#and also it was really fun background practice and I need more of that

[tordoise-x3]

FINISHED FINALLY X3

@stat1cheart ‘s designs I said I wanted to drawr a billion years ago :3

[twig---verginix]

swear to god i'm just gonna stop watching the endings to shows i like. good shows need to get cancelled on cliffhangers forever

[zillychu]

designs for a zine piece! enjoy some background story my illustration never needed under the read more (fair warning I did NOT edit this at all):

newbie mage apprentices Sam and Tucker who became friends bc they're kinda… the ones at the bottom of their class and struggle the most, for different reasons. they become besties over time and practice together!

except one night, something goes terribly wrong. they spent the last few nights preparing for a project, a bigger spell that needs an intricate circle with precise measurements to work. but when they try to activate it, well… 

oops. they summoned a demon.

which is, for one, extremely illegal. only certified demonologists are allowed to summon demons because they're so dangerous. anything less than a perfect binding circle and thoroughly researched info on the demon, including their true name, is even remotely safe.

but, weirdly enough… the demon seems just as surprised as they are. as Sam and Tuck frantically try to figure out how to dispel the demon, they realize–oh god, did their circle actually sufficiently bind the demon? it can't leave. they watch the demon tentatively poke it's claws into the air around the boundary, and watch it fizzle, retreating back with a strained hiss.

okay. okay, they can do this. without death looming over their heads, they can figure out how to send the demon back. it's cool, it's fine. except while they leaf through their books, they notice the demon watching them. it looks kind of… curious. timid. interested in what they're doing. it catches them noticing his staring, and it. apologizes? it seems flustered?

weird, okay. they keep looking, and the demon starts talking. at first, little comments to itself. mumbles that soon get just loud enough to hear. little “ooh, is that a telescope?" and “is that what fire looks like up here?" and “that must be for making charcoal…”

Sam is the one brave enough to be like "are all demons as chatty as you??” and the demon gets flustered again, apologizing. says he's just never been topside before, he's only read about humans in tomes. oh wow is that the moon outside? it really IS blue up here! is it always blue? what are you doing up? I thought humans slept at night?

Sam and Tuck can't help getting pulled in with the demon's genuine curiosity. they're wary though, since they know demons can be clever, conniving. there's a number of ways a demon can get the upper hand on a summoner who has them bound. if he gets their full names, gets them to smudge and break the circle… there could also be ways they aren't aware of. so they consider their words carefully, but engage in some chatter while they research.

it's almost morning by the time they find a way to send the demon back–but as they prepare the spell, the demon says WAIT WAIT and they stop, uncertain. the demon starts stammering out how this is weird but like… he really had fun tonight. he doesn't get to just hang out much, especially with anyone his age.

Tuck is like “how do you know our ages??" and the demon points out "oh, you said something about Paulie’s 18th birthday party, so I thought…” and they're both like oh shit we didn't even notice we did that?

“Paulina" Sam corrects in her dumbfounded stupor. 

“Right, Paulina!" the demon snaps his fingers, but quickly loses his confidence when Sam and Tuck continue to stare at him like they're not sure what's going on. he coughs and fidgets and says “um, well, I was just wondering, I guess… if you wanted to summon me another time, I wouldn't mind. you see those circles there? yeah, that's what summoned me. the candles helped too I think. oh, it doesn't need all those runes though, probably don't want to redraw all those.”

Sam and Tuck are practically gawking, but… for some reason, this demon looks so sincere. so much like them, awkward and lonely and genuinely curious.

it's a bad idea. a terrible one, even. the demon probably noticed they're newbies and not demonologists. it could be hoping they make an error in their circle, or mess up a candle, or reveal their names on accident. 

But, well. They're stupid. they're also eager for anything to help them in school, and too empathetic for their own good. they send the demon off with a yeah, no. they then think about it for a week, and end up summoning the demon against their better judgment.

the demon is shocked and so happy, they can't help but be a little endeared. they lay down some ground rules, take care to be as safe as possible… and soon, this demon that introduces himself as “Phantom" becomes a nightly visitor. they talk about their worlds, find out they share a lot of common interests, and help each other in their studies. which, hello, demons also study? bro are you serious??

they play games, laugh till their ribs hurt, and open up to each other on a far deeper level than anyone expected. over time, Phantom becomes a true friend.

Sam and Tuck quietly begin to lament the fact Phantom is stuck in that damn circle. they want to take him places, let him see the human world he seems so interested in. they want to paint his stupid claws and noogie him between his dumb horns and hug him.

but it's an astronomical risk. it's legal for a demonologist with a proper permit, but it's still considered a grave taboo to grant access to a demon outside a circle. there's just too much at risk. demons can be dangerous enough to lay waste to entire towns, take multiple teams of military-rank mages to take down.

they wouldn't risk it… if they hadn't snuck into the library’s restricted section and copy a page from a demonologist book that gives them good framework for a contract. they make some edits to it though, giving Phantom at least a little wiggle room to protect himself if need be. and allow him use of transformation magic so he can hide somehow. but they spend weeks making sure they have airtight wording to ensure Phantom can't cause anyone or anything any substantial harm. 

when they finally bring the contract to Phantom, he's stunned. he cries. nothing needs to be said, they all know the gravity of their proposal. even if they ask for proof of Phantom's trust in turn, first. they ask for his full name, so they can bind him. just temporarily. but in that moment, they'll have full control over him. they could instead tell Phantom to serve them, force him to obey their every order. even if it's just for a moment, giving them his full name with the proper circle and incantation, is putting his life in their hands. 

Phantom, with tears still in his eyes, smiles warmly and nods. with only a breath to steel himself, he gives them his full name. Daniel James Fenton.

magic sparks in the circle, and Sam and Tuck finish the incantation. ethereal chains sprout up to wrap around Phantom's arms and legs, which makes him jump–but the unwavering trust in his eyes makes the two humans choke up.

they release the binding. all that's left is to break the containment barrier in the circle, so Phantom can walk free.

“Uh, about that…” Phantom laughs sheepishly… then proceeds to step outside of the circle, merely wincing when the barrier zaps around him.

Sam and Tucker gawk. Phantom scratches his neck. “Y-yeah, so… your barrier circle was already broken that first night. It's, uh… right over there. You missed a spot.”

abject horror overcomes them because this entire time Phantom's been visiting, he could have broken out? EASILY?? THEY WOULD HAVE BEEN DEAD.

Tucker falls to his knees, but soon starts to laugh. it's kind of hysterical at first but slowly, he and Sam are genuinely laughing. they're so STUPID, and Phantom is the most un-demonlike demon they've ever HEARD of. Phantom is still flustered, stammering out apologies because he wasn't trying to deceive them or anything! he just didn't want to scare them! without a proper containment circle they technically couldn't send him back either, so he just… went back using his own magic each time they “dispelled" him. 

once they've calmed down, Phantom morphs his body into a human form–which shock Sam and Tuck, because uh, only elite demons are capable of that. they were expecting an animal, or straight up going invisible. Phantom laughs it off, says he just, spent a lot of time practicing bc he's so interested in the human world (not a lie, but). he proceeds to adopt the nickname Danny, and they all have FUN WONDERFUL SHENANIGANS

(and sometime in the near future, when faced with something truly threatening he needs to protect them from, Danny reveals that. well. their contract also had some holes in it. and he's had access to his full demon power this whole time. whoopsie! it's a good thing he genuinely loves them and doesn't want to hurt anyone, or their asses would be SO dead lol)

they're about as normal about his full demon form as you'd expect from me btw:

[sillylittleclowncat]

soo clumsy

[crescenthistory]

hi angel!!!! absolutely adore your blog and especially the way you write for regulus 🥹🥹 makes my heart so happy, like that’s baby boy!!!! thank you so much for sharing with us!!! i have a prompt request but only if you feel so inclined!!! number d8 “where is she?" with regulus, pretty please, like maybe something happens to reader and he is the last to find out (busy w quidditch or prefer things) so when someone finally tracks him down being like your girl needs you, his composure is for once non existent and he is panicking!!!! ughhh hurt/comfort with reg is everything!!! anyway only if you feel my up to my love no pressure ever - love your blog regardless 💗💗💗

hi my love<33 this is hands down the sweetest request i have received, thank you so much for being so kind 🤍🤍 i genuinely appreciate your words so much! as for the request, i adore some hurt/comfort with reg, and this is an idea i've had for a while, so it was so fun to write

Prompt: D.8 "Where is she?"

Words: 6k

Warnings: not proofread, fem!reader, severe injury (happens off screen, explained and treated on screen), lacerations, typical regulus anxiety (overworked), best friends to lovers, pomfrey being a badass, snape is a villain, animal abuse (technically), background marlene, rosekiller, etc.

It was common knowledge that Slytherin quidditch practice was never to be disturbed, especially this close to the final match of the season against Gryffindor.

This was Regulus’ first year as captain and he was determined for it to be written in the history books as a victorious one, to make himself deserving of the title. Playing opposite his brother and his best friends didn’t lessen the pressure much, either. 

He knew he had been pushing the team quite hard, but he also knew that if anyone could handle it, it was them. Evan and Barty funnelled all their chaotic energy into quidditch once they realised just how much it mattered for their mate, and Dorcas had just as much to gain from winning against Marlene as Regulus had against Sirius. Fenwick had had his skull bashed in by enough bludgers in his career to not be able to formulate any complaints, even if he had them. The rest of the team were relatively young players, a risk most others had chastised Regulus for taking, but one that was playing off beautifully – and with those rumours, they wanted to prove themselves, too. 

There really was little problem with this arrangement, he told himself, other than the fact that he was perhaps wearing himself a bit thin when balancing it all with his prefect duties and exams.

And, more importantly, missing you.

You had been the best friend he could have asked for during this hectic year of his, always standing by his side, just as much of a loyal team-player as those on his actual sports team. That unwavering dedication you had shown him over the years that taught him that maybe, just maybe, he was capable of being loved – and most definitely of loving, because Regulus would be damned if he didn’t admit that that was the only appropriate word for how he felt about you.

Not that he had told you that yet, though, and neither had you. It was never the right time, and you both knew, at least to some degree. For now, it was enough. You had each other, always, and it was enough. He told himself as much, at least.

Regulus was trying to zero his thoughts back on his team running through their plays off-broom on the ground, looking for any weakness in their formation, when the cardinal rule of not disturbing practice was broken.

“Black!” A voice shouted as it ran across the pitch from the school. 

Regulus squeezed his eyes shut, trying to will the pestering fourth year away, one of those who just seemed to always be there, nameless and bothersome. It was to little avail, though, judging by the sounds of his heavy steps hitting the still somewhat moist dirt on the field.

“Black, I have to–”

“We are in the middle of a practice!” Regulus cut the kid off, letting his nerves get the better of him as he saw most of his players stop in the midst of what had been their best run-through so far. “Unless someone has died, it can wait.”

“But–”

“Has someone died?” Regulus had his hands on his hips, half aware that he looked way too much like his older brother as he regarded the student-shaped owl in front of him with derision. 

“No, but–”

“Are someone in the midst of dying? Like within the hour?”

“N– no.”

“Then you may leave.” The student looked thoroughly confused, clearly not having been properly warned by whoever sent him as a make-shift owl that this was the only response he would be getting from Regulus. He could vaguely hear you whispering poor boy in his mind, always advocating for Regulus’ softer side, but right now he pushed it away as he turned back to his teammates. “Whatever it is will still be there when we are finished up here.”

Regulus didn’t wait for him to go before he began to pretend he was air, attention fully on his team once more.

Barty snickered as he tried to lean his chin on Evan’s shoulder, only to have the taller boy fully shove him off. Regulus shook his head, ignoring the crestfallen student beside him as he tried to increase his energy levels back to where they needed to be.

“Okay, that last round was getting closer to where we want to be. Ready to take to the sky for the last few minutes?”

When he finally stepped foot inside the quidditch locker rooms, Regulus sped through his shower routine. He was eager to get out of there and back to the dorms quick enough to have sufficient time to spend with you before going to sleep. He had half a mind to ask you to sleep in his bed tonight, but he wondered if that might be pushing it since you just did that a few nights ago. Nothing ever happened, of course, you were just the best of friends – and even if you had been something more, it was hard for anything to happen with Evan and Barty in the same room.

You just brought him a sense of peace he found himself craving more day by day. He wished to squeeze out every ounce of it he possibly could.

His hair was still wet, bag thrown about as haphazardly over his shoulder as he could allow himself to without spiralling – which is to say, he still looked perfectly polished to anyone but him. He turned to give the team lingering behind an attempt at an emphatic great work today that ended up falling a bit short from his hoarse voice. Thankfully, everyone else seemed tired enough to accept it without reservation, and Regulus could exit the changing room before all but running towards the Slytherin dorms. 

On his way there, he passed through the Great Hall, attempting to slow his stride to look a bit more composed, but quite ready to throw all of it away for the night just to curl up with you.

“Re- Regulus?!”

Sirius’ incredulous voice sounded behind him, and though Regulus loved his brother dearly, he took a deep sigh at the disturbance, knowing that, with him, it would likely not be a short one.

“That would be me.” Regulus turned around with a sarcastic half-smile, only for it to waver when he saw the expression on Sirius’ face. 

There was an evident tension in his face when he looked Regulus up and down, as if trying to figure him out while a thousand thoughts ran through his mind. Sirius’ lips were pressed tight, as if holding back a severe frown and his eyes were decidedly clouded with worry.

“Reg, what are you doing here?” His voice conveyed more confusion than upset, but both were woven into his tone.

“I’m… on my way to Slytherin? We just finished practice.” 

It was as if Sirius found an answer to his confusion as his face settled into a form of defeat. “You don’t know.”

“Don’t know what?” Regulus stared his brother down, heart speeding up in his chest, but he could feel it in his whole body. “What is it, Siri?”

“James sent someone to tell you,” Sirius says, speaking more to himself.

“Tell me what?” Regulus’ patience was worn thin by his pulse straining his skin.

“Uh, it’s Y/N.” Pangs shot through his body, pulling every vein taut. “She– she will be fine, don’t worry, but–”

“Where is she?”

Regulus struggled to make out where Sirius stood in front of him as the world seemed to tunnel around him and his mind was immediately elsewhere, immediately with his best girl, imagining any possible horror that might have overcome you. Had it not been for Sirius’ delivery of the news and the way he looked at Regulus, he might have felt more calm. But he had always known his big brother to be more composed than this.

“The infirmary–”

He didn’t need to hear more before he was running at full speed down the hallway.

Little to nothing registered with Regulus on the way to the infirmary, that he for the first time in his life realised was located painfully far away from the Great Hall. Illogical, given how many students go through there throughout their days. 

He felt lighter than ever as he was entirely certain he had never run this quickly in his life, simultaneously as every limb felt heavy with worry. 

She will be fine is only reassuring if he was concerned you had died – in every other scenario it is the worst thing to hear, because it confidently means you are not fine right now.

Regulus is half aware that he has run through two ghosts, into one student and past a professor – he thinks maybe Flitwick? – but he paid none of them any mind, willing to take the point deductions or even detentions, if only they don’t slow him down. He can deal with everything and anything else later. 

When he finally reached the door to the infirmary, it took everything in him to come to a halt. 

He all but crashed into the door, catching himself with one hand on the doorframe as he breathed heavy, giving himself but two seconds to collect himself, lest he be banned from the infirmary by life by Madam Pomfrey. That was not something he could afford right now.

Still heaving, he opened the door and took two steps inside – before his vision became entirely swamped by that very same woman, standing with her hands on her hips.

“Is she here?” He tried to get out before she could say anything.

“No visitors at the moment,” Madam Pomfrey said sternly.

“Please, is she here?” Regulus couldn’t even think to say your name, but the look on the matron’s face told him she knew.

“She is, and she is alright, but there will be no visitors at the moment.” Her voice was a bit softer now, but she was not relenting and she was not moving.

Regulus’ breath picked back up, and he didn’t register the tears that were forming in his eyes. A choked please was forming on his tongue when–

“Please.”

You beat him to it. Your meek voice sounded from a few curtains down behind Madam Pomfrey. Regulus didn’t hear the noise that escaped him when he heard the soft pain in your usually chipper voice, but the matron did. Still, it seemed to be on your account and not the lovestruck, fear-sickened boy in front of her, that she took a step to the side.

“Only you, and it must be brief.”

Her words were mostly caught by the air that Regulus left in his wake the moment she moved to the side, because as soon as he could he was by the curtain he had heard you speak from behind, ever so gently pulling it to the side.

“Oh, mon amour.”

The sight he was faced with both mended and broke his heart – because you were there, awake and already looking at him, but your forehead and right arms were bandaged and your face bore telltale signs of pain. He could see tear tracks down your delicate cheeks, mascara smudging just barely beneath your eyes. You looked happy to see him, he could see your chest heave a breath of relief, but that was about the only positive thing he could decipher in you at the moment.

At last, his movements were measured and careful again, but for once not for the sake of how he was perceived, but rather to not disturb the space around you, as if that could lessen your pain. He barely managed to close the curtain behind him with trembling hands, giving you a semblance of privacy, even in this infirmary that he had no idea hosted how many others.

There was enough space on the left side of the bed beside you for Regulus to take his rightful place by your side, as close as he dared. His eyes kept jumping all over your body and face, breath hitched.

Your name escaped his lips in a small breath as his eyes widely roamed your form.

He didn’t realise his hand was hovering between you before you reached up to him with your left hand and took it in yours. Your grip was weak and the tips of your fingers cold, but it was still the smooth skin he was used to feeling on his.

Upon your touch, he seemed to be brought back down to earth and the welling tears spilled down his cheeks.

“Oh, Reggie,” you whispered, squeezing his hand. “It’s okay, I’m alright.”

“My poor love,” he whispered back, letting his free hand move up to lightly caress your cheek, brushing some damp hair away. It must have gotten wet when Pomfrey tended to whatever wound was bandaged on your upper forehead. “What happened to you, amour?”

Regulus often referred to you with terms of endearment, you knew you were each other’s person, but the absolute softness of them now broke your heart a little.

“It was…” you trailed off, wincing as you scrunched your brows in confusion and consequently pulled on your bandage. “It was an accident.” The sound that escaped you was almost a laugh, but it was too wet and strangled to truly be classified as such.

“What happened?” Regulus’ voice urged, more desperate than before. He held your hand tighter, bringing it closer to his chest, as if to protect it.

“We were helping Kettleburn – unwillingly mind you –”

“Who are we?” Regulus cuts you off, still seeming rather feverish in his desperation to know what was wrong. You squeezed his hand and smiled at him to calm him down. 

“An unfortunate bunch of us who happened to be enjoying the fresh air by the benches. Me, Lily, Marlene, Snape, Avery and some others we don’t really know too well, mostly fourth years.”

Regulus scowled at the mention of Snape and Avery, but nodded, as if encouraging you to continue.

“Kettleburn needed some help preparing bait. He believed there was a hippogriff in the Forbidden Forest that he wanted to draw out. It worked a bit too well, a bit too well.”

His brows scrunched at that. “But hippogriffs are mainly peaceful unless you disturb them?” Unease was growing in his stomach.

“Yes, that’s what I said as well,” you feel a bout of dizziness come over you, but try and speak through it. “We were down, probably a bit too close to the forest when it came out. I tried to push the bait towards it carefully, keeping my distance. It just wanted food, you know.”

“But?”

“But Snape and Avery freaked. When it took a step closer, just to eat – they let curses fly, kneejerk self defence reaction they said.”

Regulus had to be mindful to not hurt your hand as his fists clenched on reflex. He settled for holding the sheets beside him disturbingly hard instead – he had already pieced together what happened. “You were still in the line of fire,” he concluded, eyes darkening.

“Yes,” you whispered weakly. “It would have been fine, if it had only been a stupefy or something, but Snape shouted something else, some freak hex. It was like being slashed with a knife all over.”

Regulus’ breath hitched as he let his eyes travel from gauze to gauze. His fingers came up to linger near a particularly large bandage that travelled from your shoulder in under your hospital gown. “All over?” His voice was a mere whisper before he finally looked in your eyes again. He found them teary, and his heart clenched painfully.

“Yeah, I– The biggest one is across my stomach. Pomfrey has patched me up nicely, but it was, uh, it wasn’t good.”

He can’t fight the new tears that spill as he whispers my girl before carefully shuffling closer to you to give you a hug, or at least as close to one you could get right now. His cheek is pressed into yours, his hand on the back of your head, and you can hear him cry directly into your ear, drawing tears from you as well. “I’m so sorry,” he whispered into you. “So sorry, amour.”

“Reggie, there was nothing you could do,” you try to look at him, but his grip on your head remains steadfast.

“No, I should have been there. I’m so sorry.” He presses a kiss to your upper cheek, and his lips are wet. “I should’ve been there.”

“Reg, there was no way anyone could have known.”

He pulls back slightly, looking you over to see if he was hurting you before settling in with his forehead against yours – making sure to avoid the wound in the top left. When his eyes look into yours, you feel a sense of calm finally wash over your body that had been riddled by the shock of being torn open. A grey safe haven.

“I’m sorry, amour.” He keeps saying it like a prayer.

You try to shake your head, but wince at the action. His hand immediately shoots up to your jaw, to still your head. Protecting you, even from yourself. “You’re not allowed to be sorry, Reg, you didn’t do anything. You can only feel sorry for me, which isn’t quite that hard. I look pathetic right now.”

Your half-hearted attempt at humour doesn’t seem to drag him from his despair as his eyes keep searching your face, flitting from the tears to the deviating makeup. His thumb, ever so carefully, drags under your eye to wipe away some of the mascara there. You lean into his touch.

“They tried to tell me, but I– I didn’t know, so I didn’t listen and–”

“You were at quidditch practice,” you cut him off. “Everyone knows you can’t be disturbed then.”

Regulus looked at you incredulously. “This is disturb-worthy, you – anything with you is always the biggest priority. I’m sorry.”

“One girl versus preparing for the match of your life? Hm, I think it’s good you weren’t distracted.” You are determined to lighten his mood, the sinch of his eyebrows and worry in his eyes were beginning to make you feel sick for him.

“But you’re my girl,” he says in a low voice, stressing the words as if to pour additional meaning. “You’re my best friend, my everything. Y/N, you are everything.”

You struggle to come up with a response to that. Any mask Regulus switches between is completely discarded in this small infirmary section with you. When he holds your face and looks at you, you know what it is.

Unable to speak over the lump in your throat, you just drag his face closer to press a sweet kiss to his cheek, as always.

Except this time, while your lips linger on his cheek, Regulus uses his hand still on your jaw to angle your face towards his. With your lips millimetres apart, he looks from them to your eyes, searching for something, and then back down. He whispers another soft everything before pressing his lips to yours.

For all the times you had thought of kissing Regulus, nothing compared. You never expected there to be salty from tears, you never imagined his scent in your nose to be swirled with the disinfectant covering everything around you – but he was right, it was everything. His lips were unbelievably soft against yours, even as he pushed himself even closer to you, as if he needed you underneath his skin, not just on top of it. The pinky underneath your jaw digs into your skin, and you can feel your pulse beat against his finger.

When Regulus pulls away, your mouths are still essentially connected, slightly parted, just breathing into each other. You open your eyes and find him looking at you with nothing short of love.

“I–”

“I love you.” You cut him off, smiling a bit as he half feigns indignance before it turns soft once more.

“I love you, belle fille.”

“I know.”

Finally, finally he gives you a genuine smile. It eases your nerves more than even his eyes could, and you feel yourself melting back into your pillow. Unfortunately, comfort makes you even more aware of the pain and soreness in your body, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers again, mostly to himself it seems.

“I won’t allow that.” You tug your intertwined hands closer to you, wanting to share the comfort with him. “I’m alright, Reggie.”

“You’re wounded and bandaged.”

“And I’m perfectly okay.”

He gives you an as if look, but it’s good enough for you, for now. Then his face twisted into something darker and you saw the same desperation from earlier bubbling to the surface.

“What happened to Snape? And Avery?” His hold on you is still soft and caring, but the rest of his body has grown stiff, mind racing with imagined visions of what went down and of what he would do with them in return.

“Nothing yet,” you said with a careful, measured voice. “Kettleburn wanted to ease the situation first, but since it was technically his fault for bringing us along unprompted, I’m not sure what would be done. Detention maybe?”

“Yeah, Kettleburn’s an idiot for that, but Snape was the one who used an unorthodox and probably dark hex. He has to be dealt with.”

Though you don’t condone how fast some of your friends resorted to revenge and violence, even you had to admit that the idea of Snape knowing magic like that didn’t sit right with you either. There was no situation you could imagine where a slasher spell like that would be moral in combat. 

“I’m sure they will deal with him tomorrow,” you settle on. “Tonight the main priority seemed to be making sure I don’t bleed out on the grounds.”

Regulus’ look was pained as he pressed his lips together. “How did you get in after that anyway?”

“I don’t remember too well.” You truly didn’t, and the flashes that went through your mind were not ones Regulus would be better off knowing about. “Kettleburn shushed the Hippogriff back into the forest – it thankfully didn’t get severely injured it seemed – while everyone else panicked. Lily and Marlene were the first ones by my side.”

You both smile absentmindedly at that. When you first befriended Lily through your study sessions at the library, Regulus had been unsure of how to approach your joint integration into his brother’s friend group, but the girls had turned out to be some of the best friends you could have asked for. 

