#it will be embarrassing but not unexpected if it flops

[evie-sturns]

mornings - Matt Sturniolo

summary: when your best friend matt sleeps over for the night, the last thing you expected was him waking up with a boner the next morning.

contains: nsfw, sub!matt, handjob, fluff, bestfriend!matt.

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10:32am

i stir in bed with a small groggy groan, wiping my eyes as i come to conciouseness.

my best friend matt had slept over last night, hes now lying next to me in bed, wearing a pink baby tee, and some pyjama pants.

i roll over in bed, my leg brushing against his. my hand flops lazily onto matts thigh.

a sharp gasp from matt fills the room. followed by frantic shuffling.

i slowly open my eyes, to see matt.

his pants are at his mid thighs, his shirt is bunched up around his small waist and his hand is wrapped firmly around his cock.

my eyes widen instantly, i sit up on my elbows as my jaw goes slack.

"matt!?" i exclaim,

he frantically tugs up his pyjama pants, a grimace on his face.

his cheeks are now a deep red as he lets out a small whine of embarrasment.

he's still visibly hard through the thin fabric of his pyjama pants after being interrupted...

"i am- so sorry-" matt coughs out,

he palms his face, squeezing his eyes shut.

"its- its okay." i breathe,

"that is so embarrassing i swear to goddd.." matt groans,

i laugh slightly, "definitely unexpected." i smile.

matt covers his face with his hands, silence filling the rooom.

"you should finish the job." i blurt out, breaking the silence.

matt drops his hands from his face, his eyebrows raised. "what?"

i sit up on the bed, matt sits up against the headboard, watching my every move.

i trace my fingers over his waistband, "you're still hard, it hurts doesnt it?"

matt nods shyly, his hands shaking slightly.

i dont even know what i'm doing at this point, i guess after seeing him so exposed, i want to see him do more... so bad to the point my desperation is just taking over my normal thoughts.

my hand slides down the fabric of his pyjama pants, just above the large tent in his pants.

"please?-" matt breathes, his eyebrows knit together.

his pale cheeks are a deep hue of pink, small beads of sweat start to form on his harline.

"please what?" i question teasingly.

"please touch me." matt chokes out, his eyes fixed on my hand.

"tell me what you want me to do to you." i tell him,

matt starts to speak, but i cut him off.

"look at me when you speak matt."

he nods, swallowing harshly before looking over at me nervously.

"i need you- i need you to touch me." matt says, his eyes fixed on mine.

i grin, nodding slightly.

i tug down his pyjama pants back down to his mid thighs, his erection springing out instantly.

"why didnt you tell me you were so big?" i whisper, staring into matts eyes.

i hold my palm up to matts chin,

"spit."

matts eyebrows furrow, "what-! what?"

"you heard me, spit." i repeat myself.

"thats disgus!-" matt starts, but i cut him off.

"i guess i wont touch you then, because that would be even more disgusting wouldnt it."

matt looks up at me with puppy eyes, before spitting into the palm of my hand.

"good boy" i whisper.

i gently take his length into my palm, a sharp gasp escapes his red lips.

i squeeze the base of his cock lightly,

"oh my god!" matt squeaks, his brown hair flopping down infront of his eyes.

matts wraps his hand around my own, urging me to go faster.

i move his hand off of mine, placing it by his side.

“i need to- please just do it.” matt rambles on,

i slowly start to stroke his length,

“oh-“ he gasps, matt keeps eye contact with me the whole time through his half shut eyes.

his brown hair sticks to his pale forehead, and the muscles in his lower stomach tense.

i run my thumb over the slit on his tip, he sucks in a sharp breath, his veiny hands gripping the sheets harder.

“you’re doing so well for me.” i praise matt, continuing to run my hand up and down his dick, i squeeze him harder as i go higher up.

“thank- thank you-“ he squeezes out breathlessly.

"yeah?" i smirk,

i run my nails over his lower tummy, gently lifting his pink shirt up his torso to reveal his stomach more, mainly so he doesn't make a mess of his shirt when he cums.

"im so close y/n-!" matt whimpers,

he bucks his hips up into my hand, a loud whine escaping his pouty lips.

"let go matt, 'm right here." i say softly,

matt squeezes his eyes shut, a guttural moan escaping his mouth.

he finally releases,

spurts of white hit his lower stomach and just the bottom of his shirt,

i continue to slowly pump him through his orgasm as he rides it out,

matts hands let go of the bedsheets, his face completely flushed and his leg shaking slightly.

suddenly it hits me.

this is my bestfriend, that ive just made cum. he probably wasn't even fully thinking he was just horny and-

my thoughts get cut off by matts croaky voice,

"that was- so 'fuckin hot." he mumbles groggily,

"that was normal right? like friends do that all the time for eachother-?" i ramble nervously, anxious that ive crossed a boundry,

"yeah- totally normal." matt instantly replies, not sounding too sure of himself.

"yeah.." i respond,

"even if its not a 'normal' thing for friends to do, can we make it normal? 'cause i dont think i've came that hard in years."

-------

THANK YOU GUYS SM FOR 7K THATS INSANITY!! hope you liked this one!!

@downbad4reid

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[lovelivision]

BAD ROMANCE.ᐟ

𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆: gojo satoru/reader

𝐖𝐂: 9.4k

𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐘: your love life is in a tragic state, all your dates go poorly and just when you think you found a nice guy you could like, that ends poorly too. good thing you have your best friend gojo to look out for you !

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒: 18+ only, smut, f!reader, she/her pronouns used, cheating (not done by reader or gojo), dirty talk, cunnilingus, fingering, spitting, praise, p in v sex, creampie, multiple orgasms, big dick!gojo, tease/mean!gojo (he likes embarrassing reader), jealous!gojo, gojo is down BAD, use of pet names, that's all !! (i think :3)

Checking the time again, you sigh, it’s bordering on an hour since you first sat down to wait for your date. The thought that you had been stood up entered your mind maybe half an hour ago but now it’s practically been cemented.

Maybe you should just cut your losses and leave but this is a nice place, it’d be a shame to waste the reservation. Hope that your date is going to miraculously show up has left you though. Opening your texts, you think of who to message, the idea to message Gojo briefly crossing your mind before you decide he is the worst possible person to tell about this.

Instead, you message Shoko, asking if she’s free and telling her of your failed date. It takes her a few minutes to reply and when she does, instead of a straightforward response, you receive a cryptic and ambiguous saluting emoji. Deciding to take that as confirmation of her presence, you begin waiting… again.

You think you’ve reached your waiting quota of the year, no more waiting on people. Why do people never seem to value your time? While lamenting to yourself silently, you don’t notice the arrival of someone incredibly familiar, someone incredibly exasperating.

“I’m hurt you know.”

The words startle you and as you look up to find the source of them, you’re confronted with Gojo standing beside you. Pouting like he’s feeling extremely slighted by you for some indiscernible reason.

You almost sputter at him, his presence completely unexpected, “What are you doing here?”

He ignores your question, continuing with his faux pain, “My best friend gets stood up and instead of messaging me… she messages Shoko? That stings.”

Sighing off his dramatics, you ask again, “What are you doing here, Gojo?”

“What else would I be here for?” He smiles big at you, moving to sit in the chair opposite you, flopping down and making himself comfortable, “I’m here to be your date!”

Propping your head up on your hand, you grumble at him, “How did you even know I was stood up?”

“I was with Shoko when you messaged her,” he shrugs easily.

You squint at him, “Why are you here and not her?”

“Because it is my duty as your best friend to be there for you.”

So stubborn about the weirdest things, you’ve known each other forever and sure, maybe he is your best friend, but this is something that has bruised your ego a bit. It’s silly, but for some reason… you don’t really want for Gojo to see you like this.

Sulking, you huff, “It’s not a big deal, I just didn’t wanna waste the reservation.”

“Don’t lie, you dressed up all cute and the dude couldn’t even be bothered to show up?” He frowns like he’ll get angry if he thinks about it for too long, “It’s a big deal.”

“You’re more upset about it then I am,” you play at indifference and while you don’t really care about your failed date, you are thinking really hard about how he said you dressed cute.

“That’s just ‘cause you’re always settling for less than what you deserve,” he grows a little more irritated, like his observation annoys him more than it annoys you.

Defending yourself with a grumble, “That’s not true.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” he smiles in a manner that exudes disbelief. Because it does, Gojo has witnessed you settle for less nearly every single day of your lives and every time he has to grit his teeth and cope.

Crossing your arms, you snark at him, “Don’t patronise me, Gojo.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” he still has that smile plastered on his face.

You glare at him from across the table but sit in silence, not really having anything else to say to him right now. Annoyed at yourself for losing the back and forth between the two of you for not the first time and definitely not the last.

Gojo, however, is not capable of sitting in silence for too long and so, he whines at you, “Anyways, I thought I was always your first call when things went wrong.”

Looking away from him, you scratch at the back of your neck awkwardly, “You are… for other things.”

Catching onto your meaning, he asks, “So, you never call me when things go wrong on dates?”

“…Correct.”

“Why not?”

“It’s not really something I thought would matter to you this much.” The truth is, you’ve been on much worse dates, dates where they actually show up but prove themselves to be some of the worst people. You always call Shoko though… that or you just brush it off.

Telling Gojo about your dating life feels weird, it’s not like he tells you about his.

His mouth downturns at your remark, “Anything that involves you matters to me.”

“It’s not like you tell me about your dating life,” you counter, starting to feel somewhat badly.

“I would, if I had one,” he leans back into his chair more, “I’m not currently dating though.”

Sheepishly, you say, “Oh…well…I am.”

“I know that now,” his eyes focus on you, “Just how many dates have you gone on recently?”

“Recently?” he nods at you, “Uhm… a few every couple of weeks, not heaps but… frequently enough that getting stood up isn’t the worst thing to happen to me lately.” You laugh slightly at a memory, “You know, on one of them, the guy actually got back with his ex during our date, like he–”

You cut yourself off when you realise Gojo isn’t experiencing the same amount of enjoyment at the recounting of your date a few weeks ago. “Why is this bugging you?”

“It’s not,” his tone is certain but the expression he’s wearing is anything but. Clearly annoyed by something.

Challenging his logic, you ask, “Do you want me to tell you about my dating life?”

He thinks on it for a second, “No.”

Tilting your head at him, “See? That’s what I thought–”

“–But I want you to call me when things go badly,” his gaze even on you, unwavering.

“You’re annoying,” you huff out a breath.

His face brightens up again, “And yet I’m still your best friend.”

You can only roll your eyes at him because he’s right, he’s completely annoying and also completely your best friend.

★

After that failed date that turned into you having dinner with Gojo, you decided you would listen to him and call him whenever a date goes south. He seemed actually bothered by the fact you weren’t relying on him more, so you decided that if something does go wrong, you’d tell him about it.

However, your dating life has been going pretty swimmingly the past couple weeks. You’ve actually found someone you wouldn’t mind being with, having gone on a few dates with him now. You’ve pretty much been exclusively seeing him, he’s taken you out for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Previous dates barely made it through one meal, but this guy managed to appeal to you enough to take you out multiple times.

It’s your fault that you got your hopes up, thinking that maybe he was different but as you sit on the couch in his apartment, his assumed girlfriend yelling at him, you can see he’s just like everyone else in the dating scene these days. It’s that or you just have really bad luck when it comes to your romantic life.

For the third time, you try to leave but he holds you back, “Wait no, please don’t go, this is just a misunderstanding!”

You shrug him off you, his touch making you feel disgusting.

Going to say something in reply, but his girlfriend speaks first, “So now you’re cheating on me and trying to keep her here?”

He sputters, like he forgot she was here for a moment, “No! Babe, I’m not cheating on you!”

Awkwardly, you scratch at the back of your neck, “Listen, I’m going to be so honest, I think you’re a bad person and any interest I had in you is gone. I’d just really like to leave now.”

He’s wearing an annoyed look on his face, “How do you even expect to get home? I drove you here.”

She scoffs at him from by the door, foot tapping impatiently, “Now you’re offering her a ride home? Are you fucking serious right now?”

Walking to the front door, you shuffle around his girlfriend, “I’m just gonna… slide right past you.” Pausing after opening the door and turning back to address her, “Uhm… Just in case he tries lying to you… we went on multiple dates over the past couple weeks.” Standing awkwardly for an extra moment as her face twists in realisation, “Bye!” You rush out the door, speed walking to the elevator.

The screaming and yelling gets louder from their apartment, able to hear them until you finally get in the elevator and start heading down to the ground floor. In the lobby, you pull out your phone and sigh dejectedly, scrolling for Gojo’s contact, you need a ride home.

He picks up pretty quickly, “Hello?”

You get straight to the point, not feeling particularly great right about now, “…I need a ride home.”

“Well, good evening to you too,” he replies, voice full of mirth, “You know. people normally exchange pleasantries over the phone before immediately asking for things, I’ve been told – by you actually – that just asking for things straight up can be read as rude, so–”

“–Satoru.”

The use of his name has him going quiet, stopping his tangent instead to ask, “Where are you?”

You’re tired, your mood travelling through the phone as you answer, “Some apartment, I’ll text you the address…”

“You okay?” He checks.

You can’t help the pause before your reply, “…Yeah.”

His concern for you growing at your seeming uncertainty, “You gonna tell me what happened?”

It’s a little embarrassing, you think, but yeah, you’ll tell him about it, “Later… I just wanna go home now.”

“Alright, I’ll be there soon.” He hangs up before you get to thank him.

You text him the address and then head out the front of the building, waiting for him to get you. While you’re waiting, you find yourself wondering if that girl will stay with him, you hope she doesn’t, she deserves better than him.

When Gojo pulls up, you silently slip into the passenger seat, you’re expecting him to immediately drive away but he turns and looks at you. His eyes examining you carefully, scrutinising you.

Turning your head to the side, “What?”

“Just making sure you’re okay.” His hands reach out and for a second you think he’s going to touch you, but he pulls on the seatbelt and clicks it into place for you.

You mumble out at him, dismissive, “I’m fine.”

He hums at you, in that way that tells you he doesn’t believe you even a little bit but he’s letting it go for now. Instead focusing on getting you home.

Back at your apartment, Gojo follows you all the way inside, you thought maybe he would just drop you home and leave you alone, but he’s followed you into your living room. You don’t know if you have the energy for him right now, feeling so drained. Probably feeling this way because you’re incapable of finding a decent guy to date.

Couch looking so inviting, you flop down onto it face first, mumbling out, “Gojo, will you just be my boyfriend?”

He seems taken aback by your sudden ask, choking on his own spit, coughing out a confused, “What?”

Sighing, you cryptically answer, “I don’t think I’m built for the dating scene.”

When he finishes hacking up a lung, he taps your legs, to which you hold them up so he can sit down. His hand tugging them back down once he’s sat, “What happened, sweetheart?”

Your voice is still muffled by the couch cushions, “Been seeing a guy for a couple weeks now–”

“–The same one?” Gojo cuts you off.

Humming out a, “Yes and–”

Again, he cuts you off, “–That’s pretty serious…”

I know but­–”

“–Why didn’t you tell me about him?” His tone growing slightly alarmed by the apparent seriousness of your dating life.

Becoming somewhat annoyed, you push yourself out of the cushions and sit up to face him, your legs still resting in his lap, “You said you didn’t wanna hear about my dating life.” You point an accusatory finger at him.

“Yeah, but casually dating and actively seeing someone is different–” He’s not really sure if he’s making a fair point or not but sticking to it like he is.

“–Does it matter?” You’re looking at him incredulously, not sure if there is a difference.

He’s steadfast in his opinion, “Of course it matters.”

“I don’t think it should, especially since–”

“–If you’re seeing the same guy multiple times that means you were actually interested in him­–” He’s annoyed at himself for not realising you were seeing the same guy, for not asking questions, not realising how serious you were getting about one guy. So caught up in this one fact that he’s lost sight of his original purpose of being here.

“–Can you stop cutting me off!” You raise your voice at him, getting sick of how much he’s been interrupting you, “I’ve been trying to tell you that he had a girlfriend the whole time,” you purse your lips and look away from him, feeling embarrassed, “That’s why I asked you to come get me.”

“Oh…” He feels bad now.

“…Yeah, she showed up while I was there, and it was really uncomfortable, and I didn’t exactly feel safe.” You sigh, slumping, “And now I just feel really bad about dating.”

Completely serious when he suggests, “Maybe you should stop.”

“Stop dating?”

Consistent in his confirmation, “Yes.”

Meeting his gaze again, “How else am I going to meet someone?”

He rolls his eyes at your question, irritated for reasons unknown to you, “Why do you need to date someone now anyways?”

You don’t really see his point, what does he mean ‘why?’… why else do people date? “Maybe I’m lonely, maybe I seek companionship, maybe I’m like every other normal person?”

“You have me though,” you’d think he was joking if he weren’t so straight faced.

Unsure how to go about answering when it seems pretty straight forward to you, “Gojo… that’s not the same thing, we’re friends, we don’t look at each other that way.”

“Says you.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“I’d date you in a heartbeat,” he folds his arms over his chest, “In fact, you’re the only person I want to date.”

You can’t tell if he’s teasing or not, “Get real, that’s not what I meant.”

His head tilts at you, “What did you mean then?”

“I’m talking about romantic and sexual attraction,” you’re avoiding his gaze again.

So casual in how he bluntly asks, “You think I’m not sexually attracted to you?”

His question catches you off guard slightly, “It’s not just about sexual attraction, Gojo,” you shake your head, “if that were the case, I’d just be having one night stands all the time, I want a relationship with someone…”

He nods his head like he suddenly understands, “Ah, so you think I’m not romantically interested in you?”

“You shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?”

Disbelieving when you look at him, “Are you serious right now? We’re friends.”

“Yeah, we are friends, but I also happen to be romantically and sexually attracted to you.”

How do you even respond to a confession like that? He’s not even flustered, completely nonchalant in how he’s just told you that he’s interested in you. “I don’t think–”

“–Are you going to tell me you’re not interested in me? Even a little bit?”

“We’re friends.”

“Is that the only thing stopping you?” He doesn’t wait for your answer, “Because if it is, then it’s a little arbitrary, no?”

The beginning of a frown settles on your features, “What are you trying to get me to say? That I’d date you if we weren’t friends, that I’d fuck you?”

He smiles at you, “Sure, but if you would if we weren’t friends, I’m saying you should even though we are.”

Frown deepening, “You’re being serious?”

“I’m being so serious,” he leans in slightly, hand moving to your face, thumb smoothing over the crease between your brows.

Looking at his lips before catching yourself and turning your head to the side, away from his touch, away from his enticing lips.

He sighs at your reaction, “You know, I’ve been interested in you from the beginning, and maybe I’m an idiot for not saying anything but watching you seriously try dating someone else might just kill me.”

You had no idea he liked you, you’ve liked him at different points in your life too, but he always seemed so out of reach from you, and you never wanted to ruin the friendship, so you forced yourself to move on. It feels a little unfair that you’re finding out now he’s liked you the whole time, “What are you asking of me?”

“I’m asking you to give me a chance,” his hand gently guides your face to look at him again, “I’m asking you to seriously try dating me.”

You’re trying to make a decision, trying to figure out how to answer him, if you should even give him a chance but the way he’s looking at you, how his gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips is distracting you.

Brows pulling up, voice quieter than before, “Gojo, you need to stop looking at me like that if you want an answer.”

“Like what?” He plays dumb.

“Like you really wanna kiss me,” you murmur back.

“Can’t help it…” he leans in a little bit more, “Maybe if you let me kiss you, I’ll stop.”

“Satoru,” you warn.

“Hmm?” His eyes meet yours for a moment, trying to see what you want.

He’s making you dizzy, “I can’t make a choice when you’re this close.”

Humming at you, “Why not?”

“Can’t think,” you blurt it out before really thinking about how it will come across.

He’s smiling smugly, “Then don’t.”

You don’t know who leans in first, all you know is his lips are on yours and they’re soft. Kissing you gently, trying to learn how you like to be kissed. Growing more insistent the longer you let him kiss you, the years of his need bleeding into it.

One of his hands traveling down your body, resting on your hip, the other cradling your face. He’s leaning into you more, pushing your body down into the couch, him following behind it, never parting from your lips very long.

Hand now holding himself above you, kiss growing urgent, tongue licking into your mouth, meeting yours in a way that makes your body tingle. If you thought his proximity was making you dizzy before than his kiss might have you actually passing out. Skin growing hot at how his hand on your face angles you, how he deepens the kiss effortlessly.

If Gojo were more aware of himself, of the precarious position he’s put himself in, he might be a little bit more careful with how feverish his kisses are and how needy he’s getting but when he’s finally getting to kiss you after years of not being able to, he can’t really control himself. The little control he does have, slipping when you moan into his mouth, his own moan shared in the kiss.

It's you who parts the kiss, it had to be because he certainly wasn’t going to be able to do it. If he had his way, he’d have his mouth on you until he died. In the back of his mind, he knew that kissing you would be good, but he didn’t think he’d get so lost in it. Somewhat embarrassed at himself for how aroused he’s gotten over your lips on his.

Your huffed breaths are intermingled with how close you both are to each other, Gojo hovering over you, speaking into your mouth, “Have you made a decision yet?”

You’re having trouble thinking still, especially with how his lips brush ever so slightly against yours, “I…uhmm…”

When he realises how dazed you are, two things happen. One; his ego grows about ten times bigger and two; he pulls back from you, still close enough that if you tugged on him, you could kiss him again but enough to hopefully give you room to think.

“Come on, don’t keep a guy waiting,” he’s taunting you lightly, taking joy in how hazy your eyes are as you look up at him.

“Okay,” you nod.

“Hmm? Okay what?”

Taking another moment to clear your brain fog, you answer again, “Okay, I will seriously try dating you.”

“Can’t date anyone else while you do,” he conditions.

“Okay,” agreeing easily.

He adds, “Have to seriously think about me being your boyfriend.”

Again, agreeing, “Okay.”

“Have to keep kissing me right now,” smile growing on his features.

“Ok–” frowning at him when you realise, “–Hey.”

“You don’t want to?” His hand tilts your head up by your chin, looking down into your eyes, “Because you look like you want to.”

Pouting at him, “Don’t be cruel.”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, sweetheart,” his smile evil as he continues to look down at you.

Leveling him with an even stare, you state, “I don’t sleep with guys on the first date.”

“Got a dirty mind, huh? All I asked for was a kiss.”

You glare at him and then try to avoid his gaze, voice smaller than before, “You don’t kiss like that’s all you want.”

His smile is crooked as he asks, “And how do I kiss?”

Feeling your skin flare at his taunting question, at how he leans in again, his mouth right over yours, “Dizzyingly.”

He breathes out an amused laugh before he’s slotting his mouth back over yours, how you described his kiss is accurate. He kisses you in such a way that you can’t think straight even if you really want to, which is why it’s probably a bad idea to keep letting him kiss you if you don’t want to sleep with him before you even get a first date.

