#but my mom and I were in shambles

[whenthegoldrays]

Met up with a friend today who was telling us that her mom died a month ago and my mom and I were sitting there with RIVERS running down our faces while she calmly and serenely told us the story

[claratyler]

Do you ever think about how pets only live like 12-17 years, which is NOTHING, and somehow you're lucky enough to coincide and share those ≈15 years with your very own specific kitty or doggy? How wonderful is that. Out of the entire history of time, they're only here for a few years, and we have the honor to be there with them

[barneysbigstompers]

indont understand the appeal of 4chan or thr dark web honestly or even liveleak when it was still up and running ooo speaking of liveleak

[hyp3rfixation-h3ll]

ily "betrayus was friends with pac's parents" truthers ! please imagine sunny's horror having to watch their best friend (bff since highschool if you're like me and like adding Extra Spice) be executed , and Definitely not grieving after seeing someone he cared for deeply be put in a the pacworld equivalent 2 the electric chair :3 they're fine

[insomnianoctem]

pleeeeaaase just one job interview i'd love to know someone is at least reading it its been 5 months since i had a job....

[love-belle]

looked for stars and i found a supernova !!!

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ in which it takes a random song drop and a feature from a university student for their relationship to come to light.

or

for when it became true, opposites do attract. ˚ ༘♡ ⋆｡˚

social media au // charles leclerc x fem!sargeant!reader

warnings - language

author's note - i am SO sorry i have no explanation for not posting except for the fact that i am now unemployed (i finished hs and don't start college till like august) and i just do Nothing the entire day. i love u all thank u for sticking around <3

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, landonorris, lilymhe and 729,816 others

yourusername boys are SO stupid and it's so endearing and frustrating like u r such a DUMBASS pls let me kiss u on the lips (i did ❤️)

8,628 comments

username hahahah!!! funny joke babe!!! kids and i and our goat miss u ❤️

username and like just that my bisexual ass cried tears (i never had a chance)

-> username she's for the girlies every man back OFFFFFF

username going insane over this

username i know logan is in shambles rn like that brother is distraught

-> yourusername he hasn't stopped calling me i had to block his number

-> logansargeant UNBLOCK my number i am your BLOOD

-> yourusername fuck off i will call mom

-> logansargeant have you ever known sanity in your life

-> yourusername have you ever felt loved

-> yourusername sorry can u please tell mom to stop yelling at me it's scary ok

-> username she did NOT need to do him like that

-> username oh that was FOUL

username she's so pretty i simply cannot believe a man can rizz her up

username do we ignore y/n violating her brother like that orrrrr

-> username u are an only child it seems

-> logansargeant it's just that she's mean

-> yourusername go and drown in a pond since u wanna act like a silly goose

username why is charles in the likes he don't even follow her

-> username i have the most funniest and silliest theory and im afraid saying it out loud will send logan into early retirement

alex_albon evil laugh

-> yourusername i pay u ENOUGH. any more and i will have to involve my lawyer WHAT DO U WANT

-> alex_albon ferrari has exceptional pasta

-> yourusername ahahahhajaha what's that got to do with me u little clusterfuck of a twink

-> alex_albon oh! absolutely nothing!

-> username i am screaming what the fuck

-> username "little clusterfuck of a twink" OH MY GOD

username crazy how everything she says is so real idk if that's the fan in me or i am just way too fucking down bad for her

*liked by charles_leclerc*

username love love LOVE see this rep bc my man is such an idiot but it's ok cus he's my princess

-> yourusername YOU GET IT !!!!! he's my princess <3

logansargeant what are you doing

-> yourusername tryna slut him out n then build a lego set w him

-> logansargeant i always knew you would be the one to bring generational shame to our family what is this behaviour

logansargeant what happened to "if i ever talk to a man again i want you to be disappointed in me" ?

-> yourusername u were disappointed in me nonetheless fym

-> logansargeant i

-> maxverstappen1 i can tell we would be great friends yourusername

-> logansargeant no way

logansargeant what happened to BIOLOGY you were supposed to be STUDYING

-> yourusername i did study

-> yourusername his anatomy

-> alex_albon logan just deleted this app i hope you're happy

-> username Y/N PLEASE HESITATE

-> username CRYINF SHE'S SO UNHINGED

username the way i can feel logan's mortification through the screen 😭😭

username when will it be me

username love to see women in stem (seducing the enigmatic men) idk im proud of her i know she was crying abt not finding the love she read bout

-> yourusername this might be my favourite comment ever i adore u

username prophecy be looking a bit too permanent 🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣 who's gonna change it 🤣🤣🤣 i am on my KNEES 🤣🤣🤣🤣

username everyday i learn something new about y/n and everyday i praise the lord that i can exist at the same time as her

*liked by charles_leclerc*

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 2,629,916 others

charles_leclerc you're in her dms, i wrote a song for her in under a day when we weren't even dating. we are not the same.

12,628 comments

username CRYING WHAT THE FUCK

username oh my god is this real

username CRYING THE SONG IS TOO GOOD

username HIS VLOCE JIS VOICE HIS VLICE HIS VOICE

username going crazy rn what the fuck

username HELLO?????? WHAT IS THIS

username need me a man like this thank u

username too much unpack he has a GIRLFRIEND and it's Y/N

-> username HE PULLS??? HE PULLED HER???

username this is life altering

username shaking from excitement i cannot WAIT for logan to download instagram again and be Surprised

landonorris disgusting

-> charles_leclerc forgive me for not wanting to hide my love ☹️

-> username NAH WHO GOT HIM LIKE THIS

username "thinking bout her eyes every hour she's my wildflower" OH HE'S IN LOVEEEE LOVE

username his voice oh my god

-> username tears dripping down my thighs

-> username OHMYGOD

maxverstappen1 "we are not the same" thank god

-> charles_leclerc bubonic plague 🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠🦠

-> username nurse he's out 🗣️🗣️🗣️🗣️

-> username nah who got him being funny

-> username DID PEOPLE SERIOUSLY NOT LISTEN TO THE SONG

-> username NO WAY THAT'S Y/N AT THE END

-> username "okaaaaaaay" CRYINF I LOVE THEM

username my life has been divided into before this song and after this song and im so grateful for that

username i think the most important thing here is who out of all his friends owns a toyota in which the heat don't work

username crying bc wdym charles wrote a song for his gf when they weren't even dating

username in love with y/n's voice at the end WHY IS THAT SO CUTE

-> username screaming i need this song injected in my veins

yourusername craaaaaaaazy how u never told me that ⁉️

-> charles_leclerc details details

yourusername cool song

-> charles_leclerc thank you i wrote it for my girlfriend

yourusername AHSHDHDJJSJSJAJS IN LOVE THIS WAS SO GOOD UR VOICE IS INSANE I LOVE IT SO MUCH

-> charles_leclerc THANK YOU !! ❤️

-> username they make me SICK

-> username calm bf 🤝 hyperactive gf

username the most important question is did logan re download this app

-> yourusername he did but then he saw this post, heard the song and deleted it again

-> yourusername he's just bitter i am bsfs with max before him

-> logansargeant disowned

-> yourusername my grad pic on the mantle BEGS to differ !!!!!! u are on the piano u have no room to talk

-> logansargeant i'm pushing you out of this year's christmas card

≡.;- ꒰ °twitter ꒱

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by charles_leclerc, lewishamilton, maxverstappen1 and 899,527 others

yourusername got him to say he would still love me if i was a worm n now we go on walks and i point at every worm and say sorry i can't be her

tagged charles_leclerc

12,628 comments

username NO WAY THIS JS REAL

username i just want a detailed description of how they met and who asked the other out ☝️😞

username my roman empire the fuck

username the way their personalities crash when will it be me

username THE CAPTION IM SCREAMING

username the way she will never let that man know peace and i am so EXCITED

username she's so unhinged i love her

username LET IT ONCE BE ME PLEASEEE

username blocked (im laying on the highway tonight)

username the way i know logan had to be sedated

-> username my man did nothing wrong why are they torturing him 😭

alex_albon we're down one driver at williams

-> yourusername is it a good time to tell u that i recently got my license

-> logansargeant YOU FAILED YOUR TEST 5 TIMES FUCK OFFFFFFF

-> yourusername big emotions

-> username im cryinf what do you mean shw faield the test 5 TIMES ????

username LMAOO THE LAST SLIDE 😭😭😭 I LOVE HER

username parents dare i say

username max is not happy i can tell

-> yourusername i received a very strongly worded message from him yesterday and the only thing i could make out was that he's a bitch for charles like. a BITCH.

-> maxverstappen1 blasphemy

-> logansargeant NO WAY you're buddies with MAX VERSTAPPEN before ME back OFFFFFF

-> yourusername nurse he is out again 🗣️🗣️🗣️

-> username what are they doing to my boy 😭

logansargeant y/n please. THINK.

-> yourusername i did

-> logansargeant AND ?

-> yourusername he's nice i will keep him

-> logansargeant NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

-> yourusername god forbid a girl wants to date a questionable man

-> charles_leclerc ?

username crazy how this is the most random couple ever and we're instantly like PARENTS !!!!

-> username i for once love them like the cultural clashes we're gonna get heh

charles_leclerc my love please

-> yourusername my pronouns are she not her because i'll never be her 🪱

-> charles_leclerc stop

charles_leclerc and can you please tell your brother to hesitate before speaking? he just offered me candy and a dollar to break up with you

-> yourusername FUCK U I AM WORTH WAY MORE THAN CANDY AND A DOLLAR

-> charles_leclerc that is not the issue here

charles_leclerc pretty girl

-> logansargeant keep your thoughts to yourself you hormonal vulgarian

-> yourusername TIME OUT FOR U let my bf live

-> charles_leclerc this is how my life is going to be from now on?

-> yourusername are u complaining (threatening)

-> username i KNOW logan is shaking behind the screen he just called charles leclerc a hormonal vulgarian

-> username sibling rage takes people places they wouldn't go with a gun

username this is hilarious

username logan's likes on twt are mind blowing like what do u MEAN u wish the plague on ur sister 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

-> yourusername u should see what his texts look like

-> yourusername "you need an excoeciscism for the demon in u it might an issue idk" followed by quora links

-> username siblings ❤️

≡.;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

liked by yourusername, logansargeant, carlossainz55 and 2,729,915 others

charles_leclerc silently working on our own little crafts in the same room tonight, queen? ❤️

tagged yourusername

11,628 comments

username CRYINGGGGG I HATE HIS GUTS

username LET IT ONCE BE ME HOLY SHITTTTTT

username they're so parents it's insane

username he's so relatable bc i too would be obsessed with y/n

username he definitely has one of those t-shirts that say "i ❤️ my gf"

-> yourusername he has one in every colour with diff fonts :((((

-> username GOODBYE

username need me a man who will sit in my general vicinity while we work on our own silly little crafts together

-> username charles might've just set a standard idk NEVER SETTLE FOR LESS

username that text.............im violently ill

username the matching rings wow god really does have favourites

yourusername wait a sec i got 12000% error on my scale

-> landonorris how do you even manage to do that

-> yourusername if u think women don't belong in stem just say that

-> landonorris STOP IT MY PR TEAM IS HUNTING ME DOEN FOR SPROT TAKE JT BACK

-> charles_leclerc shame on you

-> landonorris WJAT DID I DO

-> username crying they're terrorizing people for fun 😭

-> username we deserve this

yourusername fighting demons (a degree that i chose to study) to be on my phone bc my BOYFRIEND posted

-> charles_leclerc don't give logan more reasons to send me vaguely veiled threats

-> yourusername he does WHAT

-> logansargeant sending him links on how people got away with murder is HARDLY a threat idk why you're like this

-> username no way they got him UNHINGED

-> username 😭😭😭😭😭 he's so

yourusername MY BABY LEO 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

-> charles_leclerc i am right there

-> yourusername so is leo 💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞💞

yourusername are u mitosis bc i never metaphase as cute as urs

-> charles_leclerc i am too dumb to understand this but you are the prettiest

-> yourusername king i am so in love with u

-> logansargeant i judt tfeew up

-> yourusername leave me ALONE

username i hope all the happy couples break up (why couldn't it be me in a relationship)

username SCREAMING HE'S SO DOWN BAD

[hrrtshape]

things i manifested in the last 5 months.

◞ a trip to paris with my mom, because, obviously, i deserve cinematic montages of me walking along the seine in sunglasses and a red coat.

◞ a trip to italy’s ski resorts with my dad and brother, living my best après-ski la dolce vita moment, probably in a fur-lined coat, giving ‘mysterious heiress with a past.’

◞ a trip to ibiza. . .do i even need to elaborate? the sun, the sea, the absolute lack of thoughts in my head, just vibes.

◞ becoming more prettier. a few months ago, i took that test where a robot “according to science” calculates how pretty you are. i got about 52%, skip to right now and it shows 80%!!!!

◞ a trip to the belgium grand prix because i am a girl of culture and i like watching millionaires drive in circles really, really fast. everyone PLEASE manifest that charles leclerc falls in love with me.

◞ losing weight after ED recovery, but in a way that felt good and right, not in a ‘war with my body’ way, but in a ‘my body is thanking me for treating it with kindness’ way.

◞ and by extension… eating however much i want. not only in that “oh, i eat however much i want and don’t gain” (although, yes!!!!), but also that i don’t feel absolutely horrible, horrid and disgusting after eating past 8 o’clock.

◞ excuse my french, but, growing an ass!!!!!! this one gets its own fanfare because how does one thrive off a diet of carbs, croissants, burritos, and soy milk lattes AND still develop the physics-defying, gravity-defying, renaissance sculpture of a derrière??? the laws of biology are in shambles. the gym hasn’t seen me in months and it will continue to do so.

◞ my mom’s business POPPING OFF. the celebrities in my little nation are in her dm’s, the business is expanding into so many places, and the success!!!!! it’s only just beginning.

◞ shifting to my fame dr for 20 minutes and meeting timmy t!!!!! one second in my bed, the next in a make up chair. a cameo from hollywood’s favourite brooding poet boy. did he fall in love with me instantly? maybe. was i effortlessly captivating? always. the chemistry? palpable.

◞ cocktails!!! everywhere. i don’t even have to ask my parents anymore, they’re always in my hand at the perfect moment. divine intervention in mixology form.

◞ always being at the right place at the right time. no missed busses, no wrong turns, no long lines, no awkward “why am i here” moments. just perfectly timed entrances like i’m starring in my own movie. I AM the meet-cute.

◞ my mom and dad FINALLY getting along. a historic event. peace treaties (actual contracts) were signed, egos were dissolved, and my mental health got a break it so desperately needed. love this for 9 year old me who was probably getting bpd as everything occurred.

◞ my little safe space (shifttblur, my little prophet oracle shenanigans) taking off. the church of muad’dib is THRIVING. and i’ve gotten so many kewlest friends<3

◞ my hair isn’t as oily anymore. and i DIDN’T EVEN SWITCH PRODUCTS. science is flailing, trichologists are confused, but i’m simply basking in my newfound ability to go days without dry shampoo.

◞ my nose??? smaller? upturned?? nature is quite literally BENDING to my will. my face is sculpting itself to perfection, no consultation necessary.

◞ also!!! my lashes have grown an INSANE amount. falsies who???

◞ my intuition reaching oracle of delphi levels. i don’t even need to second-guess things anymore. if i sense something, it’s FACT. the accuracy? terrifying. my inner knowing? undefeated. the people around me? spooked.

◞ eloquence. this is, lowkey (high-key), the most fortunate thing that had ever happened to me. i am patiently sitting and waiting for that 100% on my essays.

◞ me and my dad finally getting along. not in a dramatic, movie-moment way, just in the little things. the conversations that didn’t feel forced. the jokes that actually landed. the quiet understanding that we’re both trying, in our own ways.

◞ money. just… money. not in a lottery-winning way, but in a “somehow, i always have enough” way. in a “random discounts appear when i need them” way. in a “people keep handing me little opportunities” way. a quiet, steady flow.

◞ my painting and drawing skills getting better without me even noticing. one day, i just looked at something i made and thought, wait….when did i get this good? and that was a nice feeling.

ib the amazing @solanasreality who i got the idea from !!

[submattsmxmmy]

🖤 content warning: 🖤 smut, heavy step sibling kink, risky, fingering, teasing, edging, ruined orgasm, degradation, humiliation, unprotected sex, squirting, roughdom!stepbro!chris, bratty!stepsis!reader

🖤 author's note: 🖤 this is my work! i promise i didn't steal it. this is my backup account. :) someone reported this fic on my first account. :( if you don't like the content, don't read, but don't ruin other people's orgasms. (it's only hot when stepbro!chris does it!)

this is part two of holdyourbreath, and you can read part one here 🖤

🖤 summary: 🖤 when you decide to get all bratty with chris at the family dinner table, he's not going to let it fly, and he doesn't care who's in the room with you.

holdyourbreath part two

You trotted down the stairs and into the kitchen for dinner, and the delicious smell of barbecue chicken wafted through the air. You scoffed and rolled your eyes after making eye contact with your annoying step brother, who was seated at the family table.

You thought he was revolting and vile, and you secretly couldn't stop fantasizing about him since he shoved his throbbing, hard cock down your throat a few weeks prior.

Your dad and his mom were both still cooking, standing in front of a sizzling pan and a pot of boiling water on the stove. "I made your plate for you," your dad told you, motioning to the table behind him. Of course, your place at the table was right beside Chris, and you begrudgingly took your seat next to him, tugging down on the hem of your skirt as you situated yourself.

"Glad to see you finally come down. My mom made me wait to eat until you were at the table, too," Chris rolled his eyes at you, taking a bite of chicken. "Oh, no. Did you have to wait for something for once in your life?" You pouted your lips at him, mockingly, picking up your fork to take a bite of your steamed vegetables.

"Are you talking back to me right now?" Chris said is a raspy, hushed tone, placing his hand firmly on the inside of your thigh. You widened your gaze and looked up at his hypnotic blue eyes. Surely, he wouldn't do anything with your parents right there. They might have had their backs to the two of you while they cooked their own dinner, but it was risky.

"I said, are you talking back, princess?" Chris leaned in and whispered into your ear, but his voice still sounded agitated and angry, even in a low whisper. "You wouldn't," you responded back, narrowing your glare, smirking, and keeping your volume low.

Chris took this as a challenge. He moved his hand from the inside of your thigh, slid it up your skirt, and started moving your panties to the side, and as he slipped two of his fingers inside of you under the table, he watched your smug smile fall and become a desperate, needy expression. "Oh, but I would," Chris replied softly, willing to do anything to prove you wrong.

You were enthralled by how easy it was for Chris to act nonchalant, his right hand dipping below the table, exploring your hole, and his left hand, holding a drum stick while he bit into it, holding eye contact with you the whole time. He acted as if everything were completely normal.

You tried to maintain the same facade, taking bites of your food and trying to remain as composed as possible, but the way Chris ran his fingers up and down your wet folds, teasing your clit, had you in shambles. He stimulated your sensitive bundle of nerves, rubbing small, tight circles as he watched your eyes starting to roll back in your head.

"Be better at concealing your pleasure. Fucking whore. You're gonna get us caught," Chris growled in a volume just above a whisper. He roughly shoved his fingers back into you, but he kept his thrusts long and slow, teasing you.

"How do you guys like the chicken?" Your dad asked, peeking over his shoulder. "It's so good, daddy," you managed to get out, biting your lip after to keep any moans from escaping. Chris pulled his fingers out of you for a moment and looked into your eyes as he licked them clean.

"Mmm, delicious. I haven't tried the breasts yet, but the thighs are so tender and juicy. Compliments to the chef," Chris replied with a shit-eating grin on his face, shoving his fingers back into your heat. He was obviously talking about the chicken.

"Thanks, Chris. I'm glad you like it," your dad said, completely oblivious to the fact that Chris was manhandling his daughter under the family dinner table. "Good job. He's hard to please. So picky," Chris' mom peered over at your dad.

"Nothing wrong with being picky. I just know what I like," Chris responded, casually carrying on conversation with your guys' parents while he looked into your needy eyes, his curious hand dipping into your pussy.

You fixated on the way Chris' fingers curled inside of you, stimulating your gspot. You could feel every detail of every bone of his long, slender digits as they penetrated you, and you savored the incredible sensation.

"Like that, step sis?" Chris leaned in and rasped into your ear while he watched the pitiful expression carved into your face as you started getting close. You nodded, your heart nearly thumping out of your chest and your palms drenched in perspiration. You didn't know how you were going to hold it together through your climax.

Chris could read your face. He knew how badly you needed to cum, but he couldn't reward you for talking back. Plus he knew how pathetic you were, and how impossible it would be for you to act casual while finishing all over his fingers, so he removed them just as you were at the tipping point.

He had built you up just to ruin your satisfaction right before you could release. The corner of his lips curled into a malicious expression as he watched the light leave your eyes.

"No. Please," you whispered, grabbing his hand and trying to put it back where it was, but he tugged it away before you could. "I had to wait to eat because of you. Now it's your turn. Don't hold your breath, princess. Or do. But you might die waiting," he smugly chuckled next to your earlobe.

"Mmm," He licked his fingers clean once more and withdrew all attention from you, going back to eating his chicken. "Please," you nudged him in the leg with yours under the table as you begged him quietly to keep going. He didn't bat an eye at you. "Chris, please," you whined a bit louder while your parents were distracted and talking amongst one another.