“Oh!” you exclaim, almost straddling Regulus. “Almost forgot, but you’ll be happy to know that Marlene suckerpunched Snape before they brought me inside with a levitation spell. Pretty gnarly punch, too.”

Regulus’ smiled seemed to be less from gratification and more from endearment from you. “I think I’d like to see Snape get a little more than a punch for what he did to you. But that’s a great start, darling.”

You rolled your eyes playfully at him. “It’s a start. And again, we can deal with all of that tomorrow. I don’t have the energy today.”

“No, no, you are the only priority right now, amour.” Any mirth slipped from his face as he studied you concernedly once more.

“I know you’re “alright”, but you’re not alright” he started. “Could you tell me where it hurt the most?” He looks over you again, as if he can map you out and fight your pain off, spot by spot.

“My stomach and chest got it worst,” you admit. “It’s growing more sore, but Madam said I could get more pain relief in just a little while.”

“Well, she also said I could only stay here for a short while,” he whispers conspiratorially, looking towards the curtain as if he expected it to be ripped back any minute. “Pretty sure we’re way past that.”

“Maybe she heard us crying like babies over a non-fatal injury and figured it was less of a hassle to leave us to it.” You squeeze Regulus’ thigh with a grin and he bites back a yelp.

“She would be wise to do so. Especially because there’s no bloody way I’m leaving.”

You don’t say much to that because you really, really don’t want him to either. You know you are fine, and for his sake you try and seem even more assured of it, but the white panic that soared through your veins those first few minutes is hard to shake. Even though you don’t want him to hold his absence against himself, you don’t like the thought of him leaving now that he was there.

“Has she said anything about a treatment plan? How long you’ll be here? She said you’re fine, so it shouldn’t be too long right?” Though Regulus looks at you as he asks his questions, you know he is already trying to piece together probable answers in his head.

“Most of our first conversation was her narrating what she was doing while I was moaning and not listening.” Your comment was off-handed, but Regulus seemed to wince at the image it painted in his head. “Sorry,” you mumbled bashfully, but he just gave you a smile.”

“Good thing I have the memory of an elephant, then.” Madam Pomfrey’s voice sounded just seconds before she ripped the curtain back and stepped into your little bubble. 

Regulus went straight into autopilot, rightening his posture and schooling his expression. You squeezed his hand tighter, so that he couldn’t pull away, but that had not even been any option in his mind. Pomfrey went through the station beside you at the speed of light, way too familiar and comfortable with these procedures.

“Miss L/N had 5 deep lacerations and several shallow ones,” she begins to recite and Regulus hangs onto every word. “The shallow wounds are almost entirely gone from the treatment already, but the more severe ones will need time to recover. She will have to stay in the infirmary overnight today and tomorrow for observation and continue to receive some medication. Among those are pain potions and salves for the wounds. Rebandage every 10 hours and apply new salves.”

“How will that affect her?” Regulus asked, probably pushing his luck with the matron.

“The pain potions will make her a bit slow and groggy, but she will still be awake. Though she should sleep.” At that she gives you a curt look over her shoulder. “The healing process for the wounds will likely be itchy and uncomfortable and she may develop a fever. We will pay particularly close attention to the stomach wounds in case she develops any infections there.”

“What are the symptoms of infections like that?”

You try and pat Regulus’ leg to say down, boy, but he doesn’t give you the time of day, instead focusing fully on any and all information the matron is willing to share with him. You had half a mind to joke that this was private medical information, but let it be.

Madam Pomfrey turns to Regulus at his fourth question, putting her hands on her hips as she measured him closely. It seemed like she decided on something and the next second she exited through the curtains again. You and Regulus barely had time to exchange a glance before she came back and threw a white coat at Regulus who catched it bewilderedly.

“Seems like I’ve got myself an assistant for the remainder of her stay, haven’t I, Mr. Black?”

A slow smile spreads across Regulus’ face before he hurries on the coat. “Yes, Madam.”

Pomfrey talks you – and now, Regulus – through the new pain potion she is about to give you, giving brief background on the ingredients, application and effect when the door to the infirmary slams open, decidedly louder than when Regulus entered earlier. Her eyes squeeze shut, as if pained by the disrespect and incredulity of students, but finished giving you the potion.

“That is no way to enter an infirmary, Mr. Crouch,” she says through half-gritted teeth as she works. She waves at Regulus to open the curtain to your bed, revealing Barty, Evan and Dorcas, all heaving as if they have been running too. “You seem to be particularly loved, Miss L/N. Please never get injured again, it disturbs my workspace.”

Your friends’ eyes are wide as they take in your form where you lay, still rather pathetically, in your bed. 

“Merlin’s tits, what happened?” Dorcas asks.

At the same time Barty’s gaze flits between you and Regulus. “Who?” he asks, while looking at you.

“I–” you start, but that was clearly the wrong answer because he then immediately turns to Regulus instead.

“Who?”

There is no hesitation in Regulus’ voice. “Snape.”

Barty’s face morphs from shock and concern into pure determination. He stalks over to you in three wide steps, pressing a quick kiss to the safe side of your forehead, whispering a quiet take care, Treasure, before turning around and dragging Evan out of the infirmary. The other boy’s jaw was ticked shut and went more than willingly.

Even you felt a bit bad for Snape in that moment.

Madam Pomfrey, however, only breathed a sigh of relief that they left so quickly.

Dorcas comes up between you and Regulus, sitting on the very edge of your bed. Pomfrey, with Regulus’ assistance return to the work on your bedside station, though his eyes are on you almost the whole time. He has that furrow between his brows that shows up whenever he focuses intently, and you are torn between wanting to kiss it and draw it.

“We met Marls and Lily in the hallway,” Dorcas explains. “They got halfway through their story before Junior took off with us on leash behind us.”

“Sounds like him,” you laugh, trying to hide how the rumble hurts you. “But really, I’m totally fine. Or, I’m relatively good, and will soon be alright.”

“Yeah, especially when you’ve got two nurses to tend to you,” Dorcas teases, casting Regulus a knowing sideways glance.

“Pardon you, Miss Meadows; I am a Healer.” 

You can’t help the snort that escapes you. Despite never wanting to return to this infirmary, you had grown quite fond of the Madam.

“My deepest apologies, Madam,” Dorcas offered with a gleam in her eyes. You could have sworn you saw Pomfrey smile ever so slightly.

“But yeah, Dorc, I’m well taken care of. I’ll be fine.”

“Firstly, just because you’re wounded does not mean you can get away with calling me that.” You laugh once more, happy to not be treated like a dying animal even in such a grave hour. “Secondly, I’m glad. You deserve it, and it was about damn time.”

You pretend to not understand what the last part referred to, but you knew she got you all figured out. You squeeze her leg in a sign of admiration and, perhaps, defeat.

“Thirdly,” Regulus interjects. “You need to either not make her laugh or leave.”

Pomfrey nodded emphatically. 

“Not my fault your girl just finds me absolutely hilarious, Black.” Dorcas winks at you.

“Speaking of someone’s girl,” you drawl, trying to even the playing field, which worked, if Dorcas’ light blush was anything to go off of. “Please tell Marlene I say thank you. I don’t think I got to in the whirl of everything and then everyone was thrown out.”

Dorcas’ smile softens. “I will, babe, but you don’t have to thank her. She’s still a bit worried though, so I’ll tell everyone you’re doing fine.”

“Thanks,” you whisper through a smile, accepting Dorcas’ half-hug before she slips out of the infirmary, which finally returns to its prior quietude.

“That’s enough visitors for today!” Pomfrey explains, clapping her hands together as she is done. “Only staff and patients for the rest of the night.” She shoots Regulus and his white coat a knowing glance.

“Does that mean I can sleep?” You don’t mean for your voice to sound so meek, but the pain potion is starting to work, and the more your body relaxes, the more exhausted you realise you are.

Regulus makes a soft cooing sign, coming back to sit on the side of your bed, taking your hand in his and drawing comforting circles on its back. “Yes, amour. We have prepared the station for when we have to wake you in a few hours for reapplication.”

You groan a bit at the thought of being woken, and both your matron and her assistant laugh a bit at you. 

“Better that than affection, Miss L/N.”

“Yes, of course,” you relent, letting out a heavy sigh. “Thank you. For all of it.”

Pomfrey merely nods before gathering her things and exiting into the rest of the infirmary, pulling your curtain shut behind you. You expect that is the closest she usually gets to a you’re welcome and you accept it heartily.

Regulus shifts into a more comfortable position beside you, back against your headboard, ensuring you are as comfortable and pain-free as possible. He brings your intertwined fingers up to his lips to press delicate butterfly kisses to them. The softness of it all makes you almost want to cry again, but you bite it back, purely because you can’t stand seeing Regulus cry again tonight, and you knew he would.

“Congratulations on your promotion.” Your tire does not hide the coyness of your tone and he smiles fondly at you.

“Thank you. Think she figured it was easier that way – and I have always been a top student.”

“Yeah, yeah, you and your OWLs.” You turn your head more towards him, smiling. “Such a nerd.”

“I reckon you like that about me.”

“I reckon the same.”

You lean forward and he meets you halfway for a slow kiss. The casualness of it makes it feel all the more important, especially when the past few hours of your life has been anything but.

He leans his head onto yours, drawing you as close as he can with your current circumstances.

“I’m sorry,” Regulus whispers again and you shake your head beneath his. Before you can tell him no, he continues. “Not just for what happened to you or not being there. Just, I don’t know. Being slow.”

“Didn’t we just agree you were bright?” you tease, but when you turn to see the sincerity in his eyes, you soften. “It’s okay, Regulus. We were both slow.”

Neither of you feel compelled to delve into the details of it, and it makes you feel more at ease. Even with everything, this was just how it was supposed to be.

“I’m glad I have you.” It is the best way to summarise it; it was enough. He smiles warmly at you.

“And I you.” 

You ignore the strain of some of your bandages as you lean closer to kiss him again, where he meets you enthusiastically – it was worth it.

“Go to sleep now, amour. I’ll be here to ease you awake when the time comes. I’ll always be here.”

And he was.

[krysmcscience]

It’s finally done, guys – five whole pages of Narilamb AU comic AND MORE be upon you! (If you have trouble reading any of the text, view the full-size! These pages are huge!)

Yeesh, this took forever. <:)

There’s probably a ton of inconsistencies and anatomy/perspective wonkeries, but this was mostly just comic practice, so Oh Hekkin Well, Lol <:D

(Yes, I am aware the Gateway’s door isn’t present in the Afterlife, and the actual way in is just a pentagram portal. Yes, I put the door in there anyway because Artistic License, i.e. it felt more impactful for there to be a prison door of sorts to walk through to freedom, rather than just a bland boring portal on the ground. 😠)

anyway, i hate backgrounds so much lmao

Alternate ending and a buttload of bonus art under the cut, followed by goofy AU rambles and headcanon stuff:

I’m calling it the Revival AU. It’s not all that creative a title, and someone else has probably used it already, but I am too lazy to really care, LOL

Alternate ending page, which you will Definitely need to view the full-size for, Whoopsie Daisy:

The alternate ending was actually the first ending I finished things off with, because I had a brief badbrain moment where I forgot the emotional beat I initially wanted the comic to end on, and I tend to write comedy, anyway. I later remembered and drew out the proper ending, but I preserved and finished this one, too, because it still makes me giggle.

They had to go back for the followers off-screen in the AU’s real ending. And by ‘they’ I mean just the Lamb, because they weren’t about to ask three newly freed cats to go back into what used to be their prison. The Lamb DID spend some time watching Narinder and the bois enjoying the outdoors first, though:

In other news, here’s the Lamb and me making fun of my anatomy-drawing ‘skills’:

Meanwhile, if you’re wondering why the Lamb is just a-okay with how things went down vis a vis Their Murder, this bonus comic should answer at least some of your questions:

Ah, yes, also this is how they get engaged outside of the alternate ending. Forgot to mention that bit. XD (I already refuse to believe that Narinder is capable of flirting normally, so why would his initial marriage proposal be any better???)

Oh, and before any of them get a chance to actually head back to the cult grounds, there is one potential problem:

And by ‘problem’ I mean something Narinder intends to ignore for At Minimum a thousand years. Cuz he’s a petty bitch like that. :D

what do you mean i drew the lamb too tall compared to the background? clearly they’re standing on top of baal and aym lmao, why else would you think those two aren’t in this one??? (aym and baal got way too excited about finally being outside, you see, and their silly modes are nothing to sneeze at)

And, speaking of heading back to the cult grounds, I’m sure y’all would love to know how the Lamb’s followers felt about the brand new change in management:

It all went better than expected. <:D Tiny ramble now, feel free to skip down to the next comic.

Before you ask, no, the Lamb does not have any actual powers anymore, other than the immortality Narinder definitely grants them. The Red Crown just thinks it’s funny to suggest otherwise, and Narinder does nothing to discourage this. Also, the Lamb and Narinder aren’t actually married here yet, but, uh. Pretty safe to say that particular ritual directly follows the events of this comic. XD

Given how quickly he mellows out in canon, Narinder probably chills out a lot in this AU once he’s in charge of the cult, too, if only because 1.) He’s finally free, and 2.) He’s equally smitten with and distracted by the Lamb. He’s definitely in charge at least 95% of the time, though, because the Lamb never actually wanted to be a cult leader and, now that their time as a vessel is done, they just want to be a normal(ish) sheep who’s wholly devoted to their hot new divine husband.

Some followers do still have some valid concerns about these two being together, though, which I’m sure at least a few of you might share…

Unfortunately for any such concerns, the Lamb is a bonafide masochist in this AU. :D

They’re also 100% a sub, obviously

Anyone at all: Your relationship is problematic and potentially toxic

The Lamb: fuck yeah it is, it’s so hot~ OuO

Here’s just the last panel, made transparent for whatever nefarious purposes y’all might have for it:

Additional exchange Narinder and the Lamb have at some point, probably after the Lamb does a fatal whoopsie while out on a mission trip or in response to things getting a little too sadistic in the bedroom, ahaha:

Look, there is a very important distinction between life and death, and if you don’t understand that, then you’re probably not worthy of being the God of Death, anyway. (At least, according to Narinder, and ONLY Narinder.)

Last but not least, have these shittens:

~Such creative naming conventions I have utilized, lololol~ :D Anyway, there's a few deets on them in the rambles down below.

The rest is all ramble, so before I get to that, I’ll just say – likes and especially reblogs are very much appreciated!!! :D If you happen to really really REALLY like my stuff, meanwhile, I do have a link in my bio to my ko-fi page, where I’m accepting commissions and donations if you’re especially generous… ÓuÒ

Now, BE FREE IF YOU AIN’T DOWN FOR READING MY GOOFY RAMBLES

First ramble is re: Baal’s question of ‘Did it really work?’, since I didn’t feel like expanding on it in the comic proper, and it’s arguably pretty vague? He doesn’t ask because he doubts Narinder or his capabilities, exactly, but because neither Baal nor Aym have ever actually seen their god at full power before (he’s still technically not at full power here, either). It’s not expressly stated how soon the brothers were brought to Narinder after his imprisonment, but whether it was early on or after a length of time for Shamura to (somewhat) recover from his attack, he must have already been weakened, since I have no doubts that there was a huge battle that accompanied the Bishops working together to trap him. So, between that fight with all four of his siblings, sharing his power with a variety of vessels over time, and being chained immobile for a thousand years, he must have been severely weakened by the time he lent the Red Crown out to the Lamb, which would have only weakened him further.

I like to think this is how the Lamb is able to defeat him if they refuse to be sacrificed, despite how it took all four Bishops working together to subdue and chain Narinder in the first place.

All that aside, the three cats have been trapped in the Afterlife for so long that Baal also wanted verbal reassurance that they are all, indeed, actually able to leave it now – something that I headcanon isn’t possible without a significant amount of power (i.e. the Red Crown’s cooperation with its bearer/vessel).

(On a semi-related note, I don’t headcanon Aym and Baal as twins. I like sweetheart big bro Baal and snarky little goth bro Aym too much to have them be that close in age.)

Ah, teeny thing: If you noticed I switched up the art style for Narinder on the second page, that was intentional. It's sort of a visual indicator that there has been a Big Change for him - that being, how much power he has after sacrificing the Lamb. As for why I changed up his arms in the grass rollin' pic, I don't really subscribe to the notion that his arms are spooky bones because they're horrifically injured (beyond chain-chafing scars, that is), but rather just because he's the Bishop of Death, so he can change how normal-to-spooky they look at will. At some point I might doodle out how I imagine his appearance to range between least to most eldritch... 🤔

Next ramble, regarding Narinder’s feelings towards the Lamb...he was initially too focused on being freed from his imprisonment to form any real attachment to them. They were a tool for his use, first and foremost, but he did notice their intense devotion towards him. It was impossible not to notice, because the Lamb was always very happy to see him, even if it was because they died during a crusade (yet again). He wasn’t originally planning to revive them once he was freed, either, because he saw no real point to it – after all, they were already dead when they first met him, just as any other mortal would be when meeting him in the Afterlife, so death has very little real consequence in his eyes. But, once the chains were off, and it really sank in that he stood to lose the most devoted follower he’s ever had, he decided…why put their soul to rest for good or leave them stuck in the Afterlife when he could just as easily revive them again? And why not reward them for their hard work, anyway? Not only would it cost him nothing by comparison, but the future devotion that could come of it would surely make up for his (bare minimum) effort in reviving them.

He wasn’t expecting to get a full dose of that devotion and a smiling face so soon after killing them, though~ :3c (because the Lamb is a bonafide freak, and not-so-secretly into the fucked up power dynamics going on here, lol)

I should mention here that I am firmly of the belief that any non-god/vessel who crosses through the Gateway and into the Afterlife just straight up dies. So, Aym and Baal? Also straight up dead, from the second Shamura brought them through. Their souls were just never put to rest so that Narinder could have some company – if only according to Shamura. Narinder kept the two around mostly out of bewilderment, because honestly, who are these kittens, and what is Shamura’s game here, anyway??? They never even explained anything, they just tossed these kittens into the Afterlife and LEFT!!! At any rate, Aym and Baal being dead is how I explain why their souls apparently become lost in the void if they’re killed, along with the added complications required to revive the two because of it.

So, with those deets in mind, and given a bit of time, if Narinder hadn’t chosen to revive the Lamb, and also hadn’t chosen to put their soul to rest, they still would have woken up at some point, despite being as straight up dead as Aym and Baal. Who, don’t worry, were also properly revived while Narinder was waiting for the Lamb to wake up. Because I am also firmly of the belief that, first, the dead cannot leave the Afterlife without the use of a ritual/relic (and can't stay in the living world for long regardless), and second, dead followers’ devotion isn’t anywhere near as potent as that of the living, given how much more the living stand to lose.

Final ramble, regarding the Lamb’s feelings towards Narinder, and why they’re so devoted to him…

Well, you don’t spend most of your life on the run with your steadily-dwindling herd, trying to evade the ongoing genocide of your species, without becoming a little fucked up in the head. Maybe a lot fucked up in the head. Life is suffering, so might as well have fun with it, right? Maybe start finding death and pain to be kind of hilarious, even a little bit hot, once everyone you know and love is dead and gone, leaving you all alone? And maybe after that, there’s something comforting in how, despite the cold, cruel uncertainties of life, at least you can always count on the inevitability of death, patiently waiting for you until your very last breath? Who knows. Either way, as soon as the Lamb was killed, and they learned that the literal God of Death was offering them a second chance at life and vengeance via effective immortality, they were 100% ride-or-die-devoted all at once. Turns out death is kinder than life – go figure. (Of course, it helps that Narinder is 100% their type.)

They weren’t put off by Narinder’s thinly-veiled sadism or manipulations, either – they’re not too different in those regards, albeit opting for vastly different methods. It’s a very ‘two sides of the same coin’ sort of deal. In order to stay alive once they were made the last of their kind, the Lamb had no qualms with using others to their advantage, and that did not change once they were revived and expected to run a cult. They didn’t care for the position of authority, though – being a sheep and all, they’re much more of a follower than a leader, and thus greatly appreciated Narinder’s need for control. With how they had to keep on their toes for so long, the Lamb was also pretty good at reading people by the time they died, so they could recognize that a lot of Narinder’s posturing was just that – posturing. Dude’s 95% bluster and only 5% bite. He could obviously be vicious when he wanted or needed to (the Bishops' injuries were clear proof of that), but underneath his outer layer of cruelty was a generous layer of tsundere, and underneath all THAT was a soft squishy middle sibling velcro cat in desperate need of attention and affection.

(Which, for the record, he Did Not feel comfortable getting from Aym and Baal – Narinder still has no idea why the fuck Shamura sent them to him, beyond acting as keepers at best or trying to sabotage his attempts to escape at worst. Which, he thought HE sabotaged in turn, by guiding the kittens into being his devoted disciples instead. He thought he was very clever for it. ‘I outsmarted Shamura!’ he thought, despite that there was never anything there to outsmart. ‘What do you mean, Shamura sent your kittens to me for company?’ he demands of Forneus later. It may or may not lead him to pull Shamura out of Purgatory just so he can shake them and scream about how they should have Fucking Explained that!!!)

But, getting back on track as to why the Lamb was so willing to be sacrificed, I cannot stress this enough – if you pay even a minimal amount of attention to what he’s saying, Narinder is REALLY NOT SUBTLE about his intentions. ‘Death is of little consequence.’ ‘Followers are for you to use to your advantage.’ ‘Sacrifice a follower to absorb more power.’ So, yeah, the Lamb knew exactly what would be expected of them once the other Bishops were dead. They knew Narinder would expect them to die for him one last time. But, after all, death is of little consequence (not to mention hot), so when the time came, they wanted to see him freed, even if it meant oblivion for them in the end.

He’d given them a second life, and the ability to avenge their kin, and they felt indebted to him for that – so, while they were still pretty glum about the possibility that they might not get to see him free of his chains, nothing beyond their devotion and debt to him mattered. They never wanted all the drama and expectations that came with the Red Crown’s power, anyway, so, better for Narinder to have it back so that he could deal with it. What he did with the Lamb afterward would be up to him, and seeing as he was their god, they’d accept his decision gladly.

Were they in love with him by that point? Oh, obsessively so, but only in the devotional sense – romance was nowhere on their mind nor radar. That is, until he unexpectedly revived them again, told them he still needed them, and then offered down his hand to help them up.

The Lamb fell HARD for him in that moment. :3c

And now, a tiny shitten ramble. Lu and Li are twins, because sheep tend to have those a lot, and are conceived not long after the Lamb and Narinder’s marriage ceremony. Lu is the minutes older one, but Li is much more mature. I have put no further thought into these two, other than that they are utter menaces, birthed by the Lamb, cling hard to both their parents but especially Narinder (who spoils them rotten), and they are both genderfluid, using whichever pronouns/names they feel like at any given time. They are also both intersex, same as the Lamb, who was initially infertile up until Something Something Vague Magic, which I have also put no further thought into ¯\_(シ)_/¯

oh, and before anyone tries to suggest i headcanon this AU’s lamb as trending more female due to them giving birth or whatever, no, no, a thousand times no, they might have a vag, but they've also got a dick, and even if it's not as big as they'd like, they still know how to use it

Finally, the very tentative name for the Lamb in this AU is Yazdi, which is really just another name for the Baluchi breed of sheep XD (Not that the Lamb is this specific breed, I just didn’t like any of the other sheep-related names I found, ahaha...)

THAT’S ALL FOR NOW (collapses into an exhausted pile of goopy limbs)

[vilnmelling]

NPMD Digital Ticket details!

Since not every can/can afford to/wants to buy the Digital Ticket for Nerdy Prudes Must Die (and the bonus material that comes with the purchase), for your inclusion purposes, here's a list of fun background details, funny moments and comments made in the track commentary, for you to use however you like!

Ruth doesn't actually need to wear her headgear anymore, but she wears it anyway because it makes her feel safe.

Jeff pitched a Nightmare Time episode about the problematic puppy from Steph's verse of High School Is Killing Me, meaning there is a story there.

In the line, "I learned that at the anti bullying assembly last month, fucknugget!" there's a long pause before "Fucknugget!" which really makes it sound like Max forgot to insult Richie and just threw the word out.

All of the little noises Ruth makes, she makes because she has more she wants to say, but she can't say them (presumably due to anxiety).

In the proshot, you can't see fully how low Richie goes while he and Ruth sneak up on Peter, but Jon is fully crouched down. He then uses Pete's pockets and elbows to climb up like he's climbing a mountain (he mimes using a pick or axe to get good hold).

While Steph is talking, Ruth and Richie try their best to hear through the phone by getting as close as they can to it.

The reason Max and Jason were in the Pasqualli's parking lot is that they were practicing their skateboarding. They do that at Pasqualli's instead of at school/at a skatepark because they don't want the smoke club and skater kids to make them look like noobs. (This was a cut bit from the Pasqualli's scene).

The line, "Some big... dumb... sexy... football star" is expanded. In the Digital Ticket, Grace says, "Some big... dumb... sexy... sweaty... hot... well-spoken... beautifully tall football star."

When they're in the boys bathroom, Steph jumps to see over the stalls.

Richie Naruto runs when they're going to Waylon Hall. Pete slaps his hands down, but after they pause to look at the house, Richie looks over his shoulders at Pete a couple of times before darting away from him, once again Naruto running.