Abruptly parting your mouth from his, gasping out, “Wait,” taking a second to catch your breath. Gojo groans softly at the loss of your lips, his forehead resting on yours waiting for you to speak.

“What’s wrong?” He asks when you don’t continue.

“You need to stop kissing me.”

“Oh?” He hums at you in thought, his lips now trailing down the side of your face, only to rest right by your ear, “And why’s that?”

His voice has goose bumps raising on your skin, “If you keep kissing me like that…” your volume gets quieter as you mumble out, “…I’ll wanna have sex with you.”

He has the fucking audacity to laugh at you, “That worked up by a few kisses, huh?” Taunting you like he isn’t the hardest he’s ever been, cock twitching at your confession.

“Shuddup.”

His words are dripping with delight, “At least we know you’re sexually attracted to me.”

He licks lightly at your ear, and you feel like you almost jump out of your skin, gasping at it. Hands reaching out to push back on his chest, “You’re a mean man, Gojo.”

“At this point…” He looks you over, unmoved by your hands, “…I think it would be meaner to deprive yourself.”

“We are not sleeping together for the first time on my couch before we even go on a date,” you’re trying to stay steadfast but he’s making it hard when he keeps looking at you like that.

“So… you’re saying I should take you to the bedroom?” When you look at him in exasperation, he smiles softly, “I’m just kidding, we won’t do anything you don’t want to, but I will point out – for the last time – that you look an awful lot like you want to.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t want to… I just feel like if you’re gonna make me seriously consider you then I should date you properly too,” you avoid his gaze, feeling unusually sincere.

Abruptly, he states, “It wouldn’t be our first date though.”

“What?”

He’s a little distant when he answers, having trouble concentrating on the conversation when you’re pouting your lips at him like you are, “I count a couple weeks ago as our first date.”

“When I was stood up?” You scoff, “That does not count.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t even planned.”

“No but we ate dinner together and you were dressed awful cute, I count it as a date,” smirk present on his face as he continues to hover over you.

Ignoring his compliment, you continue to try and reason, “We were still just friends then though.”

“So, we aren’t ‘just friends’ now?” He’s being a smart ass, he knows what you mean but he’s not going to let up on this, taking it as a small victory in making you think of him as more than just a friend.

You return earnestly, “I don’t wanna count it.”

“Why not?”

“Because it wasn’t meant to be you on that date…” before he can get hurt over those words, you clarify, “…don’t get me wrong, I had fun and I’m glad you showed up, but it wasn’t planned to be you… when we go on our first date… I want it to be meant for you.” You’re unsure if you verbalised yourself in a way that makes sense, feeling much more nervous all of a sudden.

He’s looking at you so intently and you’re worried you’ve upset him somehow, “I know you said I need to stop kissing you, but that’s what I want more than anything right now.” He leans in closer, pausing just shy of your lips.

His words make your heart stutter, throwing caution to the wind as you close the distance between the two of you again, kissing him fully. Letting his mouth consume your ability to think critically, all too happy to fall into him.

Your control of the situation is slipping more and more away from you and so is the ability to care, not minding at all how you’re becoming more and more okay with how hot your body is starting to feel.

Hands reaching up and fisting the material of his shirt, pulling him down into you, his hips colliding with yours. Almost entirely instinctually – and somewhat purposefully – your legs wrap around his lower half. One of his hands reaches for your thigh, gripping the fattest part of it harshly.

You both moan into the kiss and he parts his mouth from yours, voice straining when he speaks, “Sweetheart, if you really don’t want to do anything more than this then you need to tell me to get off you right now.”

Looking at him through your lashes, you play coy, “But I like having you on top of me.”

A shiver runs down his spine, “You’re evil,” he grunts, fighting the urge to grind down into you.

He’s been pining after you for years and it feels like torture to be this close to you, pelvis pressed up against yours, having you so pliant and needy under him. He can feel his sanity slipping from him the longer you stay like this, and your words make it harder for him to pull away.

“Satoru–” when you say his name his hips jut into yours, making you gasp against him.

He hisses an apology through his teeth, “Sorry – fuck – sorry, what’s up?”

Deciding to be forward, “Take me to my room?”

Trying to hide the excitement from his face, he checks with you, “You’re sure?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you give a small nod, feeling shy.

You really do want to though, more than anything. Only initially so hesitant because this doesn’t feel like the right way to do things but then again, your whole relationship with Gojo is a little less than conventional at times.

When he determines that you’re sure of yourself, he’s off you in the blink of an eye. Quick in his movements as he pulls you up along with him. Before you can even really register that you’re off the couch, you’re thrown over his shoulder as he walks hurriedly to your room.

“Someone’s eager,” you laugh at how ridiculous he’s being.

The chuckle he returns is humourless, “You have no fucking idea.”

You’re dropped down onto your bed unceremoniously, bouncing slightly at the force of it. Your arms reach out behind you to support yourself, palms splayed against your bedspread. Gojo is already tugging his shirt off and over his head, thrown and lost to some corner of your room.

“Gojo, breathe.”

“Don’t need to breathe,” he smiles large at you, “Do need your pants off though.”

Listening to him, you shimmy your pants down your legs, mumbling to him about how bossy he is.

“You know… I’m hearing a lot of complaining but I am also seeing a whole lot of direction following,” he teases.

You grumble at him, “If you’re going to be like this the whole time then I’m changing my mind.

“Don’t lie to yourself, sweetheart. You’re not fooling anyone, especially not with how you’re rubbing your thighs together.” His large hands grip your thighs, “Feeling horny?”

You don’t really want to answer him honestly but denying it feels like a trap, like he’d do something to prove you wrong and the last thing you want is for him to torture you. You’re already so pitifully slick from kissing him.

Fighting with your embarrassment, you give him your best pleading face, “Mhm, really horny.”

The smugness drops from his face, hands suddenly tugging you down the bed as he drops to his knees. Mouth leaving kisses from your knees to your inner thighs, your breath catching in your lungs. Not expecting him to be so forward, though you don’t know what you were expecting if not that.

“Gojo, you don’t have to–”

“I want to,” his eyes flick to yours, “Plus, if you wanna take me, you’re gonna need the prep,” smile growing at how your eyes grow wider.

Disbelief clear in your expression, accusing, “You’re full of it.”

He’s not worried about your scepticism, “You’ll find out for yourself in a bit.” He shrugs easily, “Now, can I put my tongue on your pretty pussy, or do you have more to say?”

He asks but his attention is already completely on your covered cunt, a single finger moving under the elastic of the waist band just to snap it back against you. A small noise of shock leaving you, “Ah! Do what you want…”

Oh, he looks so excited by your words, “You mean it?”

You’ll be honest and admit you weren’t really paying attention to what you were saying, brain hazy with how close he is to your core, skin pricking at how you can feel his hot breath against you. Feeling so unusually exposed and sensitive and you can’t tell if you’re that worked up or if he just has that effect on you.

“Mhm,” you’re nodding your head at him, giving him a green light, for what, you’re not entirely sure, all you know is that you want him to do something – anything.

“These are some really cute panties…kinda bothers me,” he’s still playing with the edges of them, annoyed when remembering you were with another guy tonight. Were you going to sleep with him tonight?

Pulling yourself up onto your elbows, you question, “What?”

Eyes flicking towards yours, “I’m a bit of a jealous guy.”

“I know this,” he always has been quick to get worked up over things regarding you, though it makes a little more sense after learning he’s liked you for so long.

He smiles at you, but his eyes are humourless, “Of course you do,” he fists at the material of your panties, “But the idea of another guy getting so close to seeing you in these… has me feeling really annoyed.”

The sound of fabric tearing fills your ears, he’s just ripped your panties off you completely. There is no salvaging them, completely useless as he throws them over his shoulder.

“Hey! those were my good pair!” They were one of the nicer pairs you own.

“Who cares about that?” His tone is dismissive, hands spreading your legs obscenely, eyes greedily looking at your uncovered pussy, “Your cunt is much cuter.”

God, you feel like you might pass out, face suddenly extremely hot, “Don’t be crude.”

“Hmm? …but I think you like it though…” his thumb swipes through your folds and you gasp at him, “Got so much wetter when I said it.”

He’s quick to begin rubbing circles into your clit, thumb giving even pressure. The stimulation has your arms shaking, threatening to give out from under you. Biting your lip to stop yourself from moaning, feeling embarrassed at how intently he’s shamelessly staring at your cunt.

Continuing to speculate, he says, “That or you like being praised…” he smirks evilly, “You like being praised, sweetheart? Being told how good you’re being for me?”

Your heart leaps in your chest, brows upturning, trying to hide your outward reaction to his words, “Hah– No…”

“Such a bad liar,” eyeing your face, “Wearing a really great expression right now though.”

Fighting the urge to grind down, you deny, “Not lying.”

He ignores you, “Could be both though,” he’s continuing to ponder on what you react most to, “Which is it, sweetheart? You like how crude I am, or do you like the praise?”

You don’t plan on answering him, eyes closing harshly against his intense gaze, feeling way too exposed. His touch leaves you and you open your eyes in alarm, trying to see what he’s doing. You see his smile before he’s leaning in and licking up the length of your pussy, eyes locked on yours the whole time.

Surprised moans slip from you, arms almost giving out completely, head rolling back. His arms wrap around your legs to hold you steady, face pushing closer into you, tongue flicking at your clit before pressing into your pussy hole.

He’s relishing in your sounds, in how wet you are, how you taste and smell, almost forgetting why he did this in the first place. Pulling away from you with a lewd smack of his lips, smiling big at the whine you let out from the loss of him.

Huffing slightly as he says, “Asked a question, not licking your pussy again until you answer it.”

“I don’t know,” your head lolls forward, eyes wet.

Head moving to the side to nip lightly at your thigh, “Shall we find out then?”

You jolt at the sensation, face twisting in confusion at him.

“You don’t gotta do anything, sweetie, just stay like this,” his hands push back on your thighs though, opening you up to him even more. “Been doing so good for me, sound so pretty,” he coos at you.

Brows furrowing at his words, heart skipping beats at his sudden praise, feeling fuzzy all over.

He hums in thought, “So fucking wet for me, dripping everywhere, creamy fucking pussy.”

You twitch at the switch, wanting to crawl away from him.

“I think I’ve just realised something,” he glances up at you, “Got such nice reactions to both things I said, do you know how much wetter you got, cunt twitching and drooling for me.”

You try pulling from him, but his hold is firm, “Gojo!” You warn.

He might be enjoying this too much but learning about what gets you going is way too enticing, especially when he doesn’t have to do much to have you looking so pathetic. “Trying to run away from me,” he tsks, “But you’re fucking dripping, so reactive, so sweet.” His eyes are glazing over, working himself up.

“‘Toru!” You call for him again, you feel like you’re on fire, beyond embarrassed.

He groans at the nickname, not hearing it from you in so long, you used to always call him that. He liked it a little too much, cock leaking for you. He feels as wrecked as he looks when he looks up at you, “I think you like both,” is his conclusion.

Reaching up, he grabs at your hand and pulls it down to your cunt, his fingers guiding your own through your slick. You gasp at it, not expecting for yourself to be so soaked. Biting at your lower lip when he moves your fingers over your clit, teasing you.

Dazed when he asks, “Ever been this wet, pretty?”

You shake your head, “No… I didn’t know I…”

Fingers moving yours to your entrance, “Poor thing, didn’t know how slutty her pussy was.” Feeling the way your cunt clenches at his words, his face bright with it, “Fucking great though, in love with it,” and again, your brows raising in realisation, “Yeah… you know now, don’t you?”

“You’re making me feel embarrassed,” you pout, head dizzy.

“No, I’m making you feel so fucking horny, not my fault that you like being embarrassed and praised at the same time,” he pulls your fingers away from your core, moving them to his mouth, sucking them clean.

You remove your fingers from him, coming to rest back in the bed, feeling breathless as you look down at him. “What do you want from me?”

“Want you to admit it, want you tell me how much you like when I talk to you,” his hand tickles up the skin of your inner thigh.

“…Like it,” you mumble out.

Humming in thought, “Hmm, not good enough, don’t think I believe you.”

Repeating, louder, “I like it.”

Tilting his head at you, “You like what?”

“I like when you talk to me,” you say with more force, brows furrowed.

He pretends to be unsure of your answer, “Are you sure?”

“Yes!” You try again, but as his expression remains unchanging, you add, “I like when you talk to me, I like how hot and fuzzy your words make me feel, I like just the sound of your voice, makes me want to squirm. Love it even! Is that what you wanted to hear?” You huff.

“Holy fuck, yes,” if he weren’t already on his knees, he would’ve fallen to them again.

You let out a squeal at the way his mouth is already back on you, tongue pushing into your hole insistently. Fervent in his actions, clearly worked up by your words. If he were on the bed, he’d be shamelessly grinding his hips down into it, cock so fucking hard it’s aching. Pulsing so pitifully for you and if he weren’t so completely distracted by how you taste he’d throw caution to the wind and fuck into you right now.

“Gojo! Oh–” His name comes out all broken, ruined and shaky from how he laps at your cunt, drinking down all your slick.

Your elbows officially give out and you’re flopping back onto the mattress, fingers digging into the bed. Struggling to hold in all the little noises he’s pulling from you, hips trying to desperately rut into his pretty face with no luck, locked in place by his strong hold.

Gasping out at him, “M–more. Gojo – hah – more, please.”

Grunting against you, vibrations running up your spine, wanting desperately to kick your legs against the stimulation but unable to. He’s worked you up so much, so fucking desperate for release that his touch is making you crazy.

A finger presses at your hole, slipping inside easily, both his finger and tongue fucking into you. Another finger added, opening you up, scissoring them, tongue sneaking deeper inside your cunt.

He feels drunk, head heavy and brain foggy, tongue fucking you deeply. Delighting in the sounds of your sloppy pussy trying to suck him in deeper, he’s losing his mind. Tongue leaving you only for him to spit onto your cunt, thumb rubbing it into your clit, third finger added to the first two. Determined to have you ready for his cock.

“Need you to cum,” he sounds wrecked even to himself, “Before I do in my own pants – ffffuck –” Can’t help the way he curses at how you tighten around him at his words, “Must’ve been telling the truth about liking my voice, huh?” He teases, laughing breathlessly at how you react to him again.

Pressing out a simple, “S–so mean,” in response.

“You fucking like it,” eyes watching how your back arches off the mattress, “Love it even,” he reminds.

A series of moans leave you unabashedly at how he crooks his fingers just right, consistently hitting the one spot, thighs twitching at it. Stomach pulling tight and toes curling, head moving from side to side, so fucking close now.

“That’s it, sweetie,” he encourages, “Doing so good, just let go for me.”

You’re cumming suddenly, the abruptness of it shocking, like your body skipped the rest of the build up at Gojo’s words. If it didn’t feel good how he was fucking you through it, how his thumb kept rubbing at your clit, you’d feel beyond embarrassed at how you came just because he asked you to.

It’s not lost on him how quick you were to finish after he spoke, his ego big before and now fucking massive. Absolutely thrilled by how you continue to prove your responsiveness to him, if he were ever worried about you not being attracted to him, he can’t possibly remember why. Not when you’re squirming under him, tears threatening to slip from your waterline.

“Such a good direction follower,” he mocks, repeating his earlier sentiments.

His fingers keep stroking at you until your body goes limp, only jerking every now and again with your come down. Pulling them from you and parting them, looking at the way your cum connects his fingers together with white strings.

“Look at that,” his voice dripping with glee, “I was right… got such a creamy pussy,” he hums, shoving his fingers into his mouth.

He wipes his spit covered fingers on your thighs before standing, tugging off his pants and boxers before crawling up the mattress, leaning over you. Fingers skimming at your sides, pulling your shirt along with it, “Can I take this off, pretty?”

Eyes bleary when they meet his, giving a small nod, “Mhm.”

“You okay to keep going?” He checks, leaning in closer to you.

His concern makes you unreasonably happy, feeling genuinely cared for, “Yeah.”

“You sure–”

Cutting him off, “–Yes.”

Shock present on his face before smiling endearingly at you, completely smitten with you and has been for a long time now. It all feels a little surreal to him, being able to hold you, be intimate with you. Leaning in more, pressing soft kisses all over your face.

Showering you in affection as his hands continue to pull your shirt up. Only parting to pull it from you fully, thrown to some corner of your room, joining the rest of your clothes. Shuffling back so he can look at all of you, hands delicately tracing over you, like he’s memorising how you feel under his palms.

“You’re so soft,” he mumbles, hands smoothing over you. He drops onto you, face pressing between your tits, breathing in your scent.

Confused as your voice calls for him gently, “‘Toru?”

“Fuck,” he nips at your skin first and then moves to get back on his knees, “Alright, spread those pretty legs for me, sweetheart.”

Feeling placid from the intensity of your orgasm, you immediately listen to him and open your legs, moving them to the outside of his. Gojo feels like his heart grows in size at how quick you are to listen to him, so docile you don’t even talk back to him.

Your head cocks to the side at him, confused by his stare, “What?”

“Nothing,” he shakes his head at you, “You’re just really cute.”

He grabs your face, sandwiching your cheeks between his fingers, his lips leaving behind a big and sloppy kiss on yours before focusing back on your cunt. Grasping his cock and groaning at the pressure, squeezing himself to alleviate some of the need crawling desperately up his spine.

You can’t help but stare, he wasn’t full of it, he really is that big. Long and thick and looking so painfully hard, dripping precum so messily down the length of himself, dribbling down onto the bed sheets.

“It’s rude to stare,” he hisses, hand now stroking himself, clearly not even a little bit put off by your shameless staring. If anything, completely aroused by it.

Looking up into his eyes as you apologise, “‘M sorry.”

“Hah,” he huffs in amusement, “So polite all of a sudden, orgasm that good, pretty?”

“Yeah,” you nod, staring at him straight on, aiming to work him up more.

It works, “Fuck– alright,” his hips stutter into his hand and he stops fisting his cock, “‘Bout to give you an even better one,” guiding his dick to your core.

Swiping the head of himself through your folds, letting it collect the slick leaking from you. Teasing you like this for a bit, moving himself up and down before dipping into your hole, only to pull away again.

You whine at him over it, “Please.”

Smile large as he coos, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’ll take care of you.”

Keeping his word, he slowly presses the tip of his dick into you, hissing at the stretch, worried he didn’t give you enough prep. You bite your lip as you begin to take him in, fisting the sheets below, looking up at Gojo. His brows are upturned, and his jaw clenched, focusing so hard on being slow and careful. He pauses when you clench and flinch around him.

“I can take it,” gaze determined as you try to assure him, “You can keep going.”

“Oh, sweetie,” his hand grips at your inner thigh, squishing it under his hold, “I appreciate that,” he smiles, “I do… but you’re gonna want to pace yourself.”

You pout up at him, sulking, wanting to be full and not appreciating his probably – definitely – sound advice.

“Hah, don’t pout,” his thumb moves to your clit, “You’ll take it, know you will,” rubbing circles into it, “Cause I’m gonna make sure of it, but you gotta pace yourself.”

Under his touch, you relax again, and he pushes his hips forward, starting the slow process of opening you up on his cock. His control astounding himself right now, wanting nothing more than to fuck into you completely, feeling your pussy swallow him whole.

He’s not quite half-way yet and already pressing up against the most delicious spots inside you, with that and his consistent pressure on your clit, you’re suddenly so fucking close to cumming like this.

Reaching out to him, your hand lightly slaps at him, trying to warn, “I’m gonna – hah –”

Gojo realises when you clench down on him what you’re trying to say, the small noises you make getting louder, he almost blows his load the second he realises. Ripping himself from you suddenly, you cry out at the loss, cumming around nothing, gasping into your hand.

“Why? Why?” you’re almost incoherent as you ask him.

“I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart,” he keeps his thumb on your clit, trying to make up for the loss of his cock, “Would’ve cum if I hadn’t pulled out, wanna at least fuck you before I do.”

You glare at him, trying to convey how slighted you feel but he only seems to find it endearing, smiling at you over it. “I’ll make it up to you, don’t worry.”

Wasting no time, he fucks back into you, to where he was before he pulled out. Giving shallow thrusts as he keeps pressing forwards, breath stuttering at the small way he’s getting the friction he’s desperate for.

“Such a greedy cunt,” he murmurs, dick slipping deeper, “So quick to cum for me, sucking me in.”

“Gojo–” you whine at him, his words back to embarrassing you.

His voice cracks at how you refer to him, “–No, no, nono, what happened to ‘Toru?” Fucking deeper, so close to being balls deep.

“‘Toru, you’re–” cutting yourself off with a moan, he thrust the rest of the way in when you called to him, “–so deep.”

“Don’t I fucking know it,” he chuckles breathlessly, moving to press his body up against yours, craving the contact.

He’s pressed up against you completely, warm and strong, your legs loop around his waist and he slips in deeper. He groans at it, holding himself back, wanting you to adjust to all of him first. He nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and love bites against the sensitive skin there, relishing in the way your pussy jumps around him over such a small act.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you liked me or something,” he jokes, referencing how sensitive you are to him.

Without thinking, you admit, “I have – mmph – I’ve liked you mm–multiple times ah– at different points in – hah – our lives.”

His head snaps back as he twitches inside you, “Seriously?” When you nod, he grinds down into you, “Fuck– had me so stressed, liked you all this time and you’re telling me I could’ve had this pretty, little pussy so much sooner?”

You’re feeling a bit dazed, two orgasms deep and stretched so obscenely around him, cunt making wet noises just from the small way he’s grinding into you.

“When,” his words are hurried, when you look at him like he’s just said something in a different language, he asks again, “When have you liked me?”

“I don’t remember that, too many – hnn – different times,” you shake your head, you don’t even know if you could recount all the times you had feelings for him resurface even if you weren’t split open on his big dick.

He moans, starting to move his hips in shallow thrusts, “Enough that you – mmph – can’t remember specifics,” he groans, “Feels like a sick joke, been pining after you our – hah – whole lives.”

His mouth is on yours, kissing you deeply, sucking your tongue into his mouth, licking at you. The kiss so dizzying, you’re barely able to catch up to him before he’s talking again, “The most recent time– can you – hah – remember the most recent time you liked me?”

He’s desperate to know, wanting to know how small or big of a window he had missed. Failing to realise it doesn’t really matter all that much right now.

“Not – hah – not that long ago,” you’re almost panting now, wanting for him to move with more urgency but he’s still only thrusting into you shallowly.

“When, sweetie, tell me when, please,” his forehead pressed to yours, eyes imploring.

Struggling slightly as you press out, “B– before I started – hah – going on all those dates,” you’re trying really hard to think, “Beginning of the – hng – year?”

Smiling at you, big, happy, “Not that long ago, just gonna make you like me again.”

He’s a little annoyed that you went on so many dates right after having liked him, not completely lost on him that the two are probably connected and feeling frustrated that he hadn’t just told you about his feelings ages ago.