He loved the way you begged, but he was going to make you wait regardless, and he wasn't going to so much as look at you for the rest of dinner. You felt pitiful, pleading with your step brother to make you cum with his fingers while your dad and his mom were in the same room as you while he blatantly ignored you.

You soon gave up, shutting your legs, frowning down at your plate, and picking at your chicken. The rest of dinner was quiet and uneventful. Both your parents sat down at the table with you guys, trying to pry into the details of your personal lives, but you and Chris gave them just about nothing to work with.

And how could you? What were you supposed to tell them? You were upset because your step brother had ruined your orgasm? Or that you were incredibly sexually frustrated all the time because Chris had cum in your mouth a couple weeks earlier, and you couldn't stop thinking about it?

You gave them one-worded answers and excused yourself from the table after you'd finished eating.

Thankfully, it was Chris' turn to clean up after dinner tonight, and while he was in the kitchen doing the dishes, you thought about how good it would feel to relieve yourself, but you needed Chris as much as you hated to admit it. You could never recreate the way his fingers so effortlessly reached certain places. You could never recreate the feeling of your step brother's cock in your throat.

Plus, you were worried that if he caught you getting off without him, he'd punish you further and make you wait even longer to cum.

So, instead you collapsed onto your bed, deciding to take your mind off your throbbing clit and bury yourself into a book you'd been meaning to read but hadn't picked up yet.

Several hours later, your step brother barged into your room. "Give it to me," Chris demanded, climbing onto your bed, hovering over you and holding out his hand to take something from you. You gave him a confused look. "My book? Since when do you read?" You laughed at him.

"Shut up, slut. You think you're so fucking hilarious. I know ya have it," Chris accused you. "Have what?" You asked nonchalantly, laying on your back and flipping through your book, trying to pretend you weren't getting massively turned on by the way he spoke to you.

"I know you have somethin' that's mine," Chris growled at you quietly, narrowing his eyes. "Fuck you. I don't have anything that's yours," you rolled your eyes, kicking him away and chuckling at him. "Talk back to me one more fucking time, slut," Chris whispered, giving you a look of contempt and pushing back up against you. He kept his voice low so he wouldn't wake your parents who were asleep down the hall.

"Fuck you, Chris," you snarked back, laughing at how pathetic he was being. "Last chance," Chris said, nudging open your thigh with his knee. "Beg for it," you smirked, clocking the desperation in his eyes. "You've done it now," Chris rasped at you, forcing your legs open with his.

"I said you have somethin' that's mine, princess. Hand it over," Chris said in a growl. "What do I have that's yours?" You asked, getting turned on by the way he was on top of you, pushing your thighs apart. "That sweet, juicy pussy. Just because it's between your legs doesn't mean it isn't mine," Chris whispered, unzipping his jeans, and in one fell swoop, he'd pushed up your skirt, pulled your panties to the side, and without much warning at all, he stuffed you full with his cock.

You looked up at him, wide-eyed and gasping as he stretched you out, still holding your book. "I'm all the entertainment you need, fucking whore," Chris smirked at you, ripping the novel out of your hands and tossing it on the floor. You nodded at him, lost for words.

The thrusts he delivered were slow but hard. "Fuck. You don't need any foreplay or anything do ya, doll? You just take it so willingly," Chris said in a low but dominant voice. "Unless you've been up here, playing with yourself," he glared at you.

"I promise. I wasn't," you shook your head, trying to keep a straight face while he fucked you, but every time he slammed his cock into you, you let out a pathetic little whimper.

"Better keep quiet so Mom and Dad don't hear me ruining your pretty little pussy," Chris rasped at you, putting his hand over your mouth. You slowly nodded, giving him your most desperate stare.

Your eyes started to roll back into your head as his thrusts picked up speed and power. You couldn't believe you were letting your step brother fuck you senseless, and you couldn't believe how much you loved it. Your muffled moans became louder as he took what rightfully belonged to him, and you couldn't have given it up more easily.

He looked at you with his mesmerizing blue eyes that were usually so good at concealing his dark desires, but you could see through his facade more now than ever. He loved this. He loved watching you submit to him. "Fuckin' whore," he breathlessly grunted through his slightly parted lips while he relentlessly hit your sweet spot over and over.

"You're such a naughty girl. Almost came all over my fingers while your dad was ten feet away from us. I bet you loved it. I bet I could take you anyway I wanted, anywhere I wanted, and you'd let me," Chris growled under his breath. You nodded, grasping pathetically at the blanket beneath you, your knuckles losing color while you squirmed under Chris.

"Getting close? Wanna cum?" He cooed, watching the way you started to lose control of your body. You nodded at him, his mouth still stifling your pleasured sounds. "I'm gonna remove my hand, so you can beg for me, but you better stay quiet, and you better not talk shit to me. Got it?" He said through gritted teeth. You eagerly shook your head yes, and he did as he said he would.

"Beg me to let you finish," he whispered, biting his lip while he slid his cock in and out of you at an incredibly steady and fast pace. "Please. Please let me cum," you quietly whined, using every bit of your might to keep yourself from cumming without his permission.

"Come on, slut. I know ya can beg better than that," Chris replied, maintaining his stamina while he drove you closer and closer to the edge. "I need it, Chris. Please let me cum. Please. I'm begging," you softly whimpered, tears starting to form in your eyes.

"That's it. Beg a little harder," Chris devilishly grinned down at you. "I'll do anything for you, Chris. My pussy's all yours. Please let me cum. Please please please. I can't take it anymore," you begged in a needy whisper.

"You look like a pathetic fuckin' mess," he made fun of you. "I am a mess, Chris. All for you. I'm such a little whore. I can't hold out this long. I need to cum more than anything," you pleaded with him, still trying to keep your voice down, but miserably failing.

"Cum for me," he finally said, smirking at you, getting off on the fact that he got you degrading yourself while you begged. "Cum on my cock," he repeated, his voice becoming more breathy as he chipped away at his own orgasm.

You did as he said, clenching around him rhythmically while you violently shook beneath him as you tipped over the edge. It was such a powerful orgasm that you really felt like you were falling. Your stomach dropped, and you found yourself grasping at anything, scratching Chris' back and tugging on your sheets while your climax relentlessly overpowered you.

It ripped through you, leaving you an even more pathetic mess than before. Of course, you were familiar with what an orgasm felt like, but there was something unique and even more powerful about this one. That's when Chris' eyes widened as he peered down at the mess you made on him and the sheets, and he came shortly after, having realized he'd just made you squirt.

He waited until the last second to pull out, stroking himself to orgasm while he busted all over the inside of your thigh. His grunts were deep and louder than either of you anticipated. His face was contorted in an expression of pure pleasure, his jaw falling slack and his eyes glazing over. He loved the way his thick, white substance glistened on your flesh.

"Holy fuck. I didn't know you were a squirter. That's so fucking hot," he smirked, licking his lips and narrowing his gaze. "I didn't know either," you responded, panting and laughing.

"You really are a little slut. Squirting all over your step brother's dick," Chris said, pulling away from you and stuffing his drained cock back into his pants. "Well, princess. You made your bed. Now lay in it," Chris sneered at you and disappeared from your room.

thank you for reading. this shit was too fucking good to not re-upload. i will be uploading part three to this account once i write it, but for the sake of ease, i'm not tagging anyone in the third part. you'll just have to look on my masterlist on my main account. thank you. 💖

[xoxo-sarah]

Hello my love I have a request for a reader who is like best friends Stevie and you know he’s a caretaker of the group, so she kind of is too anyways she is the caretaker always the mom of the group and everything but he can pick up on some signs that maybe she doesn’t wanna always take care of everybody else like maybe she wants to be taken care of, and he slowly starts doing things for her. But maybe she is reluctant to accept the help so she kinda gets snippy at him queue a frustrated, love confession from Stevie to her. Ends happy because my life is in shambles and I need a happy ending.

Distant

↝a/n: thank you for requesting. I hope you enjoy! 🩷

↝pairing: Steve Harrington x female!reader

|| Disclaimer: I do not own Steve Harrington, or any character from Stranger Things. I only own y/n and any characters I create with my own brain. ||

↝⎙ 12.20.24

Steve had always been the caretaker of the group. Whether it was driving the kids around or making sure everyone was safe, he was the go-to guy. But there was someone else who shared this role with him—his best friend, you. You were the “mom” of the group, always looking out for everyone and making sure things were in order.

You had become close to the kids shortly after Steve had. Dustin liked you, liked how Steve acted when you were around. It was also fun for Dustin to pick at Steve when you weren't around; talking about how Steve would blush when you looked at him. You never seemed to notice, though.

It wasn't unusual for you and Steve to be attached at the hip. You pretty much thought as one. One followed after the other. So it was natural when you took the group of kids under your wing. You would do anything for them. That was evident when you had a stern talking-to with a group of kids that were messing with Dustin's group at school. You had spent countless nights making and bringing them food when they were busy playing DND. You always made sure they had a ride home. Or, if they needed to go somewhere, you were the first to call. It became a habit to pick Steve up on the way, if he wasn't already with you when you got the call.

It was fun, spending time with them. They were funny and nice, a contrast to other kids their age.

But, all the times playing “mom” could be tiring. It seemed like every time you got the call, you would drop everything. They needed you, why would you decline?

It was one specific night when you had finally had enough.

Dustin kicked Lucas' feet out of the way, walking toward the phone. He knew your number by heart. Honestly, it's a surprise the number hadn't worn off from how much he typed it in. The phone rang…and rang. Usually, you would've picked up by now. Dustin turned, looking at the clock. 2:37 pm. You were off work today. You typically answer. Plucking the phone back into the base, Dustin turned, eyebrows furrowed. “She didn't answer.”

“How are we supposed to get to the arcade?” Mike sat up straighter, kicking himself for breaking the chain on his bike. Nancy was at Jonathan's, and his parents were out with Holly.

“Call Steve.” Lucas looked at Dustin like that was the obvious answer.

Nodding, Dustin turned back to the phone.

“She didn't answer my call either.”

Steve sighed, turning down the familiar street. The other kids were squashed in the back of Steve's car as Dustin sat in the passenger seat. The kid was quick to tell Steve about his worries. Sure, you just didn't answer the house phone. But that wasn't like you. If you had missed it, you always called back. Or called from Steve's house phone.

“Maybe she isn't home.” Mike watched the trees out the window. Truthfully, he just wanted to go to the arcade. He had a high score to beat. Yours, specifically.

Pulling into your driveway, Steve unbuckled, before getting out. Your car was parked in front of his. “I'll ask if she wants to come with.”

Steve practically skipped to the door, knocking and waiting. It took a few moments before you opened the door. “Hey,” Steve took in your appearance. You looked tired, sleep clumped at the corners of your eyes, eye bags apparent. “Uh, the kids were wondering if you wanted to come with us to the arcade.” He used his thumb to point behind him, where the kids were watching.

“Um,” You opened your mouth, looking at the kids, before furrowing your brows. “You know, I actually have to catch up on some sleep.”

“Oh, okay. Dustin was worried about you. You didn't answer his calls or mine.”

“Yeah,” I have a life outside of you and the kids. I don't have to constantly drop everything to play pretend and do their parents job. “I was asleep.” You weren't going to tell him about how you listened as the phone rang, not daring to even get up from the couch.

“alright, just wanted to check up on you.” Steve turned, not wanting to leave, but feeling like you wanted him to.

You smiled, “thanks, and sorry. Enjoy dealing with those hooligans all by yourself.”

Steve laughed, before you closed the door.

~

Days passed, and it was always the same answer. You had other stuff to do. Until Steve came to visit you at work. He saw you through the window, laughing with a coworker. You looked like you. He missed it.

“I'm having a little get-together at my house tonight. You should come. Food, board games, movies. Everything you love.” Steve smiled, begging you with his eyes.

For some reason, you couldn't say no this time around.

As you all gathered at Steve's house for a movie night, he noticed something different about you. You seemed a bit more tired, your smile a little less bright. You were still taking care of everyone, getting everyone snacks, making sure everyone liked the movie before it was put in, but Steve could see the weariness in your eyes.

You didn't pay attention to the movie, mind elsewhere.

“What's going on?” Steve had asked, after everyone was asleep, and you helped clean up.

“What do you mean?”

You didn't meet his eyes, instead focusing on grabbing the candy wrappers and throwing them away.

“You're distant. You don't answer the phone anymore. Did I do something? Did one of them do something?”

“No.” You sighed, “No one did anything. I just…I'm tired. I don't want to be the caretaker all the time.”

Steve slowly nodded, letting you know he was actually listening.

“I mean, I've had to drop so many things just to take them somewhere or pick them up. I have my own life, you know. I have a job so I can pay bills. If I wanted to be a mom, I would have kids myself.” You hated how that made you sound. You felt selfish for wanting time for yourself, but it's just how it is. They're not your kids, you're not their mom. You're a young adult that has to live life without the constant burden of children.

“You don't have to. I'll talk to them-”

“No. Don't do that. It's fine.”

“It's obviously not fine. You're having to ignore us just to get some free time. I'll talk to them.”

You dropped the trash bag, looking up at him. “I said no. It's not that big of a deal.” You huffed, moving around the living room toward the door.

Steve watched as you grabbed your stuff and left.

He knew first hand how it was to be the caretaker of the group. He found it easier to do with you by his side. But obviously, it wasn't like that for you.

Maybe you wanted someone to take care of you for a change.

Steve started doing little things for you. He'd stop by your house to bring you snacks without you asking. He brought you flowers once, claiming it was from him and the kids, for burdening you. Steve tried to do stuff for you, but you were reluctant to accept his help. You'd always been the one to take care of others, and it was challenging to let someone else do that for you. Sometimes, you'd even get snippy with him, telling him you could handle it yourself.

~

You finally came around again- not as much as before, but you didn't decline their calls anymore.

One night, after a particularly long day, Steve found you in his kitchen, cleaning up after everyone else had left. He walked over and took the dish from your hand.

“Steve, I can do it,” you said, your voice tinged with frustration.

“Why won't you let me help you?” he asked, his tone equally frustrated.

“Because I don't need your help!” you snapped back, but your voice cracked, betraying your true feelings.

Steve put the dish down and turned to you, his eyes filled with concern. “You don't always have to be the strong one, you know. It's okay to let someone else take care of you for once.”

You looked at him, tears welling up in your eyes. “But what if I don't know how to let go?”

Steve stepped closer, gently cupping your face in his hands. “Then let me show you,” he whispered. “Because I love you, and I want to be there for you, just like you've always been there for everyone else.”

Your breath hitched at his words, “You… you love me?”

“Yes,” Steve said, his voice firm and sincere. “I love you, and I want to take care of you. So please, let me.”

You felt a weight lift off your shoulders as you finally allowed yourself to lean into his embrace. “Okay,” you whispered, your voice soft and full of relief. “Okay.”

Steve smiled, pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “We'll figure it out together,” he said. “One step at a time.”

As the days passed, Steve made it his mission to show you that it was okay to let someone else be there for you. He'd surprise you with your favorite coffee in the morning, leave little notes of encouragement on your bedside table before he leaves at night, and always be there with a listening ear when you needed to vent. Slowly, but surely, you began to let your guard down and accept his help.

~

One Saturday afternoon, Steve took you to a quiet spot by the lake. The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the water. You sat together on a blanket, watching the ducks swim by.

“Thank you,” you said softly, breaking the comfortable silence.

“For what?” Steve asked, looking at you with a gentle smile.

“For everything,” you replied. “For being there for me, for showing me that it's okay to lean on someone else.”

Steve reached out and took your hand in his. “You don't have to thank me,” he said. “I care about you, and I want to be there for you. Always.”

You leaned your head on his shoulder, feeling a sense of peace and contentment that you hadn't felt in a long time. “I love you, Steve,” you whispered.

“I love you too,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “And I'm not going anywhere.”

As the sun dipped below the horizon, you knew that you had finally found someone who would always be there for you, no matter what. And for the first time in a long while, you felt like everything was going to be okay.

•2021-2024 by xoxo-sarah on Tumblr•

•My work is not to be translated, copied, modified, and/or reposted on any other site without my permission. [I don't give permission!]

[zombvic]

enemies to lovers w kenan??🙏🙏

EYE TO EYE (kenan yildiz x reader)

summary : in which y/n and a certain turkish-german football player dont see eye to eye

face claim : no one exact

notes : thank you for the request !! hope its like you wanted :3

pairings : kenan yildiz x reader , childhood "enemies"

Ever since you can remember, Kenan has been a constant presence in your life. From childhood, you two never saw eye to eye. He was always around, whether it was a family dinner, a holiday gathering, or a neighborhood barbecue. The day your families became intertwined marked the start of what seemed like the ideal love story—the boy and girl next door. But reality was far from that.

As your families grew closer, it seemed like opposites attracted for them. Kenan was considered the typical jock: charismatic, popular, always surrounded by friends, and stereotypically, a football player. You, on the other hand, were far more reserved but possessed a strangely attractive confidence.

Kenan always challenged you. As the years passed, your dynamic didn't change. Your parents wanted you to be friends, but neither of you made the effort. Despite your parents' close friendship and frequent attempts to foster a bond between you, neither cared enough.

As you both grew older, the dynamics shifted subtly. The teasing evolved into playful banter, and the challenges turned into a mutual respect for each other's strengths. Yet, beneath the surface, there was an unspoken understanding that perhaps there was more to your relationship than met the eye.

"Y/n, the Yildiz family invited us for a get-together. Make sure you're on your best behavior," your mother said. You never really understood it; it wasn't you who made a huge deal out of your petty arguments. Hell, it wasn't even you who started the arguments. But it was never Kenan who got scolded; no, he was too perfect for that, wasn't he?

"And please, no more fighting. The last barbecue was more than enough." Ah, yes, the last barbecue—it ended with a small fire and a broken ankle. Obviously, it was my ankle; his football career would be in shambles if he broke his ankle during a friends and family event. But it wasn't my fault; he brought up the famous debate of who's the GOAT of Formula 1. I mean, you're literally German, what do you mean you don't think Schumi is the GOAT? The debate was supposed to be settled by a friendly game of pingpong, but it didn't end so friendly. What was I supposed to do, not dodge the racket he THREW at me? In my humble opinion, my actions were more than justified.

As my mom knocked on their front door, we were greeted by Engin, Kenan's father. Their house was cozy, shared between the parents and three boys. Every time we went over, the atmosphere was welcoming.

Kenan stood at the doorway, a sheepish grin on his face as he welcomed us inside. "Hey, Y/n," he greeted me, his tone surprisingly friendly despite our history.

"Hey," I replied, trying to mask the uneasy feeling his presence always seemed to stir in me. His eyes held some sort of amusement, as if he could sense my discomfort. I walked past to enter the familiar space of their kitchen connected to the backyard entrance.

Engin ushered us towards the backyard where the rest of the family and a few guests were gathered around the barbecue grill. Kenan's brothers were playing football in the yard, their laughter blending with the hum of conversation.

"Hope you're hungry," Engin chuckled, flipping a burger on the grill. "We've got plenty to go around."

Kenan slid next to me as we walked to the table, his voice low. "So, how's life?" he asked with genuine interest.

I hesitated for a moment, surprised by his sudden sincerity. "Um, it's been alright," I replied cautiously. "Busy with school and all."

He nodded thoughtfully. "Yeah, I get that. Are you still into that video editing thing you were doing last summer?"

I couldn't help but feel a twinge of surprise that he remembered. "Yeah, actually. I've gotten some offers from certain companies."

"That's really cool," he said with a nod, a hint of admiration in his voice.

We reached the table where the food was laid out, and Kenan held out a plate for me to take first. I couldn't help but notice the small gesture of consideration, a far cry from our usual banter or tense interactions.

"Thanks," I said quietly, feeling a flicker of warmth towards him that I hadn't expected. Maybe, just maybe, there was more to Kenan than the cocky football player I always assumed him to be.

As the evening went on, the atmosphere at the barbecue shifted from tentative civility to a surprising ease between Kenan and Y/n. Engin's expert grilling skills were matched by his knack for storytelling, keeping everyone entertained with humorous anecdotes from his youth. The smell of grilled meat filled the air, mingling with laughter and the occasional cheer from the ongoing soccer match in the yard.

Kenan and Y/n found themselves drawn into a playful banter over who could stack their burger higher with toppings, each trying to outdo the other with combinations that ranged from classic to unconventional. It became a mini competition, with Kenan daring Y/n to try his "ultimate burger creation" while she countered with her own daring concoction of flavors.

"You're seriously putting pineapple and jalapenos together?" Kenan raised an eyebrow, eyeing Y/n's bold choice of toppings skeptically.

"Why not?" Y/n grinned mischievously, carefully balancing the overflowing tower of burger ingredients. "It's a winning combo."

Kenan chuckled, shaking his head in mock disbelief as he expertly flipped another burger on the grill. "Alright, I'll admit, you've got guts. Let's see if it actually tastes as good as it looks."

As the sun began to set, casting a golden hue over the backyard, Kenan's brothers approached with mischievous grins on their faces. "Hey, Kenan! Y/n! How about a friendly game of football?" they called out enthusiastically, kicking a soccer ball playfully towards them.

Kenan glanced at Y/n with a raised eyebrow, a hint of amusement in his eyes. "You guys sure you want to challenge us? You might regret it," he teased, his competitive spirit already rising to the surface.

Y/n chuckled, feeling a surprising rush of excitement at the prospect of playing alongside Kenan instead of against him for once. "Bring it on, boys," she replied confidently, flashing a grin that mirrored Kenan's.