Richie stops in the door at the Waylon Place, so Pete pushes him inside.

Ruth and Richie speak at the same time when they say, "I'm allergic to deodorant" and "I have overactive sweat glands."

Ruth goes straight to Richie to complain after the "pus in my pits" exchange with Steph.

When Steph suggests saying there's a party at the Waylon Place, Pete, Ruth and Richie all react negatively (mostly nervously groaning).

While Grace sings the "He's just a nerd in disguise!" line, Richie can be seen practicing the first move of the Bully the Bully dance.

After Ruth says, "We're gonna cut off his nips!" you can see Steph look confused and ask, "What?"

While Pete and Richie talk in the Waylon Place ("Am I reading as ghost or Lin Manuel Miranda" & "She came all the way out here just for you."), Ruth and Steph discuss and practice Ruth's skeleton moves.

Richie gets stuck in the dangling parts of Pete's costume when he says, "You could just hit it and quit it, bro!" He then aggressively detangles himself.

The line "He's just really fucking brave!" comes from Richie being jealous that he's not that brave.

Richie hypes Ruth up a bit after Max says her skeleton bit was really special.

Grace hides behind Ruth while Max is dying.

Richie rolls his eyes when Grace says "It was an act of god!" (Similarly, Shapiro sighs and looks away in disbelief when Grace later says "It was god's plan!")

Pete gags when Grace says "Hack all his limbs off." Richie can also be seen gagging and holding his stomach several times.

Ruth hands Max's nipples over to Grace after cutting them off.

Jeff Blim is the principal of Hatchetfield High. Not a character of Jeff's, just Jeff himself.

Brenda still seems quite judgmental after the two weeks have passed. She makes a lot of not-quite-friendly faces when the football team's talking about Richie smelling bad.

When Richie struggles to remove the Zeke the Fightin' Nighthawk costume, he accidentally removes his jacket as well, leading to Jon having to put it back on (which he also struggles with) (and which creates a funny situation, since Richie was supposed to go shower).

Richie seems to have hurt his leg by the second fall in Nerdy Prudes Must Die (the song).

After Steph tells Grace to "Leave Ruth alone!" in the principal's office, Ruth tries to grab Steph's hand.

The wig Joey wears when he plays Dan Reynolds isn't Dan's real hair. Dan Reynolds wears a toupée.

Trevor and Angela's drama student encourage each other after they finish rehearsing.

Additional line when Grace is lying to Shapiro: "Suddenly, I remembered a crucial detail that made everything make sense. A picture came flashing into my mind, like I was Enola Holmes!"

"My dad sells women shoe! Shoes!"

Angela misses the chair at Beanie's and falls on her ass, leading to her, Joey and Mariah (mostly Mariah) breaking character.

During The Summoning, Tinky focuses ONLY on Pete. The entire time, he looks like he's restricting himself from lunging out and attacking him. At one point, he points at the Bastard's Box while staring at Pete.

90% of the time during The Summoning, Pokey's staring at his own mask.

Steph facepalms after Max says "That's nasty! ... I like it!"

[cuteandhughesy]

You Are In Love | Matthew Knies

summary: john tavares' sister is the social media manager for the leafs. she loves her job and the friendships she forms with the team - but what happens when her older brother invites her new crush to live with them.

14.2 + K

warnings: NSFW! secret relationship | brothers teammate | mutual pinning | fluff | suggestive themes | smut | kissing | oral (female receiving) | unprotected! p in v intercourse | read at your own discretion.

a/n: okay I write this like over a year ago so it’s not the best! also i originally wrote it with an original character in mind - so if you see a name instead oh y/n….no you didn’t.

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"he doesn't have a place to stay, so I offered him the other spare," john's voice was grainy over your cellphone speaker but you heard his words loud and clear. "It's the right thing to do."

"yeah!" you we're kind of in...shock. "The kids will love it..." they would - you weren't lying. that doesn't change the fact that you were kind of nervous.

your brother must've been able to tell by your tone, "you okay?" he asked.

you cleared your throat. "yeah."

"he's a good kid and he's your age - you've met him right?"

you have in fact met him. you have worked for the leafs for about a year. they had needed a new social media manager and somebody to run their teams tiktok account. When john told you, he said the team wanted more fun and interactive content on their pages and recommended you.

you had the degree and the charisma so you were hired with no questions. The fans loved the style of content you were posting, and the team had a great time answering your questions and lip syncing to stupid audios.

you were introduced to the newest maple leaf only a week ago. matthew knies had answered one of your daily questions before a practice and you were totally in awe. convinced you had never seen a better looking guy your age, you immediately developed a crush on the rookie.

so yeah, "I've met him two or three times. very polite."

"yeah," john says. jace runs into your legs and you grunt out from the force of your nephew slamming into your shins.

aryne walks into the living room with baby rae in her arms, she was feeding her. "is that john? is he on his way?"

"are you on your way?" you relay his wife's question. you can hear his turn signal in the background.

"yeah, 10 minutes away."

"10 minutes," you tell your sister in law. she smiles at you, ruffling jace's hair as she passes. your nephew has climbed into your lap, playing with the string of your hoodie.

"so," you begin, "when does he move in? do I need to get the bedroom ready..or?" you tried not to make yourself seem to eager to know. your brother couldn't know about your crush on his teammate.

"no no, i'll do the room. don't worry," john says, "he'll be moving in, probably in the next few days. I'll get everything ready when I get in."

you hold in a sigh. "okay, well, i'll let you go, I've gotta wake Axton up and help out with dinner."

"okay, I'll see you all in a bit. love you guys."

"love you," you say, "Jace say bye daddy." you hold the phone up to the little boys ear and he says just what you told him to. John and you laugh and then hang up.

yourself and aryne get dinner started after axton woke from his nap. aryne and you had always gotten along great, which is lucky considering she's married into the family. you're just glad she wasn't some stuck up girl like the kind of girls you'd grown up with. she was like the sister you've never had, which is why she could tell something was on your mind.

"you're quiet," she observes, slicing her knife through the carrot sticks. "you okay?"

"yeah," you say it too cheerful and immediately cringe at yourself, eyes not leaving the potatoes you'd been peeling. "just you know, nervous about the new...roomie. it's like college all over again," you try and laugh it off but aryne raises a brow.

"why would you be nervous?"

there really wasn't a point in lying to her. not only was she like a big sister but she acted like a best friend. "aryne I'm convinced i'm in love with him. he's the most beautiful man I've ever seen." you groan, hands falling into the pile of peelings in defeat.

"oh god," she says. she puts her knife down as jace and axton run through the kitchen giggling. "boys! no running please."

"Don't tell john," you say. "It's nothing serious - just a crush!"

"You know me," aryne says, hand on her hip. "our secrets stay our secrets." she goes back to her chopping. "besides," you look towards her with raised brows, "he's a cutie, maybe you guys will -"

"enough!" you throw a peel at her.

"hey!" johns voice calls through the house, and the sound of four feet running towards him can be heard. baby rae giggles and coos in her high chair as your brother enters the kitchen.

"hey," he repeats, kissing aryne on the lips and squeezing your shoulder on his way past. "what are you two gossiping about,"

"nothing," you say, putting the potatoes in the pot as you and aryne begin boiling the soup.

—

matthew had moved in a week ago. you were right, jace and axton adored him. so did you but you didn't mention that to anybody except aryne and only after two glasses of wine.

you're sure he is actually the sweetest guy like ever. not only does he treat your nephews and niece with the most gentle care, but he has so much love and respect for your brother and sister in law for letting him stay in their home. aryne says she sees him looking at you often, but you don't believe her. matthew was just as lovely when he spoke to you at home and at work - which is weird saying 'see you at home' to two leafs now - but you digress.

It was wenesday morning practice, and you were working. it was question day, so last night around midnight when you happened to remember - you grabbed the bristol board and sharpie and wrote: 'who's your celebrity crush?'

you stood near the entrance of the rink, cup of hot tea in your hands, with the board propped up against your legs. your co - worker, maddie, was holding the work phone, ready to record the players heading onto the ice, answering the prompt as they came from the locker room.

morgan rielly came first and chuckled at the sign.

"cmon mo, give us an answer," you laughed along with him.

he hummed for a moment but settled on, "megan fox."

you and maddie were getting a lot of the same answers, megan fox or margot robbie with an odd ball thrown in every now and then.

"here we go," you laughed knowingly as mitch marner slowed down to read the sign. he dropped his head back in defeat, "can I say my fiancé?"

you groaned, "mitch no."

and then you noticed another body slow down and read the sign as well. you tried not to blush when you smelt the cologne on matthews neck, a dead giveaway that it was him.

mitch rubbed his jaw, "you guys make these too hard," mitch concludes, "you're trying to put me in the dog house."

matthew laughs and your knees get weak.

maddie scoffs, "it's not hard, you're just difficult."

"exactly," you agree.

"alright, let me see the phone," mitch grabbed the cellphone, directing it in your direction, a giggling maddie behind mitch's shoulder. "alright, kniesy , get your interview pants on."

and matthew goes along with it. you didn't think he was comfortable enough - too shy maybe but no. he held a fake microphone towards your mouth and asked "who's your celebrity crush, Ms. Y/N Tavares?"

you felt your face wanting to get hot and you internally scolded yourself. "oh you know.."

"it's not difficult," mitch mocks you and matthew laughs.

you grab the non existent microphone, which just ends up with you pulling Matthew's glove closer to your face, holding his hand in place. "oh my god, It's Dylan O'brien you freaks." matthew laughs as he looks down at you. "now let me do my job and ask you the questions."

mitch gives a laughing maddie the phone back as william nylander walks out, followed by john. your brother barley stops to look but laughs, walking away as he calls out his answer.

william ponders briefly but says, "madison beer." mitch sucks in air fast, "good one!" mitch starts to walk away, "i'll say margot robbie!"

"boring!" maddie shouts with a laugh.

matthew stands with his hand on his hips and takes a deep breath but then he just like, walks away which is...rude.

"hey," you say, "are you going to answer?"

he looks back with what looks so be a slight smirk, "I can't tell - it's a secret!" and you swear you see him wink at you, but based on maddie's reaction of turning to you all wide eyed and open mouthed - you are certain matthew knies definitely winked at you.

—

matthew was sitting on the family room couch, scrolling through his phone as you came down the stairs. at the sound of your foot steps, he looked up and towards you, a small smile overtaking his lips.

you sent him a closed mouth smile back. "hey."

"morning," matthew said. he couldn't help but notice how fresh you looked. you had just showered and gotten ready, and matthew was smitten at the smell of your strawberry honey shampoo mixed with whatever sweet fragrance you sprayed on.

"are the kids up yet?" you didn't hear them, so you knew the answer already.

"don't think so," he hums, "just us so far."

you nod in agreement. "well, I was gunna head for some tims coffee before anybody had woken up, but, I mean, did you want to come with me?"

he was up off the couch before you could finish, "yeah." he said it so casually and the way he whipped on his hat so perfectly and grabbed his keys was just....ugh.

you two made small talk until you were both seated and buckled into matthews car. he passed you the aux cord wordlessly, which was just, wow. you bit your lip to stop yourself from smiling too hard and took the cable from him, hitting shuffle on your playlist.

"so," he started, pulling out of the driveway, flicking on his signal for the passing cars on the street. "how long have you been working for the team?"

he glanced at you quickly before pulling onto the street, the gps pulled up on his phone between his (massive thighs) legs, letting him know where to go.

"probably about a year now...and maddie joined me about 3 months ago. she's great and has helped a lot." after all, what if matthew wasn't winking at you but maddie - what if all this time he's been trying to get know maddie. how humiliating would that be - god he probably doesn't even think -

"do you like it?" matthew brought you out of your depletion. the way he had said it was almost like he could read your thoughts and he was telling your brain to shut up.

matthew didn't know you were johns sister when he first met you. not until you were introduced as so. sure, you both had dark hair and the same eyes, but you were a girl and matthew was clueless so why would he assume that the girl who thought was the most beautiful woman he's ever seen was related to his new captain.

it wasn't until auston matthews said, "have you met johns sister yet?"

"I don't think so," matthew said, "was I supposed to?" he had been confused because why would johns sister be there.

"our social media girl? you know, the hot one with dark hair." auston said it so nonchalantly but matthew felt his face drop. it couldn't be.

"fuck." was all he could say because fuck was right. he was lusting over his captains sister.

"yeah, I love it actually," your answer to his question snapped matthew out of his thoughts. "everybody is so lovely, and the friendships i've gained with the guys, it's amazing...even when mitch drives me up the wall."

he could just tell by the tone of your voice that you truly loved working for them. his phone alerted him they were two minutes away from tim hortans.

"the guys like having you around," matthew says. "or at least I do anyways, It's nice."

"thanks. means a lot." you look over at him and admire his side profile. he is so handsome. the music stops and changed over to the next song. with furrowed brows, matthew glances to the screen and then smirks. "big swiftie?"

you were kinda shocked that's what he said first and didn't slander her. "yeah," you said carefully. "are you?"

he laughed, "duh."

you gave him a skeptical look as the car pulled into the entrance of the coffee shop. he glanced over and saw your face in disbelief and rolled his eyes playfully.

you laughed out in shock, "hey! you can't blame me for being skeptical."

"you're right," he surrenders one of his hands, the other using the wheel to steer them into a parking spot (which was super hot.) "what If I told you i'm in my 1989 era? would you believe me?"

he unbuckled his seatbelt and you stared at him fondly. a look that had matthews stomach doing flips. "yeah. i'd believe you."

"good." he jumped out of the car and rounded to your side to open the damn door like some gentleman and you swooned. a swiftie and opening the door? was he just full of green flags? "you're definitely in your lover era," he states, "the vibes are too strong for any other era."

you laughed. "lover is great."

and when you both made it inside and started the order, you felt like crying when matthew ordered timbits for the kids, got john and aryne a drink and asked what you wanted and then payed for it all wordlessly - you swore you were in love.

as you waited for the drinks you could feel matthews eyes looking down towards you, because hell he was tall and had no choice but to look at the top of your head. "do you always get that drink?"

you rolled your head back to look into his eyes and nodded. "yeah, you can try it if you want."

"i'll stick to my hot drink," he smirks. "hot coffee over cold all day."

you have him a perplexed look. "what?! you're wrong."

"I'm not!" he laughs, moving to grab the tray of beverages as the teen calls it out from behind the counter. "my taste it clearly superior if we're even having this conversation."

you chuckle, "sure big guy."

back in his vehicle, your music resumes from where it left off, the stunning cords of corniela street flowing through the speakers once more.

"that would be a good question for your account." Matthew starts and you raise your brows in question. "ask the boys what their favourite Taylor swift song is? I bet the fan girls will love it - mitch too."

you think it actually would be a good question and take a mental note. "I agree."

__

It was after a team breakfast when you chose to go around with your mini - microphone to ask the boys questions for this weeks video. the team was all dressed comfortably, which is a nice change for the feed, most of them happy and full of delicious food so it was easy to get them to comply for the video.

It was just you today, maddie had the day off so you went around with your phone in one hand, paperwork under one arm and mini mic in the other hand.

"nick, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" nick robertson looked at you with raised eyebrows. he kissed his teeth and his hands on his hips before leaning down to the microphone.

"anti - hero." you thanked him and he laughed. "was that a good answer?"

you smiled, "yes."

and you kept moving, asking any player who you laid eyes on.

"joseph, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "love story"

"willy, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "look what you made me do."

"mitch, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" "my fiancés is cardigan so cardigan."

"auston, what's your favourite taylor swift song?" you asked the forward, with a smirk on his lips he looked down at you.

"I don't know any." he was teasing you, obviously.

"yes you do," you laughed, "think hard."

"I am."

matthew could hear your laugh from across the room and his eyes landed upon you and auston. he was looking at you with a look that Matthew didn't like and you were laughing at what he was saying and that made him feel a bit...funny.

before he couldn't even think about what he was doing, he marched over there, abandoning his conversation with kerfoot and joining you and auston.

"hey," matthew says. "are you doing questions today?"

and just like that, you smiled that bashful smile and your cheeks got warm and matthew felt good.

"yeah!" you said, microphone swiveling towards matthew as you captured the two of them on video. "matthew, what's your favourite taylor swift song?"

he smiled and wanted to scream. you had used his question. it filled him so much joy and pride because auston may find you hot and make you laugh but you were using his questions and blushing at him.

"well, y/n," matthew started, taking the mini - microphone from your hands and bringing it to his mouth. you giggled. like an actual little girl. "my favourite taylor swift is cornelia street."

you spit thickened and you felt like you couldn't swallow. oh, you think, that's the song you had played in the car when he proposed the question. it was so...sweet.

"mines probably you belong with me," auston speaks and you have to blink hard because you forgot the goal scorer was even there.

matthew was looking at you with a look that makes you hot and bothered. you're sure now, this isn't been in your head. he was flirting.

"thanks, yeah," you take back you're microphone, "thanks. I better go ask o'rielly the same question, he looks left out."

and then you just left, matthews eyes burning into your retreating figure.

you were so screwed.

—

after that video went out, fans were absolutely loving matthew knies. and fair enough, you think. he was especially popular with the leafs female audience, and once again, you couldn't blame them.

fans wanted more matthew knies - they loved him and loved when you posted videos with him or about him. you also happened to love it too so it was a win win.

"it'll be quick!" you say quickly, "don't you want me to succeed at my job? give me content." you pass your brother the phone.

matthew laughs at your words and you smile.

"do you think you have the idea of it john?" you and already explained when to stop the audio and when to pan to who about 8 times now.

"yeah, yeah." he says. "why can't I be in the video?"

"well one, the audio is only two people," you point out, fixing your hair, "and two, the fans love matthew. you're outdated old man."

your brother laughs.

"okay, ready?" you ask matthew.

he crosses his arms and it makes his chest look even broader. "oh yeah, y/n/n, cmon now."

john doesn't catch on to the lovetseuck look you're definitely giving his teammate - thank god. probably too busy thinking over his instructions again.

"okay, john," you say.

the tiktok starts and the audio begins. you instructed him to focus on you for the first portion. you begin lip syncing to emma chamberlains met gala interview with jack harlow.

"i'll see you in there,"

video stops. you tell him to pan to matthew then, who delivers his line perfectly in your opinion.

"cant wait. love you, bye."

he chuckles when the video stops and you can't help but smile at him. you tell john that both you and matthew will be in the next shot.

"love you," you lipsync with a smile and as instructed, matthew walks out of view, and the last seconds of the video you give a shocked look to the camera - playing out the original interview clip perfectly.

matthew laughs and you and john join him. "ugh, perfect."

john gives you a high five and moves to collect his bag out of the trunk of his vehicle.

matthew joins you as you watch the tiktok over. his body is warm against your back, breathing soft and it tickles your exposed neck, making your stomach tingle.

"they'll love it," you say, "my bosses and the fans."

"how could they not?" he says, eyes looking into yours. "we killed it. you killed it, like usual."

"don't praise me matthew it turns me on." you say before you can even think of who you're talking to. what the fuck, your face drops, why did I say that? "I mean -"

matthew looks at you with a look you can't quite decipher and then he says, "good." he smirks and just leaves, grabbing his bag and walking into the players section of the arena with john. leaving you dumbfounded.

after making sure the audio was properly synced up and that everything looked okay, you posted the tiktok to the maple leafs account with the caption: when the knies/tavares household pulls up for work.

your favourite comment was one you found that said they shipped you and matthew - but you kept that information to yourself.

—

matthew couldn't help but glance at you discreetly once again. he had actually lost count of all the times he found himself admiring the side of your face, only lit up by the movie playing infront of you.

he was slightly smirking when you looked over at him, "matthew, pay attention." you scolded, pulling the blanket up to your chin and rolling towards him on your side. you weren't touching, but the heat of his body made you shiver.

"sorry," he breathes, eyes moving back to the movie.

"I can't believe you've never seen this before, It's a classic." you stated.

"I don't usually like romance movies," matthew says.

you sit up slightly, "how to loose a guy in 10 days isn't just a romance movie," matthew laughs as you try and mimic his voice, "it's funny and unique and creative and- ugh, just look-" you are distracted by Matthew McConaughey teaching Kate Hudson how to ride a motorcycle. "if I was that annoying and somebody still fell in love with me, I'd be smitten."

"you are that annoying," matthew is giving you a look when you scoff and roll your eyes at him. just then the two of you are both laughing, matthews head falling to your shoulder.

"I can't believe you," it's a whisper as it leaves your lips, eyes downcast as you look into matthews eyes. his head is still on your shoulder, looking up at you like a giant puppy dog. "i'm not annoying."

he smirks and you have to refrain from kissing him. "you're not annoying, no."

you smile triumphantly before pushing his head off you softly, to which it's his turn to scoff into the dark room. "rude."

"you love it."

"i do," matthew says back. he watches your face heat up as you try and keep focused on the tv. he's in trouble.

__

you had always found him attractive, but something about him helping the kids make mini pizzas had you wanting to fuck the shit out of matthew knies.

he was so gentle with the boys, and you're heart just melted everytime.

john and aryne had gone out for the night for a date - which was much needed. the leafs had an off day, which was rare, so you made your brother and his wife take the time and focus on them - with the promise you and matthew would watch the kids. well, you promised you watch the kids. you told matthew he should go out with hang with his friends but he declined. 'I'd much rather stay here with you...and the kids of course'

oh okay matthew i'll just fall more in love with you.

"wow, jace look at your pepperoni smiley face!" you're holding rae as you praise your nephew and he giggles, showing you his little teeth. "is it ready for the oven?"

"yes," jace said.

"okay, hold my hand to get down." his little palm grabbed yours and he slid off the kitchen chair.

"matthew, is axton almost done?" jace pulled on the leg of matthews sweat pants with a giggle.

matthew looked down and laughed at the kids sweet expression, "just about buddy."

you rounded the island to looked at your other nephews pizza. "wow!" you smiled and axton gave you a toothy grin.

"axton wanna show your aunt how you put the cheese on?" matthew asked him and you gave an encouraging nod when the blonde looked back up at you.

his chubby little fist grabbed a handful of shredded mozzarella and let it fall on the pizza with a laugh.

"good job baby!" you said, ruffling his hair. "is it ready to go in the oven?"

"yes," he gurgled.

"alrighty," matthew picked him up, swinging his little body out of the chair and placing his feet on the ground. "let's get these in the oven, don't touch okay guys. it's very hot."

"listen to matthew - I gotta put your sister down for bed, okay? i'll be back soon" you told them and they nodded. matthew watched your retreating figure with a grin on his face. he had put the two pizzas in the oven and sat with jace and axton in the living room. the boys were playing with toy cars and then suddenly jace bounced over onto matthews lap with a cheeky grin.

"what's up dude?"

"do you love my aunt y/n?"

"what?" matthew asked, tickling his stomach to make the boy laugh. "where'd you learn that from?"

"I learned from mommy." he said. "she says to aunt y/n that you love her."

oh, he thinks, am I that obvious about my feelings.

"i love everybody in this house. even you jacey." matthew says and jace, satisfied, leaves his lap, playing with his toys again, the only sound being the toy car wheels running on the hardwood floor and the hum of the over cooking the pizzas.

matthew thinks about you then, and how perfect you are. your smell, your smile, you're body...he needs a cold shower and a reality check.

later after you ate dinner and put the boys to sleep, you and matthew were busy in the kitchen. matthew was putting away pizza toppings and wiping down the counter top while you were elbow deep in soap suds.

you heard matthew chuckle to himself and you quirked an eyebrow, looking over his shoulder.

"what's so funny over there?"

he looked up at the sound of your voice and shook his head. "nothing, just -" he collected a handful of dirty dishes left over on the island and brought them over to the filled sink. "-earlier, jace asked me If I loved his aunt y/n."

your hands stopped scrubbing the plate you were working on, looking up towards him on your left. he was leaning his hip against the counter, arms crossed as he watched you.

"oh, god," you chuckled breathlessly. "sorry, he's just, curious."

"I don't mind, really." matthew says it quick and it makes you swallow hard. "At least he doesn't think I hate you...which is good. because I don't."

"right," you laughed, "I don't hate you either."

he looks at you all soft and you just want to grab his face with your hands, soap and all, and kiss him.

"y/n..." his arms uncross and it looks like he's about to reach out and touch you. "I've been waiting-"

the code beeps at the front door. "we're home." aryne says, smile happy and cheeks warm. stomach full of one glass of wine...or two glasses.

you try not to let your face show disappointment as matthew does the same.

"the kids go down okay?" john asks, tossing his keys on the counter.

"yeah," you clear your throat, eyes darting back to the sink. "everything is great."

"thanks again," aryne says, hugging your waist from behind. "you guys are the best."

"of course." matthew said. you glanced at him softly out of the corner of your eye, but he was already looking at you.

—

with the playoffs, it was harder to get content like you usually strive after. the boys were busy with extra practices and they were extremely focused on trying to win games - which, you know, was good.

so you got the most content with fans before the games, taking pictures and videos for the account - which was just as fun.

the guys rocked the first round and you texted matthew every night when they were in tampa, congratulating him on his goals and the teams performance: you tried not to scream of joy when he had sent back the kissing face emoji.

fast forward to a rather difficult round two. thankfully the leafs had pushed it to a game five, which was...good you suppose but still nerve wracking nonetheless.

you had been standing with aryne when it happened. often when you worked, you tried to join aryne and the kids during the warm up to capture some family content for the page. you were entertaining jace as the boys played, your eyes weren't even watching the ice or anybody but then the crowd stood in a rather negative uproar - and not the kind of disappointment when flordia scored a goal - it was different.