“Gonna charm the fuck outta you, take you to nice places, shower you in compliments, tell you how cute you are,” he’s rambling now, about your theoretical future dates, “Remind you every day how much I like you, how perfect you are, gonna make you like me again.”

“I’d like it if you moved, ‘Toru, please,” you beg, tears in the corners of your eyes from being teased.

“Since you asked so nicely,” he quips, kissing your cheek before complying.

Finally starting a pace that has you going crazy but in a different way, fast and deep, weighted thrusts that make you struggle to maintain focus. Pulling out almost completely before fucking back into you, hammering his hips into yours, lewd squelching filling the room at it.

Your whimpered moans have Gojo’s skin pricking, so turned on he feels insane, like you might kill him, “Got such a great pussy, fucking soaking wet, taking me so well, could die like this and not complain, fuck–”

Clawing at him now, at his forearms, his biceps, shoulders, back, anywhere you can reach, desperately scrabbling for purchase. “Gojo–”

“–No, I don’t know who that is,” he ignores your cry of his name.

Trying again, “‘Toru, want– I want–”

You’re not even entirely sure what you want or are asking for, but Gojo seems to know immediately. His hips moving faster, pelvis slapping into your clit every time he meets yours, cock hitting against your cervix in a way that hurts so fucking good.

Eyes rolling back in your skull with the pleasure, fat tears running down your face at it. Sex has never felt like this, is it meant to feel like this? Have you been doing it wrong? Or maybe he’s just insanely good at it, or maybe you just like him more than you were aware of.

“Feels– feels good, I–”

“Again? Fucking perfect, so perfect for me,” he sounds so excited, “Want it, want you to cum on me, cum all over my cock, fucking coat me in it.” It’s almost like he’s begging you for it.

Luckily for him, you really do like his voice, love how he talks to you and at his borderline begging, you’re cumming all over him. Cunt clenching down on him, sobbing out pitiful moans of his name as you cum. It’s coating him, just like how he asked for, creamy white ring at the base of his cock.

“Fuuck, that’s it, such a good girl,” your cunt jumps around his cock, and he laughs, “Oh? You liked that, should’ve called you a good girl sooner.”

Too dazed to fight him on his teasing, corners of your vision blurry and ears ringing, twitching pathetically under him. He doesn’t stop his thrusts, fucking into you harsher, more shallow, getting close to finishing himself.

Orgasm on the tip of his tongue, the thing that sends him over the edge is how you look up at him. Eyes fucked out and cheeks tear stained, whining out a small, “‘Toru, want it, please.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart,” his words are choked out, almost whining himself, balls heavy with how badly he wants to cum.

Thrusts faltering as he fucks into you the last few times, suddenly slamming his pelvis to yours, releasing all his cum inside you, painting your walls a pretty shade of white. Hips grinding into you as he finishes.

Fucked out whimpers of your name leaving him as he presses his head into the side of your neck. Biting down onto you, shocking you slightly, the pain unexpected, he lathes over it with his tongue.

He slumps down onto you, his weight too much, your hands push at him, “Too heavy.”

He hums out at you noncommittally but gets up, carefully slipping himself from you, not shy in how he stares at your pussy. At the way his cum gushes from it, the urge to fuck it all back inside you strong. He withholds though, seeing you’re clearly beyond fucked out. Next time, he promises himself.

Gone from you but not for too long, only leaving long enough to clean himself up and bring stuff back to clean you up. Wiping softly at your legs, cleaning you of his spend, “You look cute dripping with my cum,” he singsongs.

“Lewd,” you accuse, too tired to think of something more to say.

“Yeah…” he gets into bed by you, “But I’m certain you like that.”

You snuggle into his side, letting him cuddle you, “Not sleeping with you again until at least the third date.”

“I bet…” he looks down at you, lips hovering over yours, “…You’ll sleep with me after each of them.”

You go to scoff at him and deny it, but he kisses you, deep and imploring. Effectively shutting you up and as you let him kiss you how he likes, you realise, he might be right.

𝐀/𝐍: this got away from me, like it so often does, it was only meant to be a couple k of only smut but i am not normal so it turned into this! i hope you enjoyed <3 thank you for reading!

[⚠︎] — 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆: do not reupload / repost / translate / plagiarise my works © all works are the intellectual property of unheavenlyvision

[jamminvroomvroom]

I absolutely adore your writing,

For the celebration, could you please do virgin reader first time with Oscar?

sunshine.

op x fem!reader - 4k celebration

in which oscar arrives home to an unexpected guest…

hi hi hi! thank you so much anon, i hope this is what you wanted!! trying to get through requests, loving hearing from you guys! this one is so cute i think, let me know ur thoughts 😚😚

songs to set the mood: fall in love with you by montell fish, fade into you by mazzy star, like real people do by hozier

warnings: 18+!! minors dni!!! smut, fluff, friends to lovers, sleepy baby oscar, teeny tiny bit of angst, mutual pining, r’s first time, swearing

2.9k words

oscar’s exhausted, shoulders sagging beneath the thick material of his mclaren hoodie. he’s glad he left it in his carry on, the miserable london weather not even remotely living up to the warm glow of the middle eastern sun.

he craves his bed, dreamless sleep, entering the code to get into his building and slumping against the cool mirrored wall of the elevator. his eyes droop as the lift travels up, and the ding that sounds when he reaches his floor breathes life back into him.

the double header that kickstarted the season has knackered him, and he longs for alone time and silence to recuperate before he has to deal with the noise of going home and racing in front of a familiar crowd.

his key slides into the lock and he pushes the door open, throwing his bags by the door - he’ll deal with them later. the hoodie is shrugged off and dropped haphazardly on the floor next to the shoes he kicks off. his bed is calling. dazed, he trudges down the hallway, but he’s spooked by a faint sound coming from his bedroom.

as he primes himself to investigate, he hears footsteps, light and quiet against the floorboards. he goes to open his bedroom door, breathing heavy, but he just about jumps out of his skin when it swings open before he gets there. he yelps, and so do you, leaping into the air.

“you scared the shit out of me.” you shout, hand over your thumping heart.

“i scared you? what are you doing here?” oscar bites back, running his hand through his brown locks.

“sorry, sorry, i didn’t mean to be here without your permission but… it’s a long story. i didn’t think you’d be home yet.” you smile apologetically.

“sofa.” oscar mumbles, stalking past his bedroom and towards the living room. “what’s goi- are you wearing my shirt?” he splutters, finally looking at you properly.

your face heats up, and you cross your arms awkwardly.

“um, yeah? god, this is all so embarrassing.” you cover your face, falling onto the sofa. he plonks down beside you.

“tell me what happened.” oscar sighs.

“he dumped me.”

“oh.”

“yeah.”

“why?” oscar asks softly. “ugh, i knew i hated him for a reason.” he wrinkles his nose.

“i don’t know how to explain this without wading into major tmi territory.” your voice is small, quivering slightly.

“you can tell me, love.” he encourages gently.

“he found it weird that i’m, uh, a virgin?” you squeak, your voice raising into a question. oscar goes as red as you are.

“oh. oh.”

“oh god, you’re freaked out too. is there something wrong with me? like, why has this not happened? i thought i was ready with him, but then when it came down to it…” you ramble, trailing off.

“there’s nothing wrong with you.” oscar states, firm and serious. “him, on the other hand.” he shakes his head, disgusted. “he wasn’t good enough for you.” he spits.

“do you mind if i stay here?” you whisper, leaning into his side. “or, keep staying here?” you laugh softly. oscar joins in.

“you know you can always stay here.” he smiles sleepily. you’re just about the only person in the world he can stand right now, and always, actually. “but i need a nap, you coming?”

you nod and follow him to his room. the tv is still on, the one with monica and chandlers wedding playing quietly. oscar smiles. he knows it’s your favourite.

he flops onto his side of the bed, dropping off almost instantly. you watch over him, enamoured and sympathetic, in awe of him and the life he lives. you slip into bed beside him, leaving a respectable distance between you and the aussie.

you pass out right around chandler’s vows.

-

you stir between two thick arms. pale, warm skin is wrapped around you, oscar’s soft breath fanning your face as he sleeps.

you watch him, scanning each and every mole on his face, trying to ground yourself. you combat the anxiety of being in his arms, choosing to enjoy the moment, while he’s still peaceful. it’s nice to feel wanted, even if he’s unconscious.

for the first time, you’re glad your ex broke up with you, because how does it make sense that you feel safer, more wanted in the arms of your best friend?

“stop staring, ‘m gonna blush.” oscar mumbles, clearing his throat. his eyes are still shut, but he just knows you too well.

oscar opens his eyes slowly, blinking away sleep. you stare at each other, comfortable silence eating away at the palpable tension.

you kiss him.

because why wouldn’t you? it’s oscar, your oscar, and he’s sleepy and cosy and gorgeous, and you’ve waited too fucking long. you can’t resist it any longer, free from the bounds of being someone else’s.

his lips are warm, and he’s startled, but the surprise doesn’t falter him; just as quickly as you kiss him, he’s kissing you back. his large hand finds your face, and the other finds your waist, pulling you closer. you melt into him, impossibly closer than you already were.

he’s gentle with you, tentative but firm and you part your lips, letting him lick into your mouth. his tongue strokes softly over yours and you keen at the sensation. he pushes you onto your back, balancing on his elbow half hovering over you. your hair fans out onto the pillow, his soft fingers running through your strands, pushing them away from your flushed face. oscar pulls away, scanning your face.

“sorry.” you smile up at him, breathless.

“apology very much accepted. i’ve been wondering when that would happen.” he laughs incredulously.

“really?”

“what can i say? i’m irresistible.” he replies dryly, exercising his sense of humour that was a foundation of your friendship.

“yeah. you kinda are.” you giggle bashfully.

and then he’s kissing you again, pressing himself even closer to you. you welcome him in, wrapping your arms around his lean frame, feeling over his shoulders. he’s tense, restrained, groaning into you at the feeling of your hands raking over his back.

“we should stop.” he mumbles, noses bumping. you frown.

“why?”

“because you said earlier, you’re not ready for this and i’m… well, things are gonna get real awkward if we keep going.” he chokes out half a laugh, glancing down at his-

“oh.”

“yeah, i just, i don’t want to make you uncomfortable. we can go slow.”

“osc, i wasn’t ready with him,” you pause, collecting your thoughts. “but you’re not him.”

“i suppose that’s true.” he shrugs.

“then you better do something.”

oscar lays you back, climbing over you completely this time. his trails over your jaw, taking your chin between his fingers.

“are you sure about this? we can stop anytime, just say the words.”

“‘m sure, oscar. i want to do this with you.” you coo, reassuringly.

his lips run over your neck, your collarbone, and he mouths at the collar of the t-shirt that you’re wearing. his t-shirt. his.

“gonna take this off, yeah?” he asks, whispering low, right by your ear.

“yeah, please.” you say, your own hands running under his t-shirt and up his muscular back. he’s relaxed now, no tension between his shoulder blades, and so you push the material up, and he slips it over his head. his warm digits peel your shirt off, too, and you’re warm all over when his eyes trail over your chest.

you’d forgone a bra, ditching it when you’d arrived at his place, and his pupils are blown wide, hazel hues sparkling with desire. his hands slide up your ribcage, thumbing at the underside of your breasts, while he plants open mouthed kisses down your chest. your eyes flutter shut, gasping softly as he skims your nipple.

“oscar.” you breathe, the light whimper sending his blood rushing south.

“does that feel good?” he asks, searching your face for answers.

“more.” you sound strained, desperate, and he aches.

his sucks your nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue around the swollen bud. he toys with the other one, massaging your breast with his skilful fingers, tweaking and pulling until you’re panting beneath him. he pulls away with a pop, licking over to the other side, deciding to test your limits when he nips delicately at the peak. you moan, bucking your hips, hypersensitive to his every move.

you can feel how hard he is, his grey joggers growing tighter with every passing second.

“want all of you, osc.” you plead.

“need to get you ready for me first, okay honey?” he rubs circles into your sides, warm and calloused. you relax fully, lifting your hips.

oscar mouthed over your belly, peppering sunshine-like kisses down your abdomen until he finds the band of your loose shorts. he mumbles something into you navel about taking them off and you nod, enthusiastic and frantic. you can feel his smile branding your sensitive skin. the material glides down your thighs, pooling at your ankles, and you kick them away. he parts your thighs, making himself comfortable on his belly, and thumbs at the crease of your leg, toying with your panties.

he drags his pointer finger over your covered slit, up and down slowly, applying more pressure every time he brushes over your clit. oscar can see where you’re starting to seep through your panties and he stifles a low groan, anxious to peel the cotton off of your body, the final barrier separating him from you, so he does, pulling them slowly down your legs. he studies your face as he does, keeping his eyes firmly on yours. your lip catches between your teeth, aching as you watch, helpless and wet.

oscar kisses your hip bone, sucking gently until he’s stained it purple, and then his warm breath is fanning your cunt. your eyes squeeze shut.

“look at me, baby. gotta keep your eyes on me.” oscar mutters. your pussy clenches around nothing at the tone of his voice. you pry your eyes open, just about managing to prop yourself up on your elbows. “that’s it, honey. has anyone ever done this to you before?”

you shake your head, no. he smiles to himself, like he knows something you don’t, and dives in.

his tongue works in slow strokes, dragging through your slick with intent, eyes locked with yours. you must look like a deer in headlights, pupils blown, shocked with pleasure when you collapse against the mattress. he wraps his lips around your clit, sucking, tasting, and your legs go weak, splayed open all for him. you whimper as he tugs your clit between his teeth, just enough to graze over the sensitive nerves. it sends your hips flying, bucking wildly against his face.

“osc…” you breathe, squeezing your eyes shut.

“‘m gonna give you some more, is that okay?” he asks, nose bumping your clit.

“yes, please.” you don’t know what more is, but you need it like air.

you feel a finger glide over your sodden flesh, rubbing over your entrance. you sigh out, oh, anticipation and bliss sending white heat down your spine. he circles his finger around your opening, coating it in you, and carefully slides it in, feeling out for any sign of tension or discomfort. when you grind your hips onto the single digit, he knows you’re okay.

it feels good, better than anything you’d ever felt on your own, and you writhe against his bedspread. he thrusts a couple of times, experimenting, seeing what makes you squirm for him the right way, and when his finger curls, hooking deliciously, he knows he’s struck gold. you arch off the bed, searching for more, more, anything.

“another one.” you cry, begging, and oscar’s not one to tease. not yet, anyway.

a second finger joins the lonesome first, and he finds some pace, fucking into you faster. he scissors the digits, stretching you out for him, enjoying the pretty view. he’s achingly hard now, rocking discreetly into the mattress, losing his mind as he watches how you drip around his fingers. he wants another taste of you, addicted already to sweet, salty honey, so he has to finish you off, lap your mess off of his long fingers.

“i think- i think-“ you can’t get the words out, they’re lost on your tongue, but oscar knows what you mean.

“that’s it, baby. so good for me, doing so good. cum for me.” he spurs you on, drawing it out of you.

you let go, crashing biblically, the high sending you to heaven and back, two times over. he grinds his fingers, softer, just enough to help you through it and you chant his name like you’re praying at an alter. you know that you’ll never be over this. your oscar.

“holy shit.” you giggle, smiling lazily as you return to the world of the living. he’s licking his fingers clean; you could black out so easily.

“did you enjoy that?” he punctuates with a kiss to your belly, crawling up your body until he’s hovering over you.

“maybe you should do it again, just so that i can really make sure that i did.” you tease. your hand rakes through his hair, pushing it back off of his face. he’s grinning down at you, eyes fluttering shut. “that was amazing.” you whisper. he’s blushing when he kisses you, and then you are too, when you taste yourself on his tongue.

he moans against your lips, making you pull back. your hand leaves his brown strands, joining your other, which is currently voyaging down his back.

“you’re wearing too many clothes.” you whisper, lips bumping his as your hands slide under the waistband of his sweats. something desperate emits from the back of his throat. you push them over his hips, fisting the thick fabric, eager to have him bare on top of you once and for all. oscar helps, kicking them away, boxers too.

you can feel him, thick and wet between your thighs, his breathing uneven. your nails graze his hip and he jolts, collapsing on top of you, his full weight covering your keening body. he kisses into the crook of your neck, frantic; you need him deep, immediately, his urgent change in form leaving you flushed.

“you want me?” he whispers into your ear, leaving you shivering.

“so bad.” you pant.

“i’ll be gentle.” he promises.

he guides himself through your folds, slippery and warm, all for him. he nudges the head inside of you, hips stuttering at the blinding tightness. you gasp, but he catches it in his mouth, softly moulding his lips to yours as he pushes further. you open up for him, pliant, and when he eventually bottoms out, he holds himself there, letting you adjust.

“oh, fuck.” your eyes roll back, nails leaving crescent marks in his shoulders.

“so good for me, so pretty.” oscar grunts. “say when, baby.” he breathes, rubbing soothing circles into your hip.

“move.”

oscar rolls his hips, rocking you into the mattress. he hooks your knee over his waist, driving himself deeper and deeper with every thrust. you’re boneless, lost to the delectable stretch, to the way his cock seems to touch every part of you that makes you quiver.

“tell me how it feels.” oscar murmurs, grip tightening on your thigh.

“fuck, oscar, it’s so good. ‘m so glad it’s you.” your voice shakes, raw with emotion.

“me fucking too.” he mumbles, increasing his pace ever so slightly.

his thrusts lull into more of a grind, reaching your depths and revelling in the way you only get tighter for him. you’re spilling around him, already so close to meeting your end, and all it takes is the calloused pad of his thumb brushing your bundle of nerves to have you convulsing. you’re somewhere else entirely, on a whole other spiritual plane, utterly and completely his as he fucks you through your second orgasm.

when he spills, white hot and sweat slicked, he gushes endless hushed whines of your name. it sounds perfect when he says it like this, rolling off of his tongue with dire urgency.

his dampened hair falls over his darkened eyes, full of stars and total adoration. you’re smiling sleepily up at him like he’s made of sunshine. you always thought he was, and now you know that he most definitely is.

the most beautiful sunshine man.

“hi.” he whispers.

“hi.” you whisper back.

an intimacy, different to the one you’ve just shared, blossoms between you, encapsulating you here with him endlessly.

“i’m gonna clean you up, ‘n then we’re gonna order food.” he gazes fondly, stroking your hair.

“perfect.” you agree.

“put friends back on, i’m gonna run you a bath.” he begrudgingly stands from the bed, trailing towards the en-suite.

“you’re gonna join me in there, right?” you admire his naked frame as he disappears into the bathroom.

“obviously.” he pokes his head out once more to scoff, and you lay there, grinning like the worlds most lovesick idiot, your thoughts dulled by the sound of running water.

when the bath is full of hot water and too many bubbles, he gets in first, and you sink into the revitalising heat. oscar pulls you close, your back to his chest, kissing over your hairline as you mould yourself against him.

“thank god you broke in.”

-

oh i’m soft

-

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lemme know if you wanna be added or removed <3

[iamgonnagetyouback]

𝟷.𝟸𝚔 || 𝐌𝐑. 𝐅𝐋𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐘

♡ ︎ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ: You were successful at keeping Mr. Flopsy a secret from your boyfriends...until now.

♡ ︎ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢꜱ: None except loads of fluff

♡ ︎ꜱʜɪᴘ: poly!marauders x reader

You were a master of secrets. Keeping your relationship with the Marauders on the down low? Piece of cake. Sneaking into the boys' dorm after hours for late-night cuddles? Easy. But the real secret, the one that kept you on your toes every single night, was far fluffier—and far more embarrassing.

Your beloved stuffed animal.

It was a worn-out, floppy bunny you’d had since you were a kid. Its fur was matted from years of love, its ears uneven from countless bedtime adventures. You still slept with it every night, clutching it tight like a lifeline. Of course, there was no way you'd ever let your boyfriends know. They'd tease you mercilessly. Sirius, especially, with his "I’m-too-cool-for-everything" swagger, would have a field day.

You were certain you’d done an excellent job hiding your bunny… until tonight.

You all had decided to hang out at your dorm tonight and your heart picked up it's pace whenever any of them got close to the bed.

It was just your luck, then, that Peter was rummaging around on the floor, searching for a Chocolate Frog he swore he’d dropped earlier. “Where is it?” he muttered, crawling dangerously close to your bed.

You eyed him nervously, feeling your heart rate pick up.

"Maybe the frog decided to leave because it didn’t want to be eaten,” Sirius drawled from across the room, flicking the Quaffle up again.

"Very funny," Peter muttered, but then he froze. His eyes narrowed, focusing on something just under your bed. Slowly, he reached out and pulled at something soft.

Your heart dropped.

Peter tugged harder, and then—there it was, dangling by its floppy ear in his hand—your bunny. Your beloved, secret stuffed animal.

"Er…what’s this?” Peter asked, blinking at the well-worn toy. “I didn’t know we had a sixth member of the group?”

James whipped around, his hair now messier from his mirror battle, eyes wide. “Is that a stuffed bunny?”

Sirius burst out laughing, rolling off your roommate’s bed in a dramatic heap, holding his stomach. “Please tell me that’s not yours, love. Please.”

Remus looked up from his book, trying and failing to hide a grin. “Well, this is a new revelation.”

You flushed furiously and snatched the bunny from Peter’s hand. "I-it's not what it looks like!" you stammered, clutching the toy to your chest.

“Oh, it’s exactly what it looks like,” James smirked, stepping closer with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Our very own tough, cool Y/N still sleeps with a stuffed animal."

Sirius was laughing so hard he was practically wheezing by now. “A bunny no less! Oh, this is rich.”

You glared at him, trying to defend yourself. “It’s… it’s for comfort!”

James, now fully in on the teasing, nudged you playfully. “We should’ve known. You’re a secret softie.”

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t help the smile tugging at your lips. “Yeah, yeah, laugh it up.”

Peter was still looking at the bunny like it was some rare magical creature. "I’ve got to admit, I didn’t see this coming.”

Before you could snap back, James swooped in, holding the bunny up again. “What’s its name?” he teased, eyes twinkling.

You groaned. “It doesn’t have a name.”

“Oh, come on,” Sirius said, finally catching his breath. “Everything has a name.”

"Yeah, like James’ hair gel,” Remus added, smirking.

James shot him a look, but Peter nodded, still curious. “Does it have a backstory?”

You groan, face burning. “I… it’s just—fine. His name is Mr. Flopsy. Happy?”

There was a split second of silence before chaos erupted.

“Mr. Flopsy?” Sirius howled, flopping back onto the floor dramatically. James, meanwhile, had lost the ability to stand and was now clinging to the bedpost for support.

“Merlin’s beard, darling,” James choked out between fits of laughter. “That’s…that’s adorable, and so unexpected!”

Remus, though, just gave you a soft smile, clearly more charmed than he wanted to admit. “It’s not that embarrassing,” he said, though the twitch of his lips betrayed him.