With a nod from Kenan, they divided into teams—Kenan and Y/n against his brothers. The game started with playful banter and competitive energy, but something shifted as they played. Kenan's skill on the field was undeniable, his passes precise and his movements fluid. Y/n found herself naturally falling into sync with him, their teamwork surprisingly effortless.

They communicated with quick glances and nods, strategizing on the fly and covering each other's positions seamlessly. Kenan's brothers put up a good fight, but Kenan and Y/n's teamwork proved to be a formidable force.

"Nice pass!" Kenan called out as Y/n dribbled past Eren with skillful footwork, earning an approving nod from him.

"You're pretty good at football, Kenan. You should consider becoming a professional," Y/n joked with a playful smirk.

Kenan chuckled, shaking his head modestly. "I don't know about that. I'd probably miss all the glamour of backyard games like this."

"Get a room, lovebirds," His brothers teased from the sidelines, a mischievous grin on their face.

Y/n rolled her eyes, playfully nudging Kenan. "Ignore him. They're just jealous that we make a better team than they do."

The game continued with laughter, cheers, and occasional playful taunts exchanged between teams. As the friendly competition progressed, Kenan and you found themselves enjoying each other's company in a way they hadn't before. The usual tension and rivalry gave way to shared goals and a shared sense of accomplishment each time they scored or defended together.

As the sun dipped lower in the sky and the game wound down, The brothers conceded defeat with good humor, congratulating Kenan and Y/n on their victory.

"You guys were awesome!" Kenans brother exclaimed, grinning broadly as he bumped fists with Kenan and Y/n. "We'll have to challenge you again sometime."

Kenan chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder. "Anytime, little bro. Just be prepared to lose again," he teased playfully.

As they gathered their breath and laughter echoed in the cooling evening air, Y/n couldn't help but feel a newfound sense of camaraderie with Kenan. Working together had brought out a side of him she hadn't seen before—the focused, determined athlete who also knew how to have fun and appreciate teamwork.

"Thanks for the game, Y/n," Kenan said quietly, his tone sincere as he glanced at her with a soft smile.

You nodded, feeling a smile tug at your lips in response. "Likewise, Kenan. It was... refreshing," she admitted, surprising herself with the honesty of her words.

As they shared a meaningful smile, the evening continued with laughter, shared stories, and the hope for more moments like this—where they weren't basically on the verge of killing eachother, but actual friends, if not more.

im sorry this kinda doesnt have plot and sounds kinda npc but erm ! ignore that plz

[ventismacchiato]

O4 stuck with you — screaming and fighting !

scaramouche x gender neutral reader

You and Scaramouche were dragged backstage and away from prying eyes, faces flushed and chests rising as the adrenaline from the argument on stage had yet to wear off. The dressing room was still, only filled with you both throwing insults at one another. The rest of your group members shared sheepish looks with one another, deciding to let you both get it out of your system.

As soon as the door was tightly shut you whirled around to face Scara.

“You just always have to get the last word, don’t you?” you asked, stepping closer to him.

“You’re the one who started yelling at me, I was just defending myself,” Scaramouche replied, his tone equally heated, but his posture was much more composed than you. 

“You’re the one who told me to give up,” you accused. 

“Yeah, give up the trophy so I could hold it,” Scara sighed.

“Yeah, as if you deserve to hold it.”

“Now that you mention it, I do deserve it more than you.” 

“You don’t know what it’s like to actually work for something,” you glared, voice laced with contempt, “You probably get everything handed to you by your mom.”

He glanced away, abruptly uncomfortable. “You shouldn’t talk. Your voice is even more unpleasant when you’re whining.” 

Naturally, you kept talking

“That’s the only reason you’re even here with the rest of us,” you continued, letting your jealousy cloud your senses, “I can’t be the only one who thinks that.”

Scaramouche’s face hardened. He scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered, shoving his way past you to leave the dressing room before turning around one last time.

“Nobody even knew she was my mother until I became a trainee. I used a different name on the application forms. But if hanging onto that little fact makes you feel better about being so pathetic then be my fucking guest.” 

And with that he slammed the door behind him.

You hated the way he could make you inexplicably self-conscious. It used to be a foreign sensation, one left behind long ago in insecure adolescence.

You stood there, breathing heavily, as the door swung shut. The room was silent, everyone stunned by the intensity of the confrontation.

Lumine stepped up and placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, slowly guiding you outside to cool off. 

“We’re also gonna head back,” Aether awkwardly laughed, grabbing Childe and Kazuha by their collars and dragging them out.

“So, that just happened.”

“Shut up, Venti.”

“We really need to broaden your vocabulary, Y/n. Your insults could be better.”

“You too, Fischl! Zip it!”

stuck with you!

masterlist — prev | next

begging u guys to let me use ur usernames as fans in this au pls let me make u a crazy stantwt user xx but pls comment on the masterlist so i see it

also everyone saying scara keeps eating yn up w insults is sending me 😭😭

title from the way i loved you by ts it suits scarayn so well

synopsis — after the disaster that was the live award show, where you and scaramouche got into an argument on stage after both of your groups got a tie for top artists, your guys' PR teams have been in shambles trying to scrape up your mess. that's when the idea to send you both off with some other idols to a remote location for a survival dating show to mend your public image comes up. before you know it your bags are packed and you’re on a plane to a remote island. the only obligation is you need to end up with scaramouche at the end of the show, whether you end up liking him or not doesn’t matter to your managers as long as the show’s ratings stay high. whatever you do in between to get there is up to you!

notes — 👍 leave me comments and asks instead of begging for updates pleek i need motivation to post more

taglist — @na1lea @cindywasneverhere @lunavixia @aestherin @mlaakai @camvrin @retiredmommylover @iheartpieck @jangyung @cartierfiles @loveariel @silly-ez @mochipls @pomeiu @chuuismylife @flowerypesky @creammpuff @justanothertiredreader @boxdisappeared @kissmiere @kissingkzuha @webbywill @kazusboyfriend @s3xpistolss @pjsucks @bunns-wonderland @lordbugs @localgirlywithnolife @kosumos @danfelions @featuredtofu @pinxeajin @herebyaccident0 @haeunoo @scaradooche @pglt19 @chemiru @childesbabygirl @simonisferal @shutingstar @vxcmx @domimiki @ttalgi @esuz @tokkishouse @kitsuvil @scarasmood @ihearttori @nomurahayami @starringyau @androxphobic

[youunravelme]

nothing happened in the way i wanted part 1

author's note: okay so let it be known that my FAV emily henry book is happy place (if you want a deep dive into my personality, if you want to know the inner workings of my mind, read the book) SO with that being said, this fic was inspired by that masterpiece. plus i've fallen down a matt rabbit hole as of late. just a warning, this is a LONG ass fic (74 pages and 30.3k words, not a brag, i kinda regret that it's this long bc my brain hurts) so pace yourselves okay? thank you for being the kindest people ever!! this is finished, but tumblr said what i wrote is too long. so i'm posting it in parts lolol.

summary: a year has passed and you are no closer to understanding why matt ended things and you have every plan of avoiding that thought until he comes back in town for the offseason, then suddenly he's everywhere.

pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader

warnings: ANGST, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, mention of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drinking, depression, panic attacks, let me know if i missed something!

after

despite being back in st. louis for six months, summer still felt like it came too fast. your thighs started sticking to the seats from sweat about three weeks ago. summer used to be your favorite season because it meant you had unlimited access to the love of your life, you weren’t sharing him with his teammates or his crazy schedule.

but he wasn’t yours anymore. matthew hadn’t been yours in six months and some change.

the second you entered your parents’ home, you tossed your keys into the bowl and slid your shoes off. it’d been six months since you moved home, and it still didn’t feel like a space where you belonged. you walked into the living room without so much as a hello from either of your parents, both of whom were posted up on the couch. they weren’t talking to each other, just letting the noise from the news fill the room instead of conversation.

“hey,” you greeted, plopping down in the recliner.

“how was work?” your mom asked.

you shrugged, not quite having the words to convey how mundane it had been. you were working on restoring a piece for this rich couple who lived in the same neighborhood as the tkachuks. it wasn’t in too bad of shape, given the fact that you were the one entrusted to work on it. if it was actually something incredibly complicated, your boss would’ve found someone else more experienced to do it.

when you entered art restoration and conservation, you thought it would be mindless. art had always been an escape for you, a chance to remove yourself from your racing thoughts. you thought that by entering the art conservation field, you could add onto something, enhance the beauty that was lost over the years of damage, instead of creating something from your own experiences.

but no one told you how hard it would be after your breakup, that you would have to learn how to pour bottles of chemical solvent into a glass when your eyes were blurring with tears. no one said anything about how you would spend hours hunched over, fixing the problems in paintings that only served to remind you that while you could mend a masterpiece, you were unable to stop and patch up the problems in your relationship. no one spoke about how you would inevitably relate to the paintings that came to you in shambles, the only difference being that clients would pay thousands of dollars for their paintings to be restored to their former glory, your ex let you fall apart alone in a city where you had no friends outside of the ones you’d made through him.

but how could you communicate that to your mother? to your father? both of whom stayed in an unhappy marriage for the sake of optics? how could you tell them that it’s been months and you were still no more over your ex than the day it ended? how could they understand you? they stayed together out of convenience, out of a fear of ending their marriage only to never find someone else.

it had been six months since your relationship ended, and you were no closer to understanding why.

“just a mundane day,” was all you said instead. “nothing to write home about.”

both of your parents hummed.

“did you have dinner already?” you asked.

“was gonna order pizza,” your dad said.

your mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. “no alan, we had plans to see chantal and keith tonight for dinner.”

you wanted to throw up.

you weren’t sure what you were expecting, maybe some loyalty from your parents? though, they weren’t fully privy to all the information about the demise of your relationship with matt, so maybe you couldn’t expect them to stop hanging out with his parents, especially when said parents were such great people.

“oh,” was all you could say.

“you’re more than welcome to order takeout and watch a movie,” your mom commented, like you needed permission to make yourself at home when you were actively living there. “i’m sure ronald would appreciate your company.”

you glanced at the tabby cat who was perched on his cat tree. personally, you had no issue with ronald, but he liked your mom and your mom only. though on occasion, he would allow your dad to pet him. 

“i’ll figure something out,” you said.

your mom hummed before she stood up to go get ready while your father stayed on the couch. it was only another ten minutes before he got up to change quickly, and another five before they left the house without so much as a goodbye.

before

you were incredibly aware that you didn’t quite fit in. your mom drove you to school in a beat up 1997 toyota camry which looked incredibly out of place among the bmws and audis. your mom offered to walk you in, but she was wearing her scrubs from her night shift and her face looked tired, so you declined the offer and got out of the car yourself.

it shouldn’t have been as daunting as it was, but your old school wasn’t as prestigious as this one. your previous schools in cedar rapids had been public schools. no one was wearing a uniform, and most of the backpacks worn came from the same walmart in your old neighborhood. 

but your parents had decided they wanted a better education for you, even if neither of them had the money to fork out thousands of dollars for a private school. your mom’s parents, however, were loaded. they were more than willing to fork out a small fortune for your schooling under the conditions of your family uprooting your lives to missouri. you were too young to realize what a sacrifice that was, you didn’t notice the snide comments your grandparents made about your father’s choice of career or your mother’s choice in husband.

you didn’t see your grandparents any more than you usually did since you’d moved to missouri two weeks ago. they’d been out of town on a trip to rome up until three days ago and hadn’t reached out to have dinner or hang out at all.

not that you cared at the age of nine, you were more focused on unpacking your room. but now that you were standing in front of the giant school alone, you felt like you should’ve been more concerned with how nice your school supplies were.

a kind woman greeted you at the entrance of the school. she smiled and introduced herself, though you couldn’t hear her over the roaring in your ears. she stood next to a blond haired blue eyed boy who was your height.

“are your parents here?” you weren’t sure how you heard her over the noise in your head.

you shook your head. “my mom had to go home and my dad is at work.”

the woman blinked. “is today your first day?”

“mom, it’s everyone’s first day of school,” the boy groaned.

“i wasn’t talking to you, matthew,” she said, though her eyes never left your own.

“i just moved here,” was all you said, albeit a bit quietly. 

“well, you can walk in with us.” She placed a warm hand on your back and ushered you inside next to her son.

you took notice of her nicer clothing compared to your mom’s scrubs or your dad’s tattered khakis, though the woman’s clothing wasn’t as ostentatious as other parents’.

“do you know your teacher’s name?” the woman asked.

you nodded and showed her the crumpled paper in your hand. the night before, you were wracked with nerves and wrote your teacher’s on a blank sheet of paper and doodled around it. even at nine years old, you were concerned that you’d somehow forget. you couldn’t be more grateful for it now.

the woman’s face lit up. “oh how lucky! matthew look! you’re in the same class.”

matthew for his part, tried to look happy about it, but his eyes kept wandering to the hallways, like he was looking for people he knew. you felt bad for even being in this situation. you missed your friends from iowa and the light up shoes you used to wear before you were given a uniform.

matthew’s mom pointed out the classroom that was supposed to be yours and walked both you and matthew into the room. unlike her son, who immediately found his friends to do elaborate handshakes with, you stayed by her side. she was a stranger, sure, but she was more comforting that the classroom of fifteen other nine and ten year olds.

the woman sighed and bent down a little to look you in the eyes. “it’s gonna be a good day, sweetheart,” she said. “mr. terry is a great teacher, he’s really kind.” you weren’t sure how she would know that, but you weren’t going to call her a liar. “and if you need anything, ask matthew. he’s been going here since kindergarten, okay?”

you nodded.

mr. terry walked over and introduced himself. he had dark skin and a bright smile, showing you to your seat. your name was on a card with fun stickers on it. next to your seat, you saw matthew’s name. now it wasn’t necessarily an unpopular name, there were three matthews in your third grade class, so you weren’t holding out hope that it was going to be the matthew you walked into class with. but two minutes later, he was plopping down into the seat to your left.

matthew looked almost startled to see you sitting next to him, but when the shock wore off he gave you a crooked smile and stuck his hand out. “i’m matt,” he said, like you two didn’t walk into class together.

you shook his hand anyway and gave him a shy smile and told him your name, just in case he didn’t see it written on your desk.

if it was even possible, his smile widened. “pretty name,” he said.

after

you’d watched a movie and half of another one by the time your parents walked through the front door. ronald jumped off the couch to greet your mother while he ignored your father.

“oh,” your dad said. “you’re still up.”

“i’m about to go to bed,” you replied, though you didn’t move from the couch.

“dinner was great,” your mom commented. “chantal and keith said to tell you hello.”

your gut twisted at the mention of their names. you loved his family, you really did, but the mention of the family that was almost yours stung when you looked at how your parents acted like roommates on the best of days.

you remembered summer days spent in the tkachuks’ backyard, watching as matt and brady chased each other while taryn tried her best to keep up. you remembered your dad picking you up from their house, and how you begged the entire ride home for a little brother or sister. he looked at your through the rearview mirror and said “we already achieved perfection, why mess that up?”

but you were grown now. you saw how their marriage barely survived raising you, and they were probably being smart by not risking your upbringing just to have another child.

you bid your parents goodnight and headed up the stairs to your childhood bedroom. it looked less like the office it was converted into when you moved out originally. you didn’t fault your parents for taking advantage of your absence, you, like many people your age, had zero intentions of ever moving back in until an unfortunate set of circumstances happened to you.

and that’s what life had felt like lately:

unfortunate.

unfortunate shit just happening to you.

it wasn't late by any means, but you were surprised when your phone vibrated with a text message. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t really befriended anyone since moving back that had you flinching at the shock of someone other than your parents (or grandparents) texting you.

you unlocked your phone and opened the message, sighing when you read its contents.

emma:

hey girl! just checking in to see if you’re still good for this weekend? no worries if you can’t make it!

you dropped the phone on your stomach and groaned into your hands as soon as they made contact with your face.

years of dating matthew meant you’d grown closer to brady and taryn and by proxy, brady’s fiancée, emma. you’d already committed to being a bridesmaid and bought the dress before your relationship with matt ended. when emma found out, she called immediately and gave you an out, said she wouldn’t take it personal, that she understood if it would be too hard.

but you remembered the countless conversations had about planning your weddings while the both of you watched the loves of your lives try not to kill each other from your spots on the back porch. and you could hear it in her voice, how much it meant to her that you would be there even if she didn’t want to push it on you. it didn’t matter that only one of you was getting the wedding you planned. the bets made on who’d get married first were obsolete now.

you wanted to text her back and say you were busy, but you hadn’t seen her much since her and brady came back in town. when the senators’ season ended in april, he and emma spent some time with her family and attended the playoff games for the panthers. now that the panthers’ season ended two weeks ago, all of the tkachuks were back in town which used to excite you.

now it just filled you with dread.

no, it’s not like you lived in the same tax bracket as matt’s family. you didn’t go to the same grocery stores unless you were tagging along. no, there was a comfortable distance between your neighborhoods and st. louis was filled with two million other people that the odds of running into him were slim.

but your anxiety preferred zero odds rather than a slight chance, and it made the logic that was once screaming at you sound like a small whisper.

you sucked it up anyway, though. seeing emma and the other bridesmaids was better than staying in your room and staring at the ceiling.

you:

i’ll be there! can’t wait!!!

and maybe you used too many exclamation points. maybe you were trying too hard to prove something no one would believe if they took longer than a split second glance at your face. you were a horrible liar, that hadn’t changed. you were just hoping by the time the weekend came around, you’d be too busy to focus on any of the pain.

before

the summer after keith retired, the tkachuks took you and your family on vacation with them to turks and caicos. your parents were stressed initially about the trip, but you were filled with nothing but excitement at leaving the landlocked state you called home.

missouri had slowly wormed its way into your heart. when your family moved, there was never a thought in your mind that you would ever come to love it like you did with cedar rapids. there was no way you’d ever consider this place your home. but then you met the tkachuks.

it’d been nearly three years since you’d first sat in that seat next to your best friend in mr. terry’s fourth grade class. now, you were splashing around in the waves with matt and brady while your parents looked from the shore.

school had been different the past two years, with matthew going to an all boys school after fifth grade while you stayed. it took some adjusting to being without him the entire school day. you didn’t want to think of yourself as codependent, or clingy, but mat was your best friend. it was an adjustment, having to make new friends in the same school.

now that wasn’t to say that you never saw matt. after your initial introductions, chantal offered to take you to and from school if your mom or dad dropped you off at their house in the morning. both of your parents jumped at the idea. your mother, who worked as a night shift ICU nurse, reveled in being able to go home and go straight to sleep. your father, whose job as an electrician required him to be on job sites early in the morning, didn’t mind it either, he had to be up early anyway.

and sure, you had to wake up earlier than you used to, but you got to eat breakfast and pretend like you were a tkachuk most days of the week (with the exception of the days your mom was off). keith would ruffle your hair as he passed you in the kitchen. taryn would race matthew for the seat next to yours.

the tkachuks felt more like your family than your own some days.

especially now when your parents went on a date that keith and chantal paid for while they stayed back at the beach house with you and their children. 

all six of you were seated around the coffee table with the game of life laid out in front of you. the evening started out with a game of uno, but that game got out of hand quickly. it took brady reversing the order and hitting matt with a draw four before your best friend lunged over the table to tackle his brother. while keith broke up the boys, chantal cleaned up uno and instructed you and taryn to pick out the least competitive game you could find.

which is how you ended up playing the game of life.

even though life had to be the least competitive game you knew, matt and brady still managed to argue over it, even going as far to rant about how unfair it was that they had to pay for home insurance. keith and chantal had just chuckled and told them to enjoy childhood while it lasted.

you found yourself smiling and laughing along.

you weren’t quite sure who won, or how anyone ever really wins the game of life, but the moment mattered more. taryn went upstairs with keith to get ready for bed while brady helped his mom in the kitchen pop a bag of popcorn. you and matthew were responsible for cleaning up the game.

“are you having fun?” he asked.

your smile was so wide, it hurt your cheeks. “i’m having the best time. this is by far the best vacation i’ve been on.”

“really?” he smiled.

you nodded emphatically. “most of my family vacations have been spent with my grandparents.”

matt grimaced, already aware of the testy relationship your mom had with her own parents. “when’s the last time you saw them?”

you had to think for a moment, while your grandparents technically lived in st. louis, they were often out of town or ignoring your family’s existence altogether. with the exception of the last saturday of every month, when you and your parents were practically obligated to eat dinner with them. you didn’t notice their judgmental comments when you were younger and mesmerized by the giant dollhouse they bought for you.

but you were older now. you knew that there were terms and conditions attached to the cellphone they bought for you on your twelfth birthday. you heard the disdain in their voices when they talked down to your father and mother for their life choices. you weren’t an idiot, you understood that every compliment they gave you was a way for them to make your parents feel inferior in comparison.

you weren’t a child to them, you were a pawn in a game you never asked to play.