"oh no," aryne winced and your eyes shot up, seeing matthew laying on the ice looking rather...uncomfortable.

"what's happening?" you asked her. the trainer had reached matthew and was speaking to him with a hand on his back.

"he kinda got...slammed down. his head hit the ice."

it took a few minutes but he slowly got up, but had headed straight down to the tunnel. the game resumed but you had been too distracted by what happened to pay attention. 20 minutes passed and he still hasn't returned, which wasn't good.

"maybe you should go check on him?" aryne suggested.

you stopped biting at the skin of your thumb. "no, i'm okay." you said it quick and not even you were convinced at your own words.

aryne sighed. "y/n..."

you didn't budge.

"he doesn't have any family here besides us...I'm worried too and axton keeps asking about him - and I can see that you're stressed. go."

you took a moment but nodded in agreement, "okay, yeah," you grabbed your pass around your neck as a nervous habit, "yeah, are you okay with the kids?"

"of course," she said.

"I'll text you."

It didn't take long to reach the assessment room. that's where you found matthew and the team doctor and trainers. they turned at the sound of you entering the room and the trainer sent you a tight lip smile. the doctor was doing another test on matthew but you could tell by his eyes. something was wrong.

"is he okay?" you asked billy, the usual trainer, in a whisper.

"concussion for sure," he sighed, "even if the season keeps going, he won't be able to play."

you felt like crying for him. his nhl dream is cut short for the season. "oh." you whispered.

"y/n?" matthew asked. you tucked some hair behind your ear and moved towards him.

"hey.." you sat down in the stall next to him. billy was directed by the doctor to speak outside, giving you and matthew a moment alone. "how are you feeling?"

"like shit," he sighs, head falling back against the stall. "This sucks." you think you see his lip quiver and that makes your heart ache.

"It does," you agree, placing a hand on his knee and rubbing it soothingly.

"how come you came down here?" matthew asked, "i'll be fine."

you shake your head and look down, tears collecting in your waterline. "oh you know...the boys were wanting me to check -" you look up towards his face and he looks at you so concerned - the guy with the concussion was looking at you like he was concerned about you.

"I was so worried." you admit finally, tears welling in your eyes. "i'm just...sad for you."

"don't cry," he says softly, "I don't want you to be worried about me. I'll be okay." he tucks a piece of hair being your ear, hand trailing down your pleather jacket. "I mean, I got a killer headache but it'll go away," you gave him a look. "besides, if you worry too much you'll give yourself a stroke and then our new social media manager won't be you and then I can't flirt." he was trying to be funny.

"don't crack jokes," you try and scold him, "it's not funny." you can't help but smile though.

his fingers play with your keycard around your neck. "I feel better seeing you though. anytime I see you I automatically just feel like 100 times better."

"matthew," you whisper, "you're too concussed to be flirting like this."

"yeah, but," he grabs your cheek softly, "I mean it. y/n, I really like talking with you, and flirting with you, and hanging out with you. the other day in the kitchen...I was going to tell you but then your brother came in- I know I like you."

you smirked, "like as a friend or.."

"shut up.." he mumbled through his grin.

you kiss him, gently as you didn't want to shake his brain anymore than it's already been shook. his lips carefully move against yours in a way that feels so soft and comfortable you could cry again. matthews hand drops from your face and down your chest, forearm wrapping all the way around your waist until he's pulling you to stand, dragging you towards him, slipping his thick leg between both of yours.

he grunts out and the buzzer goes off throughout the area, signalling the end of a period. reluctantly, you pull away, hands caressing the side of his face. "did that hurt your head?"

the way you ask it so genuinely makes matthew feel like he's healed. he smirks lazily up at you, "no -i'm feeling really good."

the door clicks, signaling its being opened and you jump away from him, running a hand over your hair in attempt to look natural- and if matthew had to cover his crotch that was nobody's business. 

later after a disappointing end to the game, successfully ending the leafs season, you all made it home. aryne had ordered pizza as john said he wanted something greasy - which was nice. the entire time at the table, you kept catching matthews eyes, to which he'd smirk and look away. you're positive your cheeks were permanently red for the duration of dinner.

and when you slipped your foot up matthews leg and he had to cough to cover his gasp, well, you couldn't help but smile cheekily to yourself.

you were laying in bed. glancing at the clock at the top left of your phone screen you groaned put. 1:38 a.m.

without thinking much of it, you opened your text messages.

y/n tavares

you can't tell john

his replay came almost immediately.

matthew knies

I won't

matthew knies

why are you still awake?

y/n tavares

just been thinking a lot

y/n tavares

why are you still awake. you aren't supposed to be on your phone

matthew knies

🤷. it's my hourly wake up. aryne was just in here to check on me

matthew knies

why's got you thinking so much that you can't sleep?

y/n tavares

you honestly

matthew knies

me…why?

y/n tavares

because we kissed

matthew knies

<3

—

the next morning was quiet. everybody woke up around 9, even the kids which was nice. you all had breakfast together not long after waking, and then right around lunch, john and aryne took this kids to aryne's mom's, leaving yourself and matthew alone.

you walk down the staircase after returning from your room, pulling the hoodie you had retrieved over your shoulders. matthew was sitting at the kitchen island, twidling with his thumbs. he wasn't allowed screen time for 72 hours because of his concussion, resulting in a very uneventful morning.

you smile softly at him as he meets your gaze, a sudden nervousness washing over you. I mean, you two like totally made out the day prior, and you hadn't stopped thinking of his lips since.

matthew was the same way. not a second had gone by without thinking of you and the kiss, hell, it was all he could really do without his phone - even after the texts he shouldn't of responded to anyways - he would do anything for you.

"hey," you start and he smirks lazily at you.

"hey," matthew repeats. the two of you hadn't had a moment alone since the kiss and suddenly everything felt really real.

you tug at the sleeves of your hoodie, sitting down at the empty barstool beside him. "how are you feeling?"

"better now that you're here." he says easily, leaning in closer to you. you blush under his intense gaze, biting your lip as you watch his eyes flicker down to your mouth and up again. "how are you feeling?"

you frown slightly, "I'm fine?" you laugh.

"I mean, like, since we kissed." you don't say anything at first so matthew continues, "I like you, like, a lot and everything I said last night...I meant. but I didn't even ask you how you were feeling or if you felt the same way. I just want to check on you."

oh, you think, that's actually really sweet. "matthew I haven't stopped thinking about you since the moment we met. I've had a crush on you like this whole time," you say shyly and matthews smirk grows, "I was so nervous when john told me you were staying here because I thought if you were around me too much you would get sick of me and then you wouldn't fall hopelessly in love with me," you laugh. "but i suppose I was wrong."

"you were definitely wrong," he agrees, tucking a piece fallen hair behind your ear. he moves down your body until he's interlocking fingers with the hand you had resting on the table and he squeezes it three times. "when I first met you, I didn't even know you were johns sister."

"no?"

matthew laughs, "no! and then auston asked if I had met johns sister. he said you were the hot one."

you laugh, "auston thinks im hot?"

"hey!" matthew laughs, "too late for that. anyways - I thought there was no way that the most beautiful girl i'd ever seen was the sister of my new captain. I thought there was no way that...this would happen."

he gestures between the two of you and you smile sweetly.

"guess i'm the luckiest guy in the world, huh."

"I think we both are pretty lucky," you slide off the stool, and matthew spreads his thighs as you move to stand between them, your hands wrapping around his neck as his rest on your lower back, dangerously close to the round of your ass.

matthew smirks.

"so," you state, "with that being said - I want you. like, all the time. even when you go back home, I don't want whatever this is to end."

"I don't want it to end," he agrees, "I want to like date the shit out of you."

you giggle and matthews heart flutters. you're so beautiful, he thinks.

"so you don't have like a girlfriend at home or anything?" you're joking but you do glance at him with a serious look and matthew's face drops.

"god no," he says, rubbing a hand over your ass. "and you don't secretly want auston right?" but he's truly joking and you roll your eyes playfully.

"nah, the guy I want is right here," matthew leans in and presses his lips to yours, squeezing you tightly and pulling your body closer to his. you sigh into it, fingers running through his hair.

"i'm going to miss you when you're gone," you say against his mouth.

"i'll miss you," he says quickly, "but in the mean time, i'll make sure to get as much as you as I can."

you lean in to kiss him again until your phone beeps with a text.

"it's john," you say, "he says there leaving now. they'll be home in 30."

matthew smirks, "mhmm what could we do for 30 minutes...?"

you giggle, running up the stairs towards your room, matthew following.

__

"mhmm, that feels so good." your words are a breathless sigh against the darkness of matthews bedroom.

his bright eyes flicker up to meet yours, his strong arms wrapped around your thighs as he spread your legs, giving himself free range to keep pleasing you.

once matthews concussion was cleared, he headed back home for a month to visit and catch up with his family and friends. that meant leaving you and your new relationship behind. he texted you constantly, so anytime john was near, you made sure the phone wasn't accessible to him.

both you and matthew were absolutely smitten for one another.

it was his first night back from his trip back home, and seeing him again for the first time made you horny - like, immediately. but of course, you controlled yourself around your family to keep the secret a secret. and you had controlled yourself for 10 long, excruciating hours. john and aryne had gone to bed around 9 and as soon as 10 was about to hit, you snuck down to matthews room.

so here you were, with matthews mouth working wonders on your pussy - the squelching of your wetness and breathy moans were the only noteble noises in the room. "fuck, matthew, keep doing that."

he groaned against you, and it had pushed you over the edge, cumming hard all over his face and his fingers he had buried inside you.

shirtless, he crawled up over your naked body, kissing your neck up to your face until you could taste yourself on him. "fuck," he said.

you pushed him onto his back, and he smirked, watching as you climbed on top of him. you pulled his cock out of his underwear, letting it slap hard against his toned stomach. using your slick, you coated his dick before using your hand to line him against your entrance.

you sunk down, moaning loud enough so that matthew had to cover your mouth with his big hand - which obviously turned you on more.

you started rolling and bouncing on his dick fast, gripping your tits as his free hand thumbed at your clit. "fuck, i'm gunna cum soon." he told you.

you moaned, "me too."

he smirked up at you all hot and sexy, "you gotta be quiet."

you smiled breathlessly, continuing to jump on him, taking all of him inside you. between your two bodies was soaked in your juices, making the noises in the room even more intense.

matthew grabbed your hips, flipping you onto your back without leaving your warmth, where's he started to fuck you at unfathomable levels, having your mouth hang open in a silent scream.

you were almost there, the coil in your stomach was about to snap until the light in the hallway flicked on. matthew stopped his movements, his one hand covering your mouth incase any noises slipped out.

his door was locked, of course, but what if. you start to pray it's somebody just using the bathroom but matthew starts to move inside you again, giving you a smirk. fuck, you think, this is so hot.

your eyes roll back and you grip his shoulder as you cum, tightening around his length as he plummets into you. out of the corner of your eye, you can see the light flicker off just as matthew shoots his load into you, effectively bringing your attention back to him. "ugh god." he says into your neck.

how the hell were you supposed to face anybody in the house tomorrow: how the hell were you going to walk after that.

__

you and matthew had a habit of discreetly slipping out to get the mail. you actually did always end up getting the mail - but it was never about that. you two just wanted to spend time with one another, away from prying eyes and questioning.

matthew's body was big and warm pressed up against yours. the heat of the setting sun was relaxing, setting the tone for when matthew could finally slip his hand into yours.

you sighed, head dropping to his shoulder as you approached the community mail box, about half a block away from the house.

"you okay?" he says softly and your heart just about wants to melt.

"yeah," you lean your head back to look at him, "I just needed this." you squeeze his hand to prove a point. "I missed you when you were gone."

"I missed you too," he stopped walked and wrapped you in a hug. "like, wayyyyy too much - I think I jerked off like 5 times-"

"ew!" you screeched out a laugh. "you're gross."

the ways he's smirking all hot and his tan skin and he's bulked back up already from the weight drop at the end of the season and it's just...so good. it gets even better when he kisses you, right in the middle of the sidewalk. and you think you want to marry him.

—

"anything exciting happen over the weekend?" maddie asked you, her soft lips tugged up in a knowing smirk. unlike the rest of the world, she knew about you and matthew and the blossoming relationship.

"nope," you say, setting up the daily question sign, along with your ring light and tripod: ready to capture the team.

"right..." she says, "so no...I don't know - 6 foot 3, hot, muscular, brunette hockey players pay your vagina any visits?"

"maddie!" you scold, "you're being too loud." you look around to make sure nobody was in earshot.

"what!" she laughs in defence. "it's like i'm watching a romance novel, I need to ask the right questions."

you start recording as the players exit the dressing room and make their way to the rink, passing you both, slowing down to read an answer the question provided.

"what's your favourite movie?"

you were getting a nice range of answers, which was good. from oppenheimer to when harry met sally - the boys did not disappoint.

you felt a nudge to your ribs from maddie, which made you raise your brows and look up from the work on the laptop. she gestured towards the players tunnel so you followed her eyesight, only to land on matthew walking out.

immediately, you felt hot, smiling as you made eye contact with him.

he smiled back, coming to a stop to read the sign. he walked closer until he was standing as close as he could to you with still being in camera view. "what's your favourite movie?" he asked you.

you suddenly became shy, tucking some curled hair behind you ear. "oh, I - I don't know."

"yeah, you do." he said immediately, that cheeky smile once again on his lips.

you looked up towards him gobsmacked, you you just knew maddie was watching you two with an open mouth and heart eyes. it's the way he was looking at you: so adoringly.

"probably how to loose a guy in 10 days." you say.

"okay mine too." he tells you and then directs his eyes to the camera. "how to loose a guy in 10 days."

and there's no way you can keep that interaction in the video and post it because the way he talks to you is so...hot.

"okay," you repeat back to him.

"okay," he says back, gloved fingers gently squeezing yours behind the bristol board before leaving you to stand alone, giddy as you watch him skate.

—

"careful, you're gunna get soap in my eyes," you scold matthew as his hands scrub your scalp with shampoo.

"close them then," he tells you and you gasp out a laugh, slapping his strong wet chest with your hand. he smirks, his fingers working wonders over your head, you eyes having no choice but to close in pleasure.

the two of you were taking advantage of the empty house, john away at an event for his foundation, aryne and the kids out visiting her parents and grocery shopping. as soon as the door clicked leaving the two of you alone, matthew practically raced you to the shower, stripping and stepping into the spew of water.

"alright, rinse." he tells you, directing you around to let the warm water wash away the suds.

"your turn," you say. you're stretching trying to reach the top of his head and he laughs down at you.

"having difficulty?"

you give him a look and it makes his smile wider. "help me," you eventually whine out. he obeys, his large hands wrapping around the back of your thighs, pulling you up to wrap around his hips.

as you begin to happily wash his hair, you feel his soft lips trail down your neck, down the valley of your breasts, and moving to take your nipple into his mouth.

"matty," your head falls back.

he stops, unwrapping your legs from his waist, placing you gently back on the floor. "I love when you call me that." your hearts swells at the look on his face, continuing to beat hard as he grabs your face and kisses you.

kissing matthew was always amazing. his lips were so plump and soft, making for the perfect make out everytime. what feels likes hours pass, his lips not once leaving yours. you swear if you looked down, your fingers would be pruned.

a soft knock on the bathroom door breaks you two apart and you gasp, slapping a hand over matthews mouth. he raises his eyebrows at you, unimpressed by your slap, but you ignore him.

"hello?"

"hey," aryne says on the other side of the door, "we're back."

"okay," you say, trying to ignore the way matthews big hands we're feeling you up.

"where's matthew?" his hands stop kneading your ass and he gives you a bewildered look.

"oh, umm, I think he's in his room." you say quickly.

"okay," she says, "I'm going to go see what he's feeling for dinner."

"no!" you say too loud and way too quickly. it has aryne frowning, hesitating by the bathroom door.

"no?"

you meet matthews eyes. "yeah, no. I think he's sleeping."

"okay," aryne doesn't sound convinced and that had you worried. "alright, well, i'm sure he won't mind whatever I decide."

"tell her i'm down for tacos." matthew whispers and you shush him.

"I think he mentioned something about tacos earlier, If that helps." you tell her matthews wishes anyways which earns you a cheesy grin from the man.

"okay," aryne says, "alright, anyways, I'll see you when you're done."

"yup," you say, listening to her footsteps as she walks away from the bathroom. immediately you groan, head falling to your boyfriends chest.

later after everybody has eaten dinner, the kids have been put to bed and matthew and john went downstairs to watch their highlights and game plays, you and aryne sat on the living room couch, cuddled up in pyjamas and glasses of wine: aryne sipping her red and you trying not to chug your white.

"so," her demeanour shifts from fun conversations and discussing what funny things the kids did at their grandparents to a more serious, inquisitive tone and immediately you feel worried. "how long have you and matthew been seeing each other?"

you spit your mouthful of wine back into your glass, sitting up in the couch a little straighter. "what," you splutter out, "I am not seeing matthew- I-Why would you even think that."

her face doesn't change, still the knowing smirk on her lips. "y/n, I'm not stupid."

"aryne - matthew and I - I don't even like him that much honestly," you try to be nonchalant, sipping your spat out wine with red cheeks.

"oh," she sits up, "so in the span of what, 7 months, you've gone from being totally smitten and in love to not even liking him?"

damn, she got you there. "yup." you lie, crossing your legs.

"please," she says. "also, you two weren't slick today."

you give her a look.

"I mean, at first I didn't think anybody was in the shower with you - but then when matthew had come downstairs form his 'nap' with damp hair - and smelling like your shampoo, I knew."

you didn't know why you wanted to cry. but you did, and when aryne looked at you again she frowned. "don't cry," she says, wrapping you in her sisterly hug. "why are you upset?"

"because," you sniffle, "you're right. we've been seeing each other since before the summer."

aryne laughs, "I knew it."

"how?" you say into her shoulder.

"y/n, he looks at you like you created the universe - like you could do no wrong. and you look at him the exact same. I just knew."

her words give you goosebumps - did he really look at you like that?

"you can't tell john."

she pulls back from your cuddle with raised brows, "you know me, y/n/n , cmon."

the two of you cuddled on the couch in silence after that, the proposal playing quietly on the tv.

"for what it's worth," aryne says after a moment, "I think matthews amazing, and you two are most definitely perfect. It makes sense. and I would never tell him, but your brother wouldn't be mad at you - he loves matthew, and he loves you."

"I know," you hum.

and that was it. the movie was watched until you both fell asleep under the thick knitted blanket you shared, cozied up on the couch, glasses on wine now empty and sitting on the coffee table.

john and matthew came upstairs, talking amongst themselves until they stumbled into the living room, going quiet at the sight of you two cuddled on the couch in a deep sleep.

"oh gosh," john chuckles quietly, moving towards his wife. "do you mind getting y/n to bed?" he asks matthew as he gently shakes his wife awake.

"sure," matthew says.

john wakes aryne, and she groans, letting her husband drag her to bed, nothing more than a quiet goodnight passing her lips.

as they left, matthew moves towards you with a full heart. your lips puffed out as your breathed, on the verge of a soft snore. he crouched down, a hand running over your hair to wake you gently.

your eyes flutter in confusion at first, but then they spot your boyfriend and you smile. "hi."

"hi." he says with the smirk you love so damn much.

"I fell asleep," you state, letting matthew sit you up.

"I can see that," he says, pulling you to your feet.

you naw on your lip as you two begin walking to your room. "aryne knows." you tell matthew.

"knows what?" confused, he questions you.

"about us." you clarify. something flashes on matthews face that you can't decipher. you think he may be mad, but then he breaks out into a grin. "why are you grinning like that?" you can't help but smile as well.

"that means you can sleep in my room tonight," he says, dropping you to his bedroom. "john and I will be leaving for practice, and aryne won't be confused why you aren't in your own bed - because she knows."

"you're right," you whisper, admiring how excited he was. "let's go to sleep then. take me to bed."

—

october 17th

it was late when john and matthew got home from their game, party decor from matthew's 21st birthday still hanging in the kitchen, cake still on the counter.

john had nodded a goodnight at the rookie, wishing him one more happy birthday before heading up to bed to join his wife in a deep slumber.

all the lights were off, saved for the one under the microwave...and apparently the backyard light, matthew notices, the warm glow illuminating the kitchen through the glass patio doors.

making his way over, he opened the door, peeking around the corner.

you were sitting on the patio couch, bundled up in your favourite oversized hoodie, and a pair of what matthew can tell are his sweatpants.

"hey," matthew whispers and you jump slightly, hand held to your chest.

"you scared me," you laugh. he shuts the patio door softly behind him, making his way over until he was sitting next to you. "i've been waiting for you."

"here I am," he smiles, bringing you into his chest. suddenly you are grabbing a throw blanket, tossing it over the two of you to protect you from the nippy october air.

"I had all these candles lit and was gunna order your favourite food and wear that set you like under my clothes and wear one of those coats, that you know, cover it, but then," matthew loved when you rambled, "the frickin wind kept blowing the candles out, and the thai placed was closed and well I got cold so I had to change out of the coat,"

you are wearing a slight pout and matthew just chuckles sympathetically, kissing the side of your head. "that's okay."

"I wanted it to be perfect for your birthday." you concluded.

"having you next to me is perfect enough," matthew admits and you look up at him softly.

he presses a quick kiss to your lips, leaving you hot and bothered when he pulls away. he really knows how to kiss. "I have one more gift for you," you smirk and matthew raises his brows.

"I don't need anymore gifts - oh," matthew watches as you sink to your knees infront of him, unbuckling his belt. he lifts his hips to help you pull his pants down his thighs, revealing his already semi hard dick in his boxers.

matthew shivers as you reach in with your cold hand and pull his dick out, it hardening completely at your touch. he groans when your tongue licks the underside of his dick, all the way up until you reach the head. you kiss the tip softly, licking the pre - cum from his slit. "fuck baby," matthew says.

you look up at him through your lashes, a smirk on your lips and matthew thinks he could cum right then and there.

you take him into your mouth, bobbing your head as you suck him off. your hands cover the portion of his dick your mouth can't reach, the combination leaving a hot wet mess on his dick. matthew is groaning, calling out your name until he's reaching climax.

"i'm gunna cum," he says and not a moment later, he's shooting his load in your mouth. you swallow all of him, sliding off his dick with a pop.

you giggle at his relaxed face, very much pleasured out. "happy birthday," you whisper, climbing on his lap so you are straddling him.

he grabs your hips and kisses you.

"did you like your gifts?"

"I did," he chuckles, "although the hoodie you got me may have some competition with the gift I just received," you blush and throw your head back with laughter.

he brushes his lips against your exposed throat and instinctively your hips roll against his crotch looking for friction. matthew moans again.

"i'm not fucking you out here, it's cold." you decide and matthew groans with disappointment. you laugh, hitting his shoulder. "i'll fuck you inside though."

"i'm sold," he says, picking you up off his lap and setting you on the ground. you grab his hand and he says, "earlier you said you had to change out of your coat..does that mean you're still wearing lingerie underneath these sweats?"

you give him a sultry look, "guess you'll have to find out."

"you're killing me," he says, letting you drag him back inside.

matthew is a very happy birthday boy when not 5 minutes later he sees you are still clad in midnight blue lacy garments. happy 21st birthday to him.

—

you had been intently trying to finish up some work on your laptop from the comfort of your own bed before the work day ahead - key word: trying.

not only were you tired (it was almost 1 a.m.) but you were grumpy because maddie was sick, so a bunch of extra work was dumped on you and your boyfriend wouldn't stop annoying you.

matthew wasn't even doing anything that outrages, just playing with your hair and kissing your neck and he kept trying to show you funny videos on tiktok that aren't even that funny.

he tickled your side and you pushed his hand away. "you're annoying me," you say.

he doesn't buy it, so he did it again. "pay attention to me," matthew all but whines and you have to refrain from snapping at him.

he wasn't even doing anything that annoying. in fact, if it was a regular day, you would welcome everything matthew was doing with open arms, happy that your boyfriend wanted your attention. but it wasn't a normal day, the stress of the work load slowly building.

"babe, you know I want to get this done and you keep distracting me! it's annoying." your tone was sharp, a warning.

"i'm not even doing anything that bad," matthew argues like a naughty toddler, sitting up so he can look right into your eyes.

the bar of your patience has overfilled, except you don't get angry - just overwhelmed: throat tightening.

when matthew sees your eyes start to get watery, he frowns, "hey, i'm sorry." he knows you've been stressed, with like...everything and that wasn't even including the stress of having a secret relationship, which was something he was apart in. "I didn't mean to annoy you."

you sigh, sniffling. "you're not even being annoying - it's just everything is stressing me out and overwhelming me."

matthew uses his thumb to wipes your tears. "I think you should take a break for the night. we can finish tomorrow, right?"

"yeah," you huff, wiping your eyes. "I didn't mean to snap at you. are you mad at me?"