You sighed heavily, knowing there was no way out of this one. “Fine, yes, I still sleep with Mr. Flopsy. Happy?”

Sirius crawled up onto your bed, wiping a tear from his eye. “Absolutely. But, darling, now that we know about Mr. Flopsy, you’re going to have to share.”

You glared at him. “What?”

“Oh, yeah,” James said, now fully recovered from his laughing fit. “I think Mr. Flopsy is part of the group now. We’ll have joint custody.”

Peter nodded seriously. “I get him on Thursdays.”

“Fridays are mine!” James declared, smirking.

Remus chuckled and shook his head, still watching you fondly. “This is going to be the softest thing in this dorm, and I’m including you lot.”

Sirius grinned and pulled you into a side hug. “Don’t worry, love. We’ll take very good care of Mr. Flopsy. And of you.”

You couldn’t help but laugh despite yourself, rolling your eyes at them. “Fine. But if you rip him, there will be consequences.”

They all nodded with mock-seriousness, Peter saluting you. “Mr. Flopsy will be protected at all costs.”

And just like that, Mr. Flopsy became the official mascot of the Marauders.

[stevebabey]

As Steve had found, sleeping beside Eddie is perhaps the most fantastic nightmare-repellant out there.

It’s why it’s so surprising when Steve lurches out of his sleep, sudden and unexpected. He startles a bit, confusion muddling in his brain as it braces for the familiar wash of terror… that never comes.

Instead of feeling doused in cold water, gasping and aghast, there’s a grogginess moving through his veins— something else, besides a nightmare, has woken him up.

It takes him another second to realise it’s Eddie’s hand. Eddie’s hand on his face.

“Wuh?” Steve rasps out.

He blinks slowly, the ceiling bleeding into his field of vision. It’s still dark out, indicated by the faint amber glow of streetlights spilling through the slit in the curtains. As sleep trickles out of his system, confusion takes it place — what is Eddie’s hand doing on his face?

As if the thought summons the action, Eddie’s hand on his face shifts, splaying across his cheek with a soft slap. He pats Steve’s cheek once, twice.

“Gone skip to town, baby.” Eddie says loudly.

What? Steve feels his face screw up, brows drawn together as he tries to make sense what Eddie’s just said. Gone to what? He pushes the hand off his face and lifts his head, peering across the darkness to the other side of the bed.

“What?”

“The river rapids told ‘em.” Eddie says, making no sense.

Steve squints and, wait, holy shit, is Eddie still asleep? A grin sneaks onto his face and just to be sure, he leans across and waves his hand an inch above Eddie’s nose. Nothing, not even a twitch. Holy shit.

“Told them what?” Steve asks, shifting up on one elbow to see if Eddie will respond.

“Where to go.” Eddie says, matter-of-factly, his eyebrows raising and falling as he says.

Steve snorts, his head ducking forward to smother it, even though Eddie seems far from waking. In fact, he snuffles a bit and turns his head towards Steve, nosing into the pillow. Steve can see his feet wiggling beneath the covers.

“Who are you talking to?”

“Mmf,” Eddie mumbles into the pillow. “Muffin man.”

“The muffin man?”

“What’s it to ya?”

Steve guffaws at the sudden Cockney accent that’s taken over Eddie’s voice. It makes him laugh so much that, incidentally, it’s loud enough to wake the other up. Steve’s pressing his face into his pillow, silent laughter shaking his frame, when Eddie’s bleary “…Steve?” reaches his ears.

He can’t stop laughing, a funny sounding squawk coming out his throat the moment he tries to explain. Eddie takes it the wrong way, a hand on Steve’s shoulder in a moment, that soft hushing voice dipped in sleep. “Steve? Baby? Was it another one?”

Steve rolls his face out so Eddie can see his stupid smile, can hear his laughter escaping out into the quiet night. He sees Eddie freeze as realisation moves slowly through him.

“You’re… laughing?”

It’s said with a breath of relief and Eddie’s entire body relaxes a bit. He swipes his hand up Steve’s shoulder, thumbing gently at his neck. “What? What’s s’funny?”

“You—” Steve manages to wheeze out one word. “—Sleeptalking.”

The two words are instantaneous, Eddie’s entire frame flopping down back onto the bed, bursting into his own sleepy giggles. Apparently, this is not the first time someone’s had this conversation with him.

“You fucking slept-talked, man.” Steve continues, his laughter finally beginning to die down. He’s still grinning, especially at the mirrored mutual, but slightly embarrassed, joy on Eddie’s face.

“It only happens sometimes,” Eddie admits bashfully. He grins across the pillow at Steve, wiping at one of his eyes tiredly. “When I sleep real deep.”

He lets out a deep yawn as if to prove it and Steve can’t help but yawn too. Damn, he was having a really good sleep— still, he can’t be mad at being woken for this.

“What exactly I’d say?”

“Ah, just,” Steve considers the truth and then discards it for a lie. “Talkin’ about how much you love my ass.”

Eddie’s cheeks turn red enough that it can be seen even in the dim light of the nighttime. He groans and buries his face in the pillow for a moment, before digging it back out. He darts across the sheets, pressing a quick kiss to Steve’s shoulder.

“Well, it’s true.” He says, before turning over. His voice is a little muffled with his face turned away. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, if I get back to sleep quick enough, I’ll have the same dream.”

Steve’s sure he’s got that dopey smile on his face that labels him positively whipped. He snuggles closer anyways, hand crawling over the dip in Eddie’s waist to tuck in, his body pressing up flush behind Eddie’s, a pair of perfect spoons.

“I’ll let you get back to that then, baby.” Steve hums, planting his own kiss on Eddie’s shoulder. Sleep claims them both, Eddie first and Steve… much later. But, well, Steve figures he’s lost sleep over a lot of things worse than this.

—

saw sleeptalking (and walking) eddie in this piece by @dwobbitfromtheshire and i literally. i was thinking bout sleeptalking eddie all day like headcanon freaking accepted— that boy talks stupid shit in his sleep 🫶 hope it’s ok to tag u! i wanted to give u credit

[alphajocklover]

My and my 2 straight friends are doing a watch party for the spooky season. We try to find some movies generally unheard of, doesn't mean they are always good tho. I wondered if you had any idea to spice up 3 gamer's night, and maybe more. And I think this is deserving of a trick.

So, I have some good news and some bad news. The bad news is that, unless something changes soon, no one is going to go to your watch party. You and your two friends you planned it with, Liam and Tyler, are the only three who show up, and the party will be a complete flop. It’s not as bad as it sounds though. You three have a great night, watching bad movies, playing video games, making inside jokes and eating junk food and candy. It was a little embarrassing that no one else came, but all in all it wasn’t a bad night.

The good news is that it’s not too late. Your night doesn’t have to be just ‘not a bad night.’ You asked for something to spice up the night, and I’m going to give it to you. 

I did a little research into you and your friends before I sent this out. No offense, but you guys are kind of movie snobs. It’s not unexpected that you’re intense about movies, given that you’re all film students, it’s just that you take it a bit too far. You guys don’t mean to, but you tend to pick apart and criticize movies people like until you take all the fun out of it, only to then rave about bad movies because to you they were so bad it was hilarious. That's the main reason everyone skipped out on your watch party, because they knew you’d pick unusual, and sometimes bad, movies. So the best way to fix your problem? If your movie choices are driving people away, put on something else! I know it sounds awful to you. Putting on something else to bring people in means putting on some dumb, overplayed mainstream movie you’d have to suffer through the entire night. Watching some overhyped dumb cash grab just to make your watch part more popular doesn’t just sound shallow, it sounds unbearable. But you’re going to have to trust me on this. This movie isn’t popular, it’s not that good, and it will change your life. ‘Brad, Chad, and Vlad’ Isn’t a movie most people have heard of. No one in your school's film department will probably have heard anything about it. It’s an 80’s Halloween comedy about two frat boys, Brad and Chad, who accidentally awaken a vampire, Vlad, and end up getting into a bunch of college shenanigans with the ancient bloodsucker. There’s even a classic 80’s makeover scene where the vampire gets a frat boy makeover. As you, Liam and Tyler watch the movie, just to check it out before the party, you can help but laugh at how cheesy the whole thing is! It’s like if a frat boy tried to make a scary movie, and somehow hit comedy gold. As the movie continues, you start to find some of this stuff… honestly funny. The part where Vlad uses his powers to scare a bunch of nerds made you and your friends laugh loudly, and the storyline about Brad and Chad almost getting kicked off the football team was strangely… relatable? You actually felt for the two dumb jocks, and cheered as they beat the nerdy chemistry club slash dark magic cult and freed Vlad from his curse. As the three friends, now all able to be together in the sunlight, flex their muscles cockily for their sorority girl love interest, you and your bros Lee and Ty couldn’t help but flex too, celebrating the movie's end with your solid meaty muscles shining in the light of the TV.

You and your best bros had fucking loved the movie, and you knew the rest of the frat would love to see it. You had found the perfect movie for the party, which was great considering the 3 of you knew nothing about movies. The three bisexual sports majors barely knew how to take a good enough video for their shared OnlyFans. Not that it mattered. People didn’t pay to watch you three fuck for the camera quality.

[thir10th]

Stepping in - October writing challenge day 5

summary: Emily Prentiss is full of secrets, even when you think you have the key to all of them, she still manages to surprise you. tw: idek why i bother adding these anymore, but anyway, just a pit suggestive towards the end a/n: this one’s a bit shorter, sorry for that. I also might take a break from this if this one flops too. If you want me to keep writing then remember any kind of feedback is greatly appreciated!

"Honey! I'm home" you sing-sang entering through the door of her apartment. Emily doesn't answer, just like she hadn't answered the bell that you pressed before using the key she had given you to enter yourself.

"Emily! I got takeout, and a piece of cake for dessert." You try again, still no answer

"I was gonna bring wine, but I thought you would have better choices than whatever i could come up with, anyway" you try again, still no answer.

Leaving the bags on the kitchen table, you say hello to Sergio, who welcomes you by wrapping himself around your legs "Hey bud, where's your mom?" you ask him, scratching his head.

Still nothing, of course Sergio hadn't answered, not even meowed, so you walk around trying to find your girlfriend, wondering if she had gone out.

On your way through the hall, you notice the muffled sound of water running, and you follow it to the bathroom to finally find your girlfriend in the shower.

However, it's the other sound that surprises you, along with the shower, you can hear Emily's voice, and she is singing to herself, her voice soft and sweet, but she's fully into it, unaware that you have entered the apartment, and that you're listening.

You lean against the bathroom door, grinning at the soft and melodic sound of your girlfriends voice. You can't help but to feel a bit guilty about taking a peak like that, but you can't really help it, you had never heard Emily sing.

“Oh wow, so this is where you’ve been hiding your secret talent.” you finally say.

Emily's singing abruptly stops when she finally hears you “What the—?! You were eavesdropping?” she says startled by your sudden intrusion.

You laugh, opening the door just a crack “Eavesdropping? No, just appreciating the unexpected concert. You have a beautiful voice, you know.”

She mocks groaning, but you can hear her laughing “Ugh, no way. It’s terrible. Now I’m embarrassed.”

“Well, now that you’ve been caught, you might as well finish the song. You can’t leave your audience hanging.” You tease her.

“Oh, you want a private performance, huh?” Emily says playfully.

You lean against the doorframe. “I mean, I wouldn't say no.”

"Hey and by the way, what are you doing here, sneaking around? Thought I locked the door.” She says, trying to change the subject.

You smirk as you take a step inside the bathroom “I have a key, remember? Thought I’d surprise you with some takeout, but you’re the one full of surprises, I mean, how could i not know you sang in the shower baby?” You still can't shake your excitement of your new discovery away.

“Okay, maybe I do sing sometimes… when I think I’m alone. But you can’t tell anyone.” She says, peaking out from behind the shower screen with a grin.

“Your secret’s safe with me, as long as I get an encore.” you tease, crossing your arms.

“Why do I feel like I’m gonna regret giving you a key?” she says mocking an exasperated sigh.

You step closer “You love it and you know it.”

“You’re right. I do.” her voice lowers playfully “And I love it even more when you show up like this, without warning.”

“Oh, yeah?” you tild your head, amused.

“Yeah. You know… we still have time before dinner. Why don’t you get in here with me?” Her tone turns suggestive, her hand reaching out to you.

You raise an eyebrow, pretending to sound hesitant “Hmm, I don’t know… I mean, I came all the way here for you to sing to me, not the other way around.”

Emily laughs and shakes her head, tugging you gently closer “Trust me, I’ll make it worth your while.” her voice drops even lower “Now get in here before I drag you in myself.”

“Well, when you put it like that…” you grin, leaning into her touch.

She is already eager, her hands slipping to the hem of your shirt, tugging it up “Let me help you with that.” her hands move quickly, gently, undressing you with a soft urgency.

You laugh softly as she pulls your shirt off “Wow, you’re not wasting any time, huh?”

Emily grinning as she continues undressing you, her voice soft but teasing “Nope. I’ve got you here now, and I’m not letting you get away that easily.”

You step into the shower with her, the warm water cascading over both of you “I guess I should interrupt your shower more often.”

Emily wraps her arms around you, pulling you in closer “You should. But next time, maybe warn me. Or don’t… I kind of like being caught off guard.”

“Good to know.” you say, smiling against her lips.

Emily kisses you back eagerly, her hands exploring your skin under the water “Now… where were we?”

The warm water streams down as Emily pulls you closer, her arms wrapping securely around your waist, her lips barely leaving yours. She finally breaks the kiss, leaning back just enough to look into your eyes, her hands resting on your hips.

“You know,” she murmurs, her voice soft and filled with affection, “you walking into my apartment like it’s yours… it drives me crazy. In the best way.”

You smile, brushing a strand of wet hair away from her face. “I mean, it kinda feels like home now.”

Emily’s eyes soften even more at your words. She presses a kiss to your forehead. “It is your home, whenever you want it to be.”

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──��

[before-it-felt-like-a-sin]

Nat would be the type of friend to 'teach you how to kiss' just as an excuse to be ur first kiss tbh

she'd immediately laugh when you gave no idea what you're doing, but she'd keep kissing u anyway

anyways soft!nat is cannon and my mind won't be changed

About You

Ugh anon this is so real 😭😭 my bitch ass has never kissed anyone (who's shocked) and I've been thinking about Nat being r's first kiss for like WEEKS.

Small Nat being your first kiss blurb <3

--------------------------------------------------------

"Dude. No, I'm saying it's embarrassing. How many seniors in high school have never been kissed? Not that many." You're lying on your bed, staring up at the ceiling, as Natalie sits at your desk.

"I'll kiss you. Teach you how to do it so when there's an actual person you want to kiss, you'll know how." You sit up to look at her, and she looks kind of serious about it.

"I can't tell if you're making fun of me or not," you reply, swinging your legs off the bed and walking over to your mirror.

"I'm being serious! People do this all the time. Friends kiss each other for practice." She shrugs, looking over at you.

You contemplate for a moment, not really knowing what to do in this situation. Sure, she was your best friend. But you wanted to kiss her in a not-so-friendly way.

Eventually, your desire to kiss her won out over your want for it to be romantic. You huffed and sat down on the edge of the bed, facing her as she sat on your desk chair.

"Fine. But when I'm inevitably shit at kissing you can't make fun of me."

She nods and moves from the chair to the bed next to you.

"I won't make fun of you to anyone else." She grins, and you roll your eyes.

"Well, I guess that's the best I can ask for with you."

She smiles and leans forward, and you freeze. When she's millimeters away from your lips, she cups your face and whispers "relax" before pressing your lips together.

For a moment, you're still frozen. You don't know what to do, or where to put your hands. Nothing. Natalie laughs against your mouth, and you pull away.

"Sorry, sorry. Seriously, though, dude. You have to relax. It's just me, you know I won't judge you." She looks genuinely apologetic, and she takes one of your hands in hers.

"I just- where do I put my hands? What do I even do?"

"Jesus, you don't have to think about it that much. This is supposed to be fun. Just do what feels right to you, I guess? Again, it's just me."

You sigh, nodding. She's right, it is just her. She leans in again, and this time you try to relax. You still have no idea what to do with your hands, but she takes one of them and moves it to the back of her head.

She's soft with the kiss, more gentle than you'd ever seen her. It was nice honestly, the warm feeling of her lips on yours, the way she kept doing things at your pace. When you parted your lips a bit, she tentatively poked her tongue into your mouth. You didn't hate the feeling, but it was unexpected.

The two of you continue like that for a few moments before she pulls away. She smiles, and you blush.

"Not bad for your first time," she teases, flopping back onto your bed.

"Wow. Thank you so much." You roll your eyes and lie down next to her, turning your head to look at her face.

"We can keep practicing." She shifts to her side, looking at you.

You smile, but she suddenly turns serious.

"I want to keep kissing you." She looks almost nervous, and you've never seen her look so vulnerable before. "I didn't kiss you just because I thought you'd be more comfortable with practice. I wanted to kiss you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You reach for her hand and intertwine your fingers, trying to fight the fluttering feeling in your stomach.

"Good. I want to keep kissing you too."

[aetherghouls]

ghostsoap coffee shop au where Soap has been down bad for the past 2 years since he started working at the coffee shop and first saw the hot tattoo artist working across the street, but he had never made any moves because 1. he doesn't even know if Ghost is interested in men (or anyone, really) and 2. the guy seems too reserved to enjoy someone throwing themself at him, so instead, he just settled for small talk every time, trying to make Simon warm up to him slowly. They became friends, of course, no one could resist Johnny and his charm, even if the Brit always denied it and stayed rough around the edges. And then a new barista comes into the picture, a gorgeous one. They were all over Ghost the second they saw him.

To say that his blood was boiling every time he saw that would be an understatement, a big one. There was nothing in those moments he hated more and if looks could kill, the new barista would be long dead. Too bad it didn't work. Too bad Soap, instead of just telling Ghost he liked him, watched the way the new one was flirting with Simon so openly and the tattoo artist was playing into it.

Johnny had became so fucking grumpy after a week of that, everyone noticed, especially Ghost, because he was on the recieving end of it. And if there was one thing Johnny could do, it was being passive aggressive while mad.

Don't be fooled though, he wasn't unprofessional, but he definitely cut the small talk, turned down Ghost every time he tried to chat, gods, he even made up tasks to do just do he didn't have to be around Ghost and the new guy if they had a shift together and the artist came around. Everyone noticed.

Gaz tried asking, of course, the good friend he is. He knew Johnny fancied Simon, so the sudden change of hearts was unexpected until he saw the new barista with Ghost. It all made sense suddenly.

That's how Kyle came up with a way to force Johnny to finally talk to Simon.

To be fair, it wasn't hard, convincing his friend. The hardest part was making him admit that he was jealous, then it all went smoothly. Soap was of course, still grumpy and still angry with Ghost for not putting two and two together, but Kyle, gods bless this man's soul for putting up with it all, could be really persuasive.

And that's how, through a needlessly complicated and twisted plan that could have been executed in many more simple ways, Simon finally took a hint as to why his favourite barista was mad at him, and – of course – he did his best to make up for it. Not openly, he wasn't some soppy teenage boy that would turn into a puddle when someone he fancied was angry. It was just simply not him to act that way. So, instead, he left little gifts for Soap, nothing overly elaborate, he'd, for example, buy something to eat with his coffee, things he knew Jonny enjoyed and leave them for the Scot, instead of taking them, always brushing it off as "not having enough time to eat" when he finished his drinks.

It took a good month for John MacTavish to get over it, over thirty days of Simon doing little things for him so the barista would go back to his previous self. Him and Ghost may and may not have gone out after that, too, but that's a story for another day.

I wrote this at work mostly lmao (I don't even work at a coffee shop) (don't eat me it's the first writing I've posted properly in years) (you won't see me here for months after this 🫶)

it's embarrassing to post anything on Tumblr so if this flops I'm deleting my account and burying myself 3 feet under

[fallinnflower]

01:01

mingyu x reader (fluff, hurt/comfort?, non-idol!au)

wc: 1.3k

a writing exercise i did with a friend using this prompt list and the prompts "when we first fell in love all of those years ago, your father would say i was too sweet for my own good. maybe he was right." and "i'm the one you've been looking for."

a/n: thanks everyone for being patient with me, i'm still working on some big projects (vampire!DPR Ian and also vampire!BamBam [same universe], vampire!Jun, part 2 of river god!Wonpil, a Wonwoo fic based loosely on Kiki's Delivery Service... send help) in the works but wanted to post a little something <3

As soon as you get into your apartment's living room, you flop onto the couch on your stomach, paying no mind to the makeup you're probably smudging onto the throw pillow. Now just isn't the time. Future you can worry about cleaning it. 

Familiar footsteps follow you into the living room and a knee gently nudges the side of your stomach; you roll so your back is pressed against the back of the couch and Mingyu can lie down in the remaining space. He settles on his side, facing you with his hand propping up his head. His eyes glimmer slightly, and he gives you a wry smile,

"Well, happy anniversary," he says. You groan and look away from him, pressing your face into the couch cushions. He chuckles at your exaggerated reaction and gently reaches over to start undoing the elaborate updo you'd pinned your hair into. 

"What a night," he continues, pulling the bobby pins out one by one. You still refuse to look up, embarrassed and frustrated. 

It wasn't like it was anyone's fault, really, that all your evening plans had gone to total shit. First was the unexpected downpour that ruined your plans of a nice walk before dinner forcing you to frantically hail a cab while huddled under his expensive suit jacket. You'd already felt apologetic over that, and then your distracted cab driver missed a turn, which you thought was bad enough because you would be late for the reservation at this rate. 

But then it had to get worse (because of course it had to get worse) when the cabbie rear-ended another car because they were too busy yelling at someone on the phone. The two of you had to spend another two hours huddled under a shop awning, answering questions for the police officers that came to assess the scene. Thankfully, nobody was seriously hurt, but you still cried so much that everyone kept asking if you needed them to call paramedics. 

That was part of why you didn't want to look at Mingyu. No doubt your face was a mess, not to mention your hair, which he was now methodically freeing from the style you had spent so long on. 

You'd just wanted it to be perfect. You only have one first wedding anniversary, after all. To avoid crying more, you keep your face pressed into the cushions, not responding to your husband. More gently, then, he asks,

"Hey, you're sure you're okay, right?" You sniffle. Goddamnit. 

"Yeah," you croak. "I just… feel bad." Mingyu chuckles. 

"I know, but it isn't your fault," he reassures you. It should make you feel better, but it doesn't. You know Mingyu isn't bothered — this sort of thing doesn't faze him quite like it does you — but you still feel anxious and upset. Is this some kind of warning of impending doom in your relationship? Just the thought makes you feel sick to your stomach. 

You finally turn your face again so you can breathe more easily and find Mingyu smiling at you, concern still clear in his eyes. The couch cushion feels rough against your cheek, still a bit sensitive from all the crying and being out in the cold. 