“we saw them about a month ago?” you shrugged. “they’re on vacation until halfway through august.”

matt hummed. “i think we’re gonna visit mom’s parents before school starts back again.”

to your credit, you did your best to look happy for him, even if it meant that you wouldn’t see him for a week and a half. you had other friends in town! in fact, you befriended a girl named simone when you started middle school. maybe you could call her when you get back to st. louis?

evidently, your little act wasn’t convincing enough. matt nudged your shoulder with his. “you’ll be fine,” he said. “you’re probably annoyed from how much time we’ve spent together this summer. you need a break.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “i could never get tired of you, matty.”

he blinked, almost at a loss for words, it felt like. but you should’ve known better, because he was holding up his pinky a beat later. “you promise?”

you locked your fingers together. “promise.”

after

it’s just emma and her friends and taryn, you thought. you already know all of these people. there’s no reason to be stressed out.

which, to be fair, your inner monologue was right. you had absolutely no reason to be standing in front of your closet debating what to wear for as long as you had. 

before you could stop yourself, you were hitting emma’s contact and putting your phone on speaker. the dial tone rang out through the room while you waited for her to pick up. you were seconds away from ending the call when her phone sounded through the receiver.

“hey! what’s up?”

you exhaled. “i don’t know what to wear tonight.”

emma said your name through a laugh. “we’re not going anywhere fancy, i swear. it’s just dinner and then we’re going to a bar.”

you frowned. “so taryn’s not joining us after dinner?”

“no, she has other plans after dinner anyway. she said she was meeting up with some friends from high school.” as if she could see the hesitance on your face, emma spoke up again. “but you know all the other girls, it’s not like you’ll be hanging out with strangers.”

and she was right, you were in a groupchat with the other bridesmaids and found all of them to be quite pleasant.

“look, if you’re still stressed about what to wear, just wear jeans.”

“okay, but how nice is this restaurant?” you were rummaging through your closet. “because i’ve worn jeans to restaurants that weren’t supposed to be fancy and i found myself criminally underdressed.”

“yeah well, i’m better at communicating than matt is.” a gasp sounded through the receiver, like emma had just realized what she said. “oh my god, i’m so sorry—”

“it’s fine, you’re not wrong,” you said, forcing out a laugh even as your heart painfully squeezed in your chest.

“i really didn’t mean to,” she sighed. “i’m sorry, that was rude of me to bring up.”

you shook your head even though she couldn’t see you. “it’s fine, emma, i swear,” you said even though there were tears pricking in your eyes. “i’ll have to face the music eventually.”

“still, it was insensitive of me to say that.”

you cleared your throat. “don’t worry about it, i’m a big girl.” you pulled the phone away from your face so you could sniffle for a second without drawing any unnecessary attention. “so jean shorts tonight?” you asked.

there was a brief silence before you heard emma’s soft sigh over the phone. “that sounds perfect.”

before

matthew kissed you for the first time when you were hanging out with mutual friends after school in eighth grade. you’d been dreaming about that moment for years ever since sixth grade when you realized matt was handsome and the flutters in your stomach weren’t just from nerves anymore.

both of you were at your friend morgan’s house sitting in her basement. she happened to live in the same neighborhood as matt. so after school, you rode home with the tkachuks like you always did and then walked to her house.

morgan was the first of your friends to get a boyfriend and she wasn’t shy about telling everyone. it was easy to be jealous of her. while you hadn’t known her as long, your other friends had made it clear she’d garnered male attention since preschool. so there was no surprise that she’d announced at school earlier that week that she was dating someone from matt’s school.

hence the party in the basement.

morgan was the one who suggested truth or dare. she had all ten of you circle up on the carpet and sit criss crossed. you were keenly aware of how matt’s knee was touching your own, you could feel the heat even through your jeans. he was leaning back on his hands, with his right hand directly behind your back,in your delusions, you let yourself pretend he was doing it to be closer to you.

“alright!” morgan cheered. “who wants to start?”

no one said a word.

you made the mistake of looking around when you caught morgan’s eye. at the sight of a growing smirk on her lips, you quickly diverted your gaze.

“c'mon, no one wants to go first?” she hummed. “fine, i’ll go. babe,” she started calling thomas babe a week ago. “ask me, truth or dare?”

the only word you could use to describe the look on thomas’ face was besotted. without hesitating, he asked her the question, smiling when she grinned back at him. morgan chose dare, because she wasn’t “boring and lame.”

thomas dared her to kiss him. there was a collective groan when she leaned over and kissed her boyfriend. the second she pulled back, morgan’s eyes flitted over the rest of the group, looking like a tiger about to pounce. the two of you made eye contact and the corner of her lips raised in a smirk that was gone as quick as it came.

you prepared yourself for the worst, recalling how you let it slip that you have a crush on matt. and morgan, while she wasn’t intentionally cruel, had all but shrieked when you told her. so you didn’t think she’d out you to be mean, you wouldn’t put it past her to attempt matchmaking.

but her eyes skipped right over you and focused on simone. “truth or dare?”

“truth,” simone replied.

morgan rolled her eyes. “nerd,” but she cracked a smile anyway.

the game went on pretty effortlessly, you even got brave enough to do a dare (thankfully morgan never got the opportunity to ask you). it ended with morgan asking matthew. the smirk she had earlier, appeared as she made eye contact with you before setting her sights on your best friend.

“truth or dare?” she asked.

you immediately knew which option he was picking, matt never backed down from a challenge and had been choosing dare all night.

“matthew, i dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

your stomach dropped as did your gaze. you couldn’t look anyone in the eye, you didn’t want to see matt kiss another girl, you couldn’t. you wouldn’t do it.

a moment passed when you realized matt hadn’t moved an inch. he was still leaning on his hands, with one stretched behind you. all it took was a quick glance at matt to see him already staring back at you.

“no,” he said, eyes still locked on your face.

morgan blinked. “what?”

it was only then that his eyes left your face to look morgan dead in the eye. “nope. i won’t do it.”

she guffawed. “but you have to!”

matt shrugged. “i don’t want to.”

“but you lose if you don’t!”

he shrugged yet again. “oh well.”

your head snapped up to look at him in confusion. “matt,” you nudged him.

“we gotta go anyway,” he said, before he stood up and reached out to you. you took his hand, albeit hesitantly before he dragged you up the stairs and out of the house onto the street.

a cool breeze was blowing which inadvertently caused you to shiver. matt, who still hadn’t let go of your hand, tugged you further into his side. your heart sank when he dropped your hand, only for it to skyrocket when he threw his arm around you.

“why didn’t you do the dare?” you asked. the curiosity was killing you, even if you believed the real answer would be even worse than not knowing.

matt shrugged like he had been all night. “i didn’t feel like it.”

you blinked at him, staring at his profile while he guided the two of you back to his house. “you’re literally the most competitive person i know. you’ve never intentionally lost a game. last week brady dared you to drink that gallon of milk and run a mile, which, if i must remind you, you threw up not even halfway through.”

matt laughed. “that was funny. but what’s your point?”

“my point is that kissing someone is way less work than running a mile and throwing up. so what’s up?”

he wouldn’t look at you, his gaze fell to the ground where he kicked a rock. “didn’t want it to happen like that.”

you blinked at him, refusing to move your gaze from his profile. “didn’t want what to happen like that? it’s just a kiss.”

he shook his head and stopped walking, grabbing your wrist when you kept moving. matt tugged your arm so you’d turn around and look at him. “it wouldn’t be just a kiss,” he said.

“would it mean more?” you asked, but he didn’t say anything. “matt?” your heart was beating against your chest. your hands shook at the idea of him wanting to kiss someone. you went through the list of people in that room. it wasn’t morgan, he’d told you weeks ago that he didn’t like her like that when you asked. could it be simone? she looked like a goddess on a bad day. her dark skin was flawless and free of blemishes and her faux locs were always perfectly styled. she didn’t even wear makeup on a regular basis.

oh god. did he like simone?

your gut twisted at the idea, of him falling in love with the closest friend you had at school. you could learn to be happy for them, simone was great and matt would adore her if she agreed to go out with him.

you snapped back into it when you felt matt’s thumb rub across your pulse. “matt, would it mean more?”

he shrugged again, still not looking at you, just the part where your hands were joined. “would it be a problem if it did?”

now it was your turn to be confused. “why would my opinion matter? i’m not the one you’d be kissing.”

matt blinked at you once, then twice. “you can’t be serious,” he said.

“what do you mean?”

“you can’t be that blind. there’s no way.”

“matt, what are you talking about?”

he dropped your hand to run both of his over his face and groaned. “there's no way you don’t know.”

“know what?”

matt fixed you with an intense look, one that had you squirming in your shoes a little. in all your years of friendship, you weren’t sure he'd ever stared at you that way before. a hockey game? sure, but you?

“matt what—”

“i like you,” he said as plain as day, like he didn’t just flip your world on its axis.

you blinked, you were pretty sure you stopped breathing. “what?” you whispered.

matt stepped closer to you, close enough that your shoes were touching. “i like you.”

“so why didn’t you kiss me when morgan dared you to?”

“i didn’t want it to happen like that,” he admitted. “didn’t wanna kiss you in front of everybody.”

you could feel the heat travel up your neck and to your cheeks. “and what about now? would you kiss me now?”

“would you let me?”

words failed you, you could only nod. matt hesitated for a moment before pressing his lips to yours. it was clumsy and awkward, and in the middle of the sidewalk two blocks away from his house.

but it was perfect.

after

you ubered to the restaurant before emma could suggest meeting at the tkachuk house. every single one of the bridesmaids knew you and matt were no longer together, all of them banding around you and offering support from thousands of miles away. so you didn’t think any of them would even hint at meeting at the tkachuk residence if they were as considerate as you believed them to be, but you wanted to avoid the sympathetic looks that would be thrown your way.

most of the bridesmaids were there by the time you arrived, the only exception being taryn. the entire table greeted you with bright white smiles, emma stood to give you a hug that you enthusiastically returned.

it felt great to be back in the company of people your age. despite being back in st. louis for quite some time, you still had yet to make any more friends outside of emma and taryn, both of whom you didn’t see that often because of who they were relationally attached to.

unfortunately, you’d lost contact with many of your friends from high school because of the distance. if you could go back, you’d slap yourself in the face for thinking matt was going to stick around longer than simone or morgan.

but how were you to know he would leave and wouldn’t want you to follow him?

you swallowed that question down and took a seat at the table. you sat next to a brunette named stacey, the other seat on your right was left for taryn, you assumed. there were already two bottles of wine sitting in a bucket of ice on the table. part of you considered pouring yourself a glass immediately, but you remembered the plans were dinner first, bar later. so you settled for water.

it was only a matter of maybe ten minutes before taryn was led to your table. you stood up with the rest of the girls and waited your turn to hug her. taryn saved you for last, smiling bright and wide when the two of you finally made eye contact. you squeezed each other tightly as you hugged, unspoken words being communicated.

“now, before anyone looks at the menu, i just wanted to let you know, it’s on brady tonight.” emma held up her hand as mouths began to protest across the table. “he insisted, and we won’t be taking no for an answer.”

and maybe you should’ve protested a little harder to look more sincere, but your job wasn’t paying you well enough to afford a 70 dollar steak and drinks.

the table breaks up into mini conversations while everyone was looking over the menu. you were doing the same when an elbow nudged you from the right. you glanced over at taryn who wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she wanted your attention, it was something you’d always admired about her.

“long time, no see,” she said. but before you could respond, she spoke up again. “how have you been?”

you shrugged and moved your eyes back to the menu to look busy. “nothing has been going on really, just working.” you cleared your throat and hesitantly made eye contact again. “and you? what have you been up to?”

taryn shifted in her seat, a tell you knew was coming. you weren’t a stranger to where she’d been the past few weeks, you still followed her on instagram, you followed all of the tkachuks on instagram, even matt. so you knew she’d just gotten back after the panthers lost in game five of the finals.

you nudged her with your shoulder and gave her a small smile. “it’s okay, i’m not gonna burst into tears if you mention him.”

taryn smiled. “i’m exhausted, we were traveling everywhere for matt it felt like. it was cutting into my workouts.”

your jaw clenched at the mention of his name, mainly to distract you from feeling the ache in your chest, but you kept a pleasant look on your face anyway. “you still have the rest of the summer for your workouts, though. summer’s barely started.”

taryn nodded but she didn’t say anything for a moment. you started to shift in your seat when she reached a hand out and squeezed your own. “i miss you,” she said sincerely. “it hasn’t been the same without you around.”

“taryn...”

“you know, you’re still in, like, most of our family photos hanging on the wall. mom and dad haven’t taken them down.”

you weren’t sure if that made you happy or brought you pain.

“i begged them not to, you’re in too many memories for us to just forget you.” she cleared her throat and looked back at her menu, giving you a break from the sincere staredown the two of you were having. “they ask about you all the time, but they didn’t want to impose, mom especially. said she’d understand if you never wanted to see them again.”

you tried reading the menu through blurry eyes and pinched your lips together so no one would see them tremble. “i’ve been meaning to get coffee with your mom,” you said, though you both knew it was a lie. you’d made yourself scarce for a reason.

“she’d be happy to see you again, she just didn’t want to overstep.”

you nodded, still not looking at the girl you fully believed would be your sister one day. “i’ll text her.”

the waiter came by moments later to take your orders. thankfully, the tears had cleared up out of your eyes. as soon as you’d cleared your throat, you were telling the server your order without your voice shaking.

you bore the grief well, you thought. you laughed when everyone else did, smiled when appropriate, and asked follow up questions. socializing wasn’t hard, years of galas and charity events as matt’s plus one had trained you well for moments like these, so long as you avoided the eyes of taryn and emma, both of whom knew you better than anyone else at the table.

emma paid with brady’s card like she’d promised earlier. unfortunately for you, that’s when the anxiety started to come back. taryn was leaving after dinner, too young to go to the bars with the rest of you, and according to what emma had told you, she had plans with friends.

the group left together, with taryn waving goodbye as the rest of you headed to a bar three blocks away. your hands were shaking, so you shoved them in your pockets to hide the trembling.

it’d get better once you got a few drinks in you, you told yourself. you’d loosen up soon enough.

emma opened a tab with brady’s card and you immediately started going in. the group started with a round of shots, but you were quickly ordering more than just tequila. it was only a matter of time before your vision started lagging and your brain began buffering to keep up with what was happening.

you were on the dance floor, grinding against a stranger, who thankfully, was keeping their hands to themselves, when emma tugged your arm, giggling. “everyone else has left. and i think it’s time for us to go,” she slurred, a giant smile on her face.

you allowed yourself to be tugged away from the stranger. “how do you know?” you asked, fumbling over your words like trying to catch a bar of soap with wet hands.

emma smiled and pointed at the bar where brady was, you assumed, closing out the tab. seeing him in the flesh had your heart stuttering. the anxiety was kicking back in, hitting harder than it did when you were sober. you hadn’t seen brady since november, or was it december? the months had blurred together just like that one scene from new moon.

but now you were seeing him in the flesh, and he was getting closer as emma tugged you over to where he was. brady was just slipping his card back in his wallet when the two of you got to him. he looked up and smiled at his fianceé before he even realized you were standing there. the lovesick smile dropped but it was quickly replaced with shock before it was transformed into a smile you could’ve painted from memory.

“hey!” he said just loud enough to be heard over the noise. “i didn’t think you were coming tonight.”

if you were sober, you’d see that statement as a warning, preparation for what was to come. you would’ve noticed the way his eyes kept darting to the entrance of the bar, but you didn’t. you were just happy to see him for the first time in a while, feeling the semblance of home you’d been missing for months.

if you were sober, you would’ve remembered that brady and his brother were a package deal. you would’ve known that the nights brady wasn’t spending with emma, he was spending with your ex, and when emma had inevitably texted (or brady offered) her fiancé to pick her up, that he was more than likely already out with his brother celebrating his upcoming nuptials.

if you were sober, you would’ve noticed him walk through the door because your eyes were always drawn to him. you would’ve known it was him by the smell of his cologne, instead of waiting for him to slap his brother on the shoulder in greeting.

if you were sober, you would’ve made a break for it the second he started approaching you, emma, and brady.

but you were drunk off your ass, and all you could do was stand there like a dumbfounded idiot while matthew brendan tkachuk glanced around the room.

brady shifted on his feet a little, bracing for the moment you both knew was coming. the moment where matt saw you for the first time since november 29, when he played calgary. you’d imagine to brady, it felt like watching a car accident happen in real time. to you though, you were the accident. you were the one getting hit by a bus going full speed. you were rooted to the spot, taking in every feature of matt’s face that you’d missed over the last six months, waiting for him to see you.

if you were sober, you would’ve run away by now, knowing that being that close to him would do nothing for you.

but it was too late now.

matt finally glanced at emma, then brady, until his eyes landed on you. the smile on his lips from the song that was bumping through the speakers dropped almost immediately. he recoiled, took a small step back, almost as if he was shocked to see you there at all.

you felt like an idiot.

you weren’t sure how long the two of you stared at each other before you took a deep breath and stared at your shoes.

your hands were shaking again.

you shoved them in your pockets again.

matt’s eyes darted to your shorts at the movement, his eyes scrunched together in what looked like concern, but you brushed that thought off before you could convince yourself he still cared. but you could feel his stare on you, even as you looked around and avoided eye contact. you felt like an ant, with matt’s gaze being the magnifying glass that was burning you with a beam of sunlight.

“do you have a ride home?” brady asked. your head whipped back around to look at him and emma.

you shrugged, already feeling more sober than you were two minutes ago. “was gonna uber.”

matt scoffed. “not happening.”

out of nowhere anger bubbled out of your chest and out of your mouth. “excuse me?”

matt fixed you with a hard stare, one you didn’t shy away from. “you’re not ubering home on a friday night drunk as hell. it’s not happening.”

“i think you lost the right to make my decisions six months ago.” you refused to say his name, refused to know what it felt like to have it back on your tongue even though your heart was crying out to utter those two syllables again.

brady interjected before the disagreement could escalate. “i just wanna make sure you get home safe,” he said. “can i drive you home?”

you glanced at the man you used to know like a little brother. you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the concern.

and maybe it was the love for brady and emma that had you accepting. or maybe it was the alcohol. you nodded your head and let emma lock arms with you as you were led out by the tkachuk brothers.

you found yourself in the backseat where you used to hold hands with matt when you went on double dates with brady and emma. the two of you used to tease the younger couple when they did literally anything romantic. if brady so much as grabbed emma’s hand, the two of you were gagging in the backseat “choking on their pda” all while knowing brady and emma have caught you in more compromising positions before.

but it wasn’t like that this time around.

you slid into your usual seat in the back before emma could offer up shotgun to you. maybe if you were more selfish, you’d accept, but you weren’t going to let your friend sit away from her fiancé when you could just suck it up.

the space between you and matt felt too suffocatingly small and yet it still felt like you were on two opposite sides of the globe. you thought about taking a risk and throwing yourself out of the moving vehicle, but there was still a wedding you were both in. you needed to figure out how to tolerate being around him if you didn’t want to cause a scene later in the summer.

you just had to make it to the end of july, then you could go back and pretend like december 16th never happened, like the past nine years of your life never happened. like you never fell in love with your best friend, like you never met him and his mother in fourth grade, like your parents never moved you to st. louis. like there weren’t traces of your failed relationship in every scrapbook in your parents’ house, like he wasn’t tied to every significant moment of your childhood.

you felt like the bundle of christmas lights that you’d sworn you put back in an orderly fashion the previous year, only to pull them out and realize you had an entire project on your hands to detangle them all.

except in the end, none of the lights worked anyway.

you could hardly remember a time where your life wasn’t deeply intertwined with matthew’s. you thought it’d lead to something, to marriage, to raising kids together, to celebrating his retirement, buying a home close to his family, and growing fat and old together.

you hated the idea that you went down that road only for it to be a dead end.

brady pulled up outside your house. you were unbuckling your seat belt and throwing the door open before he’d even put the car in park. you were doing your best to get to the front porch before anything else happened, but as hard as you tried, you were still a little too drunk. you were stumbling up the driveway and to the front door, all the while trying to figure out which key was the key to your house.

a car door slammed in the distance before footsteps followed.

you knew the sound like you knew the sound of your mother’s sadness. you would’ve recognized his footfalls anywhere.

in your haste and anxiety, you dropped your keys. you squatted down and nearly tipped over at the rush to your head. matt’s hand shot out before you could grab the keys while his other hand grabbed your elbow and pulled you into a standing position. he led you to the front door and with ease, found your house key. he unlocked the door but didn’t move to open it. you could feel his stare on the side of your face, but you refused to look back.

his touch on your skin felt like it was burning, and part of you wanted to rip your arm out of his grasp, but you couldn’t.

you just—

couldn't.

matt said your name quietly, but you just shook your head, willing the tears to go away. he didn’t get to see you cry, didn’t get to know that his actions had absolutely wrecked you. he tried again, but you inhaled and jerked your arm out of his reach before you opened your front door, grabbed your keys, and shut it in his face.

you barely made it into your bathroom before you threw up.

before

you were bouncing on your toes at the airport. matt’s plane landed fifteen minutes ago, and you were anxiously waiting for him to round the corner.

matt’s first year with the ntdp made your relationship a little difficult, though, you thought it would be harder than it was. modern technology definitely made it easier on you. matt would call you just about every other night, and if he couldn’t, matt was texting you whenever he had the freetime.

the last time you saw each other was when you and the tkachuks spent your spring break in ann arbor to visit, and that had been over a month ago. thankfully, you’d managed to convince your mom to let you check out of school early to wait for him.

“someone’s excited,” taryn teased, bumping her shoulder into your side. 

“honey leave her alone,” chantal chided. “we’re all excited.”