"i'm not mad at you." he laughs because your question was, well,...ridiculous. he grabbed you, pulling you down to cuddle into him. a few minutes pass of him playing with your hair in a way that didn't annoy you, pressing kisses to your hairline that has a way of fluttering your eyes, sleep on your doorstep.

your almost sleeping when matthew speaks up.

"hey," he whispers. you look up at him with gentle eyes and he pauses briefly. "you're my best friend, you know that?"

you smile. "am I?"

"yeah," he says in a sassy tone that he does that drives you up the wall but you don't even care in that moment - because you have the sweetest guy ever. "besties." he mimics a typical girly voice that you can't help but roll your eyes playfully, "besties," you agree.

he smirks all hot and you feel it all the way down to your toes. when matthew lays you down on your back and slips his big strong hand underneath your waistband - you don't protest, suddenly wide awake.

__

seeing the other wives and girlfriends wearing WAG jackets while you didn't and couldn't was never a nice feeling. there's nothing you wanted more than to wear Matthews name on your back - but instead, you stood with the teams phone to capture moments for the account: very much jacketless.

you were taking a video of TJ Brodie's kids watch their dad excitedly, giggling happy as their dad passed you a puck through the camera hole for you to gift to them.

you beam down at the blonde kiddies as his wife tells their kids to wave to their dad when suddenly you see a maple leaf player slam their body into the glass beside you. looking up, you make eye contact with matthew.

he smirks, and you try not to seem to excited in the arena full of fans, your friends and your brother. you roll your eyes at him, waving the phone as to tell him you're working but he just rolls his eyes playfully back at you. he does a couple warm ups in-front of you, which you record, because hey, it's good content.

he uses his stick to pick up a puck, gesturing you to open the camera hole. which, you do, of course. he puts his hand through, holding out the puck for you to take.

"why are you giving me this?" you ask him.

he shrugs, "just giving back to my fans."

you laugh sarcastically, taking the puck and shoving it in your jacket pocket. "how kind."

he winks before skating away.

unbeknownst to the two of you, john watched the interaction from the blue line as he was stretching, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. since when have the two of you...sure, you'd always been nice and civil to one another, friends even, john would say. but there was something on matthews face as he skated away from you that had johns heart strings being pulled.

inbetween periods, matthew had pulled out his phone, which he thought he did sneakily, and smiled at his screen, typing out a message. john couldn't help but think he was texting you - but, no, because he had to be imagining it. there's no way that the two of you have been building and involved in a romance - in his own house, at his work, that he didn't know about.

but then, at the end of the game, in the players tunnel we're you'd usually wait for them, john couldn't help but notice your face light up when you saw his teammate, and the way you squeezed his arm, congratulating matthew on a good game: john was pretty much convinced.

later that evening, him and aryne stood in their on suite, brushing their teeth as they two of them got ready for bed. john spit out his last bit of toothpaste and turned toward his wife.

"have you noticed that matthew and y/n have been...I don't know...extra friendly?"

aryne spit out her own toothpaste and giggled.

"what's so funny?" john asks her. "am I just going crazy? is that why you're laughing?"

"no, no," aryne reassures him, "you've just now noticed that matthew and y/n have been flirting?"

and john is taken aback for a moment and suddenly, anything you and matthew have ever done together, and they way you both speak to one another, always ending up sitting next to one another, hell, even the way you looked at each other...oh. "I guess I have noticed." he says momentarily.

"good for you." aryne rubs some expensive moisturizer on her face.

"are they like...In love?" he asks with a funny look on his face.

"I'm not sure," aryne thinks, "but they are definitely having se-"

"okay! I don't need to know." john says. the two of them make their way into their bed. that makes him think back to about a month ago, when he saw you cooking the in kitchen.

"hey," john says, eyes trained on his cellphone as he walks into the kitchen, back from morning skate.

"hi," you and aryne had said in sync. his wife hovered over the stove, cooking eggs and bacon while you stood at the island, chopping fruit.

he looked up then once he heard his daughters giggle, he smiles as he watches you pass her some fruit, the baby as happy as ever getting attention from her aunt.

but then - "is that matthews shirt?"

you looked up with wide eyes because yes, it was. "oh," you look down at yourself, "yeah, I didn't even realize."

suddenly aryne piped up, "I think i mixed up the laundry. I thought it was a sleep shirt."

if john saw the exchange the two woman gave each other, he didn't say it.

you definitely knew that was his shirt, john is sure if it now. with his arms behind his head, he breathes deep. "why haven't they said anything?"

"what do you mean?"

"like...if their dating, or in love - not just hooking up. why have they kept it a secret?"

"I don't know honey," aryne rubs a hand over his chest and he closes his eyes. "they were probably scared. I mean Matthew probably didn't want you thinking that you've gone out of your way for him, letting him stay here and he repays you by banging your sister -"

"aryne!" john says and she giggled.

"and y/n - she doesn't want to upset you."

"she could never upset me." john says immediately. "If they are dating...well, Matthews a good kid. he's the best possible guy for her - I don't want her to feel like she has to hide it from me."

"you should tell her," aryne flicks off her bedside lamp, letting the room become overcome with darkness. "they're cute - we should let them do their thing."

"yeah, i'll talk to them tomorrow."

the next morning, you and matthew had been cozied up on the couch. any opportunity that the two of you had in the early morning to be cuddly while everybody else was sleeping, you and matthew took.

matthew had been whispering something into your neck, making you squirm and giggle when footsteps were heard bounding down the stairs, making you and matthew scrambled apart just as john rounded the corner.

he had a look on his face you couldn't quite figure out - he almost looked...in pain but also uncomfortable but at the same time happy.

"hey," you start in hesitation, "what's going on."

he shifts awkwardly before moving to sit on the love seat. "you guys can like...continue whatever you were doing. like cuddling or whatever."

you are sure matthews eyes are as wide as yours. "what?" you ask, your tone of voice perfectly depicts your level of shock.

"I know you guys are...doing stuff." he gestures weirdly in between your bodies.

"oh my god." you cover your face. this is like having the birds and the bees talk with your parents - expect it's with your brother and your boyfriend is also there to hear it. "doing stuff? what?" you repeat.

"listen, I'm not mad."

you look up towards john with raised brows. "you're not?" matthew says before you can.

"no, god- " john leaves forward so his elbows rest on his knees, "matthew you are the nicest guy ever. you are great with my kids, and you'd be a great...are you guys like dating or is is strictly just -"

"dating." you say loud and quickly.

"you'd be a great boyfriend, especially to my sister." john continues.

"I didn't want you to think that, I don't know, you've gone out of your way to bring me into your home, and i've repaid you by sneaking around with your sister." matthew says sheepishly. aryne was really on the nose with that one.

"I don't think that." he says immediately and you can feel matthew sigh in relief beside you.

"and y/b, I could never be mad at you. you're an adult and i'm your brother, I don't control you, nobody does. I just wish you didn't feel the need to keep it a secret."

you wanted to cry because you really loved your family. 

"I just didn't want you to treat matthew any differently."

matthew looks at you with a look of confusion. he didn't know that, he just thought you didn't want john to know - not that you were trying to protect him. "really?" he asks you.

"yeah." you whisper.

"I wouldn't of," john says. "i'll still treat you the same." john watches your face relax at his words and it fills him with a nice feeling.

"alright," john says, hitting his knees and standing up like a typical dad, "so you two can get back to cuddling or...whatever, just don't french infront of me."

matthew laughs loud beside you and your mouth drops in shock. "french? who says french. you...old man."

john laughs as he walks away, leaving you and matthew alone once more. almost immediately, matthew wraps you in a hug, pulling you down on the couch.

"this is good, right?" he asks you gently, hand gently tracing your face. his eyes are so soft that you can't help but smile.

"yeah," you say back, letting matthew kiss you gently on the lips.

the sound of four tiny feet come bounding down the stairs, making you pull apart before the kids jump onto the two of you, laughing, begging matthew to turn on Bluey before breakfast. you watch in admiration as he interacts with them, and everything feels good.

—

christmas was approaching- way too fast for you liking. this time of year was only hectic in the Tavares home - that wasn't even including the load of extra work you needed to complete for upload during the small holiday break provided by the NHL.

matthew had the 22nd off (as the team had played their last game the day before) and suggested the two of you head out to do some last minute shopping - which was a relief because in all your work stress, you've barley had time to shop for anybody besides your boyfriend - so immediately you took matthew up on the offer.

the two of you had gotten into matthews car and headed downtown to begin the much anticipated long shopping day - hoping to check off your never ending list of presents.

a few hours after your arrival, matthew had grabbed the back of your neck, directing you in the direction of a hot chocolate stand, because 'you can't christmas shop and not get a warm drink' as he claims.

matthew had pretty much gotten everything he wanted to get for the family (his and yours) as did you, which calmed you down so much compared to your hectic stressed filled past couple days.

matthew had your hand wrapped in his large one, swinging them between your bodies as you made your last walk down the strip. you both sipped your hot chocolate carefully after matthew burned his lip on his, pouting until you kissed it better (you love your big baby).

you came up upon one of your favourite market stores. they always carried to most beautiful, antique looking items and most of the time you ended up loving something in the cute shop - and this time was no exception.

you had gasped slightly, your hand squeezing matthews as a reflex. "oh my god, how amazing." you were face to face with the most beautiful winter snow globe, filled with tiny fake snowflakes and a cute little village - it was right up your alley. "oh I love it."

you could feel matthews front press against your back, hovering over your shoulder to look at the antique. "it's nice." he agrees. matthew tugged your hand, "hey, I think I see Santa if you want to go sit on his lap and ask for it for christmas."

your head snapped back at him so fast your slicked back ponytail almost wiped him in the face. "ha ha, you're so funny."

he smirked in satisfaction at his own joke and tugged you into his side, kissing your temple - ignoring the way you swatted him away, claiming he was going to mess up your makeup.

__

christmas morning

a bunch of tiny knocks on your and matthews bedroom  door makes you groan out, eyes squinting to adjust to the dark bedroom.

a moment later the door opens, revealing the kids in their christmas pyjamas: eyes full of excitement.

"wake up aunt y/n!" jace says, jumping up onto your bed. you sit up, nudging matthew as you rest against the headboard.

"matthew," axton's little voice whispers. "it's christmas."

"hey buddy," he whispers, picking up the blond boy and sitting him on the bed between the two of you.

"santa came!" Jace said excitedly.

"did he?!" you asked, "are you going to show us?"

"yeah!" the boys cheered, they had dragged matthew out of bed and downstairs quicker than you could put your robe on. aryne was waiting by the bedroom door with a cup of coffee, made the way you love it.

"good morning." she hums.

"hi," you say, taking the mug and wrapping your hands around it as the two of you descend down the stairs and into the warmly decorated family room.

"aunt y/n look at all the presents!" the boys say, practically vibrating as they resisted the urge to tear up all the wrapping paper in that very moment.

"wow!," you say with as much enthusiasm the early morning would let you, taking a seat beside matthew who immediately wraps his arm around you, bringing your body into his own. it wasn't long before you dragged a throw blanket over the two of you, cuddling into him tightly.

"alright boys, everyone's here you can start." john says, holding onto his daughter. the kids laughed loudly as they started, and you swear you've never felt excitement or happiness the way you did when wtaching your nephews open gifts.

the four of you helped all the kids open their gifts when needed, which was often because they wanted to play with every new toy they opened (which was so darn cute).

an hour or so of present opening had passed, leaving the kids to entertain themselves with their new toys from santa, while the four of you got to exchange gifts with one another.

you tore open your gift from aryne, opening the white box to reveal a demin jacket with a bunch of leaf decals on it. you knew what it was immediately. "you didn't." you pull out the jacket to look at it fully, the back displaying exactly what you thought it would: Knies 23.

"oh my god," you laughed, "did you know?" your question was directed towards your boyfriend, who held his hands up in surrender.

"my lips are sealed."  he laughed as you hit his chest playfully, letting him kiss your cheek two times quick.

you couldn't help but feel giddy inside, and you bet your bottom dollar anytime you weren't working, you'd be repping your man on your jacket for the whole world to see. "I love it, thank you honey bunny," you give your sister in law a squeeze and she hugs back just as hard.

"alright, mine next," matthew says, handing you a neatly wrapped square box. you raise your brows in suspicion and start to unwrap it. "you didn't wrap this."

you knew him too well, matthew thinks. "just open it - don't jostle it around," he scolds before laughing.

"you're insufferable," you say. you are left with a plain white box, leaving you no option but to gently open the lid and - oh my god. "matthew..." you whisper, gently taking your gift out of its protective styrofoam. "you didn't."

"what is it?" john asks, trying to peek over your shoulder as he bounced baby girl.

"oh, it's beautiful," aryne says as soon as she gets a proper look at the gift, her hand held to her chest.

matthew bought you the snow globe. "the person at the cash wrapped it for me - she insisted. she's a sweet lady," matthew says.

you knew he didn't wrap it. "yeah, beth is a sweetheart."

"of course you know her name," matthew laughs. the four of you laugh at his comment before aryne jumps up, helping one of the boys build a toy, john walking off to grab a bottle for the baby.

you're still staring at the snow globe when matthew looks down at you. he smiles involuntarily, admiring the way you looked so content and happy. "merry christmas," he whispers.

you look him in the eyes and it's just like the first time you saw him. you have the biggest crush on your boyfriend. "merry christmas."

you are so in love.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

link to playlist

[luvjunie]

— sleepover

pairing: e-1610!miles x fem!reader

contains: fluffff! jeff and rio being realistic parents, miles being stubborn per usual

summary: miles’ parents finally agreed to letting the two of you have a sleepover, on one condition. however, miles was never the best at following directions. wc: 1,630

New york. The city that never sleeps.

The faint murmuring of bustling cars and the habitual honking of horns seeped through the tight seal of the shut apartment window; ironic in the way it somehow lulled you. An imperfect melody you welcomed—also the same one deemed a nuisance by those foreign to the chaos that naturally assimilated to comfort the longer you remained in Brooklyn. It usually helped you slip into a slumber with ease—but now— was succeeding in its attempt of doing the exact opposite.

And when you heard Miles expel a weighted, disgruntled sigh; you were led to believe the two of you had more in common with each other apart from the fact that you both lived here.

After weeks and weeks of begging, and endless explanations as to why exactly he needed his girlfriend to sleep over when they wouldn’t even get to utilize the time spent together because they were supposed to be asleep, Miles had finally convinced his mom and dad to let the two of you have a sleepover.

Fun, right?

Yeah, well you thought it’d be. Until his mom insisted the two of you bring your pillows and blankets and fantasies of your life as a matured couple to the living room and sleep out there. Six feet away from each other. You guys were practically social distancing like it was 2019 all over again.

The curt reasoning she offered included something about her not wanting the two of you in his room alone at night; not that she thought her son would actually be dumb enough to do anything along those lines with her in the house. You loved Mama Rio, but even if you didn’t, it wouldn’t matter. This was her house, and that meant you had to follow her rules. The fact that you were even able to come over as much as you did was a blessing in itself, so you took everything else in stride.

Miles let you take the couch of course, and he was currently sprawled out on his back on the floor, a pillow tucked beneath his head as he studied the minuscule cracks in the ceiling as if they truly interested him. Scrolling through his instagram timeline had gotten old fairly quickly, and at 1:00AM in the morning, neither of you were really motivated enough for conversation.

You were more than grateful to spend a night with your boyfriend, but this wasn’t necessarily how you expected it to go. Whenever you guys would hang out during normal hours of the day, you’d always end up in his embrace, curled and cuddled into each other comfortably. Whatever movie or tv-show you’d put on in the background begging for the same attention you’d give each other. After growing used to such a routine, that was really the only way you could fall asleep at his house.

But alas, holding your pillow close to you instead of him would have to suffice, you decided, as you let your eyes close once again.

“Baby?” Miles called out into the darkness, lip chewed in anticipation.

Silence.

He’d said only a word but you knew better than to engage. A conversation would end up with the two of you in trouble in the morning, so you pretended to be asleep.

“I know you’re awake. I counted exactly three seconds between your last two breaths and when you’re asleep it slows down to five.”

You stifled a laugh, ultimately blowing your cover. “Okay, now that’s just creepy.”

“People who are asleep don’t laugh!” he quipped.

A smile snuck onto your lips and you hadn’t the heart to reprimand it, lids peeling back open to stare up at the same ceiling he was.

“Yes, Miles?”

“Can you not fall asleep either, or have I become an insomniac all of a sudden?” The question came with a sigh, long arms spread to their full wingspan as he tried to count how many full rotations the ceiling fan made in a minute. That was how bored he was.

You sighed disappointedly, toying with the frayed tassels on your blanket. A moue on your face. “No, I can’t fall asleep either.”

“I think I know why.” he sung the last word in suggestion, hands absentmindedly drumming against his abdomen.

“Miles,” you warned, letting your head fall to the side so you could stare at the top of his head and address him directly. “Your mom gave very specific instructions, and personally, I would like to return home to mine with my head still on my shoulders.” grumbling your response, you shoved down the urge to invite him up there with you like your mind was telling you to.

He propped himself up on an elbow at that, eyes immediately making contact with yours. Your first mistake was not looking away, because those pretty pools of hazel were already starting to convince you and he hadn’t even opened his mouth yet.

“But how is that fair?” he complained, sounding exasperated. “We take naps together all the time when you’re here, I just wanna cuddle with you.” he sulked, as if you were the one who’d come up with the rule. Never in a million years would you submit the both of you to this kind of torture. You loved falling asleep in his arms.

You rolled your eyes at him, “Well, yeah. But that’s during the day, when she can check on us anytime she wants to. I don’t think your mom wants us that close to each other at night for,” The last part of your sentence faded to a jumbled murmur as your gaze traveled back to the ceiling. “…obvious reasons.”

He impishly raised a brow as if he didn’t know what you were referring to, chin resting in the palm of his hand. With only the faded lights of the city to illuminate the living room, the cheeky smile on his face went unnoticed, though you could hear it in the tone of his voice, loud and clear.

“And what reasons are those?” Miles asked, feigning innocence. His long lashes blinking at you.

Hand smacking to your forehead, you recited a silent prayer, a plea for strength. It was beginning to look like you weren’t going to get yourself out of this. “You know exactly what I’m talking about.”

His hand gestured to the air, plainly. “Well obviously. But still, we’re not dumb. That’s why I always take you to the roof when we—“

“Miles Gonzalo Morales do not finish that sentence!”

He snorted at the squeak of your voice and you used your pillow to hide your heated face.

“This is not going to help us fall asleep.” your irritated statement was muffled from the fabric of the pillowcase.

He hummed. “Exactly, meaning there’s only one thing left to try.” Slow to catch on, you didn’t realize what he meant until you felt the couch dip from the weight of his knee.

A hand trickled up the exposed skin of your thigh and it stopped when it met your sleep-shorts clad hip, the pillow snatched from your face and tossed onto the floor where he previously resided just a second ago.

“What are you—?”

He hovered over you, one hand pressed into the cushion beside your waist to hold himself up. Your question fell short when he swiftly parted your legs with his other hand and comfortably slotted his body between your thighs. A relieved sigh escaped him, his cheek nuzzling into the soft of your chest when he laid on top of you. His favorite way to cuddle.

“Shhh, trying to sleep.” murmuring a dismissive answer to your query, he let his eyes flutter to a close and snaked his arms around your waist, forearms cradling the curve of your back.

Contrary to the fight you were putting up just a minute ago— your arm curled over the expanse of his shoulders, fingers idly twirling at the baby curls that dusted the nape of his neck, something you always did to help him fall asleep faster. He let out a low, satisfied sound and relaxed into you completely, his hold on you tightening. While a part of you wanted to protest, an even bigger part wanted to remain under him like this. His weight was comforting; made you feel secure in the way a weighted blanket did.

“Your mom is not going to be happy with us.” you reminded him, stretching your other arm down enough to grab your blanket and pull it up over the two of you.

“It’s worth it. I’ll happily take the blame,” he drawled sleepily, snuggling in closer to the kiss that grazed his forehead. “I love you…” The laggard pace to his words let you know he was already dozing off, and you smiled, fatigue finally catching up with you too.

“I love you, Miles.”

— extra scene

Jeff stood in silence, arms folded over his broad chest and lips puckered awkwardly. Rio occupied the space next to him, hands perched on her wide hips, fingers tapping against them and her jaw clenched in disapproval. Her expression was everything but amused at the scene in front of them. He stole a tactful glance at his wife every two seconds, silently trying to gauge how irritated she was without having to ask her.

Sometime during the night you and Miles had switched places, and now his lanky legs were draped over the arm of the small couch and you were on top of him, clung to his body like a wet T-shirt, face barely visible seeing as it was nestled into the crook of his neck. With his mouth hanging slack as he loftily snored, Rio felt her eye almost twitch while she stared down at her stubborn son, who seemed to have magically teleported from his assigned spot on the floor and into yours instead.

“Well, I coulda told’ya that would happen.” Jeff said quietly with a laid-back shrug, to which Rio responded with a back-handed swat to his chest.

“Ow!”

Through her aggravation she still kept her voice low as to not wake the two of you, eyes narrowed at her husband. “I am going to strangle this boy, Jeff. Dios ayudame. ¡Tu hijo nunca escucha! (God help me, your son never listens!)” she griped, gesturing towards Miles’ arm that was loosely circled around your waist. She tramped down the hall, hands tossed up in defeat while she grumbled something incoherent under her breath.

Lips downturned into an offended frown, Jeff coddled his chest with his palm and followed after her, voice kicked up an octave like a nagging child. “Why is he only my son when he does something you don’t like? We made him together!”

- please do not plagiarize, copy, or repost my works to other platforms!

likes, comments, and reblogs are much appreciated 💗

[mywitchyblog]

Reacting Answering and debunking Kristine s take on shifting (girl who talked about genetics and shifting)

Let’s clear the air, babes. 💅✨"

So, I know some of y’all might have stumbled across that TikTok from @sectumsempress (Christine), and if you haven’t yet, let me sum it up: it’s a video where she dives into her takes on shifting—some thought-provoking, some solid, and others… well, let’s just say they need a little rethinking.

Now, before anyone panics or starts spiraling, let me reassure you: you’re not doing anything wrong. Shifting is a personal journey, and one person’s opinions (even if they’re loud and sassy) don’t define the truth. If you’re feeling overwhelmed by her claims, breathe, because I’ve got you.

I’m here to break down her points one by one: where she’s spot on, where she’s almost there, and where she’s just plain off the mark. This isn’t about dragging anyone—it’s about keeping the shifting community informed, confident, and empowered.

Remember, babe: shifting is real, it’s valid, and you are more than capable of mastering it. Let’s dive into this post with clarity, sass, and a sprinkle of tough love. We’re addressing it all, and we’re doing it together. 💖✨

Taglist :

1: "I don't know what it is, but I do think there is a genetic component to who can and cannot shift."

Oh, honey. Let me stop you right there. Reality shifting is about consciousness, not chromosomes. No one’s out here unlocking DRs with their DNA. If shifting were genetic, then wouldn’t identical twins always have the same shifting abilities? Newsflash: they don’t. Shifting is deeply personal—it’s shaped by belief systems, practice, and the state of your subconscious mind.

Let’s talk logic:

If shifting were genetic, why do people from all backgrounds, ages, and cultures shift successfully?

If genes dictated shifting ability, how do beginners with no spiritual training manage to shift while seasoned practitioners struggle sometimes?

This "genetic component" claim feels like an excuse to gatekeep shifting behind a veil of exclusivity. You don’t need elite DNA—you need clarity, discipline, and faith in your abilities. What you’re really saying here is “I’m struggling and need something to blame.” Blame your approach, babe, not your ancestors. Shifting doesn’t care about your family tree; it cares about your mindset. 🧬✨

2: "Out of everyone who can shift, most of them shouldn't, including myself when I first started."

Now this is projection if I’ve ever seen it. Just because you weren’t ready when you started doesn’t mean the rest of the community isn’t. People shift for their own reasons, whether it’s healing, exploration, fun, or growth. Who are you to decide who should and shouldn’t explore their consciousness?

Let’s unpack this:

Shifting is a skill, and like any skill, it comes with a learning curve. Mistakes and missteps are part of the process. No one is perfect at it from the jump, but that doesn’t mean they shouldn’t try.

This idea of “most people shouldn’t shift” reeks of elitism. What’s the criteria? Who makes the rules? Oh wait—you don’t, because this is an individual journey.

And let’s not ignore the thinly veiled guilt here. “Including myself when I first started” screams “I made mistakes, so no one else should try.” No, sis, you made mistakes so others can learn and grow. Let people figure it out for themselves—your experience isn’t universal. Stay humble. 💁‍♀️✨

3: "If shifting is affecting your current reality to the point where your mental health plummets and you can't function, the cost is too high. This is also at past me."

Okay, valid point. For once, we’re aligned—but let’s add nuance. Shifting itself isn’t the villain here. The problem arises when someone uses shifting as an escape or obsesses over their DR to the detriment of their CR.

Here’s the truth:

Shifting works best when you’re grounded in your CR. Neglecting your CR responsibilities, ignoring self-care, or avoiding real-life problems will inevitably lead to burnout. Your CR self is the foundation for all your realities. If you’re not taking care of yourself here, it’s going to show up in your DR too.

Balance is key. Shifting can be an incredible tool for healing and self-discovery, but it’s not a replacement for addressing your mental health or real-life challenges.