"I think we have ramen," Mingyu says. "Should I make some? Are you hungry?" Your lower lip trembles as tears start welling up again, and this time you press your forehead into Mingyu's shoulder to hide your face. 

"How are you so calm?" you sputter. "How are you not— not upset?" 

"What, upset at you? You didn't do anything. And the driver didn't get away with being reckless, so I don't need to worry about that, either," he says calmly. When you only continue to sniffle pathetically, he changes his approach a bit,

"Or maybe I'm just too nice. I still remember when we first fell in love all of those years ago, your father would say I was too sweet for my own good. Maybe he was right."

You let out an extremely undignified snort and lift your head to look at him. 

"As if. My dad never said anything like that," you tease. "Plus, 'all those years ago?' It's not like we met as kids or something. We met in college." Mingyu pouts at you, but his eyes glimmer playfully. 

"It sounds so much less romantic when you say that," he whines. 

"Well, you've always been the romantic one," you retort, but Mingyu is quick to counter you,

"No, no— I still remember that letter you wrote me when the semester was ending, when you said I was the one you'd been looking for—"

"Shut up!" you cry, placing your hands over his mouth. On top of everything else tonight, you don't want to be reminded of your embarrassing confession via love letter from years ago. You'd been a lovestruck student afraid you would lose your chance forever when you wrote that letter, and certainly hadn't expected that Mingyu had also been harboring a secret crush on you that would lead to marriage. It had been corny and sappy all because you thought you wouldn't see him again! Oh, how your actions had come back to haunt you. 

You can feel Mingyu smiling under your palms, and it only makes your face get hotter. Eventually, you remove your hands from his face and snuggle up closer to his chest, pressing your forehead into his shoulder again. 

"You're so annoying," you murmur, and you can feel the laughter reverberate through Mingyu's chest as he winds an arm around you. 

"But you still married me," he says. You smile. It still gives you butterflies, thinking of Mingyu as your husband, still so fresh a sensation. It's only been a year, after all. 

"Yeah," you reply. "I did."

Mingyu holds you for a few minutes, gently combing his fingers through your hair as you calm down. Eventually, he broaches the subject of dinner again, now that it's been hours since you were supposed to have eaten. 

"Do you want to shower while I make the ramen?" he asks, and you nod. Mingyu gets up off the couch as you sit up and stretch, noticing the lingering dampness in your hair and dress. A shower definitely sounds nice. You start making your way down the hallway, then turn back to face the living room. 

You watch as Mingyu attempts to straighten out his crumpled, damp button-down shirt, and smile to yourself. 

"Actually," you start, causing Mingyu to stop what he was doing and look up at you out of curiosity. "Do you… wanna join me? It's our anniversary, after all." You can feel your face warming up, but it's worth the slight embarrassment just to see the surprise on your husband's face. Sometimes he can seem so innocent. 

It only takes him a moment to snap out of it though, and cross the living room to meet you in the hallway with a broad grin. He takes your face in his hands and kisses you without hesitation.

"That sounds perfect," he says, practically purring, and you let out a surprised yelp when he suddenly scoops you up bridal style. You throw your arms around his neck and lean against him, giggling. As you look up into his face, all your irritation and upset from earlier melts away. Why should it matter if you went to a fancy restaurant or just ate ramen at home? All you want is to be together — that's why you got married. 

As Mingyu sets you down in the bathroom, you keep your arms looped around his neck and give him a kiss of your own. 

"Happy first anniversary, Gyu." He smiles that big, toothy grin you love so much, the one that makes him look like a happy puppy. 

"Happy anniversary, Y/N. The first of many."

It turns out to be a pretty good night, after all.

[fanartandfanfiction]

Sick

Inspired by @ellivenollivander and @damn-it-a-hogwarts-legacy-blog

Ominis is sick and you’ve stepped in to take care of him.

Word count: 1773 SFW, just some cute fluff

—————————————

“ACHOO!” Ominis sneezed into the sleeve of his robe.

“Watch it, mate! You nearly sneezed on me!” Sebastian grumbled.

“I’m sorry, it’s not like I could SEE YOU.”

“Why don’t you just give up and go see Nurse Blainey?”

“I don’t NEED to see nurse Blainey. I’m not-“ his sentence was cut off with another sneeze.

“At least go to bed. I’ll tell your professors you’re sick. Everyone would much prefer you keep your germs to yourself.”

“I feel like I should sneeze on you on purpose now.” Ominis grumbled. Though going back to bed did sound pretty great, since navigating without sight was its own challenge, and adding dizziness to the mix wasn’t helping.

He went back to his dorm and flopped down on his bed. He didn’t even bother changing out of his school clothes. He coughed into his pillow and drifted off to sleep.

Some time later, he was woken to the sound of a knock. “It’s open!” He shouted, though slightly muffled.

“Ominis? It’s me.” You said as you cracked open the door.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” He sat up and sniffed.

“Sebastian said you were sick. I’m here to help.”

Ominis smiled sweetly at you. “Thank you, but I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.” He stood up from his bed and stumbled. You grabbed onto him to steady him.

“Ominis! You’re burning up!” You pressed your hand to his forehead. He jumped at the unexpected touch, but then leaned into your hand.

“Am I? Because frankly it feels like I’m in a refrigerator.”

“You need to get back in bed. Do you want to change into pajamas? I can step out.”

“Sure.” Ominis stepped toward his dresser and staggered again.

“Ok, change of plans. Sit down, I’ll get them.” You led him to the bed and sat him down in the side. You went over to his dresser and opened a drawer, your cheeks coloring a bit as you looked at his underwear.

“Third drawer.” He grumbled. You opened the third drawer and chuckled.

“What?”

“This is the most neatly organized pajama drawer I’ve ever seen. I don’t know why I’m surprised.” You pulled out a soft T-shirt (that you kind of wanted to steal) and plaid green pajama pants. “Alright, here we go.” You reached for his shirt button and he jumped.

“What are you doing?!”

“Unbuttoning your shirt?” You reached for it again.

His eyes widened. “You are NOT changing my clothes. I’ll do it.” He stood up and stumbled, clutching his head. “Ugh, my ears are ringing and I’m terribly dizzy.” He attempted to unbutton his shirt and his hands were shaking. He hoped you would attribute it to being sick, and not the idea of you undressing him.

“That’s what I’m here for. Now, let me help you.”

Ominis’ cheeks were tinted pink as you began unbuttoning his shirt. You slid it off his shoulders, briefly admiring his chiseled abdomen. You knew he was fit, but DAMN.

“Are you done staring?” He smirked.

“Sorry. Put your arms up.” He sighed and put his arms up, and you tugged the shirt on over his head. “Alright, um, what about pants?”

“I’m not letting you take my pants off!” This was embarrassing enough.

“Sit on the edge of the bed. I’ll step out, just give a shout when you’re done.” You placed the pajama pants in his hand and left the room. You leaned against the door and exhaled. You thought you’d done well at hiding your crush on your friend, but now that you knew what he looked like without a shirt on, it was going to be much more difficult.

“Alright, you can come back.”

You entered and smiled at Ominis in his pajamas. You hadn’t thought he could get any cuter. You were wrong. “Ok, mister. Into bed with you.”

“You don’t have to speak to me like a child.” He grumbled. You helped him under the covers and he was shivering.

“I made a stop by the hospital wing on my way here. This will help with the fever.” You pressed a vial into his hand. He downed it and made a face. “Fair warning, it’ll make you drowsy. Nurse Blainey said you might feel a bit funny too, it’s pretty strong.”

“I feel fine. My tongue is fuzzy.” He began sticking out his tongue and touching it.

“Oh dear. Maybe you should get some rest. I’ll leave you alone.”

“You’re leaving?” He said, looking like a scared child.

“I didn’t know if you wanted me to stay with you or not.”

“I don’t want to be by myself.” He pouted.

“That’s fine.” You smiled. “I suppose I can conjure a chair.”

“Will you sit with me?” He patted the bed. He looked adorable, and you just wanted to hug him.

“Of course.” You walked over to his bed and sat beside him.

“I’m f-freezing.” His teeth were chattering.

“Come here, I’ve got you.” You reached for him and he leaned away.

“I don’t want to get you sick.”

“Don’t worry, I rarely get sick. Your fever will come down soon. In the meantime, you can share my body heat.” You reached for him and this time he let you pull him over. You blushed as his head rested on your chest. His body was shaking and you held him tightly.

“I feel awful.” He whined.

“I know.” You began stroking his hair and he sighed contendedly. If it weren’t for the damn flu, this was heaven. He could hear your heart beating, and it soothed him, as well as the rise and fall of your chest with each breath. Your hand felt wonderful as you stroked his hair.

He couldn’t remember a single time in his life he’d been comforted like this. If you got sick at the Gaunt house, you were quarantined to your room and fended for yourself. His father had been furious once when he caught the flu from Ominis. He shuddered as he remembered his harsh punishment.

“Are you still cold?” You asked. You pulled the covers tighter around him and rested your head on his. “You’ll feel better soon, I promise.”

He snuggled tighter against you. He felt so safe, so loved…

Come to think of it, you were one of the only people that touched him. He preferred it that way, but didn’t mind one bit when you’d take his hand to lead him somewhere or bump his leg under the table to wake him up during history of magic. There was something so wonderful about your touch. It would be easy to get addicted to.

At some point he drifted off to sleep, waking to the feeling of a cool rag on his forehead. Why was he so hot?

“Your fever is coming down. The cool washcloth should help.” You’d been leaning over him and began to walk away. He let out a small whimpering sound that broke your heart. “I’m right here.” You ran your fingers through his hair.

“Don’t leave.” He whined.

“I’m not.”

“You did!” He pouted. You smiled at his pouty demeanor. You walked back around to the other side of the bed and got in it again.

Ominis immediately scooted over to cuddle you again. “Will you rub my head again?”

“Of course.” You began working your fingers through his hair again and he sighed.

“Promise you won’t leave”

“I won’t.” You smiled down at him. Ominis surprised you by wrapping both arms around you and pulling you close. The poor boy was miserable.

You hated to wake him up, he was sleeping so peacefully, but it was lunchtime and he needed to eat.

“Ominis.” You whispered softly and stroked his hair. “Wake up, Omi.”

He grumbled in response and buried his head in your chest.

“You need to eat and stay hydrated.”

“Not hungry.” He mumbled.

“That’s too bad. Sebastian is bringing us lunch.”

“Stay with me until he gets here.”

“I will.” You looked down and saw a wide grin on his face. “Why are you smiling?”

“I like it when you take care of me. No one has ever done that.”

It broke your heart, thinking of your own mother caring for you when you were sick. You couldn’t imagine never having anyone take care of you.

“You deserve to be taken care of.”

Ominis got very still and you wondered if he’d fallen asleep again. Then you felt a tear drop on your arm. “Omi?”

“Say it again.”

You hugged him tightly. “You deserve to be taken care of.”

You felt more tears hit your arm and you wanted to kiss them away. “Ominis. Look at me.”

“I’d love to, but I can’t.” He smirked.

“So sick and still so much attitude.” You chuckled. He looked up at you and you touched his cheek. “You deserve to be taken care of. You deserve to be loved. You deserve all the happiness in the world, Ominis, and if I could give it to you, I would.”

His expression was hard to read and you were afraid you’d overstepped. Then he smiled. “You already give me so much happiness. More than I ever expected to have.”

“Really?”

Ominis sniffed and sat up. “Perhaps this isn’t the best time but that cold medicine has made me feel a bit brave. I am hopelessly in love with you, Y/n. I’m sorry if that makes you uncomfortable but I can’t keep it hidden any longer. I-“

You cut off his words with a kiss. He kissed you back at first, then shoved you back. “What are you doing, you maniac?! You’ll most definitely get the flu if you kiss me!”

“Oh well. We can be sick together.” You kissed him again, then held him to you.

“Am I interrupting?” Sebastian asked from the doorway.

“Yes.” Ominis grumbled.

“Merlin, if both of you get sick, don’t expect me to coddle you.”

“Oh good, you brought lunch! Come here, Sebastian, let me give you a thank you hug.”

“Absolutely not.”

“Come on, we can all be sick together!”

“Keep your germs to yourself!” Sebastian shouted as you chased after him. Ominis smiled to himself as he heard your laughter. Perhaps this flu was the best thing to happen to him.

-two days later-

You blew your nose while Ominis ran his fingers through your hair. “I’m sorry, love.”

“Don’t be, I’d do it again!” You grinned as he kissed your forehead.

“I hate both of you.” Sebastian grumbled from his own bed.

“Someone is a grumpy patient.” You gave him a teasing smile.

“Oh, bite me.”

[ikeromantic]

Ikesen Boys React to a Tattooed MC pt 4

Thank you again to @otomedad for this fantastic idea ^_^ This one has Mitsuhide, Keiji, and Ieyasu! Approx. 2600 words of tattoo and MC appreciation!

Mitsuhide

Mitsuhide’s smile was infuriating. You wipe the sweat from your forehead and stretch your aching muscles. After five hours of practice, you were tired, your hair was a tangled mess, and your clothes looked even worse. And Akechi was just standing there, grinning, not a single hair out of place.  

“That was much better, little mouse. Almost passable.” His grin widens. “In another week or two, you might be able to fend off, say, a small rabbit? Perhaps a squirrel?”

You throw a sweat-damp rag at him, which he dodges easily. 

Mitsuhide’s eyebrows arch. “What’s this? Another match? I could never deny my little one.” 

“W-wai-ahhhh!” You hold up a hand to stop him, only for him to grab your hand and send you up and over his shoulder. He holds you there, your head flopping against his upper back, legs kicking uselessly in the air.

“Hmm. I think you’ve lost this round. You don’t seem to be able to get down.”

You seriously consider biting him, but there’s no easy spot to clamp down on. Besides, he’d probably just - 

“If you bite me, I will return the favor.” You hear the laughter in his voice, and feel his breath on your leg.

“Put me down!” 

Mitsuhide does laugh then, a low, wicked chuckle that sends feelings skittering through your frayed nerve endings. “I don’t think I want to, though. You’ll have to convince me.”

You struggle some more, trying to grab hold of him so you can leverage your grip to wriggle out of his. It’s impossible not to be aware of the flex of his muscle, covered by thin linen. The way he holds you, gentle, but implacable. Your pulse is racing and your face is red from more than exertion. I’m just embarrassed, you think, knowing that’s not quite true. 

With some effort, you manage to grasp his clothes firmly enough to pull yourself down, but you feel the loose folds of your hakama slide away from your hips as you do. You freeze, held by the terrible image of Mitsuhide carrying a pantless you, your rear in the air, legs kicking. 

“It seems my little mouse has only further ensnared herself.”   

The low, smooth tone of his voice sends a little shiver over the newly bare skin of your hip, and you fancy that you can feel his hair tickling that sensitive spot. “You - I - this - this is your fault!” It’s hard to think, and you wonder if he’s distracting you on purpose. Teasing, as always.

Mitsuhide chuckles, the laugh more something you can feel than hear. “But however will you escape? Perhaps you could persuade -” He pauses, holding very still.

“Ummm. Pretty please? Put me down?” You stop squirming, hopeful this means he’s done with his current game.

Instead, he shifts his grip on you, and you feel a cool, calloused finger drag against your hip. 

The unexpected touch, featherlight, sends a jolt of heat through you, and you bite back a pleased sigh. There is no way you’re letting Akechi get to you. Nope. No. You refuse to give him the satisfaction of knowing his taunting touch got to you this time. “Mitsuhide -”

“You have been marked. What is this, my naughty little mouse?” 

For a moment, you have no idea what he means and then you realize. He must have glimpsed your tattoo. Your face, already hot, grows hotter still. This was something you hoped to keep to yourself. Especially given . . .

You feel his fingers catch the waist of your hakama and pull it a little further down. “Wait! Stop!”

Mitsuhide pauses, though now you can feel the cool air and his warm breath teasing your low hip. “This is no irezumi kei.” His voice has changed, the teasing replaced by strained curiosity.

“I told you I’m from the future. People have all kinds of tattoos there.” You hope he hasn’t realized what the design is. Please, please, you think, if there is any goodness in the world, he won’t see enough to -

“Little one. This is a -” His voice is so low you don’t catch the end of his sentence. 

You let out a breath, realizing there’s no escaping it now. “Look. I got that a long time ago. It was supposed to be the first part of a full leg sleeve.”

He sets you down gently, his hands lingering at your sides. His eyes are molten gold, and you find it hard to look away. “May I see it?”

 It is tempting to tell him no. To return some of the frustration you feel with his obtuse answers, his hot and cold behavior. But you find that you want to show him. Afterall, who else would appreciate this particular design more? You carefully tug your hakama down to display your hip and upper thigh. There, etched in bright colors is a nine-tail fox. The kitsune leaps from cloud a cloud toward a flower that looks like a cloud - or perhaps it’s a cloud that looks like a flower - and below that, the first hint of a river that was meant to tie the leg sleeve together. 

Mitsuhide’s smile widens and he kneels to get a closer look. 

“Go ahead,” you sigh. “Say what you’re going to say.”

His breath is warm against your skin as he leans close, his hand not quite touching. He stares into the soulful eyes of the inked kitsune, one fox to another, as if it might hold answers for him. When he looks up at you, your heart stutters in your chest. “You somehow manage to surprise me still, little one.” 

You aren’t sure what to say, and honestly, you feel as if you can barely breathe much less speak. It’s not just Mitsuhide’s closeness, or even your vulnerability in this position. It is the expression that haunts his eyes, a flicker of something hopeful, something raw beneath his usual smiling mask. 

“Why did you choose this? This . . . unworthy trickster?” His voice is almost inaudible, as if he too is having trouble breathing.

“Unworthy?” Your eyes go wide. “Kitsune are wise. Tricksters, yeah, but that just means they didn’t lose their sense of humor. They are noble and cunning and they pursue knowledge, even when it’s forbidden, and - and I wanted to be all those things too.” You fall silent, wondering why his comment upset you so much.

Mitsuhide stares at you, his brows arched high, his lips parted. Then he laughs, a paper thin, breathy sound that rises to a low chuckle. “Truly you are something . . . else.” He stands gracefully, his gaze still on your face.

“You too,” you mutter and turn away, busying your hands with fixing your clothes. It isn’t fair how he always tangles your feelings, you think. Looking at you like that, his voice, his eyes, his touch.

“Your tattoo is lovely. As lovely as you are.” He brushes a hand down your arm, a tender gesture. 

You freeze, butterflies filling your chest. His compliment means so much to you, but you don’t know what to say in return. Your throat feels parched and tight. After a shaky breath, you look up, determined to ask him why he teases you so, but he is already moving away, his back to you, the moment gone.  

Keiji

“Sometimes I don’t know why I bother,” you murmur to yourself. The subject and cause of your annoyance crouches a few steps away, all but ignoring you, his gaze turned toward the street just beyond the mouth of this narrow alley. You think you might prefer his silence to his commentary. 

He turns his head slightly to regard you, and you have the uncanny sense that he heard your whispered complaint. Chagrined, you offer him an apologetic smile, which earns you an eyeroll and a smirk. 

You do your best to ignore his reaction, but you can’t help the flush of embarrassment in your cheeks, or the way his regard makes your pulse pound.

A few short minutes later, he gestures you forward as he steps out into the clear street ahead. You follow, a nervous energy in your steps. In fact, you are so nervous that your feet tangle mid-step. 

Keiji catches you before you hit the ground, his warm arms pulling you up in an unexpected embrace. “Careful,” he admonishes you sharply, but you see the genuine concern in his gaze.

“Thanks.” You pull away, self conscious and even more embarrassed now. At this rate, Keiji will never ask you along to anymore of his clandestine missions. You try not to meet his gaze again as you straighten your clothes.

He reaches out, grabbing your hand before you manage to tug your sleeve back into place. “Is that - are you - princess . . .” The sharpness in his tone melts into surprise as he pulls your sleeve back up. 

“Ehehe, umm . . . it’s a tattoo?” The inked lines of three noh masks stare back at the two of you. “I did costuming for theater and I, I liked these designs.” You end on a defiant note, practically daring Keiji to say something snarky.

Surprisingly, he says nothing, just strokes your marked skin with the rough pad of his thumb. The touch sends a pleasant shiver through you, which you hope he doesn’t notice. 

“So . . . can I have my arm back,” you venture after a few awkward moments. 

Keiji nods, but doesn’t let go of you. “Do you know what these mean?” His voice sounds distant, soft and surprisingly tender. 

You nod. “I . . . yes.” Your gaze follows his thumb to the three faces. I got Zō because I feel like she represents the best in women. Divinity and beauty. Wisdom. And then, Namanari because hell hath no fury, right? Holding onto anger makes me a demon. So she’s kind of a warning for me to let it go, but also, like, a reminder that it’s ok to be angry too.”

“And Rōjo?” He looks up, his warm amber eyes meeting yours. 

“To remind me that getting older is ok too.” You shrug uncomfortably, feeling oddly exposed by the confession. 

Keiji studies you, tension in his shoulders and jaw. “It’s nice. Your tattoo.”

Your eyes widen a little at the compliment. “You know you don’t have to fake things around me,” you tell him, half hoping he means it and half sure he doesn’t.

“I said I like it, ok? It’s pretty.” He frowns, a little crease forming between his eyebrows.

For some reason, the all too familiar expression of disapproval combined with the kind words sends little butterflies spinning through your tummy, and makes your heart do a funny little flip in your chest. He has no right to look so cute, you think. Or to say such nice things while his thumb makes little circles on the inner side of your arm. “Th-thanks.”

One eyebrow lifts slightly along with the corners of his lips. “You’re blushing.”

You jerk your arm away, trying to get ahold of your galloping heart. “I am not!” 

He laughs, a sound free of nega-Keiji’s bitterness, one full of a sudden, intoxicating joy. 

This does nothing to help you rein in your reaction, but you find yourself joining in the laughter with him. “Come on, let’s just go meet your contacts,” you say through your giggles. 

“Yeah. That’s right.” He smiles and you feel another flush of heat in your cheeks. One that only grows as he reaches for your hand.

Ieyasu

“Hold still.” Ieyasu’s crisp tone brooks no disobedience. 

You stop squirming and take a deep breath. “Sorry,” you mumble. “It just hurts.”

A faint smile curls the edges of his mouth. “Yes, well, tumbling down a gravel path usually does. You should be more careful. At this rate, I’ll have to accompany you everywhere just to ensure you don’t hurt yourself.”

You feel a goofy happiness at the gentle expression on his face as he says it, though his tone stays sharp. “I’m not that clumsy,” you argue. “I don’t need babysitting.” 

“The evidence leaves that very much in doubt.” Ieyasu tugs your kimono aside, revealing your hip and thigh. There is an angry red patch of skin where the gravel scraped you badly, and his eyes flick over the wound with concern. Then his gaze travels up and you notice his brows rise. 