“i’m not,” brady grumbled. not even a beat later, keith was slapping the back of his head.

moments later, matt walked around the corner with his bags in hand. you fought every urge to run to him, deciding he probably wanted to greet his family first. and he did, you watched as he hugged his mom and dad first, moving the taryn, before punching brady in the shoulder.

you were nervously playing with the hem of your school issued plaid skirt as you looked on, suddenly feeling out of place. but it didn’t linger because in a blink of an eye, matt’s arms were wrapping around your waist and tugging you into his chest.

a sigh escaped your lips, one you didn’t even know was held hostage in your chest. maybe you were being dramatic (you were almost 16, after all), but it felt like the part of you that was missing was just returned.

“missed you,” he mumbled into your neck.

you couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips.

matt didn’t let go of you, even when everyone started walking towards the car where keith parked. your hand was tightly grasped in his own, forcing brady to carry the other bag matt couldn’t. to make up for it, you offered to sit in the back of keith’s escalade so brady could have more leg room. matt ended up grumbling about it, but it was clear he wasn’t going to let you sit in the back next to taryn when he hadn’t seen you in weeks.

“i ruined my perfect attendance streak for you,” you said as you traced the veins of his hands.

matt smirked. “i messed up little miss perfect’s squeaky clean record? how will you ever get into college now?”

you ripped your hand from his and shoved his shoulder, barely restraining yourself from cussing him out. “shut up,” was what you settled for because while taryn and brady had most definitely heard their fair share of curse words, you didn’t want to be the one on the receiving end of chantal’s disapproving look, even if it meant keith would be fighting for his life to hold back laughter.

all four of you, keith and chantal excluded, all but scrambled out of the car when it pulled into the garage. you and matt grabbed both of his bags before bum rushing into the house and up the stairs to his room.

“leave the door open!” chantal called from the first floor.

you didn’t need to see his face to know matt was rolling his eyes.

“i’m tempted to ignore her and just slam and lock the door,” he grumbled.

you dropped the bag you were holding and guffawed. “you wouldn’t. you love your mom.”

matt dropped his bag and immediately took the opportunity to grab you by the waist. “and i love you.”

you almost giggled, but you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself so you beamed instead. the first time he said those words was a few months ago over facetime and it still made you giddy as it did then.

matt pressed his forehead against yours. “you’re not gonna say it back?” he asked.

you blinked, still smiling. “what?”

“you're not gonna say you love me back?”

you shrugged, knowing it would get under his skin. you knew the consequences. “hm,” you hummed. “do i need to?”

matt rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might’ve gotten stuck in the back of his head. “quit being smart.”

and maybe you should’ve given up, maybe you should’ve let it go and say those three little words you’d said countless times before. but teasing him was way too much fun to pass up when you hadn’t seen him in months. so you pursed your lips and hummed again. “i seem to recall you saying you liked how smart i am. something about being the beauty and the brains?”

and out of nowhere, taryn popped her head in. “well matt for sure wasn’t going to be the beauty, and he’s never been the brains,” she smirked.

matt let go of you and marched over to the door, all but slamming it in her face.

“matthew brendan tkachuk! that door better be open!” chantal’s voice carried up the stairs had you lunging across the room and whipping open the door in a hurry.

“sorry mrs. tkachuk!” you called out before turning around and glaring at your boyfriend. “you’re a menace.”

matthew smirked and pulled you close enough that you were chest to chest. “but you love me.”

“i love you so much.”

after

the hangover you had the next morning was probably the worst you ever remember having. well, until you remembered the night matt broke up with you, that was the worst one.

you turned over in bed, picked up your phone, and saw multiple texts from emma and brady alike, both ranging from “it was great to see you” to “i’m so sorry about last night.” you groaned and dropped your phone back on the nightstand.

last night, when you thought about it, hurt more than it should’ve. you saw him for the first time in the flesh and it looked like he was fine, like he didn’t completely upend your life six months ago when he ended things. part of you wondered if he could see through you, through the illusion of your happiness and to the core where you were just as fractured as you were december 17th. 

the rest of the weekend continued with you doing little to nothing but eating and binging trashy reality tv shows. when your alarm went off on monday morning, you contemplated calling off, but got dressed instead.

“you look like hell,” was the first thing frankie, your mentor and boss, said to you. because of the nature of your relationship, you felt comfortable flipping him off, even as he passed you a cup of coffee. “rough night?” he asked after watching you take a hefty sip of the hot beverage.

“rough weekend,” you grumbled.

frankie gave you a small smile and patted you on the back as the two of you walked to the workspace. “wanna talk about it?”

you recognized performative kindness when you saw it. while you firmly believed frankie cared about you and your wellbeing, you also knew he didn’t want to hear the sob story of how you ran into your ex drunk at a bar, at least, not at 8am. so you shook your head.

“i looked at some of your work on the bradshaw family’s piece so far, and i was impressed. i do have some notes, but for the most part, you’ve been doing a great job.”

you did your best to smile gratefully, but you weren’t sure it translated. “i really appreciate your guidance on this, and the trust you have to let me work on some of these projects.”

“you’re very talented,” he said. “you ever thought about creating something for yourself or someone else?”

there wasn’t a word to describe the noise that came out of your mouth. was it a nervous laugh? a squeak maybe? you didn’t know, and neither did frankie.

“what?” he asked. “why is that so scary?”

you shrugged as the two of you made it to the workspace. normally, you would start by pulling out the supplies you needed to begin working on the bradshaw piece, but if frankie met you at the door, it was because he wanted to have an impromptu meeting first.

“i feel like i’m good at fixing things,” you said. “maybe not creating something from thin air.”

“you have so much talent,” frankie replied. “i hate to see it wasted on fixing and preserving someone else’s work when you could be doing both. it could be your art that people hang in their houses and pay thousands of dollars to preserve.”

you nodded, but kept your eyes on the table, studying the wood grain and tracing the pattern with your finger.

“i don’t think i’m capable of that anymore.”

frankie reached over and squeezed your shoulder. “just think on it, okay? couldn’t hurt to just think on it.” he walked out a moment later, giving you space and time to queue up music and get started on the day.

you opened spotify and pressed the play button on your liked songs without even thinking about it. not even two seconds later, you regretted your decision. the soft tones and beats of frank ocean’s thinkin bout you echoed through the room and slammed against your chest. you immediately switched the song and found a classical playlist to listen to instead.

but the tune wouldn’t get out of your head.

not two minutes later.

not thirty minutes later.

not after your full eight hour shift spent hunched over your workstation.

not even on the drive home.

frank ocean’s voice permeated every fiber of your being.

it was simone who first showed you the song in high school. you remembered liking the melody enough, but you didn’t get the lyrics. and why would you? you were in love with your best friend who loved you back. even though you were fourteen and too young to even think about marriage, you knew matthew was going to be the person you ended up with. it was him or no one.

and now it was no one.

now, you listened to the song play over and over in your head, the lyrics resonating with you deeper than ever before.

you pulled into your driveway, completely unaware of what cars were parked in the street. they’d never mattered to you before. why would they now?

you sat in your car for a few minutes, taking a deep breath while you worked up the courage to go inside. when you finally got a grip on your emotions, you opened your door and grabbed your bag. you were too busy fumbling with your keys to notice anything amiss until you were on your porch and a pair of shoes came into sight.

“hey.”

it took everything in you not to scream. you dropped your keys and nearly dropped your bag. matthew stood on your front porch with his hands in the pockets in his shorts like he was innocent of any pain or suffering he’d caused you. he was in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and you hated yourself a little bit for thinking he’s attractive like that.

“what’re you doing here?” you hated how hoarse your voice sounded, like a low quality audio recording where things sounded muffled and broken.

“your dad wouldn’t let me in.”

“good.”

matt sighed and ran a hand down his face. “can we not do this?”

“not do what?” you asked. “not act like you ended things for no damn reason?”

“if you—”

“we dated for nearly ten years and you decided to end it over a five minute phone call. and you still think you’re entitled to my time?” and maybe you should’ve been kinder, maybe you should’ve been more civil. but you hadn’t seen or heard from him in months (until a few nights ago) and he just turned up out of the blue? expecting you to do what? forgive him? move on?

matthew said your name delicately, but not in the way he used to, like saying your name was a luxury he was honored to have. no, he said it like you were going to break, like you were fragile, like he wasn’t the sole cause of your pain. “please—”

the anger was draining out of you quicker. you were exhausted between work, and frank ocean’s stupid song, and the other night. 

“what do you want?” your voice cracked on the last word. “wanna ruin my life a little bit more? put the final nail in the coffin?”

“no,” he shook his head fervently. matthew took a step towards you and looked something close to devastated when you stepped back. but it didn’t make sense, he ended it, he had no right to look or feel that way. “i just wanna talk.”

“six months,” you said, doing your best to keep your voice clear. “you had six months to say something. what could you possibly have to say now that you couldn’t then?”

“i know we didn’t end on the best of terms—” he started, but it was cut off by your scoff. you turned your head away and used your palm to wipe at your eyes before you crossed your arms over your chest. “—but i don’t think we should let this ruin brady and emma’s summer. we’re gonna see a lot of each other and i don’t want things to be tense around them.”

you took a minute to really look at him. blonde frizzy curls, blue eyes that wouldn’t leave your face. he hadn’t changed one bit.

one summer, you’d attempted to count the number of freckles on his shoulders. you got up to 87 before you gave up.

and yet you felt like you were standing in front of a stranger.

there were so many things you wanted to say, so many things you’d dreamt of screaming at him, but now that he was here, in front of you, asking something of you, you felt drained, tired. you used to crave his presence, now it felt like a leech.

you loved him, but he was sucking the life out of you.

so you nodded. you nodded and said “okay,” before you walked inside your front door and left your heart on the porch.

you pressed your back against the door and slid to the ground, pulling your knees to your chest. there was no telling when you started crying, or when your dad joined you on the floor, hugging you as close to his chest as he could.

“why wasn’t i enough?” you sobbed into your knees.

your dad petted your hair before he pressed a kiss there. “you’re more than enough, honey. but you can’t make anyone love you if they’re not willing to.”

“he used to!” you wailed. “he used to love me!” then, in a smaller voice, “what changed?”

a beat of silence, then your father’s somber, quiet voice. “maybe he did.”

before

“so what are your plans for after high school?” ms. meyer, your high school guidance counselor sat across from you at her desk. her stare was kind, but unwavering.

you’d already applied to notre dame, knowing that’s where matt committed. so when you answered, it was confident. it had been your plan since matt said yes to the school. “i’m going to notre dame and majoring in art history.”

“do you have any back up schools?”

you nodded. “ucla and the art institute of chicago.”

ms. meyer pursed her lips. “you know all of those places are highly competitive, right?”

“my transcripts and resume are impressive and I did really well on the SAT and ACT. i think i’ll be able to get in.” and you were, you were pretty confident as they come when it came to academics. any school would’ve been lucky to have you, that much you believed.

ms. meyer nodded. “i understand ucla and the art institute, both of those schools have incredible arts programs, but why notre dame? it doesn’t seem to fit with your aspirations.”

“oh,” you laughed under your breath. “that’s where my boyfriend is going.”

your guidance counselor blinked. “you’re incredibly smart and gifted, i’d hate to see that talent wasted when you could be developing it elsewhere. what do you want?”

“i want to be with matthew.”

ms. meyer sighed and gave you a sympathetic smile, you weren’t sure why though. you’d never been more sure of anything. “honey, can i be honest with you?” she didn’t wait for your response. “you have so much talent, so much to offer, i’ve seen many girls come in here, putting off aspirations for their significant others only for that relationship not to last.”

“i know we’re young,” you started, already feeling the heat rise up in your chest. she didn’t know anything about you personally, she didn’t know about you and matt. “but we’re gonna make it, i swear.”

ms. meyer nodded. “of course you are.” she cleared her throat and adjusted the papers in front of her. “so, notre dame...”

after

you weren't exactly sure what compelled you to do it, but at dinner a few nights ago, your mom had asked about what happened to simone, your friend from middle and high school. so you reached out, though it made you feel like you were contacting someone to join your mlm.

it legitimately surprised you when simone replied to your facebook message. the two of you made plans to get coffee on saturday.

and now it was saturday.

you weren’t getting coffee until 9:30, but you were awake and staring at your ceiling at 7. you’d done the due diligence of stalking simone’s profile, so you knew she was married with two kids who looked just like her. she worked as a data analyst for kroger and her husband was a public defender. she met her husband in college and they got married shortly after they graduated from grad and law school respectively. 

if you were a better woman, you’d admit you were jealous. jealous that she got what she wanted in the end. but when you put that aside, you still felt overwhelming happiness at her station in life, regardless of how yours turned out.

you kept scrolling through her social media until it was eventually time for you to get up. you stayed to facebook, not even wanting to bother with going on instagram and accidentally stumbling across one of the tkachuks’ posts.

it was 9:10 when you finally finished getting dressed and ready. you came down the stairs and threw a goodbye over your shoulder before grabbing your crossbody bag and your keys and running out the door.

despite your sprinting and nearly running red lights, you were still five minutes late. you came into the coffee shop, gasping for air after sprinting down the sidewalk from your parking spot.

the second you entered the business, simone’s hand lifted and she smiled brightly, calling you over almost immediately. she stood to greet you, and like no time had passed, pulled you in for a hug.

“it’s so good to see you,” she said. “wasn’t sure if you still liked an iced chai latte, but i got one for you.”

“oh my god, yes,” you gasped before taking a seat and taking a sip of the beverage.

she kept smiling, which made you feel lighthearted for once. most people kept looking at you with pitying eyes, but simone saw you for more than the grief of the last six months. she had to know about it, she just had to, but you thanked her for not bringing it up in the first minute of your conversation.

“how’s work going?”

you shrugged. “it’s mostly tedious, but it’s been fine. what about you? working for kroger? that’s a huge deal.”

simone shook her head. “it’s just a means to an end, a way i can pay for my family’s lifestyle.”

“but are you passionate about what you do?”

she shrugged lightly. “it’s a job, it’s not my life. not everyone is going to work a job that fulfills them. my husband? he loves being a public defender, and he’s good at it. me though, as fun as analyzing data all day sounds and as helpful as it is, getting to have a job that doesn’t come home with me is probably my favorite part of it.”

you nodded along like you understood. and maybe you didn’t do a good enough job at being convincing because simone sighed.

“i wanted to wait to ask this, but i can’t hold it in any longer. how’re you holding up?”

it took you several seconds to answer her question. your mouth open and closed multiple times. “i— i don't know.” you sank back into your seat and picked at your cuticles. “it’s been a shitty few months,” you admitted. “you’d think i’d be over it by now.

simone shook her head and leaned in, arms braced on the table. “you two were together for a decade, what’s a few months in comparison to that?”

you shrugged. “i saw him the other night, when i went out drinking with the other bridesmaids. it was like, i don't know, i got dunked in an ice bath or something. he looked completely unaffected and i couldn’t breathe.”

simone whispered your name.

“but i’m fine!” you asserted. “i’m trying to be.”

simone nodded. “so what do you do now?”

you could’ve kissed her feet for the change in topic. “i’m working in the art restoration and conservation field.”

simone blinked. “you’re restoring art? do you like it?”

you shrugged. “most days, it can get repetitive, but that’s what i like.”

your friend sighed and fixed you with a soft, sympathetic look. “but is that what you want to do for the rest of your life? restoring someone else’s art? doing something repetitive? you are so talented, i hate to see you wasting that talent restoring someone else’s work.”

“it’s not a waste! it’s incredibly difficult and some things deserve to be preserved.”

“but some new things deserve to be created.” simone leaned in closer, her forearms braced on the table. “i think it would do you some good to start creating something again, even if it’s shitty. and you think you aren’t ready, just try something new. a new bar, a new hobby, a new man, something new.”

your stomach twisted at the thought of going on a date with someone other than matt, but simone was right. it had been six months and he seemed to be doing fine, it was your turn to start moving on, to find yourself again.

so you nodded. “we should do this more often,” you said. “i’ve missed you.”

simone smiled. “i’ve missed you too, i’m glad you’re home.”

you talked for another hour about everything the two of you had missed over the years of you being elsewhere before she had to leave and relieve the nanny at home. simone hugged you goodbye and texted you her new number before she left the coffee shop. 

the drive home was quiet because you were pondering the things she’d said. you weren’t sure you were ready for making your own art, you sure as hell weren’t ready to go on a date. but maybe you should try.

maybe you were ready to put yourself first for once.

before

the biggest argument you’d had with matt was after you found out he wasn’t playing at notre dame at all, he was going to play for calgary.

you felt so stupid for committing to that school when you should’ve known your boyfriend was talented enough to skip it altogether. maybe you should’ve taken a gap year, then you wouldn’t have to be doing even more long distance in two different countries.

the two of you never argued, or maybe never was too strong of a word. you hardly ever had a disagreement if you thought about it long enough. most of the time, you suppressed the disappointment and the anger, shoving it to the side because you were surely being dramatic.

but now you were standing off to the side, waiting for your name to be called to cross the stage at your high school graduation, and you wished you’d said something to convince matthew to delay settling into his new calgary apartment with one of his teammates.

but you swallowed your disappointment and pride and just dealt with the fact that he wouldn’t be there.

it was fine.

just high school.

you were snapped out of your reverie when your name was called. you smiled and walked across the stage. when you dreamt of this exact moment, you always thought you’d walk with grace, that all noise would cease to exist as you honed in on the sheet of paper you’d spent the last 13 years working towards.

but it wasn’t like that.

because you heard one specific voice above all the others. as your principal handed you the diploma, your eyes searched the crowd and saw him.

matthew standing up and yelling with his family next to him. he had a sign, the words you couldn’t read because there were tears forming in your water line. he was pointing at you and kept yelling and clapping, hooting and hollering like it was his full time job. your parents were smiling, though they were seated, and your grandparents were stone faced clapping like they were at the masters tournament.

so you kept your eyes on him, even as you walked back to your seat. you might have stumbled, tripped even, but all you could see, all you could feel was him.

you were back in your seat by the time the person calling out the names spoke again.

“please hold your applause until the end.”

you could hear his scoff, even from your seat.

your leg bounced for the rest of the graduation ceremony. you didn’t even register the turning of your tassel. you just couldn’t wait for it to be over so you could be in matt’s arms.

as soon as the ceremony concluded, matt was shoving his way past families, nearly taking out an elderly gentleman in his quest to get to you. on the other hand, you were being pushed to move farther away from him as the procession of students filed out of the gym. you kept looking over your shoulder to find him, but it looked like brady had caught up to him, wrangling his older brother to follow the crowds outside.

“outside!” brady pointed.

you nodded.

as soon as you got through the gym doors, you were booking it outside into the sunlight. it blinded you momentarily, but you whipped your phone out seconds later to see if matt had texted you where he’d be. you pulled up his contact and were seconds away from calling him when arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you up into the air.

a squeal left your lips until he set you down a moment later. you spun around in his arms and before you could say anything, matthew was kissing you like no one else was around.

when the two of you finally needed air, you pulled away. “i thought you were in calgary!”

matthew scoffed though there was a large smile on his lips. “you thought i’d miss my favorite girl’s graduation? calgary can wait, your high school graduation only happens once.”

“i’m glad you’re here,” you whispered. 

“me too, baby.”

unfortunately, matt pulled away so you could hug your parents and even your grandparents who were standing off to the side. taryn and brady pulled you into a group hug afterwards, with taryn going on a tangent about all the fun things the two of you would have to do before you left for school.

but brady was taking your graduation cap off your head to ruffle your hair as matt grabbed your purse and took your car keys out. keith and chantal were offering to pay for a celebratory lunch while your grandparents gave an irish goodbye. your parents were smiling, you were tucked into matt’s side, and brady and taryn were bickering and—

everything was perfect.

you wanted to freeze that moment, that sensation in your chest, take the saccharine feeling and bottle it up and store it on your bookshelf. 

and if you could’ve, you would’ve savored the sensation of matt’s lips pressed to your temple while both of your dads discussed the best route to get to the restaurant.

but you had no idea how the future would turn out.

you thought matt was forever.

after

you were on a double date, or at least, hyping yourself up to go into the bar and meet up with simone, her husband, and a friend of theirs. you didn’t want to be a bitch, but you also didn’t want to send yourself into a panic attack. simone had suggested just entertaining something with someone, didn’t even have to be serious, it could just be sex.

you could do that, right?

just casual sex?

the thought was nauseating. you’d only slept with matthew, no one knew your body like he did and—

you stopped yourself before you could go down that rabbit hole.

your hands shook as you stepped out of your car and locked it. maybe you should’ve gotten an uber, but then again, you weren’t really planning on drinking like that. you were hoping you’d still be sober enough to go home.

the music in the bar shockingly wasn’t as loud as you expected. it wasn’t the bass bumping, ass grinding bar like the ones matt used to take you to after games. even still, your palms started sweating as you looked around. you spotted simone’s natural hair across the room and made your way towards her. 

her husband, stephen, stood to greet you first, followed by simone, then lastly your date. a guy named andrew who was a partner at his firm, the youngest on his team.

his handshake was firm, but there were no calluses on his palm. his hair was slicked back with what you guessed was a pomade.

he was so unlike matthew it was alarming.

but maybe it was for the best.

you smiled and took your seat next to simone, you sipped on the water in front of you.

“we didn’t want to order drinks without you just yet.”

“thank you,” you mumbled just loud enough for everyone to hear.