Let’s also call out this “past me” comment. You’re shading yourself for your mistakes, which is fair, but don’t let that self-criticism turn into fear-mongering for others. Instead of saying “the cost is too high,” try saying, “Learn from my mistakes and prioritize your well-being.” That’s the energy we need. 🧠✨

4: "I think there will come a time when shifting is able to be explained scientifically."

Now we’re getting somewhere. Yes, science may eventually catch up, but let’s not act like shifting is waiting for permission to exist. Just because something isn’t fully understood doesn’t mean it’s invalid. Dreams weren’t “real” until REM sleep was discovered. Electricity wasn’t harnessed until the right tools were developed. Shifting is the same—it’s ahead of its time.

Here’s the tea:

Quantum physics already hints at the nature of reality being far more fluid and observer-dependent than we once thought. Concepts like the observer effect and parallel universes align with what shifters describe.

Neurology is just scratching the surface of how visualization and intention shape the brain. Lucid dreaming, meditation, and neuroplasticity all prove that the mind is capable of extraordinary things.

The fact that shifting isn’t yet measurable doesn’t diminish its validity. Science is a tool, not a dictator of truth. Shifting is real now, and science will catch up later. Don’t let the lack of a peer-reviewed study make you doubt your own experiences. 🔬✨

5: "The majority of people on Shiftok in 2020 were lying."

You’re not wrong, but let’s dig deeper. Were there liars? Absolutely. TikTok’s algorithm rewards drama, and fake success stories grabbed attention. But dismissing the entire Shiftok community as liars is lazy and reductive.

Here’s what really happened:

Many people on Shiftok were genuine shifters sharing their tips and experiences. The problem was that TikTok favored sensationalism over authenticity. Real advice got buried under Hogwarts weddings and Draco stans claiming they had seven kids in one night. 🐍✨

The fake stories weren’t malicious—they were clout-chasing. People wanted likes, and exaggerating their experiences worked.

But let’s not let the liars overshadow the genuine shifters who were out there putting in the work. Misinformation thrived because of the platform, not because everyone was lying. Don’t throw out the whole community just because some people were playing the algorithm. 🌟✨

6: "Way more people outside of the internet shift than we think they do, and most of them are adults."

This one is surprisingly solid, but let’s add some layers. Shifting has been around forever—it’s not a TikTok invention. People have been exploring alternate realities under different names, like astral projection, lucid dreaming, and deep meditation, for centuries. These practices have roots in spiritual traditions across cultures, often led by—you guessed it—adults.

Why don’t we hear more about these adults?

They’re less likely to post about it online because they don’t care about clout or “DR trends.”

Many adults see shifting as a private, sacred practice rather than something to flex.

But here’s where the take falters: don’t dismiss teens and younger people just because they’re more visible online. Shifting transcends age. The internet didn’t create shifting; it just gave teens a platform to talk about it. And let’s not act like adults are automatically better at it—age doesn’t guarantee discipline or skill, hun. Stop pitting age groups against each other. Shifting is for everyone, whether you’re 15 or 50. 🌌✨

7: "Nine out of ten times, teenagers do not have the emotional maturity or mental capacity to handle a DR. I know I sure wouldn't have been able to."

Okay, this one SCREAMS projection. Just because you weren’t ready doesn’t mean an entire generation of teenagers isn’t. Emotional maturity isn’t an age—it’s a mindset. While it’s true that some teens might struggle with the responsibilities or intensity of a DR, plenty of them are capable of handling it.

Here’s what you’re missing:

Shifting is deeply personal. One teen’s DR might be about living in Hogwarts, while another’s might be about exploring their self-worth or healing trauma. What they can handle depends on their intent and preparation—not their birth year.

This take also assumes that adults magically have their lives together. Let’s be real—plenty of adults couldn’t handle a DR either. Emotional maturity is learned through experience, not something that just arrives with age.

Instead of writing off teenagers as too immature, why not empower them to approach shifting responsibly? Help them understand the importance of grounding techniques, journaling, and balancing their CR. Support them instead of gatekeeping, babe. Growth comes from guidance, not judgment. 🖤✨

8: "Shifting to live as a child when you are an adult is wrong."

Oh, let’s unpack this nonsense, because the judgment here is LOUD and unnecessary. Shifting to live as a child isn’t inherently “wrong”—it’s all about intent. People shift to younger ages for all kinds of valid reasons:

Healing: Someone who had a traumatic childhood might shift to experience the innocence and joy they missed out on. That’s not “wrong”—it’s deeply therapeutic.

Nostalgia: Revisiting a simpler time in life can be comforting and grounding.

Where’s the harm if someone is revisiting their childhood for healing or self-discovery? The only time this could be “wrong” is if someone’s doing it for malicious, fetishistic, or exploitative reasons. And let’s be clear—that’s an issue with the person’s intent, not the act of shifting itself.

This take reeks of moral grandstanding. If you don’t understand why someone might shift to a younger age, maybe try asking instead of judging. People’s reasons for shifting are complex and personal. Stay in your lane and let them live. 🍼✨

9: "Shifting to live as an adult when you are a child is wrong."

And here comes the hypocrisy. Why is shifting to an adult age suddenly a problem? If a teenager shifts to experience independence, maturity, or even just to see what adulthood is like, how is that “wrong”?

Let’s break it down:

Exploring independence: Teens often feel powerless in their CR lives. Shifting to adulthood can give them a sense of control or help them explore who they want to be.

Learning experiences: Shifting to an adult DR doesn’t mean teens are out here taking real-world risks. It’s an internal journey. They’re not suddenly going to have access to bank accounts or responsibilities in their CR.

The issue isn’t teens shifting to adult ages—it’s how they approach adult themes. If a teen shifts irresponsibly or romanticizes harmful aspects of adulthood, that’s a learning opportunity, not a reason to gatekeep. Let them explore and grow. The real world isn’t handing out “mature enough” badges; why should shifting? 🔑✨

10: "Shifting is a perception of reality that takes place inside your own mind, and this does not make it any less real."

Babe, what even IS this take? Calling shifting “a perception of reality inside your own mind” is the laziest oversimplification. It’s like saying the ocean is just “wet stuff” or the universe is just “space.” Shifting is SO much more than a mental exercise.

Here’s why this is bullshit:

Shifters report full sensory immersion in their DRs—smells, tastes, and even physical sensations. That’s not just perception; that’s a relocation of awareness.

Many shifters describe gaining knowledge or skills in their DRs that they couldn’t have fabricated in their CR minds. That’s evidence of connection to a separate reality, not just “perception.”

Saying it’s all in your head is reductive and dismissive. Shifting isn’t just a daydream or lucid dream—it’s a deliberate movement of consciousness.

By this logic, everything you experience is just “perception,” and therefore not real. Do better. Shifting is as real as the CR you’re reading this in—it’s just on a different frequency. 🌀✨

11: "Therefore, perma shifting is impossible."

Who told you this? Perma shifting isn’t just possible—it’s the logical extension of what shifting already is. If infinite realities exist and your consciousness can relocate temporarily, what exactly is stopping it from staying permanently?

Let’s debunk this thoroughly:

Shifting doesn’t require you to return to your CR. You’re not tethered here by some metaphysical leash. If you can spend weeks in a DR, why not forever?

This take assumes that your CR body is what keeps you “alive.” Wrong. Your consciousness is the seat of your existence, not the meat suit you’re wearing in your CR.

The only barrier to perma shifting is fear or lack of belief. People who say it’s impossible are projecting their own limitations. If shifting is real, so is perma shifting. Stop trying to box people into your doubts. Perma shifters are already out there living their best DR lives while you’re here arguing with yourself. 🖤✨

12: "Your body will not get up and do things while you're shifting."

Okay, I’ll give credit where it’s due—this one is spot on. Your CR body doesn’t suddenly start sleepwalking or doing the cha-cha while you’re in your DR. Shifting doesn’t override your physical body’s autopilot mode. Instead, your CR body stays in a deep state of rest, like sleeping or meditating.

Here’s why this is accurate:

Shifting is a relocation of consciousness, not physical movement. Your awareness moves to your DR, while your CR body stays put. It’s like putting your computer on sleep mode—it’s still there, just inactive.

If your CR body did start moving, you’d be blending realities, which isn’t how shifting works. Shifting creates a clear boundary between where your consciousness is and where your body remains.

That said, your CR body can react slightly to your DR state—like twitching or deepened breathing—but it’s not going to hop up and do laundry. So yes, you’re right, but don’t act like this is revolutionary knowledge. Most people know this already. Your body stays put while your mind does the exploring. 🛏️✨

13: "Most people treat scripting and shifting as a choose-your-own-path fanfic instead of reality."

This one’s got layers, and I’m ready to dig in. First of all, who cares if someone treats scripting like fanfic? Scripting is a personal tool, and people can approach it however they like. But let’s get real: scripting is way more than fanfiction.

Here’s the nuance:

Scripting is a powerful manifestation tool. It sets clear intentions for what you want to experience in your DR. Treating it like a story doesn’t make it any less valid. If imagining yourself as the protagonist in a beautifully detailed “fanfic” helps you focus, then it’s working, period.

Not everyone scripts for the same reasons. Some people use it to map out specific DR details, while others treat it as a loose guide. Neither approach is wrong—it’s about what works for YOU.

Also, let’s not act like scripting takes away from the “reality” of shifting. Scripting isn’t fake—it’s preparation. The moment you shift, what you scripted becomes as real as your CR. So stop invalidating people’s methods just because you don’t like the format. 💁‍♀️✨

14: "Putting your DR on a pedestal makes it harder to get to."

Okay, now we’re talking sense. This take is 100% accurate, and it’s a trap that a lot of shifters fall into. When you treat your DR like it’s some magical, unattainable place, you create mental resistance that makes shifting harder.

Here’s why this is true:

Your subconscious mind follows your beliefs. If you see your DR as something distant or godlike, your subconscious will act accordingly. It’ll say, “Oh, we’re not worthy yet? Cool, let’s not shift.”

When you overhype your DR, you’re also adding unnecessary pressure. Shifting becomes less about the journey and more about the desperation to “make it happen.” That desperation creates doubt, which blocks your progress.

The trick? Normalize your DR. Think of it as a natural extension of your existence, not some impossible dream. It’s real, attainable, and waiting for you—you just have to stop psyching yourself out. DRs are exciting, but they’re not fairy tales. Treat them as real, and your subconscious will follow suit. ✨

15: "I'm really excited about going to my DR in the same way that I'm really excited about going to a theme park or to a museum. Something very exciting but also very real and attainable."

Another solid take—this is exactly the right mindset. Approaching your DR with excitement, but without putting it on a pedestal, is the sweet spot for successful shifting. It’s the energy of anticipation, not desperation, that aligns your mind with your destination.

Here’s why this works:

Excitement fuels intention. When you’re genuinely excited about shifting, your subconscious is more likely to cooperate because it associates your DR with positive emotions.

Seeing your DR as “real and attainable” grounds your belief system. If you treat it like a natural part of your reality, your mind will perceive it as such.

This take is also a great reminder that shifting is a journey, not a chore. Approach it with the same joy you’d have for any adventure, and the process becomes smoother. Your DR isn’t some untouchable fantasy—it’s a place you can visit with the right mindset. Theme park energy, but make it metaphysical. 🎢✨

16: "I'm not excited about going to my DR like some heavenly dream world. That's just unrealistic."

Thank you for saying this, because it’s time to drag the “heavenly DR” myth. DRs aren’t utopias, and expecting them to be perfect sets you up for disappointment. Shifting is about experiencing another reality, not escaping to some flawless paradise.

Here’s the tea:

Every DR has challenges. Just like CR, your DR will have ups and downs. That doesn’t make it any less real or amazing—it just makes it dynamic and authentic.

Thinking of your DR as a “heavenly dream world” adds unnecessary pressure. When you finally shift and realize your DR isn’t perfect, you risk feeling disillusioned or disappointed.

The truth? Your DR is real, but it’s not going to solve all your problems or fulfill all your fantasies. Treat it as an exciting new chapter, not a flawless escape. The more grounded your expectations, the more satisfying your experience will be. ✨

17: "Judging people for what they do in their DR based on CR standards is usually wrong."

Finally, a take that makes sense! This is the kind of nuance we need in the shifting community. DRs operate on their own rules, and trying to apply CR standards to them is like judging a fish for not climbing a tree.

Here’s why this is on point:

Different realities, different rules. What might be morally or socially acceptable in CR could be completely irrelevant in a DR. People shift to explore and experience, not to replicate the exact conditions of CR.

Judging others is counterproductive. Shifting is deeply personal. Someone’s DR journey might be about exploring sides of themselves that they suppress in CR, and that’s valid. As long as they’re not harming others, it’s not your business.

Let’s be clear, though: this doesn’t excuse harmful behavior in DRs. If someone’s intentionally scripting unethical or damaging scenarios, that’s a different conversation. But for the most part, let people live and shift without your CR morality checklist. 🌀✨

18: "Every single thing you script has far-reaching consequences that you cannot imagine until you get there. If you script that you can't sweat or can't grow body hair, you'll show up in your DR with some medical condition that causes those things."

Girl, when we thought there was progress... you do THIS?! Let’s break it down, because this take is serving a mix of paranoia and half-truths, and I’m disappointed.

Yes, scripting can shape your DR reality, but this idea that every single detail comes with “far-reaching consequences” is dramatic and misleading.

Scripting sets intentions. If you script that you don’t sweat, your DR might interpret that literally, but it doesn’t mean you’re suddenly cursed with a medical condition. Your DR adapts to your intentions, not in some twisted monkey’s paw way, but in alignment with your desires.

This take leans heavily into fear-mongering. It’s important to script mindfully, but implying that a poorly worded script will backfire catastrophically is unnecessary drama.

Let’s not scare people into thinking shifting is a minefield of unintended consequences. Scripting is flexible and intuitive. If you don’t like something in your DR, you can shift back and adjust. Chill, girl—it’s not that deep. 😒✨

19: "Things in reality don't just fucking happen for no reason."

This is facts, but let’s unpack it fully. Whether it’s CR or DR, reality operates on cause and effect. Your actions, intentions, and beliefs shape your experience.

Here’s the tea:

In shifting, your subconscious mind plays a huge role. Nothing “just happens.” If you experience something unexpected in your DR, it’s often tied to unintentional thoughts, emotions, or residual CR beliefs.

This take is a good reminder to take responsibility for your scripting and intentions. You are the architect of your DR. If something goes awry, it’s not because the universe is out to get you—it’s because of how you set the framework.

That said, let’s not act like every single thing needs to be micromanaged. Part of the fun of shifting is letting your DR surprise you. Control the big stuff, but leave room for spontaneity. Your DR doesn’t need to feel like a sterile checklist. ✨

20: "Scripting yourself a dysfunctional abusive family on purpose is fucked up."

YES, babe, say it louder for the people in the back! This is a take I fully agree with. If you’re intentionally scripting harmful or abusive dynamics into your DR, you need to seriously reflect on why.

Here’s why this is so problematic:

Your DR is a space for growth, healing, and exploration. Why would you willingly bring toxicity into it? If you want to explore complex relationships, that’s fine, but scripting outright abuse is deeply concerning.

This kind of scripting raises ethical red flags. Even if DR characters are technically constructs, the energy and intent behind scripting abuse can reflect unresolved issues or harmful tendencies.

Shifting is a powerful tool—don’t misuse it by scripting negativity for the sake of drama. If you’re scripting toxic situations, ask yourself what you’re really seeking. Your DR should uplift you, not drag you into unnecessary harm. Do better. 🖤✨

Let’s wrap this up with love and clarity, babes. 💖✨"

So, after unpacking @sectumsempress’s (Christine’s) points, here’s the bottom line: Shifting is YOUR journey. Some of her takes were valid, others were shaky, and a few? Well, they needed a reality check. But hey, that’s the beauty of conversations like these—it gives us a chance to reflect, grow, and strengthen our understanding of shifting.

Remember:

Shifting is deeply personal. What works for one person might not work for you, and that’s okay.

Misinformation doesn’t define you. Always question, explore, and trust your intuition.

You are capable, worthy, and enough. Whether you’re scripting, visualizing, or just starting out, your DR is closer than you think.

At the end of the day, the shifting community thrives when we support, uplift, and educate each other. So let’s keep pushing forward with confidence, kindness, and a whole lot of sass. Your reality is yours to create—don’t let anyone dim that light. 💅✨

[hyuckswoman]

alumnusbf!mark helping you study

pairing: alumnus mark (who’s also your bf) x reader

genre: fluff

summary: you’re stressing over this one subject until your bf appears

“fucking hell” you mutter, your finals were in a week and you were currently studying the subject you have been dreading since the beginning of the study period. Studying for exams was not fun. Especially when you had this gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach telling you that you were 100% going to fail.

markie

hey babe, you busy?

upon hearing the notification, you cursed at yourself as you swore you put your phone on do not disturb to avoid distractions .Yet here you were grabbing it to check the notification. turns out you did put your phone on do not disturb but since your boyfriend (who had to practically beg you to get removed off there texted you) was the origin of the notification, your phone still notified you.

being too lazy to write back, you just decided to call him

“hey, what’s up? I’m studying for my finals right now” you say after greeting him “oh really? I’m sorry to disturb then, how long have you been studying?” your boyfriend mark asks “hours. i literally had a full on mental breakdown studying the course because i suck at it and it feels like no matter how hard I study I just keep on failing” you say sighing “did you cry?” mark asks, maybe he knows you a little too well. “yea” you sigh yet again, it bothered you to see how big of a toll your academics were taking on you

“that’s a good thing then! wait no I don’t mean you crying is a good thing I meant it’s a good thing I’m on my way with food and stuff to give you a break” your boyfriend says making you laugh “mark, look I really truly appreciate it but I also really need to study” you say. honestly seeing how fucked you were because of this one course you couldn’t allow any distractions, and lord knows mark was a pretty big one

“no I know, we’ll just eat and then I’ll help you study. trust when I’ll leave you’ll be back in your academic weapon antics” mark says. after weighing your options (not that you had much of a choice seeing as though he was already on his way) you figured that maybe it wasn’t such a bad idea. you had the chance of having a boyfriend who already graduated which meant he already passed this course so maybe it’d actually help

“hi babe, i brought food” your boyfriend says, you were glad you had a boyfriend that supported your big backed antics. “i might make you my male wife at this point” you said as he hugged you. you guys then decided to turn on the tv and put a show none of you cared about for the sole purpose of having some background noise.

“okay, we’ve been slacking off for long enough, let’s get to studying now” your boyfriend says. you almost forgot about your finals for a second.

“okay, we’re done making the flash cards, quiz time” mark says quietly laughing upon seeing your face. “every right answer you get, i’ll kiss you” he says finding a way to motivate you as you looked like you were on the verge of dying. “I don’t think it helps, you distract me too much. i’ll probably only remember the kisses and not the actual class material” you reply. As much as it didn’t look like it you were seriously (for once) in the mood to study, you couldn’t let this pretty man distract you no more.

a short while after you were thrown over your desk defeated because what do you mean you only got like half the questions right???

“I don’t understand I’ve spent literal hours trying to memorize this shit I’m sick of it I just want it to be over” you sigh, this is the first time you’ve struggled this much over a school subject. usually being a bit above average doesn’t require you a lot of efforts so you never really tried that hard to pass your classes throughout the years. college beat the shit out of you tho!! you found yourself completely taken aback by the difficulty and you had to learn how to properly study throughout the years. if somebody asked you, you’d say you’ve got studying covered but seeing how this study session was going maybe you didn’t…

“I think you’re getting those wrong because you don’t understand this part” mark says patting your head as you mumble an ‘i know’. being the very considerate boyfriend he is, he then proceeded to explain the entirety of the material, dumbing it down whenever you looked up at him confused or when your eyebrows frowned a little too much. he also was so very patient, explaining the same things to you three different times as you had already forgotten what he said as soon as he moved on to another topic.

the dedication mark put into your academics was just too much for your heart to handle, you loved him so much and the fact he didn’t mind spending his evening studying with you instead of doing literally anything else warmed your heart. that’s why you didn’t have it in you to tell him you were getting gradually sleepier and were fighting your mind to stay awake because how could you when he looked so good concentrated trying to explain to you what you deem as the most incomprehensible subject ever.

“y/n? i feel like I’m losing your attention are you- oh.” mark says finally looking up from your study sheets seeing you asleep on your desk “pft, I didn’t know I was this boring damn” he laughs. since you were already in your pajamas and were in a position where the man could not carry you to bed he decided to gently shake you to wake you up “hm? I’m sorry I fell asleep markie, thank you for studying with me I love you. let me read the cards again to make sure I understand better” you say your voice a bit groggy “what? no go to sleep, nothing you read now will be effective just rest and sleep will take care of the memorizing for you” mark says preparing your bed for you “okay but only if you join me” you say already laying down under your covers “of course dude, let me put the things away and I’ll join you” mark says as he looks over to your half awake self that’s seemingly waiting for him

being in front of your final paper makes you realize even more how lucky you are to have mark in your life because you knew damn well that if the study session never happened you would have been shitting bricks internally crying over how much you don’t understand but now you got out of the final feeling confident you didn’t fail. you ran up to mark who was waiting for you to celebrate final period being over and he couldn’t help but mimic your immense grin as you told him how the final went better than what you had expected and thanked him for his help. He did refute by telling you it was all you and your mind but settled on taking a little bit of credit after you threatened him.

it was kinda crazy how mark made everything easy, every single thing without exception. looking at your boyfriend eating his meal you couldn’t help but smile thinking about how much you loved that man and how lucky you were to have him in your life.

[champagnedstappen]

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader. This is a simple Christmas blurb. ;)

Perhaps his skin becomes so much lighter is because the colour of snow. There's theory where someone's skin is usually getting more light if the background is also light and not dark. Maybe the theory also works on him. Because in your eyes, he looks more... How can you say it? Glowing mayhaps.

You look at him thoughtfully, when you thought this man couldn't be more fine, then he always proved it. Clearly this is one of his moments. He looks at you, abandoning his skiing pole on the ground full of snow. You're shivering, sure you're using many layers, but holy shit, you're not used to cold temperatures. Clearly will never be.

"Mon cœur... Are your still shivering?" He asks. You are about to scoff, not enjoying any questions from him while he asked it with hint of humour—the urge to laugh at you, you can see it on his eyes, you know him too well anyway.

As he try reaching you while walking, leaving his pole with his friends—having conversation about skiing you clearly don't understand about, you're kicking some of the snow on the ground. You should be enjoying the trip. Last year, Charles tried to get you on board on the trip, but failed at the attempt since you were so against the cold temperatures, knowing how bad you can be.

You snap jokingly, well you can't be mad at him nonetheless. "What do you think, Leclerc?" At that, he laughs and finally standing in front of you. Hands on your waist, creating some patterns you don't really pay attention to in this situation.

"My love, I'm not laughing. I'm fully concerned," he continues. Making his face to full acting, trying to look like he's not going to make fun of you. Yet his eyes are soft, looking at you like you're his favourite person to be with, like you're all that matter. Making you knees buckle.

It's your turn to laugh before sighing. "I don't know why you asked me to be part of the trip. I can't even do anything, I'm only slowing you and the guys."

His green eyes—which you've noticed since you first met looking straight at you. There's some frowns that you hate so much. During the season, you knew how much pressure he had. Ferrari battling for the World Constructor Championship added to his shoulder, making it a cherry on top, you'd say.

After Abu Dhabi, his mood worsened. Loosing the title to McLaren certainly made his mind wander over something not certain and useless in your perspective. He kept blaming himself, thinking all What-Ifs, if only he did this, if only he didn't, if only he was better.

You hate it. You think his frown and depressive stare are your biggest nemesis. Something that you wish Avengers could fight like when they fought against Thanos.

You remember those days where you couldn't attend the Grand Prix, having jobs you needed to be at, he called you after the free practice, qualifying, hours after race—especially after bad results, he tends to be alone after bad race, not wanting to throw some tantrums or putting his anger at you. It leaves some bad spots on your emotions, seeing him so sad and blaming himself adding your personal problems with the sports.

You just want this trip to be his healing list. You don't want to worsen his days by making his holiday worse than ever.

Yet he shrugs it off. "Baby, what are you taking about? I only agreed to this winter trip so we can have our time together. If you didn't agree, I wouldn't too. I'd rather stay at home, maybe doing something funny while decorating Christmas tree with you, ma chérie."

These are the moments where you are sure that before you meet him, you never understood the situation of love. Back in the days you only think that love was impossible for you. Because in your mind, you thought, what could be love from you? There's nothing special. You're just... You. You're no model, you're no extravaganza, you're... No special.

But then there's interesting Monégasque who does anything to make you feel loved. Who's every actions makes you like you're everything. Who's actions are calculated, proofing how he would do anything for you.

Just, maybe, if you are loved too after you met him.

He continues. "We can stay in any city that you want. Summer, winter, any season doesn't matter. And like other every cities than exist in this world, there is city in my heart where you are its only population."

"Oh, Charles Leclerc. You're a fucking simp. Now teach me."

Yes, this moment definitely on your 'He's the proof where I am loved too' list.

"و في قلبي مدينة كُل سُكانها أنتي.'

"And there is a city in my heart where you are its only population." By Mahmoud Darwish.