“What? What is it?” You start to move again and stop as he rests a hand on you. 

Ieyasu frowns, his fingertip tapping just above your injury. “You have a mark. Like a painting but -” He drags his finger over the ink of your tattoo. 

“Oh, that.” You laugh self-consciously. You hadn’t been thinking about the tattoo at all - especially not after your spectacularly embarrassing accident that morning. Tripping over a rock and sliding halfway down a gravel and sand path while out walking with Hideyoshi. And to make matters worse, he’d insisted on carrying you to see Ieyasu for treatment. Thankfully, he hadn’t stayed. You could easily imagine his disapproving expression. Probably more so than the face Ieyasu was making now. 

“Yes. That.” He leaned closer to your leg, studying the colorful image there. “It looks like an octopus. Holding a flower?” Ieyasu’s voice has lost some it’s usual coldness, thawing to an unexpected warmth with curiosity.

You feel another little flutter in your chest and tell yourself to calm down. “It’s supposed to be Akkorokamui holding an anemone. I got it after my parents passed away.” The memory of your intense grief is enough to make you pause. It’s been so many years since you lost them, but it still hurts. A dull, distant ache you don’t notice most of the time. Only on those lonely, long nights when there is nothing to distract you. 

Ieyasu looks up, concern in his wide green eyes. “You don’t need to tell me if it’s too much.”

“No, it’s ok. I can talk about it. That was several years ago and I - I’m alright now.” You give him what you hope is a reassuring smile. “I read that the octopus was a symbol for adaptability. And that Akkorokamui meant healing and wisdom. So . . . I got it as a tattoo, so I would never forget I can handle everything life throws my way. That I will always heal, in time.”

His warm palm strokes your thigh, a gentle touch meant to be calming. The effect on you is less than, sending your pulse skyrocketing. “I see.” He continues the tender caress, though his brows furrow. “But why is it holding a flower?”

“Fragility and strength. Because I’m fragile but I want to be strong.” You take a breath, trying to calm your heart and settle the ache in your soul. Surprisingly, your grief already feels less, as if Ieyasu’s closeness has chased it away.

He nods, looking back down with his thoughtful expression. “I think it’s nice.” 

You can’t miss the flush of red in his cheeks, or his sudden shyness as he pulls his hand away. 

“Too bad such a pretty picture can’t stop you from being a danger to yourself. But I don’t think this will leave a scar on your lov- er, your skin.” Ieyasu’s coldness returns in full force, his eyes as hard as jade.

“Do you really think it’s pretty? I like it but -”

“Of course it is,” he snaps back, already pulling out a tincture to clean your wound.

You bite your lip at the sting, eyes watering a little. 

Ieyasu sighs, his shoulders losing some of their tension. “Sorry. I should have warned you. This will hurt a little.”

“It’s fine. I’m just glad you like me - ah - my tattoo.” 

His eyes widen at your slip in speech, his mouth open. The red in his cheeks spreads to his ears, and something in his gaze wavers. “Well. Even I can admit when someone-thing- is pretty. I’m not blind.”

You feel a giggle rising up and clamp down. Laughing now would not be a good thing. “Thanks.”

“Sure,” he mutters, turning away. You can still see the red tips of his ears.

[lemonhemlock]

THANK YOU I AGREE WITH YOUR AEMOND POST 1 MILLION %. Some of the replies are so frustrating, all you were doing is discussing the writers' decisions this season regarding Aemond, and how simplistic it would be for Aemond's motivations to betray Aegon to be based on the brothel scene. You put into words everything wrong with Aemond's arc this season and I tremendously agree! I feel that the writers are flip-flopping with Aemond and Aegon's relationship, first they were enemies as children, then Aemond lost his eye and they seemed to be on the same page, then AEGON'S SON WAS VICIOUSLY BRUTALLY MURDERED AND AEMOND IS (besides showing no character evolution driven remorse to speak of) BACK TO HATING AEGON AGAIN?! THAT'S HIS BROTHER. HIS NEPHEW. HIS SISTER'S KID. Aemond had zero fucks to give!

The fandom's reaction to Aemond has been so embarrassing! Why is he not held accountable for ANYTHING. EVER. I defended Aemond all through S1 and will always defend him from TB but HE'S A GROWN MAN NOW. He just doesn't show empathy for Aegon after Jahaerys' death, your brother is grieving and he swears Aegon is his King and he's his hitman and he will always serve his ass. IF THEY HAVE AEMOND MURDER AEGON BECAUSE HE TEASED HIM IN A BROTHEL WHAT EVEN IS THIS. Really bad writing. Really cringe too.

So don't worry there are some of us who whole heartedly agree with you and don't coddle Aemond a grown man, with the same standards season after season and hold him accountable for the sin of hoping he grows as a character even if he is heading for a darker turn.

thank you so much, anon, for this unexpected reply, as i'm hanging out at the airport with not much to do 😅

yeah, i think that, ON PAPER, aemond turning on his brother as a result of years of bullying is believable, sure, BUT. the bullying truly needs to be horrific to explain away the urge to commit basically three of the most grievous crimes in westeros: kingslaying, kinslaying and usurpation. like. no one takes those things lightly. and, i'm sorry, but teasing just doesn't cut it. i think that a lot of people may be kind of projecting their own personal grievances with school bullies onto aemond, which is natural to an extent, but they have to step back a little and realise that being rude or hurtful to someone just doesn't, in any way, merit a reaction so disproportionate that it amounts to soul-drenching crimes

in that regard, last season i was 100% on aemond's side as well, because, well, MUTILATION might warrant such an escalation in violence. compared to all that pent-up anger aemond felt for luke, the aegond rivalry is just not really well done. it COULD have been, but, without having seen ep 4, it feels very milquetoast and, most of all, unearned.

honestly, i think gwen emphasized really well the fact that we're in a fandom obsessed with their headcanons and brainrot, to the extent that it becomes difficult to separate the backstory one has created for some character with what has actually appeared on screen. what we've seen so far has only been mockery, and i get that, when you're a kid, it's very difficult to go through, but we are talking about murdering your sibling here. i mean, no, i don't think "it makes perfect sense". ALSO. pointing that out doesn't mean you're invalidating the trauma of bullying victims, let us please separate people's real experiences from fictional experiences, which 1. are fake and 2. can be improperly presented in media, which is what we are critiquing in the first place

on a final note, i have had people on my post clinging to this idea that, just because the writers had aemond say (in the most bored tone in existence) that he regrets "the business with luke" (or however the hell he phrases it) means that the writers want to communicate to us that he feels sorry over jaehaerys. please. they must either be aliens that are just now learning about human emotion OR they want to relay that aemond isn't really all that bothered fundamentally. his reaction is basically the stoned out version of this gif!

but, anyway, as dumb as aemond's reasons are or aren't, what ultimately brings the whole rivalry down is that they really didn't invest in creating any dramatic tension between these two. think of the scene at storm's end, it's the literal version of "you could have cut the tension in the room with a knife" and it's only a few minutes long. so it can be done. they just don't care OR, because of this stupid trend of reducing the number of episodes in a season, aegond was just one of those things that hit the cutting room floor. so we can all blame capitalism for rook's rest. 😅

[inaconstantstateofchange]

BG3 Companion Headcanons: Wicked Grace (Or, Well, Talis¹)

I got to thinking about what it would look like if we had a similar scene with the BG3 companions as the infamous Wicked Grace scene from Dragon Age: Inquisition. Enjoy:

Lae'zel: She doesn't really see the point of a game seemingly so dependent on chance rather than true strategy – she and Gale share a bonding moment over this – and refuses to participate after losing by an embarrassing margin in the first game. However, she does take a "strategic vantage point" from which to keenly observe the proceedings, and makes a private vow to win back her honor in future, after the sting of defeat has eased.

Astarion: He's the one who suggested the whole affair in the first place, but he quickly finds himself with cause to regret it. On the one hand, he ends up... enjoying himself to a certain degree, but on the other, he does not come out of it with anything near the unquestioned victory he expected. He's not used to playing against opponents with a comparable skill level, so his attempts to cheat his way to victory only succeed a fraction of the time. His stress levels increase after Lae'zel taps out and takes up haunting the table, and the inconsistency with which she calls out his cheating is worse for his nerves than if she did it every time.

Shadowheart: Astarion may have suggested the affair in the first place, but she's the one who manipulated him into it, by "casually" noting on a mission one day that it was a shame none of them had a deck to play with, as she was a great enjoyer of the game even though she had never had any great skill with it. In fact, such games were highly emphasized among Sharrans for their unparalleled utility in information gathering, manipulation, and subterfuge.

Gale: He starts out very certain of his skill and assured victory, then begins making several pointed comments about how it would be a different story if they were to bring out the lanceboard when he begins losing ground — and articles of clothing. He makes a decent showing for himself, but folds out just after the midpoint of the evening to join Lae'zel in treating the remaining players as the prime entertainment they are.

Wyll: He played with some of the Fist recruits as a teenager, but he's a little out of practice. He gets fleeced for the first few rounds, but settles into it, keeps his wits about him, and quietly gets his own back by the later rounds. He regularly catches his opponents off-guard with an unexpected quip, and Karlach has to excuse herself for an entire round after snorting ale out of her nose in a horrid mix of foul steam and boiling liquid. He apologizes vigorously, but can't stop laughing along with the rest of them, and it certainly doesn't make him stop.

Karlach: She's actually a brutal opponent, but unfortunately stymied by her recent experience being with the rulesets used by those devils willing to play in Avernus, and, prior to that, the heavily amended rules favored by the seedier neighborhoods of Baldur's Gate. No one – particularly not those currently winning – is willing to switch to a different set of rules in the middle of the evening, but Karlach makes them promise that next time, she gets to pick the ruleset. She calls it a night after the Ale Incident, clapping Wyll on the back before flopping down next to Gale and Lae'zel, and picking a new target to cheer on each round. (Her cheering is distracting enough that said targets are typically grateful when her attention lands on anyone else. This is on purpose. She is having a grand time.)

Minthara: She treats the initial invite with icy disdain, noting that she has far more productive things to do than to engage in such puerile pursuits. The camp is small enough that she can't entirely avoid the bright cluster of gathered individuals raucously ribbing at and laughing with each other. She ends up drifting nearer, noting that in Menzoberranzan they played for much more meaningful stakes than mere coin. Everyone's in a good enough mood to leave that one alone, and so she somehow ends up standing just behind Halsin's shoulder. She offers blunt and often biting commentary berating his strategy for being too hands-off, falling silent only when he wins that round — albeit with a gambit that would have lost him some fingers in Menzoberranzan. He looks at her with a gleam in his eye, but doesn't press his point, merely tilting his hand to allow her a better view, and they proceed to form a fairly successful team.

Halsin: He plays up his ignorance at first, claiming cards to be "an invention of civilization", but acquits himself with the skill of a reasonably accomplished dabbler. As the night wears on, he admits in a quiet, humor-laced aside that his master, the previous First Druid, was an inveterate card sharp, and Halsin's own skill was merely what he acquired in self-defense. When Minthara joins him, he ignores her more bloodthirsty suggestions, but incorporate those that suit his own strategy, culminating in an unpredictable, yet startlingly effective strategy.

Jaheira: She's brutal. A terror. They overlook her the first round – innocent, unknowing fools that they are – more focused on their own petty squabbles with one another. She smiles calmly, refuses to rise to any of the general ribbing, then sweeps the entire pot at the last minute with a play that leaves them all gaping at her. From that point, they are gunning for her in particular — and she makes them fight for every single copper they regain.

Minsc: No one is certain whether he knows what game they're playing. He will make absolutely absurd plays, then come in at the last with a card laid out on Boo's direction that somehow turns it around. His chaotic playstyle means he's never first — but he's also, inexplicably, never last.

¹ "Some games of skill are detailed below, but games of chance are also popular. Wagering on any sort of game is also a favorite pastime.... Talis Deck: A deck of seventy-eight cards, typically made of lacquered paper or parchment, in a wooden case. The deck is similar to a tarot deck." Forgotten Realms Campaign Setting 3E. 2001. p. 96.

[jungle-angel]

The Cowboy's Christmas Gift (Rhett Abbott x Reader)

Summary: Rhett gets an unexpected surprise when he comes in one day

Warnings: SMUT (18+ only), kinky bedroom shenanigans, a whole lotta kinks etc.

Tagging: @floydsmuse @sebsxphia

"You're sure we've got everything we need?" Rhett asked his father as they drove back home through the snow that had begun to fall.

"Rhett I checked, double checked and checked again after that," Royal told him. "Trust me, we've got everything."

"Everything?"

Royal was trying to hide the cheeky grin as he pulled a little something out of the brown paper bag between the seats, a bottle of Grand Marnier to make mimosas. Rhett went bug-eyed, his jaw dropping upon realizing what it was.

"No fuckin way!" he laughed.

"Yep," Royal told him. "Your mother and I will most likely be plastered Christmas Day so we're gonna need that 'do not disturb' sign ya'll made for when you and (y/n) stayed at the hotel after ya'll got married."

"UUUUGH!!!" Rhett groaned, completely disgusted at the image Royal had put into his head.

"Will ya'll relax?" he said. "Wouldn't be the first time we caught each other after the bedroom shenanigans."

Rhett made a gagging noise as they pulled into the driveway and followed Royal into the house. Royal and Cecelia had decided to take Amy, Hannah and the boys out to do some last minute Christmas shopping, leaving Rhett to his own devices and wouldn't be back till dark.

He flopped onto your shared bed and tried to put that image out of his mind but it didn't do any good at all. Only when he felt a set of hands rubbing across his shoulders did he forget it, albeit for a few seconds.

"Darlin?" he asked. "Whatcha doin?"

"Nothing," you purred, kissing his cheek.

"You sure?" he chuckled.

"Got a little surprise for you," you told him.

"Good because I really need to forget what just happened on the ride back."

You scrunched your eyebrows together, unsure of what he meant. "Everything ok?"

"Yeah until Dad put a nasty image in my head of him and Ma."

"UUUGH!" you groaned.

Rhett chuckled a little.

"Oh yeah," you concluded. "You definitely need it then. Wait here and I'll be right back."

He didn't have to wait too long, but the moment you emerged from the bathroom wearing a devilishly red lace slip, he somehow managed to forget most of what happened in the last half hour.

"Merry Christmas Cowboy," you purred, twirling your hair a little.

"Holy fuck," Rhett hissed.

"Oooh, didn't your mama ever tell you that swearing will get you on Santa's naughty list?" you teased.

You yelped a little when you felt his hands grab your hips and pull you in. "Don't tease me darlin," he chuckled. "Cuz I made that list a looooong time ago."

You threw your head back and laughed, even as he kissed your stomach and trailed along your thighs, his lips warm against your chilly skin. You let out a bit of a moan when his head roamed up the skirt of your slip, leaving wet, sloppy little kisses along your folds.

"Aw shit, what are you up to now?" you laughed when you felt his teeth tugging on your panties.

You felt an embarrassing heat rising into your cheeks when he pulled your matching underwear down to your ankles, leaving plenty of room for you to step out of them. Rhett released them from his teeth and into his hand, balling them up and throwing them into the laundry basket near the adjoining bathroom door.

"Alright Missy," he teased. "This reindeer needs a good ridin."

He fervently kissed you as your deft hands slipped up the back of his shirt and pulled it off in one go, the two of you never once breaking the kiss. Rhett helped you with his belt and then his jeans until his shorts were the last thing to come off, his monster hard-on practically flinging itself from the threads.

Rhett fell backwards with you on top of him, guiding your hips onto the throbbing stiffness that awaited your center. "Oh darlin, there we go," he groaned. "Good girl........aw honey ya'll just take me so well don't you?"

A rather unladylike moan fell from your lips as his cock went deeper and deeper in. You and Rhett worked together with each other's rhythms, rubbing against each other and feeling and immense amount of pleasure as the unholy moaning from you both rose and fell in different pitches, echoing throughout the room.

You moaned the loudest when you felt that hot, liquidy bursting between your legs, the both of you falling against each other and your heads clouded by the sensations you had just experienced together.

"Feel better Rhett?" you asked him.

"Oh I feel fuckin perfect darlin," he chuckled.

"Good," you said, kissing his cheek. "Because at any rate I think we'll need to go for round two if everybody's still out of the house and assuming those nasty images are still there."

"Believe me sweetheart," he said. "I'm hell bent on havin'em fucked outta me if you are."

"Challenge accepted, Cowboy," you purred, kissing him again.

[writingsforwhatever]

Part 1: Love letters to Matthew (m.s.)

summary: matt never felt the same way until he finally did.

warnings: very very slow burn. this is a long read, go get a snack! if you don't like reading, don't read it. ALSO, i have one shots based of this story. Their little moments leading up to the reader and matt confessing their feelings for each other. Let me know if you all are interested! enjoy my little bored mind.

A/N: Hi, before you continue reading this story, please be aware that I wrote this work of mine two years ago for my creative writing. It's my baby, and I hold it close to my heart. I lost inspiration for it a while back, but now I'm sharing it with the world. This is a long read because it's the entire story in two post. (Part 2 is posted). It's in no way connected or affiliated with Matt Sturniolo. I just made him the character because he fits the character's personality, and I needed to envision someone while I continued writing it, so I thought, why not?

word count: 27,231k

"If I could choose to live anywhere in the world, I would still choose to live here," she remarked, passing the bowl of Cheetos to Matt. "I mean, I could also pick a place in Sweden, somewhere in Northern Europe, but who could leave Massachusetts?"

Matt, sprawled out on the couch with the TV playing in the background, shrugged. "You could," he replied, smiling down at her. "Come on, don't be so negative. You can't possibly stay here forever."

"Why not? What's wrong with here?" She asked, standing up. She was now facing Matt, and a change of heart suddenly took hold. "I mean, I guess you're right." She flopped down next to him once more, sighing. "Do you think we'll ever fulfill our dreams and go to Europe together?"

"Of course, you idiot. We will, don't worry about it too much," he reassured her, glancing at her. It was the 19th day of December, a snowy day in the Bay State, and excitement was in the air. Airports were busier than usual, which meant one thing: Christmas was just around the corner.

September 2023

"Damn it," she cursed as she unpacked her suitcase. It was September, with summer in the process of ending and fall about to arrive. She couldn't believe her parents had thrown a "party" to welcome her back from her two-month long vacation. Before leaving, she had made it crystal clear that she didn't want any crazy shit, but it turned out that Luke had talked to her parents behind her back while she was spending time with him abroad. She glanced at the poster on her wall once again and whispered with a smile, "That idiot."

Luke.

The boy with light brown eyes reminiscent of autumn leaves, the one who swam throughout college, briefly dropped out, and then returned to college. He was the boy she met at Samantha's birthday party, the one her little cousin had a crush on - Luke.

"I'm so sorry," she apologized frantically, searching for the green tissue pack in her little bag while setting the glass of beer on a nearby table. Her white shirt was now stained with liquor, which was just great. The embarrassment of the situation was overwhelming, leaving her unable to think straight.

"No worries," Luke chuckled, clearly taken aback by the unexpected encounter. "I should've been more careful."

She handed him the tissues, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "That was so embarrassing. I'm truly sorry," she said with a sheepish smile.

"Don't worry about it. It’ll dry," he replied with a reassuring smile.

In that moment, she wished she could vanish into the ground, hoping some higher being might intervene and make it happen right there and right then.

"I’m going to miss you so much," Luke sighed, embracing her from behind.

She turned to face him, her expression softening. "Me too, but we'll see each other again on Christmas, okay?"

"That's a long time. I'll really really miss you," he admitted with a sad smile.

"Oh, shut up. You're probably tired of seeing my face every day," she giggled while still unpacking her suitcase.

"I could never. I love you too much." He chuckled, shaking his head.

"That's a nice touch," she pointed at her wall, changing the subject.

"You like it? Your mom helped me," he replied, smiling at her.

"Ya’ll are so dramatic," she chuckled.

Welcome back! – Haley, Mom, & Dad

After that fateful night in March when she met Luke, she had slowly stopped composing letters to Matthew altogether. The dynamics of her relationships with him had shifted, leaving behind a stack of handwritten words that now belonged to the past.

Matt.

Matt, with eyes as blue as a warm sunny day's sky, was someone she could lose herself in. He was the boy she loved so deeply that if her heart were torn from her chest, his name would be etched there. Matthew, the only one she had ever loved before Luke.

During the summer of ’20, she came to the realization that she had developed a crush on her best friend. On the night he drove her home, she silently prayed for God to make her feelings for him disappear. It seemed absurd; this was Matt, her very own Matt, her dearest friend in the world, and she was in love with him.

As they both grew older, she began to perceive him in a new way. He underwent changes; growing out his hair became something she loved. His height increased too. Whenever she sees him, a permanent smile adorned his face, and she found herself deeply and irrevocably in love with him. Everything he did captivated her, particularly the moment he slept on her shoulder in the car. It was ridiculous how loudly her heart throbbed at that time.

"Do you think they'll mind if it's just the two of us, Matt?" she asked, settling into the passenger seat.

"Why? We've done this plenty of times before; they'll be okay," he reassured her, quieting her with a gentle shush as he started the car.

On the day they left for LA, tears streamed down her face, staining Nick's shirt. "We'll be back for Thanksgiving, you goof," he reassured her.

No matter if it was for Christmas or her birthday, she didn’t care but the fact that her best friends were leaving at that moment weighed heavily on her. "You’re moving to the other side of the country, and I’m heading to college," she sniffled, the airport surroundings continued to add to her gloom.

Chris, empathetic, offered her a comforting a hug. "The other side of the country is crazy,” he said. "You can visit us, you know."

Her response came with a hint of frustration, "I'll be in college, Chris."

With a warm smile, Chris reassured her, “You can visit us during breaks. We're just one flight away."

She gazed at Matt, noticing his pink cheeks. "Everything's going to be okay. We'll see each other again in no time," he smiled sadly at her. She wanted to believe Matt wholeheartedly, as she always did, but deep down, she knew that things would never be the same.

August 23, 2021

Dear Matt, I miss you all so much. Mom and Dad just dropped me off at college, and my roommate, Samantha seems nice. She's from San Diego. You don't think my Boston accent is interesting, do you? She keeps saying it is, but I don't think so. I hope you're having a blast over there. I know you are. I really wish you were here. I miss you the most. Massachusetts sucks without you guys.

September 15, 2021

Dear Matthew,

I already miss you. It's funny; we just spoke on the phone, and here I am writing you a letter already. You sounded really happy, which makes me happy too. By the way, I just realized I brought Nick's shirt with me and your white hoodie too!! I didn't mention it earlier because I thought you might want them back. Haha.

Anyway, I can't wait for Fall; maybe we can visit a pumpkin patch. I know how much you love those. I'm looking forward to seeing you and everyone. Homesickness is setting in, and I miss home, especially you. I miss you the most.

P.S. Samantha thinks Nate is cute, but I don't think she’s his type.