“it’s nice to finally meet you,” andrew started. “simone spoke highly of you. she said you’ve been friends since middle school.”

you felt bad because simone didn’t really say much to you about him. if you were a gambler, you’d assume it was because she didn’t want you to back out. you barely even knew him and you were already comparing him to matt.

which wasn’t fair, you knew that. andrew deserved to be a human without the baggage of your last and only relationship determining how you viewed him.

you would try, at the very least for simone. at the very most, you’d try for yourself.

“nice to meet you too. i heard you’re a partner at your law firm? how is that going?”

oh god. you were so bad at this. asking about work on a friday night?

but he smiled. his teeth were perfectly straight and white. you'd bet your last dollar that he'd never needed braces, not like you did.

you hated yourself for thinking of the gap between matthew’s teeth.

“it’s going well,” he said. “lot of work, but i managed to get enough done this week that my friday was free. i wanted to meet the ‘best artist on planet earth,’ according to simone.”

“oh i don’t know about that,” you flushed.

simone scoffed. “don’t downplay yourself.” she turned to look at andrew. “you should see the art she created in high school as a teenager. it was so impressive.”

“what medium do you like working with the most?” he asked.

“mostly acrylic.”

andrew’s eyes lit up. “do you have any photos of your art? i’d love to see your work.”

you shook your head, feeling a little embarrassed at all the attention. “i don’t really paint like that anymore. i work in art conservation now, not a whole lot of time to create something new.”

“that’s such a unique career! what does your average day look like?” andrew leaned forward a little and took a sip of his water.

you told him a little bit about what you did. about how you spent hours hunched over a painting and fixing the smallest problems in hopes it would satisfy the client.

“you must’ve gone to some prestigious art school for that. if you don’t mind me asking, where did you go to college?”

your spine stiffened. “university of calgary.”

and just like you anticipated, his face twisted in confusion. there was no logical reason you should’ve gone out of the country for a regular school. it would be one thing if you went to an art institute, but you didn’t.

“why calgary?” he asked. “seems a bit random, if you don’t mind me asking.”

you shifted in your seat and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. it wasn’t until you cleared your throat in a sorry attempt to get the lump out, that you spoke. “it’s a long story,” you said. “thought i had a future in calgary.”

andrew, to his credit, knew when to not ask questions and changed the subject immediately.

the rest of the night passed in a blur. you were only halfway present, your mind reeling at how you wasted those years in calgary waiting for a man who would dump you as soon as he moved to a warmer state.

he, quite literally, left you in the cold.

andrew offered to walk you to your car, an offer you accepted because it was dark and st. louis.

“i had a great time tonight,” he said. “it was really nice to meet you. you’re even better than simone and stephen said.”

you gave him a small smile. “it was nice to meet you too.”

andrew shifted on his feet. for a moment, he didn’t look the part of the youngest partner at his law firm, he looked like a boy. “i was hoping maybe you’d want to do this again? maybe get some dinner?”

your throat felt like someone had force fed you cotton balls. but then you thought about how pathetic your life had been the last six months, how pathetic it was going to be when you flew to new jersey to be in the same bridal party as your ex.

you refused to be pathetic any longer.

which is probably why you smiled (albeit shakily) and said yes.

before

you were bouncing on your toes in the hallway as you waited for matt. it was a brutal game, and he spent a good portion of it in the penalty box, mostly for minor things, but one incident was for fighting. which wasn’t atypical, but you’d never seen him that keyed up before.

and given his reputation, there were any number of things that could’ve caused the fight itself. two weeks ago, matt had fought someone for being too forceful with one of his teammates, which after years of watching the game, was on par with the sport and your boyfriend.

because he fought so much, you weren’t necessarily surprised whenever he did. sure, you flinched when he was punched, knowing how badly it would bruise, praying to whatever higher power existed that he would still have all his teeth. but usually, matt wasn’t trying to fight everyone on the ice at all times.

tonight was different.

safe to say, you were a little anxious waiting for him to come out.

you weren’t exactly sure about what was said on the ice to get him so riled up. the worst you’d seen was when someone on the other team said something about taryn. you used to think that was the angriest you ever saw him. and it was.

until tonight.

you could feel the energy rolling off of him in waves as he exited the locker room. usually, after a win, matt is relaxed and easy going, but despite the victory from tonight, he was tense and pent up, frustrated even.

“hey,” you said, meeting him halfway.

matthew didn’t respond, just dropped his bag and wrapped you up in a hug, tucking his head into the space where your neck met your shoulder.

“you okay?” you asked.

he nodded. he squeezed your waist once before letting go, taking your hand instead. “ready to go?”

the car ride was silent minus the music matthew had playing through the aux. his hand rested on your thigh, though the grip was particularly tighter than normal, especially after a win. part of you wanted to ask, the other part not wanting to spoil the rest of the night with your curiosity.

but this was the man you loved. and it hurt you to see him this upset.

normally, you would’ve left well enough alone, but you were going back to notre dame in two days and didn’t want to spend the rest of your time walking on eggshells around him. you couldn’t help him if you didn’t know what was wrong.

“what happened?” you asked when the car came to a stop at a light.

“nothing,” he grunted.

“your team won and you’re still grumpy, matthew. so tell me, what happened? i want to help you.”

“there’s nothing to help.”

“matthew,” you groaned. “i’m only here for two days, can you just be honest with me? i don’t wanna waste the rest of my trip with you being upset when i can help you—”

“then go back to indiana!” he all but yelled, ripping his hand off your thigh so he could shove it through his disheveled hair.

your jaw dropped. in all the years you’d known matt, he'd never talked to you that way. and you weren’t starting a bad habit by letting him think he could ever do it again. you unbuckled your seat belt and grabbed your bag. you tugged on the handle of the door. “i’ll see you at home,” you said.

matt scoffed. “don’t be dramatic.”

“i’m not being ‘dramatic,’ matthew. you’re being an asshole.” you braced yourself for the cold as the door opened and let in a cold breeze.

matthew called your name, but you ignored him and slammed the car door shut. it was a little petty, considering how matt had berated his siblings over the same thing.

a car honked, probably because the light had turned green and matt was still sitting at the light, looking at you.

a cold wind blew and for a moment, you thought about hopping back in the car with matt, but he was pulling away and your pride wasn’t ready to take a hit just yet.

his car sped away until, with an efficiency you only wish you had, he parallel parked in a spot just up the road.

“get in the car,” he called, slamming his car door shut. “it’s too cold for you to be proving a point.”

“and what point am i trying to prove, matthew?” you asked over your shoulder.

you kept walking.

“would you please stop walking and just get back in the car?”

you kept walking.

a hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, you might’ve shrieked had it not been gentle, had you not recognized the scent of matt’s cologne.

gently, he turned you around.

“baby, just get in the car. you don’t even have to talk to me. don't even have to look at me if you don’t want to. i’ll sleep on the couch or something, but it’s not safe for you to be walking home alone.” he ran his thumb back and forth over your pulse point in a soothing manner.

you kept your eyes on his hand. “what happened during the game?

he sighed, shoulders sagging like they were tired from carrying the weight of the world. “they were talking shit.”

you blinked. “and that’s different....how?”

with the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. “they were talking shit about you. saying you deserved better and shit.”

“matthew, you know that’s not true—”

“they called you names.” his voice was dark, angrier than you'd ever heard before. “things i’m not comfortable repeating.”

a shiver went down your spine, for matt to be that upset made you uncomfortable. you didn’t want to think about what they said, you didn’t want to dwell on it any longer.

“well,” you said, voice feeling small and weak in your throat. “well, we know it’s not true, so it doesn’t matter.” you tried to make your way back to the car, but matt’s grip on your wrist stopped you.

“but it does matter,” he insisted. “what they said, i get it wasn't true, you and i both know that. but i’m not gonna let anyone talk shit about you, i don’t care who they are.”

your eyes finally met his own and in the blue you saw determination and conviction there. you started towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“i love you, matty.”

he kissed the top of your head. “love you more.”

after

“where are you going?” your mom asked from the couch.

your dad looked up from his james patterson book to squint at your outfit: a square neck black dress. “are you going out?” he chimed in.

you felt sheepish, like the fifteen year old girl going on her first solo date, no parents picking her up because matt just got his license. “remember that guy i went on a double date with?”

“with simone and her husband?” you mom asked.

you nodded. “we’re going out again, just us tonight.”

your mother gave you a small smile while you dad kept staring. “have fun, sweetheart.”

your dad, however, put his book down and looked at you above the rim of his glasses. “are you gonna be okay?”

“alan, this will be good for her!”

but your dad’s eyes never left your face. “you’ll call if you need something?”

“andrew’s a good guy, dad.” or at least, you were assuming so. you’d only met the guy one other time and he seemed alright.

but you could see the look in your father’s eyes, you could hear what he wasn’t saying.

so was matthew.

you swallowed and nodded at your parents. your phone pinged with a notification that your uber was outside. “i’ll be back.”

the drive to the bar was silent. usually, you wouldn’t have taken an uber, but you were unsure how drunk you would get tonight. the date could go well, it could be everything you wanted, even if all you wanted was matthew. 

but you were prepared for the worst. you were prepared to drink until you couldn’t see straight just to get through the night.

andrew was a nice guy, but he wasn’t who you wanted.

and you hated yourself for it.

the uber pulled up to the bar. and simply because he didn’t kidnap or talk to you, you gave the driver five stars.

andrew was waiting at a high top table for you, a glass of water ready to go. you waved at him and carefully made your way across the room, avoiding people and drinks and people with drinks.

“hey,” he greeted.

you gave him a small smile. “hi.”

“was traffic bad on your way here? i wasn’t sure, given that it’s friday and what not.”

you shook your head. “not too bad.” 

c’mon, think of something. say something. anything.

“crazy busy tonight, huh?” you wanted to facepalm. that was what you came up with? all the words in the world and that was what you—

“yeah,” andrew cut off your mental tirade. “i think some famous guys are here tonight, heard murmurs of it.”

you nearly broke out into a cold sweat. “d-do you know who?”

andrew shrugged. “i didn’t ask, i just heard someone talking about it when i was getting a drink.” then, like he finally realized, he snapped. “do you want anything? i can grab it for you.”

you gave him your drink order with a smile. he tapped the table with his knuckles before promising he'd be right back.

you traced the grain of the table with your finger, allowing it to feel the grooves and water stains left from other customers. it felt awkward, sitting by yourself with no one to talk to. andrew said he'd be back, but the bar was busy, it could be ten, fifteen minutes before he'd come back.

your phone buzzed.

simone: 

how’s it going?

you smiled despite yourself. 

you:

he’s nice. he went to get me a drink.

you put your phone down to look around the bar. it was busier than normal, or at least, what you thought was normal.

you were scrolling through your social media feeds when andrew finally came back. he had your drink in hand with a smile on his face.

“sorry, the line took forever,” he said.

you glanced at the bar to see a small crowd of people. “doesn’t surprise me,” you said. “friday’s are usually busy.”

“yeah especially when there’s two hockey players in town. heard someone at the bar talking about it, thought you might wanna know. simone said you were a fan?”

your stomach dropped to your feet. you took a hefty sip of your drink to avoid andrew seeing a frown on your face. there was a chance that it was a blues player still in town, but your gut knew better. if you were a betting woman, you'd bet your last dollar on it being brady and matt.

you wanted to throw up.

instead, you chugged the drink.

“whoa, you okay?” andrew’s eyes widened a little, maybe in concern, but there was something about the smirk on his face that said otherwise.

you gave him a shaky smile. “just fine. can i get another drink?”

he smiled immediately and got up to get you another.

and another.

and another.

your vision was blurring a little when you tried to cut yourself off, even as andrew was sliding another glass in front of you. you threw the drink back again, not even blinking at it.

matt and brady could be here. it was too soon to see them again, you weren't prepared to see them again. maybe if you drank enough, you’d black out and forget all about tonight.

but then andrew was grabbing your elbow, he was leading you towards the door, encroaching upon your personal space. his lips were on your neck, whispers of what he had planned for you.

your skin crawled, you wanted him off of you, but your arms were sluggish, you were tripping over your feet and he was the only thing holding you up.

“no,” you slurred. “lemme go.”

but he either didn’t hear you or was ignoring you because he kept dragging you to the door.

then the panic set in.

it felt like it came out of nowhere, but maybe the surmounting panic was always there like a loyal friend. you tried squirming out of his grip, shoving at his chest, but the panic was building the longer he held onto you. your head was shaking furiously, your mouth doing its best to protest, but it was like the alcohol made your tongue heavy.

“lemme go—” you tried shoving one more time before you heard a shout in the distance. 

“hey!” you weren’t aware of the people around you being shoved to the side, you were unaware of the rage surrounding you. you were unaware until andrew was ripped away and you were being shoved into another body.

“matt hey—”

brady. you were right, brady was here.

god you loved brady.

“brady?” you slurred, smiling lazily up at him. “you’re here! why’re you here?”

with one arm, brady kept you pressed to him, but he wasn’t acknowledging you. his eyes were focused on his brother holding the collar of your date.

oh. your date.

there was no rhyme or reason for the feeling of horror that washed over you when you realized what almost happened before matt and brady showed up.

you were gonna throw up.

or pass out.

you weren’t sure when you started hyperventilating, but it felt like the walls were closing in. was the music always this loud? was matt always that loud when yelling? you wouldn’t know, he hardly ever yelled at you—

“hey,” brady’s gentle voice sounded it your ear, but it was like you were hearing it from underwater. “hey, breathe, it’s okay. you’re safe now.”

the funny thing about hyperventilating is no one wants to be hyperventilating. it’s similar to worrying in that telling someone to stop worrying is ineffective. brady telling you to breathe wasn’t helping because it wasn’t like you wanted to be light headed and struggling to get oxygen.

your mind was just racing with the thoughts of what almost happened.

were your hands shaking? or was the world just rocky? was it the alcohol? why did andrew give you so much? was he planning on—

oh god.

oh god.

“matt!” brady’s voice again sounding like a deep echo in a cave, one you could barely hear. “matt, i think he got the point, she needs you.”

did you?

but it didn’t matter what you thought, because you were being gently pulled into a pair of arms you would’ve recognized anywhere. you could be deaf, blind, and mute, you could’ve had your nose plugged so you couldn’t smell his aftershave and you still would’ve known it was matt. his arms were the only ones that felt like home.

maybe it was the way your head tucked under his chin perfectly, or the way you could hold your own hand when you wrapped your arms around his waist. maybe it was the way matt tried to fit you into his ribcage whenever he hugged you.

“hey,” his voice was quiet, hoarse from the yelling probably. “you’re okay, i’ve got you. nothing’s gonna hurt you, not while i’m here.” his lips were on the top of your head, mumbling the words into your hair.

“he—he was gonna—”

matt was shushing you, running a hand up and down your back. “do you wanna go outside? get some fresh air?” you nodded against his chest, a place you used to lay your head on at night.

matt walked you outside, brady not far behind. he was supporting most of your weight. you were still incredibly drunk even if the event that just happened sobered you up a little.

your hands were still shaking, your knees a little weak, though you weren’t sure what the original cause of that was. if it was from alcohol, the sleazy date, or just being held by your ex, you weren’t sure.

what a year tonight has been.

your heartbeat slowed down as you listened to matt’s. his hand continued to rub your back in long lines.

“you’re okay,” he continued to say. “i’m not gonna leave you. you’re safe right here, baby.”

your heart soared at the pet name until gravity kicked in and you were right back where you started.

rock bottom.

you pushed away from matt, now that your heart rate had decreased. you stumbled a bit from the lack of stability, but you managed to right yourself before matt could get his hands on you to help you balance.

“you okay?” he asked.

“no,” you mumbled, shaking your head despite the world feeling like it was spinning too fast already. “no. i’m not okay.”

matt took a step towards you, it was like watching a film in slow motion, seeing his face fall as you immediately took a step back.

“baby i—”

“stop! stop calling me that!” you yelled even as your words slurred, throwing your hands up in the air before pulling at your hair. “you—you don’t get to call me that, not anymore. and you certainly don’t get to ride in like some white knight coming to my rescue either!”

“what’re you—” he cut himself off before running a hand down his face. “he was going to hurt you, i wasn’t going to let that happen!”

maybe it was the alcohol that made you more honest than normal. “why? you don’t seem to care what happens anyway?”

“what the hell are you talking about? i would never let someone hurt you, not if i can stop it.”

“but you had no problem hurting me? leaving me in a country alone?”

matt’s jaw dropped. “you can’t seriously be comparing the two. he—he almost—he had every intention of—” but he kept cutting himself off. and by the looks of his clenched fists, it was hurting him more just thinking about it.

and he was right, what almost happened with andrew and what actually happened at the hands of matt were two different things, but it hurt more from matt, the man who swore he’d be at your side, to love you through it all. he’d dropped you like a bad habit and was expecting everything to be normal again? like you hadn’t spent over half your life completely in love with him?

you sighed, your shoulders sagged, all fight evaporating your body once more. “thanks for help, i’ll see you around.” you turned on your heel and nearly ran into brady, whom you forgot was even there.

“let me drive you home,” brady said. “‘s the least i could do.”

brady at least let you sit shotgun this time, with matt in the back. and when he pulled up to your house, matt was the one to walk you to the door like he had many times before.

“can we talk?” he asked. “sometime this week? or next? or whenever you're free?”

you looked at him, really looked at him. his hands shook at his sides and you longed to hold them in your own to steady them like he did for you earlier. “why’re you doing this to me? why can’t you just leave me be?”

matt stared at you before he pressed his lips together. he looked off to the side almost like he was looking at brady waiting in the car or a scrap of self control, or maybe just the right words to say. “i don’t think i’m capable of letting you go.”

your voice caught on the words in your throat. “i need you to try, matt. because i can’t keep doing this. you can’t call me baby when i’m not your baby anymore.”

he nodded. “just one conversation, i promise.”

you should say no. you should just let it go, but you didn’t think you could deny matt anything if he really asked for it. “okay,” you said. “just one conversation.”

[mreowsu]

woke up to a multitude of notifs from the previous one, it appears to have been well-recieved. in return, here is a thank you from me :)

DRABBLES, ONESHOTS / itoshi sae x fem!reader

part one

It didn't take long for friends and family back home to hear of you and Sae's rendezvous in España, and boy are they not happy.

cw my writing. both are 14-15. profanities. itoshi rin appearance yay. fluff

wc 4.1k

The ride back to the academy dorms was uneventful, save for the occasional celebratory chatter from the boys' team. You had tagged along on their bus after the match—what? Belonging to the female Re Al team, how could they possibly refuse their up and coming female striker?

Seated a few rows ahead of you, Sae kept his usual quiet, earbuds in and his focus elsewhere.

Your phone buzzed relentlessly in your pocket. Notifications piled up, missed calls and texts flashing one after another. You tried to ignore it, brushing it off as hopefully post-game excitement and congratulatory messages to be passed to Sae for those that couldn’t reach him. But once the bus pulled into the academy grounds, the increasing persistence became impossible to overlook.

Everyone got off the bus, leaving you and Sae to walking side-by-side homeward to the dorms. Sae barely spared you a glance as you sighed and pulled your phone out, scrolling through the chaos. The screen lit up with an endless flood of notifications—mentions, retweets, likes—your feed practically bursting at the seams.

It didn’t take long for the stunt you pulled to spread like wildfire. With cameras and the media stationed all over the stadium, both you and him in your little world had been immortalized from all possible perspectives.

X (or twt?) was most especially on fire.

“Did y’all see the way she just touched his hair? 😭” “Japan’s prodigies or Spain’s new power couple?” “The power she holds. I’m in shambles. Goodbye.” “#Hair goalz” “Sae is so real, I mean, if I were to be sweating with people watching, I’d want to look my best” “I dunno if I wanna be him or her” “Guys, may I remind you all that these are 14 year olds??”—

You scrolled further, only to be greeted by memes that sent a fresh wave of horror washing over you. Screenshots of Sae’s faintly pink ears were captioned with things like, “Bros blush is heard around the world” and “BREAKING NEWS: Japan’s prodigy caught slipping.”

Your personal favorite (if you could call it that) was a photo of you brushing back his bangs, captioned:

“Y/N L/N, certified hairdresser for future world cup winner LMFAOOOO”

“Ugh,” you groaned, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Why do they have to make memes out of everything?”

Sae’s gaze flicked to your phone for a second before he returned his attention to the road ahead. “You’re surprised?”

You sighed, shoving the phone into your pocket. “No, but I can’t believe they got that angle.”

“They got every angle,” Sae replied dryly, his tone as flat as ever.

Your steps slowed as you neared the dorms. You pulled out your phone again, scrolling through the messages until you found one that made your blood run cold.

You paled.

Among the sea of notifications was one from your mother. Her text was simple yet loaded:

Mom: “Call me. Now.”

All thoughts of internet chaos evaporated as you stared at your mother’s menacing message. The bold lettering glared ominously at you through the screen, carrying more weight than it had any right to.

You groaned, slumping against Sae’s side with all the subtlety of a boulder rolling downhill. His body stiffened at the sudden contact, and his eyes darted toward you, a flicker of annoyance crossing his usually impassive face.

How had she even managed to make two words sound so menacing? “How did she even make it bold?” you muttered under your breath, staring at the text like it might explain itself. You held the phone up for emphasis, and for your companion to see. “Where did she get the bold font? Why is it in bold?” You cried.

He sighed, his lips pressed into a thin line of annoyance. “Maybe she just wants you to call her.”

“No kidding, genius,” you shot back, glaring at him for his unhelpfulness. “But it’s scary when it’s in the bold font.”