[bratzkoo]

meddle about | hansol/vernon

Author: bratzkoo Pairing:  Lawyer! Vernon x Lawyer! reader Genre: fluff, semi-angst, smut Rating: NC-17 Word count: 3.6k~ Warnings/note: ...not detailed sex but you know minors pls don't read. Also, Jackson Wang party.

summary: choi hansol met what he said is "the love of his life" at a jackson wang party and figures out how to get her home and to make the feeling mutual.

taglist (hit me up if you wanna be added): @escoupseu , @yanabaaaaaaarysheva , @spnyin , @sousydive , @gyuguys , @gyubakeries

requests are close, but you can just say hi! | masterlist

Hansol adjusted his leather jacket in the elevator mirror, a far cry from the pristine suits he wore in court. The fact that he was even at Jackson Wang's party was a miracle - he'd spent the last three months drowning in case files and court appearances. But Mingyu had practically dragged him here, insisting that Seoul's most promising young defense attorney needed to "remember how to have fun."

The elevator doors opened to controlled chaos. Jackson's penthouse parties were legendary for a reason - the perfect mix of luxury and wildness, where idols mingled with actors, and the city's elite let loose away from prying eyes. The bass thrummed through Hansol's chest as he made his way to the bar, already spotting some familiar faces from the legal circle looking delightfully scandalous outside their courtroom attire.

"Look who finally escaped the office!" Jackson appeared, slinging an arm around Hansol's shoulders. "I was starting to think you'd turned into a legal textbook."

Hansol laughed, accepting the shot Jackson pressed into his hand. "Some of us actually have to work for a living."

"All you do is work. That's the problem." Jackson's eyes twinkled mischievously. "But I have a feeling tonight's going to change that."

Before Hansol could question that cryptic statement, Jackson was gone, disappearing into the crowd like the social butterfly he was. Hansol knocked back his shot, the expensive liquor warming his throat. He let his eyes wander over the crowd, the alcohol already softening the edges of his usually sharp attorney mindset.

That's when he saw her.

She moved through the crowd like she owned it, confidence radiating from every step. Their eyes met across the room, and Hansol felt something he hadn't experienced in years - pure, unfiltered attraction that made his breath catch. The way she looked at him sent heat coursing through his veins, a silent challenge in her smile.

The lawyer in him analyzed the situation and he who'd been buried under case files for too long decided to take action.

- Hansol made his way through the crowd, never breaking eye contact. Up close, she was even more captivating - the kind of beauty that made him forget about tomorrow's court appearance and the stack of briefs waiting on his desk.

"You look like trouble," she said, her voice carrying easily over the music.

Hansol's lips curved into his signature smirk, the one that had charmed judges and juries but felt more dangerous now. "I could say the same about you."

They fell into an easy rhythm, bodies moving closer as they danced. Hansol's hands found her waist, and the touch sent electricity through his fingertips. The music pulsed around them, but all he could focus on was the way she felt against him, the scent of her perfume making his head spin more than the alcohol.

"You're different from the usual crowd here," she observed, her fingers playing with the collar of his leather jacket.

"Let me guess - I look too uptight?" His hands slid lower on her hips, contradicting his words.

She laughed, the sound making his pulse race. "Actually, I was thinking you look like you're really good at keeping secrets."

The implication in her words made his blood run hot. Hansol pulled her closer, his lips brushing her ear. "Want to find out?"

She responded by grinding against him in a way that made him forget they were in public. The party faded to background noise as they created their own world of tension and desire. When she kissed him, it felt like a match striking gasoline.

They ended up in one of the penthouse's dark corners, her back against the wall, his hands everywhere. Each kiss was more intoxicating than the last, a desperate need building between them. Hansol couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted someone this badly.

- Morning came too soon, sunlight streaming through the windows of Hansol's corner office. He straightened his tie, trying to focus on the upcoming meeting with opposing counsel on the Kim merger case. His mind kept drifting to last night - to her taste, her touch, the way she'd whispered her number in his ear before disappearing into the crowd.

"Hansol, they're ready for us in the conference room," Mingyu announced, poking his head in. "You look surprisingly alive for someone who was at Jackson's last night."

Hansol smirked, grabbing his case files. "I'm a professional, aren't I?"

The smirk died on his lips the moment he walked into the conference room. There she was - looking devastating in a pencil skirt and blazer, her hair pulled back professionally. Their eyes met, and he saw the same shock register on her face.

"Mr. Choi, meet the opposition's lead counsel," his senior partner announced.

Hansol's perfectly crafted lawyer mask slipped for just a second. Images from last night flashed through his mind - her lipstick smeared from his kisses, her hands in his hair, the sounds she'd made when he'd...

"Pleasure to meet you," she said smoothly, extending her hand. Her touch sent the same electricity through him as it had last night, but now it was complicated by about a dozen ethical guidelines.

"Likewise," he managed, his voice steady despite the chaos in his head. Their hands lingered a moment too long.

As they took their seats across the conference table, Hansol caught the ghost of a smirk on her lips. This case had just become a lot more interesting than your average merger. He loosened his tie slightly, already knowing the next few months would test every ounce of his professional control.

The real question was: did he want to resist, or did he want to find out just how good they could be at keeping secrets?

- Hansol prided himself on his focus. It was what made him one of Seoul's most promising young attorneys. But right now, watching Y/N deliver her opening arguments to their firms' senior partners, focus was the last thing on his mind. All he could think about was how those lips had felt against his neck at Jackson's party last week.

"Mr. Choi, your thoughts on the proposed terms?" The senior partner's voice snapped him back to reality.

Hansol straightened in his chair, sliding seamlessly into lawyer mode. "The terms are aggressive. They're asking for concessions that would effectively gut our client's intellectual property rights." His eyes met Y/N's across the conference table. "I think opposing counsel knows exactly what they're doing."

She matched his professional tone, but there was heat in her gaze. "We're simply protecting our client's interests, Mr. Choi. Though I'm open to... negotiation."

The way she said 'negotiation' made his collar feel too tight. Two could play at this game.

"Perhaps we should schedule a private meeting to discuss these terms in detail?" Hansol suggested, maintaining his composed expression even as he watched her bite her lip.

Their senior partners agreed, completely oblivious to the undercurrent of tension between their young attorneys. As the meeting concluded, Hansol gathered his files slowly, waiting until they were the last two in the room.

"My office, 8 PM," he said quietly as he passed her. "To discuss the terms, of course."

Her smile was downright wicked. "Of course. I'll bring my... briefs."

The rest of the day was torture. Hansol tried to focus on other cases, but his mind kept wandering to what might happen that evening. Every time his phone buzzed, he hoped it was her. By 7:30, he was straightening his tie for the tenth time and pretending he wasn't counting the minutes.

At exactly 8 PM, she walked into his office and locked the door behind her.

- "You know," Y/N said, walking slowly toward his desk, "I've been thinking about these terms all day." She perched on the edge of his desk, her skirt riding up just enough to make his mouth go dry. "I have some... counterproposals."

Hansol leaned back in his chair, loosening his tie. "I'm all ears, counselor."

She leaned forward, her voice dropping to a whisper. "First, I propose we forget about work for the next hour." Her fingers traced along his tie. "Second, I suggest you put this desk to better use than paperwork."

All of Hansol's careful control snapped. He stood up, pulling her into a kiss that had been building since that morning's meeting. She tasted like expensive coffee and desire, her hands already working on his tie as he pressed her against his desk.

"You've been driving me crazy all week," he growled against her neck, pushing case files aside to lift her onto the desk. "Every meeting, every deposition..."

"Good," she breathed, wrapping her legs around him. "Do you know how hard it is to focus when you do that thing with your voice in court? All authoritative and commanding..."

Their professional attire quickly became disheveled, his perfectly pressed shirt wrinkled under her grabbing hands, her pencil skirt pushed up her thighs. The desk that usually held crucial case documents now supported something far more interesting.

A noise in the hallway made them freeze. Footsteps approached, then passed. Hansol caught her laughing silently against his shoulder.

"Mingyu's still here," he whispered, even as his hands continued their exploration. "We should be careful."

"Careful isn't as fun," she replied, pulling him back into a searing kiss.

They lost track of time, discovering new uses for Hansol's office furniture. His carefully organized desk was a mess by the time they finished, but he couldn't bring himself to care. Not when she looked so perfectly disheveled, sitting in his chair wearing his wrinkled suit jacket.

"We should probably actually discuss the case," she said eventually, trying to fix her hair.

Hansol watched her with a satisfied smirk. "Tomorrow. Right now, I'm thinking about taking this meeting back to my place."

Her answering smile was all the response he needed.

- The next few weeks became a dangerous dance of professional appearances and private encounters. They found every possible excuse for "private meetings" - case discussions that turned into makeout sessions in the courthouse library, depositions that led to hotel room rendezvous, late-night research that inevitably ended with them tangled together in one of their apartments.

But keeping secrets in a law firm was like trying to hide evidence from a skilled prosecutor - eventually, something would slip.

The first close call came when Mingyu walked into Hansol's office without knocking, forcing Y/N to hide behind the door while Hansol distracted him with questions about another case. The second was when Joshua almost caught them in the courthouse library, their quick separation leaving Hansol with obvious lipstick on his collar.

"You're playing with fire," Mingyu warned him one day at lunch, after noticing Hansol's unusually messed up hair post-"meeting." "Office romance is complicated enough without it being opposing counsel."

"It's not romance," Hansol insisted, straightening his tie. "It's just..."

"Just what? Opposing counsel happens to leave hickeys on your neck during case discussions?"

Hansol's hand flew to his collar, making Mingyu laugh.

"I'm not judging," Mingyu continued, "but be careful. The senior partners won't be happy if they find out their star attorney is sleeping with the opposition."

The warning should have made Hansol more cautious. Instead, it just added to the thrill. Every stolen moment felt more exciting with the risk of discovery. Every professional interaction became charged with secret meaning.

During a particularly heated negotiation session, Y/N deliberately dropped her pen just to brush against him while picking it up. Hansol retaliated by speaking in that low, authoritative court voice she'd admitted drove her crazy. By the time the meeting ended, they barely made it to the empty conference room down the hall before their professional facades crumbled.

"We're going to get caught," she gasped against his lips, even as she pulled him closer.

"Worth it," he responded, lifting her onto the conference table.

They were so lost in each other, they didn't hear the door open.

"Oh my god!" Seungkwan's voice made them jump apart. "I knew it!"

Hansol had never straightened his clothes so fast in his life. "Seungkwan, wait—"

But Seungkwan was already backing out of the room, a huge grin on his face. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. But you owe me one, Hansol!"

They stared at each other after he left, clothes disheveled and breathing heavy.

"That could have been worse," Y/N said finally. "It could have been one of the partners."

Hansol pulled her back against him. "We should probably be more careful."

"Probably," she agreed, already working on his tie again. "Starting tomorrow."

- The case was reaching its critical phase, and their professional lives were becoming increasingly complicated by their personal entanglement. During court appearances, Hansol found himself distracted by memories of the night before - Y/N in his bed, her professional demeanor completely undone. In negotiations, she'd give him looks that made him forget legal strategy entirely.

The breaking point came at another one of Jackson's parties. They'd agreed to maintain their distance in public, but after a few drinks and watching her dance with someone else, Hansol's careful control started to slip.

"Jealous?" she whispered when he finally cornered her in a quiet hallway.

"You know exactly what you're doing," he accused, backing her against the wall.

"Maybe I like making you jealous." Her fingers played with his collar. "You get that look in your eyes... the same one you get in court when you're about to win."

Hansol kissed her hard, all their pent-up professional tension exploding into passion. They were so caught up in each other, they didn't notice the flash of a phone camera from around the corner.

The next morning, Hansol walked into chaos at the office. Mingyu intercepted him before he could reach his office.

"Someone saw you at Jackson's party," Mingyu said quickly. "With her. The rumors are everywhere."

Hansol's stomach dropped. "How bad?"

"Bad enough that the senior partners want to see both of you. Separately."

The meeting was exactly as uncomfortable as expected. Questions about professional ethics, concerns about conflict of interest, discussions about transferring the case to other attorneys. Hansol sat through it all with his best courtroom poker face.

"We've invested too much time in this case to transfer it now," he argued. "I can maintain professional objectivity."

The senior partner looked skeptical. "Can you? Because that's not what I heard about your behavior at Jackson Wang's party."

Hansol's phone buzzed with a text as he left the meeting. It was from Y/N: "My office. Now."

He found her pacing, looking as rattled as he felt. "They're talking about taking us off the case," she said without preamble.

"I know." He closed the door behind him. "What do you want to do?"

She stopped pacing and looked at him. Really looked at him. "I want to win this case," she said finally. "And then I want to take you to dinner. Properly. No sneaking around."

Hansol felt something shift in his chest. This wasn't just about attraction anymore. This was about something more.

"Dinner sounds good," he said, stepping closer. "But first, we have a case to win."

She smiled, that same challenging smile that had caught his attention at the first party. "May the best lawyer win."

"Oh, I intend to," he smirked, already planning how to celebrate their eventual victory - preferably somewhere far from the office and any prying eyes.

The case had just gotten a lot more interesting, and for once in his career, Hansol wasn't entirely focused on winning. Sometimes, he was learning, there were more important things than legal victory.

- The courtroom fell silent as Hansol stood for his closing arguments. The past month had been a delicate balance - proving himself to the senior partners while dealing with the aftermath of his relationship with Y/N becoming public knowledge. Office gossip had reached fever pitch, but he'd channeled all that attention into preparing for this moment.

"Your Honor," he began, his voice carrying that authoritative tone that still made Y/N shift in her seat at the opposition table. "Over the course of this trial, we've demonstrated clear evidence that my client's intellectual property rights were not only valid but deliberately infringed upon."

He moved from behind his table, commanding the room's attention. The silver hair that had caught Y/N's eye at Jackson's party was now perfectly styled, his suit impeccable. This was Hansol in his element - the bad boy completely transformed into a legal shark.

"The opposition would have you believe this is a simple misunderstanding between companies. But the evidence tells a different story." His eyes briefly met Y/N's, and he saw that familiar fire in them - half pride, half challenge.

From the gallery, he could sense Mingyu and Seungkwan watching intently. They'd been insufferable since the news broke, alternating between teasing him and offering surprisingly good advice about office relationships.

"The documentation presented clearly shows a pattern of deliberate infringement," Hansol continued, turning to the jury. "My client spent years developing this technology. Years of research, millions in investment, countless hours of innovation - all of which the defendant attempted to appropriate for their own profit."

He proceeded to break down the evidence piece by piece, his argument as precisely constructed as one of his perfectly knotted ties. The jury was hanging on every word, and even the judge seemed impressed. This was why he'd become a lawyer - these moments where everything came down to the power of words and truth.

Y/N watched him with a mix of professional respect and personal desire that made his blood heat despite the serious moment. She'd be up next with her own closing argument, and he knew she'd be equally brilliant. Their relationship had only made them both better lawyers - each pushing the other to new heights of excellence.

As he concluded his argument, Hansol returned to his seat, catching the small proud smile Y/N tried to hide behind her professional mask. They'd agreed to give this case everything they had - to prove to everyone that they could maintain their professional integrity despite their personal involvement.

When Y/N stood for her closing argument, Hansol felt that familiar surge of attraction. She commanded the courtroom just as effectively as he had, her arguments sharp and compelling. He found himself admiring her legal prowess even as he mentally prepared counterpoints.

"While opposing counsel presents an emotional appeal," she said, giving Hansol a look that was pure professional challenge, "the facts of this case tell a different story. My client developed their technology independently, as evidenced by the extensive documentation we've provided."

The rest of her argument was brilliant - of course it was. He'd expect nothing less from the woman who could match him point for point in both legal battles and private moments. As she spoke, Hansol remembered all their late-night discussions of the case, how they'd challenged each other's arguments even as they fell deeper into whatever this thing between them was becoming.

The jury filed out for deliberation, and the tension in the courtroom was palpable. Hansol caught Y/N's eye across the room and gave her a subtle nod. Win or lose, they both knew this case had changed everything - for their careers, for their relationship, for their future.

As they waited for the verdict, Hansol reflected on how much had changed since that first night at Jackson's party. He'd walked in as a workaholic lawyer looking for one night of escape. He'd found something far more complicated - and far more rewarding.

The verdict came back in Hansol's favor, but it felt like everyone had won somehow. Y/N handled the loss gracefully, her client had already authorized an appeal, and most importantly - they were finally free from the immediate professional conflict that had forced them to sneak around.

That evening, Hansol waited in the lobby of an upscale restaurant, nervously adjusting his tie. This would be their first proper date - no hiding, no pretense of work meetings, no quick encounters in empty offices. Just dinner, like normal people who weren't trying to hide from an entire law firm.

She arrived wearing a dress that made him forget about the case entirely. "Congratulations on your win, counselor," she said, her smile teasing. "Though I should warn you - the appeal will be brutal."

Hansol pulled her close, not caring who saw them. "I look forward to it. But tonight, no shop talk. Tonight's about us."

The dinner was perfect - filled with conversation that had nothing to do with legal briefs or court appearances. They talked about everything they hadn't had time for during their rushed encounters - their dreams, their fears, their lives outside the courtroom. Hansol found himself falling harder with every laugh, every shared story, every moment where she was just herself rather than opposing counsel.

"I have a confession," she said over dessert. "That night at Jackson's party? I already knew who you were. Your reputation in legal circles... I was curious about the hot shot lawyer everyone talked about."

Hansol raised an eyebrow. "So you planned our meeting?"

"Not exactly. I just made sure I was there. Everything else..." she smiled, "that was all real."

After dinner, they ended up back at his apartment. But this time was different - no rushing, no fear of discovery, no early morning escapes before anyone could notice. They had all the time in the world.

Later, tangled in his sheets, Hansol traced patterns on her bare shoulder. "Move in with me," he said suddenly.

She propped herself up on an elbow, looking at him with surprise. "That's a bold motion, counselor."

"I'm good at those." He pulled her closer. "The sneaking around was hot, but I want more. I want lazy Sunday mornings and arguing about whose turn it is to do laundry. I want to come home to you after winning a case - or losing one. I want..."

She silenced him with a kiss. "Motion granted," she whispered against his lips.

[2000sangel]

Hello all, I wanted to dedicate some time to writing some self indulgent stuff, so here's some Adam dating HCs! Do tell me if you'd like more ^o^ Also I'm trying to play around with the format of my posts.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Adam x Reader - Dating Headcanons

✦ Adam undoubtedly has a soft spot for you; from refraining to call you distasteful nicknames to trusting you to preen his wings, many are the ways in which he demonstrates that you’re special to him, not just another Angel. You’re one of the few souls who willingly shows him kindness after all, so how could he ignore that? Despite acting like a jerk most of the time, he really can’t bring himself to be that way around you.

✦ To get someone like him to fully respect you takes a lot of time and patience; just ignoring his unpleasant comments and jokes alone won’t do, you’ll sometimes have to retort with a joke of your own, or even laugh at them. If you do it’ll boost his confidence stratospherically, it’ll make him full on puff up his chest and give one strong flap of his wings to hear you laugh at something he just said.

✦ Something that I also mentioned in another one of my headcanons posts is that he loves naps; he’s a pretty lazy guy in general, so between meetings and training he’ll surely want to relax, even better if he gets to do that with you. He likes lying on his couch with you wrapped up in his arms and wings - bonus point if you’re peacefully sleeping – with his TV playing in the background. If you’re in bed though, expect him to move around a lot as he does so unconsciously in his sleep, unless he’s holding you...in which case his arms will practically trap you and you won’t be able to leave without waking him up.

✦ Another thing he quite enjoys doing with you is playing videogames, just to chill a bit together, and if drinking was allowed in Heaven I feel like he would be the type to play drinking games. He surprisingly doesn't need much to have fun, even in the house.

✦ Adam loves eating ribs, but he can’t cook for shit. He’ll always order those or takeout on a daily basis, so you decide that it’s a good idea to teach him at least the basics. He’s very clumsy in the kitchen, doesn’t really understand how most things work but hey, at least he can tell when the water’s boiling! So teaching him how to cook his own ribs is a bit of a process, but eventually he learns and takes pride in knowing how to make his favorite dish on his own. Give it some time and he’ll be parading around and telling anyone who asks about how his ribs are way better than the ones you can get at a restaurant.

✦ Speaking of food, he’ll almost always take you somewhere to eat if you’re on a date. Even if you’re just getting fries from some stall on the side of the street, he’ll make sure you’ve gotten a treat at the end of the day.

✦ He’s a big show off too, so he’ll 100% propose you to try playing guitar only to exhibit his own skills. If you compliment him enough and you appear to be genuinely interested in learning though, he will gladly be your teacher. He will show you how to play the songs he likes them most – his own – and reward you with a ‘You rock, babe!’ or something along those lines and a kiss whenever you get something right. He’s really, really proud of you and of being able to teach you something.

✦ Adam loves casually calling you pet names. He won’t use extremely cheesy ones, but things like babe/baby, sexy and hon. He’ll use them in sentences where they don’t even really belong, even, just because he’s willing  to show you this sweet side of him that nobody else gets to witness. The one thing he will never call you is shortened versions of your name; he finds those extremely corny.

✦ He’s also not really afraid of showing his love in public, PDA is very much his thing when you two are together. Hand holding, a wing draped across your back, an arm around your shoulder...careful not to do too much though, he’s not really a fan of kissing in public or anything on the more intimate side like that. If this happens he won’t deny you a kiss or a hug but you’ll have to deal with his attitude for a while.

[erideights]

Little pieces here and there (3)

Pairing: Buggy x Fem!Reader (One Piece Live Action)

Chapters: one, two, four, five

Word Count: around 2K again.

Warnings: minimum context of the arlong park part of the story (background), MUTUAL FLIRTING, forbiden pinning of them both, Buggy has his body back *wiggling eyebrows*, sexy times

A/N: devil works hard but i'm working harder, every 5 free min i have from work/class/practices i'm writing on my phone, i'ts actually insane and i love it (ROAD TO CHAPTER 4?? If you like this one and want the next one, please let me know!)

Oh, he was mad. He was really mad.

Maybe "sexually frustrated" was a way more accurate term given the circumstances but the feeling was so strong, so visceral, he was sure he was reaching a point where jumping to the sea to end that agony -even if a bit exaggerated, like him always, everywhere and for everything- was justified.

Somewhere in Arlong Park, Buggy could feel the boner pressing his pants, demanding to be satisfied; dirty talk was one of his true passions and when (Y/N) played that card on him, being capable of picturing himself with her on his lap, that damn woman so -actually- close to his face in that moment he was already tasting her lips, her low, smooth voice driving him insane, he could not help it, but get turned on so easily and so strong is been hours, and he's still mad, incapable of stop thinking about that.

That is, perhaps, the reason he feels relief as soon as the sun rises and Usopp is back on the helm again, asking for directions as Buggy, in fact, demands to go faster. Like instead of slicing and dicing his body, his power could control the wind that propelled the boat or the force of the waves against the hull.

(Y/N) ran away just after such a -even if brief- conversation. She may have broken his balls with that dirty trick, but she was equally a victim of her own game. She knew what to say to push Buggy and leave him so stunned -to speak- that the poor clown didn't have the chance to fight back at that moment, not without his body to help him keep her in that kitchen, lift her up on the counter, force her to back down, regret even thinking she could do that to him, and then, only then, yes, fuck her until she wakes up the rest of her little and - according to him - pathetic crew with her moans.

Or so the girl imagined, leaning against the door of her room, eyes closed, heart slightly racing, fighting the temptation to lie down on the bed and masturbate thinking about what had just happened.

Which included him. Him!! What the hell, was she actually losing her mind? All that damn flirting had really gotten into her, for fucks sake, because regardless of her finding him quite interesting when they met, this attraction was something else.

Lately everything around her was something else. Did she really think through the decision of leaving her mercenary life behind and follow those kids to the Grand Line? Did she really think through the decision of flirting back with a psychopath clown?

Because in the end it's just that, right? Flirting. Was nothing else, is nothing else, and will be nothing else. She doesn’t want it to be something more, that's for sure; there's no need for unnecessary complications and extra headaches. In the meantime, it's fun, a bit of a backfire kind of situation, a bit -sexually- frustrating, but fun.

After a good ol' resting night and already some hours into the new day, (Y/N) notices that it's been a lot, since their encounter in the kitchen to be precise, that Buggy not only doesn't flirt with her, but doesn't talk that much or even look at her as amazed as before. Of course, he is, also, way less annoying, which Zoro subtly points out clearly pleased with how calm, nice and silent this morning is.

At some point she shakes her head, knowing, or at least guessing, the reason for this behavior, so she decides to check no one's around and the rudder is locked in the right direction, and then goes to where the bag with his head is, closed probably by the sniper when he got the last indications he needed from him. She opens it, lowering it until the clown's head is free on top of that barrel.

"How are you doing, Bugs?" she starts with a funny little smile, looking intently at him as she leans her back forward to leave her face level with his. "It's been hours I don't hear your raspy voice, I'm starting to miss it."

Silence. Absolute indifference besides the sidelong glance he gives her because let's face it, Buggy is annoyingly proud, extremely, exaggeratedly, but he loves attention. He likes nothing more than receiving it, no matter where, when, and from who, and she could see it as soon as they met.