The days went by, and she found herself missing him even more. The calls and texts lessened, she became busier, and Matt was texting her when she was at class and would reply to her when she was face down on the bed, asleep.

She struggled to admit it, but the Instagram posts featuring their new friends tugged at her heartstrings with a sense of longing. She couldn’t shake the feeling of being left out, as if life was in full swing without her presence, playing out somewhere in Southern California with her friends and the love of her life, while she sat alone at UMass, eating a sandwich in the cafeteria. She yearned to turn back time to those carefree 9th-grade days, where she’d laugh at Chris’s antics in class or when Matt and Nick would whisk her away for impromptu beach adventures.

September 28, 2021

Dear Matt,

I saw a guy today who I thought looked just like you in an ice cream shop while I was out with my friend. I think I might be losing my mind. College is going pretty well so far. Alahna sent me a snap from early 2021 last night, and it was of you getting annoyed at Nick because he had the megaphone while we were in the drive-thru. It was so funny. I thought you looked great that night, but then again, when did you ever not? Congratulations on hitting 4 million!

Oh, and does Chris have a crush on Natalie? Never mind, I'll ask him about it later. I miss you guys so much.

Years had passed since she last laid eyes on the photos that adorned the walls of her childhood bedroom. The pink and white paint of the room served as a poignant reminder of the unrequited love that had once consumed her heart.

The photos of her, Matt, and their friends playing in the snow, or the selfies Nick snapped during sleepovers when Chris and Matt would crash on the floor of Nick's room - memories she cherished dearly. The thought of past Thanksgiving gatherings tugged at her heartstrings, recalling how he'd tower over her at the table, his tender touches igniting a warmth in her skin. She loved Matt deeply, more than words could express.

October 11, 2021

Dear Matt,

I got my hair cut today. It felt weird. I was going to take a selfie to send it to you, but I got shy. I hope you're doing well over there. I heard you guys went to a party; Nick won't stop talking about it, lol.

I can't believe it's been months since I last saw you in person, even though I saw you the other day through a video call, it's just not the same... Time is flying by.

Also, Chloe just passed her driving lessons. I wish you guys were here to see it. I know she texted Nick about it, but still, I miss you, Matthew. Anyway, I'll text you later. I have this professor who's very old, and he hates late students.

She did see them on Thanksgiving, and she couldn't forget how Matt looked. Those moments made her question how she could go on with her life, knowing he was completely oblivious to her deep feelings for him. She hated herself for falling in love with him. It was a realization that left her feeling stupid.

November 30, 2021

Dear Matthew,

You looked absolutely handsome at dinner last week. I couldn't help but wonder how LA gets to see you like that every day without turning the whole state upside down. You mentioned missing me, but I'm pretty sure I missed you even more. It's odd that Mom keeps talking about how much taller you've grown, because she should have expected that. Yesterday, when you brought up about meeting a girl, my heart sank. I believe you genuinely like her. I didn't want to ask more because I didn't want to be too obvious, but I think Chris saw my smile disappear. He was kind enough not to ask about it though so it’s all good.

Why do I still miss you even when you're sleeping right beside me on the couch? It's as if you're so far away.

It was early August 2022 when she paid them a visit in California for their birthday. She could recall every detail – the weather, the ride from the airport, and the woman in his arms.

She had faced numerous challenges before, like the time she had to carry Samantha, who was far too drunk for her own good, or when Chris begged her to retrieve his backpack in subzero temperatures. However, this situation felt entirely different. As the doors swung open, she yearned to be anywhere but there – perhaps back in her small dorm room in Boston.

From within, she could hear the voices and music, the uproar of celebration and delight. Outside, the soft hum of Los Angeles traffic persisted as cars rushed by. Yet, above all else, she swore she could hear the unrelenting rhythm of her own heartbeat, as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded in that moment.

The woman was already there, wearing a warm smile, eagerly awaiting her boyfriend Matt's arrival. She couldn't help but admire Matt's taste, as in that moment, she found the woman to be stunning. With her dark blonde hair, brown eyes, and a height of 5'3, she gave off an endearing aura that she effortlessly carried with her. The woman greeted everyone with an open-hearted smile, embracing her as if they were long-lost friends reuniting after a decade apart.

"Hi! It's so great to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you," the woman's voice was flawless, yet there was a hollow feeling within her. She genuinely liked the woman and had an inkling that she would become a significant presence in their lives for quite some time to come.

Her gaze fixed on Matt, a mixture of confusion and hurt in her eyes. How was it possible that he hadn't disclosed that he had a girlfriend? Those nights when he would call her, those were the very nights she longed to be in his arms, not realizing they had already been spent with someone else.

That night was etched in her memory, a vivid recollection of the moment she had realized it was impossible for her to remain friends with him. She couldn't maintain their friendship, not while she was overwhelmed with sadness while he was immersed in happiness.

December 6, 2021

Dear Matt,

Today, I spent the day baking cookies with Haley but the real takeaway is being back in Boston and just one car ride away from you.

Weird, Nick brought up the name of the girl you're talking to, and it took me by surprise a little because you never mentioned her to me. I could sense Chris was giving me the stare, like he knows something, but that's just Chris, right?

It was a scene she had seen countless times before, both in movies and in real life – the clichéd tale of falling in love with your best friend and the inevitable heartbreak that followed.

There he sat, a picture of handsomeness in the midst of the kitchen, so immersed in what he's doing that he only noticed her staring when he looked up and playfully asked, "Any boys I should know about?" She chuckled, finding Matt's question entirely characteristic of his random sense of humor.

"No one, Matt," she replied, rolling her eyes with a smile. Inside, she thought, "It's only you. It was only ever you."

"I find that hard to believe," he said, casting a shy glance her way, his smile never wavering.

She pressed, "And why is that?"

"Because you're..." he started, his voice trailing off, leaving the unspoken feelings hanging in the air between them.

"…because you're amazing. You're good at baking cookies and-"

"Please, shut the fuck up, Matthew," she blushed, looking away.

"It's true! Ask Chris. He thinks you have a college boyfriend you’re not telling us about," he defended himself.

"Well, Chris is stupid," a small frown appeared on her face.

"Hey, I heard that!" She looked toward the boy sitting on the couch in the living room. "Shut up, Chris, Nick is sleeping."

She was standing over the kitchen counter, finishing the gifts she had prepared for her cousins and parents. She rolled her eyes, feeling a bit exasperated. "You're all so dramatic; I'm trying to do something here, fucks sake.”

"Let me help you with that. I'm almost done with this," Matt offered, standing beside her. His proximity alone nearly sent her into a frenzy.

He was incredibly touchy with her, and it only added to the intimacy of their connection. His frequent and intimate touches with her left her in a state of confusion. She couldn’t help but wonder if it was normal for best friends to share such physically intimate moments like this.

"You're terrible at this," he chuckled.

"Whatever Matt," she grumbled, continuing to tape the wrapper.

He leaned even closer, almost putting his entire weight on her. "Matt, you’re so annoying! Get off me," she exclaimed.

Years later, she learned that Chris had glanced at them, shaking his head in bemusement, and thinking about how oblivious his brother Matt was to her feelings. Chris couldn’t help but realize how deeply in love she was with his brother, even if she had never voiced it. She didn’t need to, Chris thought.

August 2022

She felt stuck in place. In that moment, she felt like time had frozen. Her feet glued to the ground.

The realization hit her like a ton of bricks - he had a girlfriend, all this time, and no one had told her. It was a profound sense of betrayal and feeling forgotten, it didn't matter that their relationship is just starting, she had loved Matt for years!

It was as if she wasn't worthy of knowing this crucial piece of information about the person she had secretly loved for so long, even though he didn't know he was the love of her life. The waves of emotion threatened to make her sick, but she managed to maintain her composure.

Chris remained by her side throughout the entire party, his friendly nudges and conversation attempts providing a comforting presence. "You know, I still can't believe you're here," he remarked, genuine surprise in his voice. "It's only been a couple of months, right?"

"Only a couple of months, Chris," she confirmed, her gaze fixed on her drink.

"I missed you so much. We all did. It felt like forever since the last time I saw you," Chris continued, offering a playful smile.

She managed a smile in response, though it didn't quite reach her eyes. She kept her thoughts to herself, silently yearning for the familiar comforts of Boston, even though it no longer felt like home. In truth, nothing felt like home as long as Matt was in the arms of another. Chris could see through her facade. He understood the reason behind her dull mood, realizing it was linked to the presence of two specific individuals in the room. However, he respected her feelings enough not to confront her about it here and now, choosing to let her navigate her emotions in her own time

The days seemed to stretch on, with summer taking hold. Matt's girlfriend had flown back home to Florida, they were back to their old routine, but her heart couldn’t forget the feelings she had buried deep within.

They drove her to their favorite restaurants and shops in L.A., but the nagging ache in her heart persisted. With her pretending to enjoy the days while ignoring the sinking feeling that gnawed at her treacherous heart, she tried to be as cheerful as possible before her return to the East Coast.

Until one particular car ride with Nick and Chris temporarily absent and inside Ralph's, she couldn't keep her feelings bottled up any longer and decided to have a heart-to-heart with Matt. It was a brief respite from the facade of happiness she had been trying to maintain.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you. It all happened so fast," he said, his eyes pleading for her to meet his gaze.

She cut him off, "It doesn't matter, Matt. I guess I just felt really sad that you didn't tell me. I'm your best friend, for heaven's sake." She fought back the urge to cry, keeping her emotions expertly concealed.

"I'm sorry, okay? It all happened in a whirlwind, and suddenly, you were on a flight from Boston to L.A.…," he trailed off. "Plus, I wanted it to be a surprise." He sheepishly smiled.

"God, Matt," she whispered, genuinely taken aback by the revelation.

She continued, "It's okay, it's all in the past now. I was surprised, no doubt."

She smiled, rolled her eyes, and forced a lighter tone into her voice. "So, tell me about her. Where did you guys meet?"

He chuckled, sensing that things were somewhat getting back to normal, but it was never quite the same, she thought to herself.

The night before she left for Boston, they drove and explored the city once more, just the two of them. Chris seemed too tired to join, and Nick had editing work to do.

"I wanted to take you here. It's one of the best viewpoints in L.A.," Matt explained, his excitement palpable.

"What, Griffith Park?" she replied, laughing. "You mean the spot from GTA, right?"

"Yeah, exactly. We used to play that game, remember?" he smiled down at her, feeling nostalgic.

How could she forget?

After several minutes of driving, Matt parked the car, and a heavy silence hung between them, no one seemingly wanted to step out. "Thanks for spending your summer here. It means a lot... That you're here," he expressed, looking at her with his blue eyes that shone through the Los Angeles darkness, seemingly even brighter than the city lights.

"Of course, anything for you guys," she replied, breaking their eye contact, and shifting her gaze to the dashboard in front of her. How could he do this to her? How could he not know? She wished she could freeze this moment in time, his face looking so soft in the gentle glow of the traffic lights. His tired eyes and tousled hair that had always made her heart leap and now, she felt like she could cry right there; she loved him so much and he didn’t know. She also wished she could tuck this memory away in the pockets of her thrifted yellow dress.

Tonight felt different, marking the end of summer, and they were both a year older. They weren't 19 anymore, and yet, she remained deeply in love with him.

~

Nicolas Sturniolo was a smart man, and his brothers secretly admired him for it, even if they would never openly admit it. Of course, he noticed the lingering glances she directed at Matt but never said anything. Nick believed that Matt had informed her about his girlfriend months before she arrived in LA but was shocked upon learning that his brother didn't. That explained the sudden change of mood he'd seen with her at the party.

The older brother had always had an inkling about it since they were young, ever since Matt hadn't asked her to prom. He remembered how she had waited for Matt to notice her new hairstyle, and when Matt already did compliment her, Nick swore he saw her smile so big it could light up the entire school that day. Nick thought his brother Chris was dense, but Matt was on a different level.

He had brought up the subject with Matt once, while they were in line at TSA, just before a flight to California, a mere 7-hour journey away. "You do realize she's in love with you, right?"

"What?" Matt's brows furrowed; genuine confusion etched on his face.

"Come on, Matt. We all know she's had a crush on you since high school," Nick exclaimed, adjusting his backpack.

"That's not true, Nick," Matt responded, shaking his head in disbelief. He found the idea ridiculous.

"Whatever, Matt. You guys are both stupid. I see the way you look at her, and I see how she looks at you. What's holding you back?" Nick shrugged.

"Because we're just friends, Nick? Can't two people of the opposite sex be friends?" Matt retorted, feeling exasperated.

"Okay, Matt, we get it," Chris chimed in, adding his two cents. "We're just telling you what we see."

As Nick appeared impatient and tired of the conversation, and Chris pretending to not care, Matt pushed the thought to the back of his mind.

December 18, 2021

The sight of you on my porch brought me immense happiness. Dad was yelling, which woke me up, and he said you guys were at the front door. Honestly, that pie was incredible; I couldn't believe you three made it.

I wanted to thank you for joining me today. I understand you're not a fan of walking in the snow, but I loved every moment of it.

Christmas is just around the corner, and it's only a matter of days now.

I often wonder if you notice how frequently I steal glances at you whenever I have the chance.

As I sit here writing this, I’m looking at the Christmas gift I got you. It's a necklace. It might seem cliché, but I genuinely hope it brings a smile to your face whenever you see it.

~

She held onto the memory of that day, those tense days after learning he had a girlfriend and before the car confrontation.

"Are you planning to sleep on the couch?" Matt asked.

"I am," she stubbornly insisted.

"Come on, you're our guest; you can sleep in my bed," Chris mumbled with a mouthful of chips.

"And have you sleep here on the couch? No way, Chris," she replied firmly.

Nick chuckled, watching Matt's obliviousness. How could his brother not realize that she was upset with him?

"Alright, then we'll both sleep in my bed," Chris suggested, glancing at Matt for his reaction.

Matt was puzzled. They always shared his bed, so what was the issue now?

Snatching the blanket Nick had given her, she hurried downstairs to reach Chris's room.

Matt's jaw hung open. "What did I do?" he mumbled, frowning at his brothers.

Nick shook his head, grinning. "I'm off to bed. Matt, quit being stupid."

"What?" Matt looked to Chris for answers. Chris shrugged, "I guess she just wanted to sleep in my bed tonight, Matt."

"But-"

"Goodnight, Maaaatt," Chris sang, leaving Matt bewildered and hurt.

"But she always sleeps with me," he whispered to himself, still trying to make sense of the unexpected change.

Lying in Chris's bed that night, she silently yearned for divine intervention. Avoiding eye contact with Matt as she passed by him on her way downstairs, she couldn't ignore the confusion and hurt etched across his face. Deep down, she desperately wanted to pull him into a hug and tell him that things were alright.

It was unusual for her to sleep in Chris's bed, given that she always slept in Matt's, so the sudden change had caught Matt off guard. She was aware of it, but at that moment, her anger towards him outweighed her care.

Earlier that day, Madi had teased her about her apparent coldness toward Matt when they were getting tacos in Melrose. It seemed that everyone had noticed her subtle avoidance of his touches and comments, leading to hushed discussions among their friends.

She was also certain that Chris was a light sleeper. He didn't snore, but he definitely woke easily.

"Couldn't sleep?" Chris whispered, turning to face her.

"Yeah, too much on my mind," she replied, exhaling wearily.

The stillness of the night, combined with their exhaustion, allowed for a comforting silence to settle between them. A beat passed, "Why don't you just tell him?" Chris suggested, his voice barely audible. She couldn't see her best friend, but she sensed the sadness in his gaze.

"Tell him what, Chris?" she deflected, shutting her eyes.

"You're not fooling anyone, you know? You might fool my stupid brother but you can’t fool me and Nick," he remarked, adjusting himself under the covers.

Silence descended once more, but this time, it felt oddly reassuring knowing that one of her closest friends was aware.

"It doesn't matter. He would shut me out."

"No, he won't. He genuinely cares about you, and you know it," Chris assured her. While Chris might not be privy to his brother Matt's true feelings, whether he reciprocated them or not, one thing was certain: Matt cared deeply for her, more than she could ever comprehend.

"It's also different now that he has a girlfriend. I don't think she'd appreciate me sharing a bed with her boyfriend. It's more about respect," she added.

Chris disregarded her attempt to change the subject and pressed on, "Matt loves you, bro. If he ever shuts you out for telling him how you feel, then he's an idiot. You have me and Nick by your side forever. If you never tell him, you'll never get the chance to express your feelings."

“You guys should talk.” He added.

"I don't think I'm ready, but I'll think about it," she replied, her exhaustion evident in her voice.

Chris nodded, even though she couldn't see him. He understood the weight of the emotions she was carrying.

"Of course, at your own pace."

"Chris?"

"Hm?"

"Thank you."

"Anything for you, kid."

In the quiet of that night, as dreams and sleep intertwined, she found solace in the knowledge that Chris, her closest friend, understood the depths of her emotions. It was a small source of comfort amid the uncertainty that had clouded her heart.

As they both drifted into slumber, she imagined a future where everything would fall into place, where she could openly express her feelings to the boy upstairs. In the warm embrace of their Los Angeles home, she held onto the hope that the friendship that she shared with Matt would weather these feelings she has for him.

January 10, 2022

Dear Matt,

I have to say, you can be pretty stubborn. I warned you not to visit me and bring me food because I’d probably end up puking it all out (eww), and now you’ve gone and caught the cold too. Now everyone’s infected!

 But you know what? You bringing me food made my heart leap, I’m pretty sure you know how to make me fall in love with you even more. Nick texted me earlier that he and Chris have lost their sense of taste because of Covid, but you seem to be fine already so you’re making them try different drinks.

I’m feeling a lot better now and I’ve tested negative for Covid, thankfully. Still, I’m dreading the day I go back to school. Ugh.

Alahna mentioned about wanting to visit you guys, but I know deep down she just wanted to see Chris. Haha.

Just so you know Matt, I love you. I think you probably know that already, but I wanted to say it anyway here.

She was certain that Matthew Sturniolo was going to be the death of her. The mischievous boy had cornered her against the kitchen counter, removing the chocolate residue that Nick had playfully smeared across her forehead. It was a sticky, gross mess, but Matt was attentively cleaning it up with a wet face towel. And there he stood, in all his splendid glory – tall and handsome. Nick and Chris's laughter in the background only intensified the fluttering of her heart.

"There, all gone," he confirmed, a warm smile gracing his features, the kind of smile that always had the power to weaken her knees.

"You're such an idiot, Nick," she scowled, avoiding Matt as she walked toward the center of the room.

"What? It kinda suits you," Nick replied, and the hearty laughter of Chris and Matt filled the room.

She flashed a playful smile. "Whatever. Are you guys ready to go?" she asked, her impatience showing.

The car ride proceeded as usual, with Matt behind the wheel and Chris in the passenger seat, en route to Chloe's house for a swim and to meet their other friends. The broken AUX meant the soft tunes of the radio filled the air, harmonizing with the breezy Boston weather.

"Matt, if you don't put me down, I'll kill you!" she screamed.

"Come on, it's not that serious," he laughed, making his way towards the pool.

"I don't care! Seriously, Matt, don't do thi-" But before she could finish her sentence, she found herself submerged in the pool.

"You're such an asshole," she grumbled, retaliating by splashing water at him. He chuckled and swam away.

A few feet away, Chris was engrossed in conversation with Nate about an Amazon package he had ordered, while Nick sat nearby, casually nodding and occasionally chiming in.

When she turned her attention back to Matt, he quickly splashed water on her face again. "Stop it. I mean it," her voice carried a trace of laughter.

"Okay, okay." Matt gazed at her for a moment, his smile fading.

"What?" she grumbled, feeling a twinge of self-consciousness under his gaze.

"Nothing. You're just really pretty," he said.

Moments like this only added to her confusion about where she stood in his life. Her heart skipped a beat, and she was momentarily taken aback, but she was swift to respond and hide her feelings. "Yeah, pretty annoyed at you," she said, pinching her nose to hide the forming blush.

Matt shook his head, a warm chuckle escaping his lips. He decided not to delve further into the matter. Why was he acting like this?

They lingered at the pool for a few more minutes. Matt's intimate touches making her melt, and his constant glances at her lips only added to the simmering heat of the Massachusetts summer.

The ride back home was interesting, she couldn't ignore the flutter of anticipation mixed with uncertainty that had settled in her heart. The day had been filled with subtle gestures and flirty remarks, leaving her wondering if their friendship was tiptoeing towards something more.

That night, when everyone had returned to the boys' home and a drowsy Matt lay beside her, she allowed herself to sleep soundly, knowing that something was undeniably changing between them.

February 3, 2022

Dear Matt,

I watched with Sam your new video. Chris mentioned about a little dinner you guys will have later, I’m so sad. I wish I was there. Anyway, Nick is Sam’s favorite. I couldn’t help but agree. Haha.

I know you’re busy with like stuff there and me too. My professors are killing me with these projects and assignments, also, I learned matcha helps with anxiety. I’ll have you taste it next time we see each other.

Also, you keep asking me why I’m sad, I didn’t think you would notice. How do I tell you, Matt, that the reason I’m sad is because I love you?

March 14, 2022

It has been so busy lately, oh my god. I lost my trusty pen because we moved dorms, but it’s all good now. I got so much work to do with finals coming up as well.

Anyway, I saw your tiktok with Nick today. You looked really cute with the Eeyore shirt, and I’m glad you’re still wearing that necklace I gave you last Christmas.

I miss you Matt. I’ll text you later when I’m done with class.

The car ride to IHOP proved to be quite intriguing, to say the least. Chris had evidently concocted a few surprises before their departure to California and before Spring break came to an end, forcing her to return to Morrissey Blvd.

Matt seemed unusually cheerful that day, expressing his desire to take her out, as well as everyone back home, for a little treat.

In that moment, it almost felt like things were back to the way they used to be. She occupied the passenger seat, engaged in a playful argument with Chris over control of the aux cord. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Matt, his amusement evident as he fought the urge to break into a broad smile.

As Nick and Chris hurried to enter the house after Matt had parked the car at their Somerville home, he prevented her from getting out. Matt fixed his gaze on her, a gentle smile dancing across his face, as he softly uttered, "I really missed you."

There he was again, stirring emotions within her, clouding her thoughts. "Me too," she responded shyly.

"Truth is, I wanted to spend the day with you, alone," he admitted, rolling his eyes playfully. "But I couldn't say no to them."

"That's okay."

A brief silence settled between them.

"What's on your mind, Matt?" She furrowed her brow, sensing that he had something he wanted to say something.

"Nothing. I'm just happy I'm home..." He trailed off, his voice carrying a hint of longing. "Seeing you, being here... with you."

Inside, she silently pleaded with him, "Don't do this to me, Matt. Don't say these things and expect me not to fall in love with you."

"Why? Has LA not been treating you well?" She pressed.

"No, no, LA's great," he replied, offering a smile before shifting his gaze towards their small garage at home.