Sae rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath about your overreaction before leaning just far enough to escape your weight. “Just call her already.”

You groaned again, dragging yourself upright and glaring at your phone one last time. “If I don’t survive this call, tell her it was because of the bold font.”

Sae’s expression didn’t budge, but you caught the faintest hint of amusement in his eyes. “I’ll send flowers to your funeral.”

You shot him a glare, “very funny.”

Resigning yourself to your fate, you tapped the call button and braced for impact. The line barely rang twice before your mother’s voice burst through.

“You’re too young for this nonsense!” she started, her tone a mix of exasperation and concern. “You went to Spain to play football, not to… to… canoodle!! Do you know how many relatives have called me asking what’s going on between the two of you?!”

You couldn’t hold back a laugh at her tone, though you quickly tried to stifle it, but upon realizing what she just said, your face heated up.

“It wasn’t like that!” you protested.

“Then why does it look like that?!” she snapped back.

You groaned, running a hand down your face. “It’s just the media blowing things out of proportion. Sae and I are just friends.”

Friends. The word tasted bitter, foreign, almost hollow when it came to you. But were you guys really? It didn't quite fit the shape of what your relationship had become. It didn’t feel right—not with the way he always lingered just a little too long by your side, or the way your heart skipped at his smallest actions. Hearing the word friends, Sae would be lying if he said he didn't so much as feel an undeniable pang in his chest.

Neither of you said anything more, or lack-thereof, though. The moment passed like a fleeting shadow.

“Good,” she said, but her tone didn’t soften. “Now go find him. He’s not getting out of this.”

“MOM!” you exclaimed, your voice shooting up an octave in sheer disbelief.

“You’re in it together. If you’re getting scolded, so is he. That’s how teamwork works.”

“I don’t think that’s how teamwork works.”

“Don’t argue with me,” she snapped through gritted teeth. “Go find him. Now.”

You stared at your phone, utterly baffled, before slumping with an exasperated groan. “How does she do that?” you muttered.

Sae, who had been observing your side of the conversation with mild interest, raised an eyebrow when you lowered the phone.

“Well?” he asked, his voice calm but laced with curiosity. “Do what?”

“She sounds bold-lettered again,” you complained, gesturing dramatically at the phone. “Like, how does she make it sound like that? Bold and threatening all at once? Is this a skill all mothers have?”

“Maybe you should just listen to her,” Sae deadpanned.

You glared at him, jabbing a finger in his direction. “She wants—”

Just then, the unthinkable happened. Your mother, seemingly defying all odds and cellphones, suddenly went on speaker without warning, her voice ringing out loud and clear.

“I can hear him, let me talk to him now!” She demanded, the exclamation marks practically visible in her tone. “NOW!”

“—to yell at you too.”

You froze, and he blinked, looking at the device in your hand, utterly unfazed. “You know,” Sae began, his voice dripping with sarcastic sweetness, “I think this is a good time for me to leave.”

You turned to glare at him, pulling him back toward you with a surprising amount of force, making him stumble slightly.

“Get back here!” you hissed, your hand still gripping his arm as he tried to step away. “You’re not leaving me to face her alone!”

Sae, who had been halfway through his dorm, sighed. “You’re not exactly giving me much of a choice.”

But you weren’t about to let him off the hook that easily. With a determination, you pulled him back outside the room, holding the phone between the two of you as your mother’s voice filled the space.

“You both are in so much trouble!” Your mother practically shouted from the phone, her frustration evident. “I should’ve known something was going on when I saw the media coverage. I’m not having my kids make headlines for this!”

Sae, who had remained unfazed so far, leaned casually against the wall, his gaze fixed on you with an unreadable expression. “I didn’t make headlines. That’s all on you,” he teased lightly.

You blinked at him, caught off guard by his response. "What the hell do you mean? You literally walked toward me with a fucking spotlight on your head!" 

“WATCH THAT TONGUE—I’m not done with this nonsense!”

You shot him a warning look, silently begging him not to make it worse. But that only seemed to entertain him more.

“Look, I get it,” you said, speaking directly into the phone, trying to regain some control of the situation. “It’s not a big deal, okay? Like I said, it’s just the media blowing things out of proportion.”

“I don’t care about the media! I care about you two being sensible!” your mother’s voice cracked a little, clearly not impressed by your attempt to defuse the situation. “Now, Sae, you better not be leading my child astray. I want you both to keep your heads in the game.”

Without a word, you shoved the phone toward Sae, who had barely reacted to the situation. He shot you a look, you mouthed: ‘she’s talking to you’. You gestured dramatically at ‘you’. 

He stared at the device like it was an inconvenience, but eventually took it, his usual indifference in place. 

You were both just standing there, patiently, albeit strained, waiting in silence for the next round of scolding from your mother when a new, unmistakable voice entered the boxing ring somewhere in the background.

You both froze. Sae nearly dropped the phone, his grip faltering. You couldn't help but snicker at the rare look on his face. The last thing you expected was to hear that sweet but dangerously knowing voice—his mother, unmistakably. That sweet but unnerving voice was enough to snap him out of whatever bravado he'd been putting on. He looked at the phone as though it might bite him.

“Hi, Mrs. L/n, is my son on the line? I’d like to talk to him,” she said again, though the distance made it sound muffled, like she was halfway across the room.

Sae had managed to escape his parents’ wrath for a while, but that was about to change, and you couldn’t help but feel a tiny bit victorious.

His brow furrowed, unable to mask his surprise. Sae ran a hand through his hair with a resigned sigh, clearly not surprised by the turn of events. "Of course," he muttered under his breath, the weight of it all sinking in. "My family would have contacted yours the moment they caught wind of whatever the hell the two of us were doing in Spain."

You raised an eyebrow at his comment, crossing your arms with a knowing smile. "Oh, so you knew this was coming?"

He looked at you with a dry smirk. "I mean, it's not like we were exactly being subtle, huh?" he added, his usual smugness creeping back into his tone. "It wasn’t my fault you decided to get all touchy in front of the cameras."

You glared at him with all your might, but your argument died on your tongue, clearly defeated. "Unbelievable," you muttered.

The phone crackled slightly, and then his mother’s voice came through.

"Hello?"

The both of you stayed silent, catching each other's staring before you took the liberty to answer. "Hello?" you greeted, your voice slightly uncertain.

"Ah, Y/n, so sorry for the sudden intrusion," Sae’s mother chimed in, her voice full of sweetness, but you knew carried a weight behind it. Locked and loaded, reserved to open fire only at Sae. "My son is always so unpredictable… He’s not giving you any trouble, is he?"

You couldn’t help but grin. “No trouble at all, I promise.”

There was a soft chuckle on the other end, but it didn’t sound entirely convinced. “Well, I do hope he’s keeping you focused. I did hear something about hairdressers…” She trailed off, clearly referencing the media frenzy from earlier. “I don’t know what’s going on, but I trust you to take care of each other.”

You blinked in surprise. The sudden shift from the playful teasing to genuine concern caught you off guard, but you did your best to play it cool. “We’re doing fine, really.”

“I’m sure you are, darling,” she continued, her voice warm, but there was an undeniable edge to it. “Just remember to keep your heads in the game. I want you both succeeding, not making headlines for nonsense.”

You glanced at Sae, who was clearly pretending not to listen. “Don’t worry, we’re focusing on football,” you reassured, a soft smile pulling at your lips.

“Well, that’s all I wanted to hear,” she said, her tone finally lightening up. "From you, atleast."

You raised an eyebrow at her words, catching the subtle jab aimed at Sae. You could feel his irritation radiating off him, though his face betrayed nothing more than a slight twitch of his brow. Smirking, you mouthed; 'you’re not off the hook yet.'

Then her voice came through the speaker again, calm but firm. “Now, darling, be a dear and hand the phone over to Sae. I’d like a word with my son.”

Your grin widened. “Of course,” you said sweetly, holding the phone out to him. “It’s for you.”

Sae sighed, his shoulders stiffening slightly. “Tell her I’m not here,” he muttered.

“Pretty sure she already knows you are,” you replied, shaking the phone for emphasis. “No escaping this one, superstar.”

He shot you one last glare. "You’re not gonna let me forget this, are you?"

“Not a chance,” you replied, your grin widening as he took the phone from your hands. “But hey, at least now we know what happens when you get too cocky.”

Sae let out an exaggerated sigh, clearly resigned to all this. His usual deflection didn’t work as well this time.

He lifted the phone to his ear, "Hi, Mom." He muttered, trying his best to sound nonchalant, but his posture had stiffened. He wasn’t fooling anyone.

“Don’t you “Hi, Mom” me, ITOSHI SAE!” his mother’s voice finally snapped. “What’s this nonsense I’m hearing about you two? Running around Spain causing a spectacle for the media, playing to their little games!?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle, shaking your head slightly. “So she’s got the bold font superpower too, huh?” you muttered mostly to yourself, but loud enough for also him to hear. The sheer power of that 'ITOSHI SAE' was like a force of nature.

His teal eyes hardened, shooting you a glare, his discomfort obvious, but you could tell he wasn’t used to this level of public embarrassment. His mother had always been a force to be reckoned with, but now she was using her bold-letter power on him too. “It’s not like that,” he started, his voice dry and flat. “We’re just—”

“No excuses, Sae. I’ve seen the footage. I’ve heard the rumors. You’re not going to get away with this one. Not while I’m around,” she interrupted, her voice unyielding.

You leaned against the doorframe, biting back a laugh as his mother’s voice carried through the speaker, scolding him in rapid-fire Japanese. Sae’s expression didn’t change, though his lips pressed into a thin line.

After a few minutes, he handed the phone back to you. “She’s done,” he said flatly, though the faint pink tint to his ears gave him away.

You took the phone, grinning. “She gave you the ‘focus on football, not nonsense’ speech, didn’t she?”

“She’s very thorough,” he deadpanned.

“Welcome to my world,” you said with a shrug, bringing your phone on speaker to bid your farewells.

Your mother’s voice came through the speaker, her tone still a little sharp. “Sae, this better not happen again…”

Sae braced himself, his expression turning completely blank as he muttered a weak greeting. “Hi, Ma'am.” He visibly straightened, his usual confidence momentarily chipped away by the dual maternal interrogation.

“Sae, behave,” his mother chimed in. “And don’t get each other in trouble. I’m trusting you to be the responsible one here. You should know better.”

Your mother didn’t miss a beat, her tone taking on a teasing edge. “Exactly. Boys are supposed to protect, not cause chaos. How could you let this happen under your watch, Sae?”

You shot a glance at Sae, his face betrayed none of the usual confidence, just a tense concentration.

You bit the inside of your cheek, suppressing a grin as Sae’s blank expression barely wavered, save for the faintest furrow of his brow. His mother’s voice, now layered with a hint of amusement, added to the jab. “Honestly, Sae, I thought you were more sensible than this. I expected better from you.”

You could almost hear the corners of your mother’s mouth curve up. “Oh, don’t worry, I’m taking care of it,” she replied with a playful note. “You know how it is with these kids—they think they’re invincible.”

Despite the constant jabs, you knew Sae wasn’t the type to let anything truly reckless happen—not to you, not to himself. If anything, he was the one who kept everything grounded, often steering things back on track. Yet here he was, taking the brunt of both mothers’ wrath, enduring their playful scolding like the stoic shield he was.

Sae sighed quietly, and you nudged his arm gently. “Hey, just look at it this way—you’re their golden boy, hm?”

Sae's teal eyes rolled a sideways glance at you, his lips twitching as though he wanted to say something but thought better of it.

"Well, Y/n.." His mother trailed off. “Please make sure my son is behaving himself. He has a tendency to… push boundaries when he thinks no one’s watching.”

You blinked, startled by the sudden turn of the conversation. “Uh, I’ll do my best?” you replied hesitantly, shooting a glance at Sae, who looked thoroughly unimpressed.

“And one more thing,” she added, her voice firm but tinged with an almost playful seriousness. “Don’t let him get away with anything when it comes to you. Don’t let him have his way, understand?”

Your face flushed instantly, the implication of her words hitting you like a freight train. “W-Wait, what—”

Sae, who had been silently enduring the conversation, finally turned his head sharply toward the phone, his ears turning a suspicious shade of pink. “Mom.” He interjected, his tone low and warning.

But his mother was undeterred. “Oh, don’t ‘Mom’ me, Sae! I mean it." Then, his mother released a sigh. “It’s just.. the two of you are out there in Spain... no one else can keep an eye on you. Be rational, okay? Don’t give us a reason to fly over there and check on you myself.”

You couldn’t help but stifle a laugh, despite the heat still burning your cheeks. “Noted, Mrs. Itoshi. I’ll keep that in mind.”

Sae groaned, dragging a hand down his face. “Are you done?”

“For now,” she replied smoothly. “I’m just making sure things are in order. Y/n, thank you for putting up with him. You’re a saint.”

Sae muttered something under his breath, “unbelievable.”

You snorted. “Of course, Mrs. Itoshi. Someone's gotta bash him in his head from time to time.”

Even with his mom’s playful but pointed implication, you knew better. Sae would never do anything out of line with you, nor anything that would make you uncomfortable. For all his aloofness and sharp edges, he’d always been careful around you—attentive in his own way.

The thought softened the embarrassment lingering in your chest, and you glanced at him, his hand still dragging down his face as he muttered under his breath despite his irritation.

“But don’t think I won’t call again if I hear more nonsense.”

You couldn’t help but chuckle under your breath at the thought, but the tension didn’t seem to break on Sae’s side. He eventually muttered, “We'll do our best, Mom, Mrs. L/n.”

“Good,” Sae’s mom said firmly, a slight note of relief in her voice. There was a faint shuffling sound on the other end, like the phone being passed, until your mother’s voice entered the conversation. “I trust you’ll both be on your best behavior.”

You chimed in quickly, trying to get the conversation over with. “Don’t worry, Mrs. Itoshi, Mom. We’ll keep things in check.”

Your mother let out a hum of approval. “Good. And remember, we’re just a call away if you need a reminder.”

“Duly noted,” you replied with a nervous laugh, glancing at Sae.

With that, the call ended, leaving you standing there, Sae released an exasperated sigh and immediately dropped his shoulders in relief. You couldn’t help but laugh.

Sae shook his head, stepping back into his room. “Next time, leave me out of it.”

You smiled. Despite the scolding and the embarrassment, there was something undeniably comforting about moments like these—a reminder of home, even when you were miles away.

You were about to turn and leave when something inside you decided it wasn’t time to bail just yet. You stepped forward, casually walking right past Sae into his room before the door could fully shut behind him.

Sae froze, slitted eyes widening in surprise. “What—”

You shrugged again, a mischievous smile playing on your lips. “No reason. Just hanging around.”

Before he could protest, a sudden ring cut through the air. The sound was familiar, but louder than usual. You glanced at Sae, eyebrow raised, but his face shifted quickly from surprise to annoyance as he grabbed his phone.

“Who’s calling you now?” you asked, leaning back against his desk as he answered the phone.

At first, Sae’s face was unreadable, but then his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. You could hear his voice, but just barely. You noticed and gave a slight smirk. “Guess it’s your turn for Rin’s wrath.”

Rin. The name was almost like a curse for Sae—he loved his brother, of course, but when it came to their sibling dynamics, it was always a bit chaotic.

You couldn’t help but lean in, curiosity piqued. Expecting his mom to be back on the line, you were caught off guard when Sae’s little brother spoke up from the other end.

“Hey, nii-chan,” Rin’s voice sounded loud and clear, filled with that usual mix of child-like wonder and boyish innocence. “I’m hearing things from the media again... What’s going on with you and Y/n? You two are seriously causing a stir.”

Sae’s face flushed even more, a mix of frustration and, if you were reading him right, embarrassment.

“You’re already hearing about that, huh?” he muttered, rubbing his temples.

“Of course I am!” Rin responded, completely unbothered by his brother’s apparent discomfort. “But seriously, are you two that close now? Should I be worried?”

You almost snorted at the lighthearted tone in Rin’s voice. It was all teasing, but there was an undertone of real curiosity—or maybe just a little bit of jealousy? You couldn’t help but smirk at how Rin always found ways to poke fun at Sae, no matter how far apart they were.

Sae didn’t answer right away, his eyes meeting yours for a brief moment as he sighed. “Just... keep your nose out of this, Rin.”

You snickered at his reaction, walking closer and casually sitting down on Sae’s bed, still enjoying his discomfort. You decided to butt in, taking hold of his phone.

“Hey, Rin—”

“Y/n! What in the world are you two doing over there?” Rin’s voice came through sharp.

“Uh, playing football?” you tried, his sudden change in tone was something you weren’t expecting, but has anything ever went your way ever for the past day?

“You know what I mean,” he whined. “I can’t go five minutes without seeing some clip of you two looking… weird! People are saying stuff!”

You leaned back against the headboard, glancing at Sae, who had now propped himself up on one elbow on his desk, silently listening. “Rin, it’s nothing. The media’s just exaggerating.”

“Oh, really? Because it doesn’t look like ‘nothing’ when she’s running her hands through your hair, Sae,” Rin shot, his voice cracking slightly at the end.

Sae, finally engaging, sat up and snatched his phone from your hand, holding it to his ear. “What’s your problem, Rin?” he asked bluntly.

“My problem?” Rin’s voice grew louder. “My problem is that you two are over there acting all… close, while I’m stuck here dealing with everything alone!”

Silence stretched between them.

Finally, Sae sighed. “You’re being dramatic. It’s not like we’re having fun. We’re working, just like you.”

“You don’t get it,” Rin muttered, his voice quieter now. “You both left. And it’s… it’s hard seeing you two together there. Without me.”

Your chest ached at his words. Taking the phone back, you softened your tone. “Rin, we miss you, too. It’s hard for us here, you know that. But we’ll come back—this isn’t forever.”

“Yeah,” he muttered, though it sounded half-hearted. “Just… stop making headlines, okay? It’s embarrassing.”

You laughed, and even Sae’s lips twitched upward. “No promises,” you teased, earning a low groan from Rin before he hung up.

As you set the phone aside, Sae leaned back against his desk-chair, arms crossed. “He’s such a pain,” he muttered, though there was a faint fondness in his voice.

“Yeah,” you agreed softly. “But he’s our pain.”

“Whatever, I want you out of my room before dinner time. I have to take a shower.”

“Bleh!”

“💢💢💢”

* * *

© 2025 mreowsu

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Meet the Family 7

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your boss needs a last-minute favour for the holidays.(petite!reader)

Characters: Lloyd Hansen

Note: my gut said go full self-indulgent so I did.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Your phone lights up again. You’ve already waited too long. You can’t avoid this any longer and in that moment, avoiding Lloyd’s family is a bigger priority. You get up, thankful to be away from Lloyd’s wandering touches, and excuse yourself to take the call. You don’t miss the scathing judgment from Gwenyth, but you don’t care either. 

You go out into the hallway and try to keep your voice down. There’s enough chatter that you’re not entirely concerned. You answer and close your eyes. 

“Hi, mom--” 

“Where are you?” She demands. “You said you would be here. I’ve been waiting. Calling. Your sister too. We’re all worried--” 

“Mom, I’m sorry. I missed my flight--” 

“Oh, yes, I couldn’t put that together,” she snaps. 

“I’m sorry, mom. Really. I know—I messed up again. I really wanted to come but that was the only flight--” 

“It’s not that you couldn’t make it, it’s that you couldn’t even let me know! I’ve been in shambles, thinking the worst. I check the flights to make sure there were no crashes, I’ve been looking through news reports.” 

She starts to devolve into breathy sobs. You feel horrible. Your guilt overwhelms your self-pity. Suddenly being stuck with these rich snobs isn’t so bad. Your mother has spent half her Christmas worrying over you, and know her, you wouldn’t be surprised if she actually tore some hair out. 

“I know I should have called. I’m sorry, I’ve been trying to figure something out,” you lie, poorly since the defeat is in your voice.  

Your mother has always been your kryptonite. She’s not cruel like Gwenyth, but her disappointment is devastating and all too easy to earn. She just wants the best for you but you’ve never managed the best. 

“So you can come?” She sniffles. 

“Um, not today, but I’m looking at tomorrow.” Another frail falsehood. “I promise, I’ll let you know--” 

“Sweet pea,” Lloyd’s voice undercuts yours and you cringe. You put your finger up and turn to signal him to hush. 

“Yeah, mom, I’ll try for tomorrow and if I can’t get there--” 

“Mom?” Lloyd echoes with a smirk. 

You shake your head. 

“Who’s that?” Your mom asks. 

You grimace and glare daggers at Lloyd as he comes closer. You outstretch your arm and put your hand just below his chest.  

“Mom, it’s just--” 

Lloyd easily reaches past your resistance and swipes the phone. He puts it on speaker with a tap of his thumb as you lunge at him. He grabs your arm and forces it up. Nearly dangly you from it as you lash with the other. 

“Is this mom?” Lloyd asks brightly. 

“Um, hello? Who is this? Where’s my daughter?” 

“Mom, I’m here. Lloyd, give me the phone back--” 

“Boo, what’s going on?” She asks. 

Lloyd looks at you with a mischievous grin and mouths ‘boo?’ with a tweaked brow. You shake your head again and plead. 

“Mom, it’s nothing--” 

“I think I spoiled the surprise,” he speaks over you. “We’re going to be coming tomorrow.” 

“We?” She ekes out, you hear the worry mounting in her voice. 