"Also your silly nicknames for me" She grants, giving in. She would also be mad as hell if someone leaves her as horny as she knew she left him, so she doesn't have any problem being the one to start the tug-war this time.

"Already tired of the shidiots?" He finally asks, almost drily, after a minute; now he is the one to play difficult, huh? "No wonder, they don't even know where to start being pirates."

"Oh, of course, because no one compares to the famous Buggy The Clown, the colorful nightmare or the East Blue." Playful, she retreats a bit, resting her hip in the barrel, arms crossed over her chest.

"Quit the sarcasm doll, you know I'm right." Well, he was, in fact, right. None of them had real experience in the whole i-wanna-become-a-pirate thing, still, they were doing pretty good to be newbies. She was quite proud of them.

"I cannot wait to have my body back" he then murmurs, adding before she could say anything else about her new friends. "To do what?" She asks, you know, like she didn't know.

"Take a guess"

"Recover your spotlight? Find a new crew and a way to enter the Grand Line to go search the One Piece and be the king of the pirates?" (Y/N) mocks, clearly enjoying being the annoying one this time.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah'' Buggy rolls his eyes, scoffing. ''All that, but not before making you regret what you did last night." To that accusation she gasps, resting her right hand over her chest "What did I do last night?"

The clown falls silent again, but his mood is completely different. Right now he's not pissed off, it's obvious that this time, instead of flirting with her in a casual and natural way, he’s thinking what to say, choosing carefully his words to return a fraction of the effect she had on him hours ago.

His eyes darken, and his voice goes octaves lower and raspier. "Sweetheart, there will be no possible escape from what I plan to do with you. At the slightest opportunity I will make you cum on me so many times you will be the one to find the One Piece without needing to go to the Grand Line, but first…'' He pauses, breathes, and lets it go calmly, like the intimidating, psychopathic calculator she saw at the circus and not that flirty cartoonish version she got to know on the ship. ''you will beg for it."

She knows she shouldn't surrender to this type of tease, but she also can't and doesn't want to avoid it. Getting heavily carried away, without thinking about it twice, one of the girl's hands slides to the back of his neck, slipping under the bandana, and tugs his hair aggressively as she leans in again to speak close to his face. He grunts in pure satisfaction, closing his eyes for a second. Of course (Y/N) is, once again, taking advantage of the fact that he cannot defend himself no being more than a head, and the fact is that he enjoys like a condemned bastard those small but intense gestures the girl has given him since they met at the circus.

He can't wait to break a woman like her. And oh, he will.

"Are you sure about that?" Hearing distant steps, someone from the crew coming out on deck and climbing the stairs, she gets some distance from him, acting naturally, closing the bag again around his head. "My expectations just skyrocketed, I hope you don't disappoint."

By the end of the day, the Konomi Islands begin to appear on the horizon, and as soon as they set foot on them, shits get really serious. The situation of the poor people who live there is heartbreaking, so for two days, no one dares to make a single joke, Luffy's usual energy and bubbly positivity is nowhere to be seen, and of course, the interactions of (Y/N) and Buggy are reduced to = 0. The clown's head is no longer of any real use to them, and it’s poor Sanji, the new recruit, who’s carrying it around just in case.

At least until they reach Arlong Park.

Again, (Y/N) is not exactly the type of mercenary expert in martial arts and although she knows how to defend herself, fighting like Zoro or Sanji is, in few words, impossible. Her only advantage is being very, very fast, and knowing how to use the scenery to her advantage, so it doesn't take long for her to hide here and there among the different tents and attractions in the area to get rid of the most straggler fishmen, with a knife she got long ago during one of her jobs, capable of cutting their tough skin easily.

Everything happens so fast and is so chaotic that apart from some screams and blows in the background and having seen Usopp running towards the forest, (Y/N) is completely unaware of what is happening in the main complex.

A strong pull on her left arm activates her flight or fight response as one last fish falls dead to the ground in front of her. Raising the knife, in a quick movement, she tries to defend herself by aiming at the stranger's neck, although in vain; a pair of lips whose red has already been worn for days impact against hers, stealing her breath, a small moan escaping her. Eyes wide open, she barely registers the blurry color of Buggy's nose when two strong hands squeeze her hips as if the life of the clown depended on it, pushing the girl against the wall of the building behind them, cornering her without any type of delicacy.

She hadn't heard from him since they reached the island. Hell, she didn't even know he had got his full body back and was already so close to it that air was unable to pass between each other.

Of course, the moment the clown's head joined the rest of himself -the feeling much better than he remembered- he fucked off his captors and decided to flee. Not before making a vital stop along the way.

The ideas about how to proceed with her once he was whole were very, very different in his wild fantasies, but when he saw the girl's back, he knew that the only thing that would -partially- calm his yearning would be to kiss her before disappearing as fast as possible. To taste her lips, to feel her warmth.

Still not recovered from the shock of the kiss, Y/N doesn't remove the knife from the clown's neck, but he couldn't care less; quite the opposite. He is so turned on and waited so much -again, exaggerated- for this he doesn't know yet how he will be able to break the kiss, take distance from her, and run away.

Passionately carried away, moved by his most primitive instincts, Buggy sneaks one of his legs between hers, pressing in between them as Y/N inhales through her nose and her free hand flies to his vest, pulling it a little.

It wasn't the time, nor the place, to think about fucking that asshole, but damn, after all the teasing and the tension and the adrenaline of the fight--

And just when she starts fully giving in to him, he retreats just enough, panting a bit, and looks at her now red, stained lips, eyes darkened and full of lust. Just like hers.

"Hate to leave you like this sweetheart but I have things to do and places to go. I don't want people relating me to Arlong, I would hate the bad press on my persona." He whispers, cracking his usual cruel, playful smirk when he finally puts some distance between each other.

‘’It's time to exit stage left.’’ Buggy adds, theatrically raising both hands in the air. ‘’I promise I’ll see you around.’’

And like this, he stars running away again. Where? She doesn't know, or even guess at this moment, too busy registering the kiss in her memory, the way his lips felt on hers, how his nose pressed her cheek the entire time, or his hands grabbed onto her for dear life.

Bastard.

''You better'', she whispers to herself.

[springtyme]

Maybe something with Steve x f!reader where she is a bit inexperienced and insecure when it comes to dating ad steve askes her out but she is oblivous and thinks it's just as freinds but steve really likes her

𝐔𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐫𝐬 ♡

Steve Harrington x reader || Main masterlist || Steve playlist

summary: If anyone had told your high school self that in a few years you would become friends with Steve Harrington, you would never have believed them, but here you are.

word count: 4.1k

𝐎𝐜𝐭𝐨𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐂𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞: 𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟏𝟗) 𝐇𝐚𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞

The crisp autumn air wraps around you like a cozy blanket as you step out of your house, one hand clutching your purse while the other fiddles nervously with the hem of your sweater. Tonight is the annual Hawkins fall festival, and you are beyond excited, you’ve always loved this time of year and Halloween is just around the corner. You’re especially excited because Steve asked you if the two of you should go together, which, if you had been told this a few years back, you would never have believed. 

Back then, Steve Harrington was the quintessential popular kid: the cocky, charming, handsome, jock,  always surrounded by a group of friends, the king of cool himself. He was all the things that you were not. You were the quiet girl, the one who blended into the background, often lost in books or daydreams. You had admired him from a distance, never once as much as imagined that he’d ever as much as acknowledge your existence. 

But people change. Steve has transformed over the years, shedding his old persona for something deeper, something more substantial. You have become friends after you started working full time at family video with him this summer. It was awkward at first; the memories of your high school days still lingered in the back of your mind. But as the weeks passed, you found a rhythm together. Steve’s charm was still there, but now it was complemented by kindness and genuine interest in those around him. He was no longer just the popular kid; he was just Steve—and you happen to really like this Steve. 

Sometimes you think that he might feel the same way about you. There are those moments when his gaze linger a little too long, or when he will lean in a little closer than needed to laugh at something silly you said. He seems to always remember the little things—your favorite candy, the books you love, how you like your coffee—there’s a comfortable warmth that has built between you, something that simultaneously feels completely normal and natural yet so confusing. 

You don’t know what to make of it all, all you know is the butterflies in your stomach are practically doing the cha-cha everytime he looks at you, which makes you feel silly, you’re not his type, but the feeling is undeniable. 

You take a deep breath, the cool air filling your lungs, and step outside fully. Steve is standing by his car, a warm smile lighting up his face as he catches sight of you. His hair is slightly tousled by the wind, and he’s wearing that dark green sweatshirt you mentioned under his jacket that you had mentioned you liked a few weeks ago.

“Hey,” he calls out, a smile spreading on his face as he sees you, his eyes sparkling in the golden light of the last sun of the day that illuminates the street. 

“Hey!” you call back, trying to match his energy as you walk towards him. You notice the way his gaze flickers from your face to your outfit—a simple but cute sweater and jeans—but also the way you feel inexplicably warm inside, even as a light breeze rustles the leaves around you.

“You look great,” he compliments, his smile growing wider as he opens the car door for you. You slip inside, fighting back the blush creeping up your cheeks. “I’m really glad that you said yes to come with me, I really wasn’t sure if you would say yes.”

You nod, excitement bubbling in your chest. “Of course. This is going to be fun.”

Steve smiles at your words, a soft one that makes your heart flutter even more. “I’ve been looking forward to this all week,” he admits, starting the engine with a low roar.

The drive to the festival passes quickly, filled with casual chatter and laughter, though you can’t help but feel like there is a slight tension in the air between you. The festival lights twinkle in the distance as you park, and your heart races at the sight of all the attractions—the hay bales, the pumpkins, and the Ferris wheel glowing in the twilight.

As you step out of the car, Steve reaches to grab your hand, a brief but electric moment that makes your pulse quicken. It surprises you, and you, more on instinct than thought, do a little jolt of surprise as you feel his warmth enveloping your fingers. Your action seems to startle him as well. He quickly lets go, and you both look at each other, your cheeks heating as if you’ve both just felt the thrill of a secret.

“Uh, how about we start with the ferris wheel?” he suggests, trying to mask his own awkwardness as you move towards the ticket booth, the festive air filled with laughter and the scent of caramel apples.

“Yeah, that sounds perfect,” you reply, your voice a little shaky as you try to regain your composure. You keep your eyes on the colorful lights strung above, using them as a distraction from the fluttering in your stomach. Friends hold hands, especially in crowded areas, it’s completely normal, but you have just made it weird. 

You purchase your tickets, and while waiting in line, you sneak glances at him, noticing how the festival lights cast a warm glow on his features.

As you stand in line to the ride, the excited energy of the festival surrounds you, yet the moment feels isolated within its own bubble. The cheerful screams from the rides seem distant as you steal another sideways glance at Steve. His brow is furrowed slightly in concentration as he watches the ferris wheel turn, his hands stuffed into his pockets like he’s trying to keep himself grounded amidst the bubbling awkwardness that seems to linger between you.

“Do you… um, like ferris wheels?” he asks, his voice tinged with a hint of uncertainty, breaking the comfortable silence while trying to affirm the choice of ride.

You chuckle lightly, appreciative of the effort he’s making to fill the space with conversation. “I think they’re great. It’s nice to see everything from up high, even though I’m a little afraid of heights.” The confession spills from your lips before you can second-guess it.

“Uh oh,” he grins, his tension visibly dissipating as a laugh escapes him. “Guess I’m gonna have to protect you from the edge then.”

“Right,” you reply, your heart racing a little faster. There’s something so comforting in his charm, so disarming in the way he manages to make you laugh while also feeling slightly vulnerable.

There’s only a few more people ahead, you can hear the laughter and excited shrieks of those already atop the ferris wheel, and your heart flutters nervously. The excitement of the ride combines with the nervous energy between you and Steve, creating a concoction of emotions that feels exhilarating and terrifying all at once.

Finally, your turn arrives, and you step into the little cabin of the ferris wheel, Steve following behind you. The moment the door closes, you feel an immediate sense of closeness. You both sit on the bench as the ride begins its slow ascent.

A gentle breeze wafts through the cabin as you start climbing higher. The view below spreads out like a beautiful tapestry—people laughing, lights twinkling in the cool night air, and the pumpkin patch glowing in the distance. For a moment, despite that familiar feeling of fear that jolts through your stomach and chest from the height, you’re moved by the beauty of it all.

But just as quickly, the magic of the moment shifts, and you become acutely aware of Steve next to you. The cabin sways slightly, and instinctively, you lean in closer to him, hoping to steady yourself. Your shoulder brushes against his, and the side of your thighs presses against each other, and suddenly, there’s an electric charge in the air again. 

Steve seems to notice, too; his breath hitches slightly, and he glances at you, his brown eyes searching yours for a brief moment before darting away, a hint of color rising to his cheeks. The world outside the ferris wheel becomes a distant memory, the vibrant festival lights melting into a blurred backdrop as the two of you share this intimate space.

“How’re you holding up?” he asks, attempting to calm you with that signature Steve Harrington smile. It’s warm and inviting, and you can’t help but return it, hoping it conveys the mix of excitement and anxiety brewing within you.

“Honestly?” you start, biting your lip slightly as you consider whether to admit the truth. “I’m a little scared, but being up here with you helps.” You hope your honesty doesn’t make things awkward again.

“I’m always available whenever you need to ride a ferris wheel,” he says, trying to lighten the mood, but both of you can sense the shift. His arm brushes against yours, and you can feel his warmth radiating through the thin fabric of your sweater.

“What would I do without a friend like you,” you reply. You really are grateful to have him in your life, you’ve never been the girl with the most friends and most of the ones you have moved away from Hawkins after high school, but in this moment you can’t help but wish that you and Steve could be more than that. Your gaze drifts down again, watching the world spin beneath you, so you don’t see how his face falls slightly from your words. 

The air between you thickens with unspoken words, the gentle rocking of the ferris wheel almost amplifying the silence. You focus on the lights below, momentarily getting lost in the vibrant colors and sounds of laughter, but your mind drifts back to Steve. Thoughts of his warmth against your skin make your heart race even faster.

“Hey,” he begins, his voice slightly hesitant, forcing your attention back to him. “I was thinking about…um, going to the hayride after this. It’ll be fun, right?” He’s trying to recapture the lightness of the moment, but there’s a different edge to his tone, almost insecurity.

“Sure,” you reply, maybe a bit too fast, wanting to seem interested in his idea and hopefully get the vibe between you back on track.

He smiles at your enthusiasm, but it’s a small smile, one that doesn’t quite reach his eyes as he turns his gaze back to the ground below, watching the festival swirling around. The brief flicker of uncertainty in his expression doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and it makes the butterflies in your stomach flutter even more wildly.

Once the ride ends and you both exit the cabin, the festival feels even more alive, filled with laughter, screams, and the smell of fried food wafting through the air.

The lights twinkle like the stars above, casting a gentle glow over everything, but the feeling of electric tension still lingers. Forcing a smile, you look over at Steve, hoping to read his expression. He’s glancing slightly shyly at you, scrunching his hands in his pockets again—a telltale sign of nerves.

“Let’s head to the pretzel stand first,” you suggest, wanting to ease the awkwardness. The buttery, salty scent of the pretzels wafts through the air, beckoning you. Plus, you could use a little snack to settle the butterflies.

“Yeah… great idea,” he says, looking towards you, but you break the eye contact too quickly, feeling an odd mix of courage and shyness wash over you. As you walk together, the distance between you feels both far and impossibly close. 

When you approach the stand, the line is relatively short, which is a relief. You’re both quiet as you wait in line. You order two warm, buttery pretzels, and as the vendor hands them over, Steve pays, insisting it’s his treat. You protest, arguing that you could cover your half, but he brushes you off with a simple, “no, no, I got it. I was the one who asked you out, remember?” 

You know that he didn’t mean it like that, but a small warmth spreads in your chest at the thought of this being more than just a friendly outing. You quickly push the thought aside as he hands you your pretzel, mumbling a, “thanks,” without looking him in the eyes. You know that you’re being dumb, you just wish that you could keep your feelings in check, but he looks too good in the sparkling lights, his eyes twinkling in a way that almost hurts. 

There is something about being here with him that feels so bittersweet. It’s easier to just not look at him. You take a bite of your pretzel, the salty goodness grounding you in the moment, and glance around at the festival, trying to focus on the lively atmosphere rather than the tension curling in your stomach.

 You keep eating in silence and you keep focusing on the surroundings of the fair around you, looking anywhere but at Steve besides you. You glance at the spin-the-wheel booth nearby, where a group of kids cheer excitedly as one of them wins a stuffed animal. You can’t help but envy their carefree joy and excitement. You don’t know why you have to find everything so difficult as you stand here with Steve, who was once so far out of reach.

It’s not like you want to ignore him, but suddenly you just don’t know what to say or how to act around him. Growing up, you’ve never been the one people chose, and the idea of going to a fair with a boy who you like and who is as sweet to you as Steve is overwhelming, one of those things you have romanticized, and now that you’re actually here, in a way that is so close to that teenager fantasy you had, but still not in the way you had dreamed of—with someone who just sees you as a friend and colleague.

“Are you alright?” Steve’s voice breaks through your thoughts, the hint of concern in his tone making you look up. He’s studying you closely, his brow slightly furrowed and that adorable furrow in his forehead deepening as he watches you. “You’ve been a bit quiet since the ferris wheel. Was this like… a bad idea?”

“I’m fine!” you assure him a bit too quickly, and you wince at how defensive it ends up sounding. 

“Okay…” he replies, a flicker of uncertainty crossing his features. It stings more than it should because you know he cares, and that makes it even harder to explain what’s going on inside your head.

You continue to walk in silence for a moment, the vibrant sounds of the festival contrasting with the uncertainty hanging in the air between you. Your heart feels heavy, torn between the joy of being with him and the fear of ruining the one precious relationship you currently have. With each step, a battle rages in your mind, and the taste of the pretzel suddenly feels stale.

“Ready for the hayride?” Steve finally asks after you’ve finished your pretzels, breaking the awkward stretch of silence that had settled between you.

“Yeah, sure,” you respond, trying to sound chill and casual, but you’re afraid it comes out sounding more like indifference. 

When you reach the hayride area, you find a rustic wooden wagon decked out with hay bales and pulled by a tractor, its engine humming softly. The laughter of children playing nearby fills your ears, and for a moment, it feels like the weight of the world has been lifted. You both hop onto the wagon, taking a seat on a hay bale amid a group of families and friends, and once again, you feel the familiar warmth of Steve beside you.

The tractor lurches forward, and you cling to the edge of your bale as the wagon bounces along the dirt path, the chill of the autumn air mingling with the warmth radiating from Steve. He adjusts his position slightly, leaning closer as the wagon sways, and the subtle change sends your heart racing.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asks, concern lacing his voice as the ride jostles you both slightly.

“Yeah, I’m fine—just enjoying the view,” you reply, your gaze fixed on the canopy of stars beginning to twinkle above, but your heart is still tuned to him. 

He chuckles softly, but it is a sound that feels somewhat insecure. “I mean, it’s a nice view, but… I would kind of hope you would look at me every now and then.”

Caught off guard, you turn your head to meet his gaze. There’s something in his expression—vulnerability mixed with that boyish charm—that feels disarmingly sincere.

“I’m sorry if I have read things wrong, or if you felt like you had to say yes to this because I asked you,” he continues, the usual lightness in his voice replaced with an honest sincerity that makes your heart race. “We can just forget that this was ever supposed to be a date and just hang out as friends if that's what you’d prefer.”

Your breath catches in your throat, and for a moment, the world around you fades into a blur. The sound of the tractor and the laughter of kids playing in the distance become muffled as all your focus shifts to him. ‘This was supposed to be a date…’ Did he really just say that?  

Your heart races in your chest, both from the weight of his words and the vulnerability etched in his expression. You’ve always thought you could keep your feelings hidden, but now, watching him wrestle with his own insecurities, you can’t bear the thought of losing what you’ve built together over these past months.

Your breath hitches, disbelief coursing through you. “This is a date?” It feels surreal, and your mind races to catch up with your heart.

“Yeah,” he affirms, his gaze steady and sincere, each word punctuated by the thrum of your pulse. The admission hangs in the air, heavy and exhilarating.

“Oh,” you manage to breathe out, the weight of his words settling in like the leaves falling around you. Your cheeks flush, warmth flooding your entire face as you try to process what this means.

Steve seems to realize the misunderstanding, his facedeepens with a mix of hope and anxiety. “I mean, if you want it to be…” He shifts slightly, clearly feeling exposed, but the earnest look in his eyes anchors you to the moment.

You can hardly believe this, the butterflies in your stomach now performing a whole concert rather than just a cha-cha. “Sorry, I didn’t realize…” you stammer, trying to find the right words while your heart races like it’s in a sprint. “I thought we were just… hanging out as friends.”

His expression shifts slightly, a blend of relief and a hint of hurt flickering across his features.

“Shit, I should have made it clearer when I asked you out. I was pretty nervous… It’s totally okay, if you don’t feel the same, but I really hoped we could be… more than just friends. I really like you, you know?” The determination in his voice swells with sincerity, and your breath catches again, this time for an entirely different reason. His honesty floods the air around you, and for a moment, everything seems to fade—the laughter, the stars overhead, the gentle bumps of the wagon.

You can hardly process the whirlwind of emotions crashing over you like a tidal wave. “You... really like me?” The surprise in your voice is undeniable. You had convinced yourself that the interest was one-sided, a figment of your imagination conjured by the butterflies and the lingering glances.

“Yeah, I do,” he reiterates, an earnest smile breaking through his initial unease. “I didn’t want to rush anything, but spending time with you these past months has been so much fun. Back in high school I always thought you seemed so smart and cool and you know… really pretty. But I didn’t think you would be into a dumb jock like me.” His voice carries a hint of vulnerability, making you melt a little more for him.

Your heart swells at his confession, and the rush of emotions leaves you momentarily speechless. “I thought you weren’t into girls like me,” you finally say, your voice barely above a whisper, vulnerability seeping into your words.

“Girls like you?” he echoes, eyebrows knitting together in disbelief. “That’s just not true. You’re incredible. You’re smart, funny, and you’re not afraid to be yourself.” The sincerity in his voice sends a shiver down your spine, filling the gaps left by all the self-doubt that had crept in over the years.

“I… I like you too, Steve,” you admit softly, your heart pounding against your ribcage as the truth finally escapes. The world around you falls away, the crackling of the hay under your knees and the sounds from the festival merging into a blurry background.

He smiles at you, that same breathtaking smile that had made your heart race all summer long. “Really? I mean, wow. I was worried I might have stepped over the line, putting us in some weird situation,” he admits, relief washing over his features.

You shake your head, a joyful laugh bubbling up. “You could never make things weird. I just didn’t realize you felt that way. I always thought I was just... you know, the quiet girl with the crush.”

“Yeah?” He raises an eyebrow, and there’s a twinkle in his eye that feels like your own secret shared between the two of you. “Well, turns out we’ve both been a bit clueless, huh?”

You laugh, the sound bubbling up as you realize how amusing this whole situation is. “Seems like it,” you say, shaking your head in disbelief. “I never thought you even noticed me.”

“Trust me, I noticed,” he responds, the intensity of his gaze making your stomach flip. “We can take this slow, just enjoy the night, but I want you to know that I would love to be more than just friends.”

His eyes search yours for reassurance, and at that moment, amidst the laughter and lights of the festival, the world around you shifts into clarity. You both breathe deeply, holding onto this newfound connection as if it were the most precious thing in the world.

With the stars twinkling above, the tractor bumps along the path, and you can’t help but lean a little closer, feeling bolder in the warmth of his confession. “Okay,” you finally respond, your heart fluttering at the thought of all that could come next. “I mean, I’d like that.”

Steve beams, a boyish grin spreading across his face. As the tractor lumbers along, the bright lights of the festival twinkling in the distance. And then, without thinking much at all, you lean in, drawn by some instinctive need to close the distance between you. Your heart beats wildly, anticipation hanging thick in the air as you catch the scent of the autumn breeze mixed with the sweetness of caramel apples and the warmth of hay all around you. Time seems to slow as he meets you halfway, and in a heartbeat, your lips brush against his in a soft, tentative kiss. It’s sweet, electrifying, a spark that ignites every nerve ending in your body.

You hold your breath, momentarily surprised by how right it feels—like fitting the last piece of a puzzle you didn’t even know was missing. When you pull back slightly, the look in his eyes is pure wonder, the fluttering tension replaced by something warmer and deeper. 

“Wow,” he breathes, a soft laugh escaping his lips as if he can hardly believe it just happened. The smile on his face is electric, and your heart swoops at the sight of it. “That was—”

“Really nice,” you finish for him, you still feel the imprint of his lips against yours. It surprises you how natural it felt, how right—as if you had been waiting for this moment without even knowing it.

“Definitely,” he nods, his smile only getting wider as the reality of what just happened sinks in.

You chuckle lightly, your heart still racing as the aftershocks of the kiss continue to pulse through you. You lean your shoulder against his. Steve’s arm finds its way around you, pulling you a little closer, and you feel safe, excited, and thankful that tonight is unfolding in a way you never dared hope.

The wagon lurches forward again, providing a firm reminder of the bustling festival around you. You both settle into a comfortable silence, your shoulders brushing against one another, and it feels like you’re creating your own little world away from everything.

Thank you for reading! Reblogs and comments are always greatly appreciated ♡