“Please don’t be mad at Pixie, she was just being a good girlfriend. We stopped by my family’s house and oh boy, the snow we got up this way,” he tuts in a very convincing monologue. You’re stunned into silence at his act. He sounds like a decent person but you know better. “And you know, everything was so hectic as we tried to dig out that it just got all ahead of us.” 

“I’m sorry, who are you? Boo?” She asks desperately. 

“Mom--” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, I should’ve started with that. I’m Lloyd. Her boyfriend.” 

“Boyfriend?” You mother breathes, “boo?” 

“Yeah, mom, er,” you wrench your hand free and smack Lloyd’s arm. “He’s um, going to come with me, so uh--” 

“I’ll be there, both of us, with bows on,” he promises. “Please, allow me to apologise from the bottom of my heart for keeping your daughter from you. You can’t blame her. It was entirely me. I am not a morning person and she can only do so much to keep me in line.” 

You grit your teeth as you squint at him. How does he sound like such a dweeb? Well, looking at him with that mustache, he kinda is one. 

“Oh, well, that’s lovely, very nice,” your mother coos, “I can let everyone else know. Oh, boo, you could’ve told us--” 

“Again, that’s on me,” Lloyd preens, “I thought it would be a nice surprise.” 

“It is, it is,” she assures. “Oh, it will be so nice to meet you. We’ve never met any of Pixie’s men.” 

“Mom,” you groan. 

“We never really thought she had any. She’s always been so focused on work, and before that, it was school--” 

“Mom,” you jab Lloyd’s ribs as he smirks bigger and bigger, then snatch the phone from him. “Promise, we’ll get there but uh... gotta go. Love you.” 

“Love you too, boo. Oh and it was nice meeting you, um--” 

“Lloyd,” he supplies and sticks out his tongue. 

“Bye.” You hit end and put your phone in your pocket.  

Your agitation peaks and you can’t help from shoving Lloyd. It barely affects him which annoys you more. God, he is such a little—big turd. 

“Why would you do that?” 

“What? I just did you a favour.” 

“A favour? You just dragged my family into this bullshit--” 

“Well, hate to break it to you, boo,” he emphasizes the last word as he grabs your hands and pulls them away from his stomach, “but they’re going to have be. We promised mine a white wedding.” 

“You are so--” 

“So...?” He prompts. 

“Urgh.” 

“Oh, don’t be so grumpy. It’s a ticket out of this place. Literally. So you just let me know where I need to book tickets and I’ll pull a few strings--” 

“Strings? You couldn’t pull these earlier?” 

“On Christmas Day? Please, even I can’t do that but the day after Christmas, my guy’s getting into the punch right now, he’ll be just tipsy enough--” 

“You are torturing me,” you accuse. 

“I really can’t deny that,” he snickers as he lets you go. “Now tell me where I’m booking these tickets too and I’ll hop right on that...” he looks you up and down and bites his lip, “as much as I’d like to hop on something else.” 

You huff, “Toronto.” 

He twitches, “Toronto? As in... Canada?” 

You nod and roll your eyes. 

“Wait, Pixie puff, you’re Canadian?” 

You tilt your head and look at him. You shrug, “what does that matter?” 

“Well, I thought you type were supposed to be nice, first of all.” 

“Just make the call,” you sneer and cross your arms. “You’ve already mangled this Christmas, may as well put it out of its misery.” 

“Why don’t you do the same for me, huh? I’m suffering, Pix. Just give it a squeeze” he gets closer. You flutter your lashes then he wiggles his hips. “These pants are killing my circulation. I told you, I don’t wear underroos.” 

“Back up before I lose it,” you warn. 

“I’m close to losing it too, baby face,” he groans. 

“Make. The. Call.” You demand. “And I’ll happily break the news to your dear sweet mother that we need to go get ready to fly out.” 

His expression sobers and he exhales heavily, “Pix,” he utters quietly, “sometimes, you’re scary. Don’t... don’t piss off mom too much. Please.” 

“Book the tickets, honey poo,” you chime in an acidic tone, “and I’ll make sure mommy’s not crying into her champagne.”  

You poke centre of his chest and bounce on your heels before you spin away. Your mother’s disappointment might be like arsenic but Gwenyth’s is the exact antidote you need. 

❄️

“I know a girl in Toronto. A few actually,” Lloyd says over the steering wheel. He’s tasked with driving back to the hotel since you imposed sobriety on him as punishment for the day. “Strange, you’re nothing like them.” 

“I don’t care,” you grumble. 

“Ugh, your wheel is too low,” he mutters as he stops at a red and tries to adjust it. You don’t respond.  

You just want to lay down. Your head is pounding from the lack of sleep and Lloyd managed to book you an early morning flight which will curtail any meaningful sleep. You close your eyes and ignore his fussing. 

Finally, he steps on the gas. “So, Canada, you grew up with those geese, huh? Explains the bite--” 

“What?” 

“I read somewhere they have teeth--” 

“Why the heck are you moaning about geese for?” 

“I hear it now. Couldn’t place it before. I thought Minnesota or somewhere but when you’re angry, you get this twang--” 

“Be quiet,” you let your head drop back again. “I’m getting a migraine.” 

“Aw, baby,” he coos. 

“Lloyd,” you growl. 

“I can make it better. I read somewhere that you can massage it better. Oh, and you know, orgasms--” 

“You read a lot of nonsense for someone who I never see reading,” you drone and prop your elbow against the door to cradle your head. 

“There’s a wealth of information on the internet when you’re not scrolling porn,” he chuckles. You let out a disgusted noise. “Don’t worry, pixie. I’m committed to this. Me and you, we’re going to get our piece of the pie and make off like bandits.

"So you let me play the loyal husband. I’ll get you all spread out and loose, I’ll rub your head and your shoulders, then my hands might wander a little bit more...” he hums. “I’ll touch the peach a bit, I just can’t help myself, but I think you’ll be ready by then.” 

“Don’t you dare touch me,” you snarl. 

“Ah, come on, flying is so stressful and after the day we had, we both need that release--” 

“How many more times do I need to tell you to stop?” 

“And how many times do I need to tell you I won’t? It’s fate now, Pixie.” He clucks and slowly turns. You lift your head and look up at the hotel sign. “Hey, if you like the long game, I can go along with it. Make it hurt so good.” 

“Do you ever think of anything else?” 

“There’s a constant undercurrent that never really leaves my mind,” he shrugs as he parks. “But I’m great at multitasking.” 

You grumble and shake your head. It sends a throbbing pulse through your skull. You undo your seatbelt and drag yourself out of the car. As the door shuts, you wince. Then Lloyd’s and you feel the nausea start to crawl through your guts. The lack of sleep, the stress, the alcohol, it’s a perfect recipe for a deadly migraine. 

You do your best to push through as you make your way up to the room silently. Lloyd is not so quiet. He’s rambling about something; a shirt? You don’t know and you don’t care.  

You take out the room and enter the hotel suite. You drop the key and your purse and shed your coat. You hang it on the hook on the back of the door and tread further in. You don’t stop until you get to the bed. You ease yourself down and bury your face in the pillow. 

“Pixie,” Lloyd’s worry puts you on edge. You raise your hand and wave him off without lifting your head. “You need some Advil?” 

You shoo him again with your fingers. You popped some with your last glass of wine. You probably should’ve opted for water. 

Your alarm is set. You will have to awake before the sky shifts that slightly lighter shade of grey and try again. You know better than to trust Lloyd, but you’re putting some faith in him to get you home. 

You feel the bed dip behind you and Lloyd’s mutters and grumbles creep into your ears. You move the pillow over your head and hug it against your ear. You tune him out as you urge your mind down to the depths. In your bouts, there is no relief, but sleep can at least dull the agony. 

Your brain turns to sludge as the steady pounding evens out to a tempo. You drift into the muddy no man’s land between waking and otherwise. You’re conscious enough to feel the pain, but you're detached enough to bear it. 

Time crumbles around like sand in a glass. Your mind swirls with churning recreations of the day behind you. Most of them fractured and nonsensical. Voices without words, faces without names. 

A shiver washes through you as a tickle flutters down the back of your thighs. The cool sensation flows over your skin. You shudder and cling to that tenuous state of dissociation. A jolt forces you out of the void. 

You roll over and throw your arm out. It bounces off of Lloyd’s shoulder as your eyes slit. You yipe as you find him tugging at your pants. You kick and amplify the siren whining in your head. 

“What are you doing?” You rasp as you flail at him. 

“Relax, pixie stick, I’m just trying to help you relax. You can’t sleep in this,” he peels your pants down your legs and you swat at him again. 

You look down and find your sweater gone, only your bra to conceal your chest. You quickly hide behind folded arms. “What the hell?” 

“Damn, Pix, you never said you had a dump truck he untangles the fabric from your ankles. 

You whimper and push yourself up on your elbows, you bareness secondary to your irritation. “Get way from me.” 

“Just let me rub you down,” he begs as he runs his hands up your calves. “Promise, I’ll be a good boy. I kept my dick strapped down, baby.” 

Your eyes flit down unthinkingly. He’s in only his briefs. The rest of him is exposed; his fur-trimmed chest, his thick but firm stomach, and his muscled legs. You look him in the face and he winks. “Made you look.” 

“Stop, please,” you flick your fingers at him. 

“You got me struggling,” he begs as his hands trail further up and he kneads your thighs. “I’m hurting like prom night and you been grinding on me in a tack ballgown all night--” 

“Ew--” 

“It’ll make you feel better--” 

You catch his fingers as he traces the edges of your underwear. As you curl up, the weight of your head thunks own at the base. Urgh. 

“No--” 

“I’m just going to rub you down like a good boy. That’s it,” pushes against your hands. “You can even keep these on.” He runs his thumbs along the front of your panties. “They look fucking delicious anyway.” 

“Lloyd.” 

“Shhh,” he hushes you and shoves your hands off of his. 

Before you can stop him, he straddles you. He puts his large hands around your skull and you whine. H works his fingers into your scalp as he continues to shush you and presses his thumbs to your temples. The warmth of his tough makes you sigh. You hate that it feels good. 

“Just like this, baby,” he purrs as he keeps you pinned under him. “Just relax.” 

Your eyes roll back as you shatter to pieces. In this state, you have no strength to fight him. Besides, why should you stop him when it feels so amazing? 

[lailols]

TXT as popular tropes!

Soobin: Childhood Best Friends to Lovers

- maybe your moms were close friends so they decided to make their kids of similar ages friends too

- inviting you to each others houses for play dates and cooing over you

- naturally, y’all grew close

- going through life together and growing into the people you are today without losing the other

- genuinely, you know each other so well :(

- having PEAK communication because neither of you are letting small disagreements get between y��all

- as you get older and remain close, your parents start subtly (LOUDLY) shipping you guys

- bin’s family calling you guys a couple because wherever one is, the other isn’t far

- your family definitely calls the other if one’s not answering

- neither of you really put much thought into it, but knew that when imagining your future the other was there

- you both dated other people but never really felt a spark

- the confession comes randomly, just as you guys are talking about your experience with love

- maybe it was always in the back of your mind how you felt

- when it happened, everything felt right

- like every moment in your life was leading to this

“I love you”

“I love you too”

“No, I mean I love you”

“Yeah, I love you too”

- then you make out :D

Yeonjun: Rivals to Lovers

- you’re both gunning for captain of the dance team

- it’s for fun, but you’re both so damn competitive and passionate about what you do that it’s really not

- making playful jabs at each other that never cross boundaries but pushes the other to do better

- truly creating higher expectations for the rest of the team

- in spite of the competition, you both help each other out

- staying later to practice together, watching the others routine to critique, or making choreographies together

- the complements you share feel different because they go beyond the usual “you’re so cool” or “you dance so well”

- it’s deeper than that because you both understand the drive behind what you do

- the desire to be on stage and perform

- you confide in each other because you never fear the other seeing you as less of a dancer or a person

- you also make sure he’s taking care of himself, knowing his habit of prioritizing dance over his well being

- (threats are made to make sure he’s healthy)

- the team definitely placed bets on who they thought would be captain and you guys started your own bet

“Congrats, captain”

“Thanks, co-captain”

“So, what do you want?”

“I want you to treat me to dinner”

“And why would I do that?”

“Because I’m paying for the next one”

Beomgyu: Musician x Muse

- the real loser lover yearners

- every song you write comes back to the other

- but you never tell :(

- you’re one of his biggest motivations

- you hang out once and BOOM three new song ideas

- he’ll hold little concerts for you

- playing songs he’d never share with anyone else

- you def have writing dates

- spontaneously breaking out into song with each other

- it’s like a game

- he “mocks” the songs you write (like he does with jun) but that’s just because you write bangers and there can only be room for one super talented friend in the room

- you’re on the front row for any set he has

- he winks at you while on stage and every around you screams thinking it’s for them but you know

- alternatively, he’s damn near on the stage from how close he is during your sets

- you want to sing? No Y’ALL are singing

- sometimes he’s louder than you even though he’s in the crowd and you have a WHOLE ASS MIC

- you guys cover each others song and it’s so :(

- like wdym the love of my life is singing a song i wrote ABOUT them :((

- the duet you guys release has everyone in shambles

- it’s a conversation between two people and honestly it’s the perfect way to confess

“This song is about someone special to me”

“Or, two special someones”

“It’s a conversation between them which is ironic because we’ve never really talked about it”

“But, you know, right?”

“I know”

Taehyun: Grumpy x Sunshine

- Tae isn’t a grump, he just doesn’t take bullshit

- add that to his generally “cold” exterior, and he’s sending a lot of people running for the hills

- which is exactly why no one can figure out how the literal embodiment of sunshine is his friend

- there is a difference between kind and nice, and you are definitely the latter

- you aren’t necessarily stepped on, but you take a lot more than you probably should

- you guys are basically polar opposites, so how do you fit so well together?

- it’s because you aren’t so different in the end

- in the comforts of your room, you allow each other to break

- to put aside the “characters” you play in the real world

- tae can smile and joke and laugh without having to deal with people gaping at the fact that he has “real” emotions

- you can complain and cry and yell without having people assume that the way you act is a lie

- in the comforts of these four walls, you guys become a mirror of the other

- it’s so sweet to have someone that you can just be completely human with

- no masks, no facades, no faking, just you

- in the beginning, most of your hangouts ended in one (or both) of you crying :(

- but now it’s normal for one of you to pull the other to your room to escape

- it eventually just turns into talking/gossip sessions

“So… how do you feel?”

“I feel like I want to take you out on a date”

“I’d like that”

Hueningkai: Best Friend’s Brother

- when you first saw kai, you’re pretty sure you died and went to heaven

- there’s no way an angel is opening the door to your gremlin of a friend’s house

- there’s no other explanation

- you guys literally just stand there for a good five minutes looking at each other before you’re so RUDELY interrupted

- after that, it’s sneaking glances at the other when you’re both in the same room

- it’s smiles and watching anime together cause no one else does

- kai finding any occasion to buy you a plushie of one character or another

- you suddenly being SO THIRSTY and having to go get water every hour on the dot and Kai just happens to do the same

- you guys get along so well :(

- so much pining between the two of you

- genuinely, your friend must feel like a third wheel even though you came to see HER

- Kai begging to crash your girl’s nights and being refused by everyone

- but then you’re back the next day because you “missed them” and since it’s not technically girls night, he can stay

- the way neither of you know the other’s feelings is so :(

- until his sister suddenly screams for one of you to confess and then storming out of the room

“So… about what she said…. Was it true?

“Yes, it’s okay if you don’t feel the same…“

“Of course, I feel the same! Have you seen yourself?”

————————-

I left Kai’s sister unnamed so you could be older/younger than him

I love txt so much :( I wish there was more writing for them

Please this is my first thing ever don’t be mean, I WILL cry

If you like it, let me know anything else you’d like to see :))

<3

[orbweaverspidergirl]

Chapter 3: i never doubt it at 4 am

summary: Orbweaver, Gotham's one and only spidergirl. A hero for only a year, she's easily recognizable from her brown spider suit, and six-eyed mask. But, without the mask, she's Nicole Lawson, the "unwanted" daughter of Bruce Wayne. She didn't mind it, not too much, but after the death of her mother and the exposure of her identity, her life is in shambles.

tw: slight yandere? it's only one line, and I'm not sure if someone would call it yandere, but I do think I'll take it too the platonic yandere spectrum. I do plan on increasing it, but it will not be hardcore.

Chapter 1 and Chapter 2

You’ve come to the conclusion that you dislike bringing vigilantes to where you live. Your house was a mess, and you were worried that they could easily see your address, but you suppose every nighttime hero knows Gotham by heart at this point. You were just really glad your mom had the night shift at the hospital tonight. 

“How you feeling, Hood?” You ask, carrying the bleeding out man into your living room. 

“Good as ever, Spidey.” He grunts, falling onto the couch. He landed on pillows piled up around the couch. “You sure as hell have a lot of these on here.” 

“My mom likes the aesthetic of it, says it looks pretty.” You smile under the mask and grab the first aid kit from on top of the fridge. Red Hood looks around the room, it’s tasteful, he decided. You had a fireplace in the middle, unlit, and there were photos of what he assumed was you and your mom. But there was something that made him look at you specifically, you looked so familiar to someone he knew.

“Eyes off the wall, Hood.” You’re in front of him now, and he’s sure you’re scowling. You throw the med kit at him, and he catches it quickly. “I’m sure you can patch yourself up.” You sound monotone, and he knows he fucked up when he sees you flipping down photos or turning them around on the wall. 

You were mad, understandably so. You knew that you took the man to your house, but you thought he would at least not look around! It’s like an unspoken rule of being a hero! You look at the man still on your couch, and you make sure there’s no blood on the floor. Your mom would actually kill you, and it would be your blood instead. You could feel her wrath from miles away, and you shiver. 

There’s a knock at your kitchen window, and you see a blue figure. “Nightwing…” You deflate, upset at the prospect of more of them coming into your living space. You debate whether or not you should let him in, but he is waving, and you would feel bad. You walk to the window and unlock it, damn your good conscience. 

“Dude, how the hell are you going to get into my window?” You hear Red Hood laughing in the background.

“Real smart of ya’, Nightwing!” Nightwing puts his foot through your window, obviously struggling, and you can’t help but laugh. 

He reaches an arm out for you to drag him in, “Spidey please,” he whines, and you give him a tug. You could do the funniest thing and just drop him, you think, but you decide against it, and pull him in. He almost trips over your sink, but you hold him up just in time. 

“You’re heavy as hell, bro.” He elbows you and Red Hood cackles in the background.

“You’re just as mean as him.” Nightwing glances over at the man on your couch and you just shrug. He walks over to the couch, and wallows over Red Hood. You can hear the two arguing, almost like siblings, and for a moment, you wish you were over there with them. Your phone rings, alerting the three of you. 

"Hey Spidey, your mom’s calling you.” Red Hood looks at your phone, a photo of the orange cat meme pops up, and he tosses it to you. “Nice photo, by the way.” You can feel him smirk under the mask and you flip him off.

Nightwing looks between the two of you, “Wait, what photo? Red, what photo?” You ignore him, answering your mom and walking into your room. 

 "Hey mom, you called?” You close the door behind and take off your mask. Your hair is frizzy, and you feel sticky and sweaty. 

 “Yeah, I just wanted to let you know I’m on my way home.” She doesn’t care to ask why you’re up so late, it’s practically the norm. You would stay up late for her as a kid, waiting for her to come home. You were always a mama’s girl. 

“Okay, I can start cooking something for you?” You put her on speaker and change out of the body suit into a ‘My Chemical Romance’ slide off shirt, and you put on a pair of old shorts. 

“Thank you, baby. I’ll be home soon.” You put your spider mask back on.

“Love you, mom.”

“Love you more.” The call ends and you leave your phone in the room. You slam your door closed to alert the heroes that you’re back. They look up at you like deer in headlights and you start to feel suspicious. 

“If any of you broke something, I’m kicking you both out.” You feel them analyze your clothes, but you go back into the kitchen and preheat the oven. 

“Someone had an angsty childhood.” You flip him off again.

“Says the one who speaks like they’d be a part of an emo-boy band.” Nightwing chuckles, shoving Red Hood.

“She got you there, man.” You can practically feel the glare being sent your way, and you laugh. This wasn’t so bad, you thought. They were annoying, sure, but you didn’t feel so lonely for once, and that was nice. 

Their temporary stay ended, and eventually the house was all to yourself, until your mom was home, of course. You laid on the couch, ripping off your mask and sighing in relief. You hated having to wear that thing for so long. You look at the and the memory of flipping the pictures of you and your mom came back. All of them were flipped, except for one, and you do a double take. It was a photo of you and your mom when you were younger. You were about six in the photo, and she was holding you close. There were bubbles flying around, and in the back, you could see a picnic table. You thought for sure you turned every photo around, so why wasn’t this one?

Dick and Jason stood on top of your house, and the night was quiet in Gotham, for once. The air, however, was tense. “You really think it’s her?” Dick asks, his voice strained with worry. 

“Yeah, you dipshit. I don’t randomly go around calling everyone my sister.” 

Dick frowns, “Well yeah, but Nicole? You think our Spidey is Nicole?” 

“I know she is! That photo is her and her mom! It couldn’t be anyone else, Dick!” Jason scorns, turning away from his brother. 

Dick tiredly groans, “Fuck.” He playfully lays his head on Jason’s shoulder. “What the hell are we going to do?” 

A/N: My inbox is open! I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Thanks for reading.