"What is it?" she whispered softly, just loud enough for him to hear.

"I really don't know," he confessed.

Meeting his gaze once more, she couldn't help but smile. "Okay, then tell me once you've figured it out." She chose to lighten the mood, knowing that he was dangerously close to unraveling her with those looks he kept giving her.

April 8, 2022

Dear Matt,

Today you asked me what I want.

to be with you, that’s all I want.

September 2023

When Luke left for the San Diego, she looked around her room.

She gazed at the framed photo that hung beside her closet. In the picture, she and Matt were watching a movie, and slowly, they had leaned on each other. As they grew more comfortable, she had briefly considered adjusting her posture, but she couldn’t resist a sleepy Matt. The next thing she knew, his arms were wrapped around her, and they were nestled together, fast asleep. Neither of them had acknowledged it, but Nick had managed to sneakily capture a photo of them when he woke up at 4 a.m. to turn off the living room lights.

A bittersweet feeling loomed over her. She remembered the day all too well. With his mom waking them up for waffles and before things took a turn for the worst.

May 13, 2022

Hi Matt,

Only a few more months till I visit you guys in L.A. I’m kind of nervous but Chris assured me that everything would be fine.

I’m also excited to meet Madi, Nick said she’s nice, so I feel like we’ll get a long pretty well.

Everyone around them can see how much they love each other, from her mom and his mom to her dad, her sister, and even the entire Sturniolo family, including their grandmother. But a silent understanding prevailed; no one uttered a word about it. Perhaps they were all waiting for the day when Matt and her would finally act on their feelings. That's why when Luke entered the picture, it took everyone by surprise. Her mom, Elizabeth would drop hints about Matt’s brothers, mentioning that she saw their mom at the grocery store, and asks about Justin's new girlfriend, in which were all met with her silent nods. From behind her, her parents shared a knowing look.

Luke was the safe choice. He didn't make her feel like she had to beg for his love. He was dependable, polite to her parents, adored by her cousins, and fulfilled all the checkboxes of what she needed. He was unafraid of public displays of affection, and constantly tells that he loves her. Luke wasn't bothered by the story of her intimate friendship with Matt; he remained indifferent.

As time passed, the difference between Matt and Luke became more apparent. Luke, with his warmth and openness, brought stability and security to her life. Their relationship flowed smoothly, and the world seemed to accept them as a couple without question.

Yet, the blue-eyed boy who had once held her heart had an uncanny ability to infiltrate her thoughts. No matter how much she had tried to move on and embrace this new love, Matt remained an enigma. He was the unspoken part in her life, a book she couldn't close. She always wondered if he ever thought about her as she did about him.

It had been a few months since she had made the choice to be with Luke, months of happiness and contentment. But the heart has a way of keeping secrets, and hers held a special place for the blue-eyed boy in Los Angeles.

June 9, 2022

Dear Matt, two more months! God, I’m so over these classes, I swear. Samantha got really drunk two nights ago, it was so funny. I should’ve taken a video but whatever. Mom called me earlier today asking for my flight details, I guess she’s as excited as me.

July 16, 2022

Summer is finally here! I mean, it's been here for a while, but I'm looking forward to seeing all of you for your birthday next month. You better bring me to the thrift shops Nick was talking about the other day in the call.

August 17, 2022

I still can't quite believe you never told me about her. So, she was the girl Nick mentioned the last time you guys went home.

I couldn't help but notice the way you looked at me, and how I instinctively recoiled when she introduced herself. How did I not know? And why does she seem to know so much about me when I didn't even know her name?

Chris tried to console me that night, and I appreciated it. I also noticed how Nick was glancing at me, likely gauging my reaction to it all.

Matt, you don’t know what I’d give to stop being in love with you.

As the months passed, the girlfriend revelation of Matt was soon forgotten. She became increasingly immersed in college life. While Matt would text her from time to time and they would occasionally have video calls with Nick, she learned to accept the way things were. She had to make a conscious effort to push aside the memory of that night in Griffith Park when they had laughed and hugged, with her secretly gazing at his face and him giving her that look she adored. She came to the realization that if this was how things were going to be, she would be happy for him, even if it meant breaking her own heart. She contemplated Chris's words, but they didn't matter; what mattered was that Matthew was happy, and that's all she cared about. It seemed like everyone had forgotten about it too.

Matt was a private person, subtly posting little reminders of his girlfriend, but it didn't escape her notice how much it hurt her heart.

The longer she suppresses her emotions, the easier it seems, she believes. Suddenly, seven months have passed since that fateful night in LA, and March ‘23 is approaching steadily. Deep down, she's aware that she hasn't been honest with herself throughout this entire period, but she resigns herself to the reality of the situation. It is what it is, and she's compelled to carry on, masking her true feelings.

September 20, 2022

Dear Matt,

It's been a month since that night in LA, and Chris has never brought up our conversation again. I trust him. Life has felt quite mundane lately. I still have my moments, but I'm doing okay. I'm trying my best not to dwell on it too much. I suppose I felt betrayed, you know?

Yesterday, Chloe and Alahna came to visit, and we ate burgers. When I finally admitted my feelings to Alahna, I broke down. She told me she had always known I was in love with you, and with Chloe agreeing, both of them sharing the same sentiments, it left me wondering just how oblivious you can be.

October 5, 2022

Dear Matt,

I don’t know why you look at me that way, as though you could genuinely love me, even though deep down, I know you don't, and I know you won't.

Nick mentioned your plans for a trip to Florida to visit her. I tried to convince myself that it wouldn't hurt, but my own curiosity led me to check her Instagram. It was a mistake. I stumbled upon a photo of you two kissing on the beach, and I felt like such a fool for thinking this was something I could handle. I ended up in tears, obviously, poured my heart out to Samantha. I desperately wanted to forget, to stop these feelings.

I truly did try not to love you.

I really did.

November 3, 2022

"You know I hate these types of parties," she grumbled. "Do I even look good?"

"Girl, please, you look good every day," Madi assured her.

The night was still young, and everyone was on their way to this party the boys had been invited to. Chris was practically bouncing in the front of the car, and Matt, always effortlessly handsome, drove with calm and cool confidence.

Nick tried to comfort her. "You'll be fine. They're actually nice."

But she tuned out Nick's words as they entered the venue. The booming music only heightened her nervousness amid the lively crowd.

When Nick, Madi, and Chris entered the party, she found herself walking closely beside Matt. He was well aware of her uneasiness at these kinds of gatherings. With a gentle touch on her lower back, Matt guided her towards a group of people. Leaning in, he whispered into her ear, his face mere inches from hers, and for a moment, it felt like they were the only two people in the entire party. "You look really good tonight. Don't worry too much. I'm here."

A thought crossed her mind – he's such a flirt without even realizing it.

Under the party's red lights, his lips looked incredibly inviting. If only he didn't have a girlfriend living across the country, she might have kissed him. Of course, that's only if he wanted to kiss her too.

She sighed, as the party continued to buzz around them and the night progressed, surprisingly, she found herself genuinely enjoying the evening, engaging in conversations with Madi. However, she couldn't help but notice that Matt kept stealing glances at her. Fueled by newfound confidence, she walked up to him. "Hey, stranger," he greeted her with a smile, her savoring the sight of that familiar grin.

She could feel his warmth. "Shut up, Matthew. I'm so hot right now; you guys weren't kidding about Los Angeles being intense."

"You are hot, sweetheart."

"Yeah, this leather jacket Madi lent me—"

"No, I don't mean your outfit."

Before she knew it, their faces were inches apart, his eyes locked onto her lips. This was it, she thought. He was going to kiss her. After all those years of pining for him, the past didn't matter anymore. What mattered was now.

He was driving her crazy. And then it happened – he kissed her, and the world stopped. Their lips met in a passionate, consuming kiss. Sure, she had kissed boys in high school, but this was different. This was Matt. She could feel his hands on her neck and waist, his lips following hers when she needed to breathe. This was how it was supposed to be, she thought, her lips on Matt's. Her best friend, the boy she had loved since they were 18, kissing her beneath the Los Angeles night sky. As their lips remained locked in a passionate kiss, she felt an electric charge surge through her. All the inhibitions, the uncertainties, and the fear of what might follow were momentarily forgotten. All that mattered in that heart-pounding moment was the taste of Matthew Sturniolo on her lips, a forbidden but intoxicating sensation she had yearned for since they were teenagers.

“Five years of friendship flushed down the drain just so I could know what Matthew Sturniolo tastes like.” (Ifykyk. This is one of my favorite lines from a book!!)

When their lips brushed again, a soft moan threatened to escape her swollen lips, and her head began to swim with desire.

"Oh my god," she muttered senselessly, her mouth still locked with Matt's.

His touches ignited a fire within her, the heat of his mouth overwhelming her senses.

"Fuck," he breathed, pulling away from her and running his hands through his unruly hair. "Fuck, I shouldn't have done that."

Her stomach sank as embarrassment washed over her. She didn't speak for a moment, still reeling from the intensity of the kiss. "I'm sorry."

"No, I—" He choked on his words. Horror painted his expression as he struggled to make eye contact with her. "I shouldn't be kissing you."

His internal conflict was palpable, and the emotions on his face left her feeling utterly perplexed. They were both breathless, caught in a state of shock. She was about to cry when Chris walked in with a cup full of soda.

"Are you guys ready to go? Nick's about to beat a bitch up-" Chris asked laughing, seemingly oblivious to what had just transpired. "What happened, Matt?"

A concerned look began to appear on Chris’ face as he assessed the aftermath of the situation.

"Just let it go, Chris," Matt muttered, looking at the ground.

"Let's go," she insisted, taking quick strides past Chris to find Nick and Madi, eager to get away from the confusing situation and head back home. Meanwhile, Chris tried once more, his voice hushed as he approached his brother. "What happened, Matt?" Seeing Matt in such a shocked state had him deeply concerned and worried about his brother.

November 29, 2022

I never should have visited again and allowed you to kiss me the way you did because I couldn't stop thinking about it afterward. The pure shock and regret in your eyes were enough to shatter me into pieces. We never discussed it when we got back to your house. Chris, with his knowing glances, probably figured it out, and I know you told him but thankfully, he didn't press the issue. The morning after was just as uneasy; you didn't come out from your room until 4 pm. Nick was concerned, but I was too nervous to say anything, feeling like a colossal mistake that had happened.

But I knew, when you looked at me to say goodbye at the airport, that I was hoping it meant even a fraction as much to you as it did to me.

We didn't speak for two weeks following that day, but today you sent me a text saying you were sorry. Our conversation resumed, but neither of us mentioned it again. I didn't ask if you had told her; that was none of my business.

You have to understand, Matt, that before you kissed me, I was always yours, if only you had looked closely enough to see it.

Christopher Sturniolo had never appeared shocked in his entire life. It was as if the heavens had granted him this shocking revelation.

Nick's voice echoed, "Okay, what the hell happened between you two at that party? You've been moping for days, and you didn't even take out the trash when I asked you to!"

"We kissed!" Matt lashed out at Nick. “Happy now, Nick?”

"Oh, shit. This is good. I mean no, this is bad, you have a girlfriend," Chris winced.

Matt's thoughts raced to Florida. His girlfriend’s going to be furious.

"I know," he muttered, feeling a headache coming on.

Days had passed since they dropped her off at the airport and her departure making Matt more confused as ever.

He groaned, unable to believe he had allowed that situation to unfold. He had also been ignoring her.

"Get your shit together, Matt. Seriously, you can't just kiss her and pretend it didn't happen!" Nick's frustration was too intense for Matt's liking.

"This is bad, Matt," Madi's voice sounded small as she contemplated the situation, her thoughts divided between the girl in Florida and the other one in Boston. This was undoubtedly going to be a messy affair, she thought.

Their comments offered no solace to Matt's torn heart, a whirlwind of suppressed feelings from his teenage years. He didn't genuinely regret the kiss, but he had a girlfriend, someone good who trusted him, and he had shattered that trust by succumbing to his feelings for his best friend.

"Okay, okay, Matt, breathe," Chris tried to comfort his brother.

"I can't do this," Matt said, standing up in frustration. "Let's not talk about this again. It's too much."

He stormed off and slammed his bedroom door shut, leaving Nick, Chris, and Madi in stunned silence.

"I don't understand why he just won't admit that she's always been it for him?" Madi questioned, her gaze shifting between the two brothers.

"Because he's an idiot, Madi," Nick replied, his annoyance evident in his tone.

The situation was complicated, and he couldn't shake the feeling that he was playing with fire. His relationship with his girlfriend was hanging by a thread, and the unspoken tension with his best friend was driving him to the brink of frustration.

Matt knew he had to make a choice, a decision that could alter the course of his life. The pain of knowing he had hurt someone he cared about and the fear of losing the person who had been his confidant for years weighed heavily on him.

He was at a crossroads, and there was no easy path to take. He couldn't escape the truth, unsure of where his heart truly belonged.

December 20, 2022

Dear Matt,

It seems like things have returned to normal. Nick has stopped bombarding me with constant texts, asking if I'm okay, and Chris's late-night calls have ceased. I heard you broke up with her, I know you'd never share all the gritty details with me, but it probably was for the best. I can't help but feel like a terrible person for playing a role in your relationship's downfall. Alahna said it wasn’t my fault, but I feel like she’s just saying that, you know? I can't shake this feeling, I keep thinking I wasn't worth the risk. But then, you had a girlfriend at the time, so I understood. You'll have to forgive me, because I've never stopped thinking about that night since you kissed me.No one will ever be able to knock the wind out of me again. Not like that, not like you, Matthew.

January 2023

Matt clung to the familiar comforts of their Boston home, the very thought of remaining in the same bed that had cradled him in warmth and surrounded by the cherished memories of his childhood with his brothers offered solace to his melancholic heart.

Despite the fact that it was only the second week of January, the jarring noise of Nick's suitcase scraping against the floor downstairs served as an unwelcome reminder of the imminent reality awaiting him in just two days.

He yearned for the days before their move to California when life was different. He pined for the crisp, cold embrace of winter and the warm, welcoming smile she had for him whenever she would visit. Without a doubt, summer was his least favorite season.

Three days ago was her birthday, yet she was still in Nantucket, enjoying a vacation with her family. She texted him just two hours ago, explaining that she would be busy exploring the place with her aunt.

He had also gifted her a necklace, a token of their shared memories, as she had once given him last Christmas ago. The necklace was a heart-shaped silver pendant, a symbolic representation of his heart. He had chosen it with such devotion that Chris had teased him, saying he was like choosing an engagement ring. Matt silently agreed, but the truth was, he couldn't forget that night, the kiss they had shared, and how she had looked painfully beautiful beneath the soft, dim lights of the party.

His mom offered a comforting hug upon their arrival from the airport; Nick had probably told her over the phone about what had happened last November. As he looked around, everything had changed, yet he always felt the same.

He noticed it, as did everyone else, when Alahna and Nate visited; she didn't come. She was distant, and he couldn't help but feel guilty. It was all his fault. He had kissed her and pretended it didn't happen, only offering a sorry that didn't even comfort his own heart. Matt couldn't help but recall the conversations he had with his brothers late at night, in the car, about her being in love with him. Had he been so foolish not to notice the longing glances she directed his way?

It was four days after Christmas when he finally got up and entered Chris's room, the brightly lit space giving him a headache.

He found his brother scrolling through his phone, stress evident on Matt's face.

"Wow, you look like shit," Chris said, looking up. "What's going on? Nate has been bugging us to go to his house. Apparently..."

"Chris," Matt whispered, frustrated.

Chris leaned in, his concern evident in his eyes. "What's eating at you, Matt?" Matt had now settled on his bed, his legs touching Chris's sock-covered feet.

Matt sighed heavily, his emotions bubbling to the surface. "It's her. Something's not right, and I can't ignore it anymore. I kissed her, and then I acted like it never happened. I gave her this weak apology that didn't even begin to cover it. Now she's distant, and I can't shake this feeling that it's all my fault."

Chris listened attentively, his brows furrowing with understanding. "You've been worried about this for a while, huh?"

Matt nodded, the weight of the situation pressing on him. "Yeah. I mean, remember we've had late-night talks about her having feelings for me?  And now, I can't help but wonder if I've been too blind to see it. Maybe I've hurt her more than I realized."

Chris put a comforting hand on his brother's shoulder. "Look, you can't change the past, but you can talk to her, try to understand how she feels. Maybe it's not as bad as you think."

A beat passed as Matt solemnly gazed at his brother.

"I think I'm in love with her, Chris. Nick was right. I am in love with her," Matt said, eyes heavy from lack of sleep.

With Matt's confession hanging heavily in the air, Chris finally broke his silence. He leaned forward, a half-smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Congrats Matt, you're the last one to know," he said. "We've known for a long time that you felt this way."

Matt sat up, eyes widened in surprise. "You have?"

Chris nodded. "Yeah, it was kind of obvious, the way you'd light up every time she walked into the room. Mom mentioned before that you guys are two peas in a pod. She said it was only a matter of time before you realized she had always been here."

Matt sighed, unsure of himself. "I have no idea what to do, Chris. I'm just so scared of messing everything up."

"Well, technically you already did, idiot," Chris grinned sheepishly. “Just tell her how you feel. What's the worst that could happen?"

January 19, 2023

Chris was being weird, big time. He kept asking if I have talked to you. We talk every day, don’t we? Does he not know that?

Anyway, Chris being Chris, I guess.

You wanted me to visit for Spring break again, but I don’t think I can, but I’ll see you when you fly for Nate’s birthday in June. I cannot wait.

You seemed different these days, Matt.

As days turned into weeks, Matt struggled with his emotions in silence. He couldn’t bear the thought of losing her and making things awkward between them. His ex-girlfriend didn't handle his confession well. She said had expected it and firmly told him not to contact her again.

This situation took a toll on Matt because he never intended for things to become so complicated. He was willing to do anything to prevent it.

Realizing he was in love with his best friend left a bittersweet feeling in his heart. He had been fooling himself all these time with him ignoring the intimate moments they shared and him being clueless as to why she reacted the way she did when she found out he had a girlfriend or when he kissed her.

He wanted nothing more than to fly to the East Coast just to see her, but he felt like it wasn't the right time, especially with college going on.

Matt appreciated the updates from her about school and life, but he can't help but feel things have changed in the air between them especially when she turned down the suggestion of her visiting again for the upcoming spring break. Matt understood and he knows that she too, was processing her own feelings just as he was.

Chris, talkative and ever supportive, insisted that she had always loved Matt too, with Nick joining in on the teasing, he couldn't help but feel hopeful. All of his loved ones reassuring him that things had always been this way. Two peas in a pod.

His Mom also called the other day after Nick had shared the details with her. “Oh, honey, we’ve always known,” her sweet voice comforting Matt. “Don’t worry about a thing; I’m certain she has loved you since the day she laid eyes on you.”

February 14, 2023

Dear Matt,

Samantha teased me today about not having a Valentine's date, but I told her I didn't need one. Anyway, seeing all the couples around campus makes me miss you even more and I know I might sound negative but it's a bit overwhelming.

I remember 2 valentines ago when you made me that pink cupcake with a heart on it. You were so excited to give it to me that you had a little argument with Nick in the car because he was taking too long to get ready, and you couldn't wait for me to see it. I also remember that rainy Valentine's Day when you stopped by my house just to give me the flowers you had bought earlier that day. The soft look on your face, the sly smile and damp hair was enough to make my knees weak. I also remember how Chris snickered from the passenger seat when you said the flowers reminded you of me. I miss you so much Matt. I wish you could have been here with me today, but you're in Palm Springs having a blast.

It's already February, Matt and I don't know how many more seasons I'll spend loving you.

February 14, 2019

"Hurry up, you idiot. Holy shit, I've been sitting here in the car for 20 minutes, and you're still not ready," Matt complained, clearly annoyed.

"Wow, Matt, what's gotten into you? Sorry, holy fuck," Nick responded, taken aback by his brother's sudden outburst.

Chris chimed in; his teasing tone evident as he laughed. "Calm down, Matt, I'm sure she'll understand if we're a little late."

"Shut up, Chris, it's not that. It's just the fact that Nick always does this," Matt retorted, starting the car.

"Is this what this is about? You being excited to give her your cupcake?" Nick teased, making a face at Chris and smirking.

"You're stupid, Nick." Matt grumbled, proceeding to drive down the familiar road to her house, a route he had taken many times before.

February 14, 2020

"Chris, come on, wake up!" Matt's voice boomed through his brother's room. It was 3 pm in the afternoon, and Nick had already been pestering them to go out. "I'm up, please get out of my face, Matt. I'll kill you," Chris grumbled sleepily.

With Chris in his usual grumpy state and Nick being overly excited, Matt found himself stopping by a nearby flower shop in Somerville. As he stood in front of the various types of flowers, his focused remained on a bouquet of tulips. He had heard from their mom the other day how exceptionally pretty tulips were.

Unbeknownst to Matt, Chris had slipped out of the car to join him. "You're getting flowers for her?" Chris asked, his tone laced with teasing.

"Yeah," Matt replied with a nonchalant shrug.

"Huh," Chris remarked, flashing a smile at the elderly woman behind the counter before turning his gaze back to his brother. "Why?"

"Because" Matt rolled his eyes, "why not?"

"Fair enough, geez, I'm just curious."

"Do you think she'll like tulips?"

Chris grinned and gave his brother an incredulous look, as if he found Matt's question amusingly strange. "She'll absolutely love them, Matt."

"Great," Matt said, clapping his hands together. "I'll get it," he cheerfully declared, already making his way toward the old woman.

With his usual teasing, Chris added, "Why don't you pick up some chocolates and write her a love letter too while you're at it?" He couldn't help but shake his head and chuckle.

"Shut up, Chris," Matt said dismissively.

As the rain began to pour, Chris watched his brother buy the flowers and wondered how unaware Matt can be with his own feelings.

March 2023

It was the week of Samantha's birthday, and she found herself contemplating on going. She didn't want to come across as a buzzkill for considering not attending, but the truth was, she often found immense joy in staying in on Friday nights. However, there were moments when she felt sad while lying in bed, especially upon hearing from Madi that all of them was heading to a party. Her thoughts would drift to Matt, wondering how he was doing or if he met someone. She tried to push the thoughts away still.

Matt would text her late at night updating her that he was already home, and she would read his messages in the morning. She hated how different their lives now were, with her being in college and him having the time of his life in California.

Sadness washed over her again when she remembered the kiss, they had shared last year. It saddened her to think that it might not have meant as much to Matt as it did to her, but it felt too late to bring it up now. He had apologized, and she had told him to forget about it.

With a change of heart, she confirmed to Samantha that she would indeed attend her birthday celebration. It was time to step out and have some fun, she thought. If Matt could do it, so could she.

The backyard of the Airbnb is transformed with colorful decorations and fairy lights are strung along the trees. The little bonfire in the center, surrounded by Samantha's friends chatting and laughing made her anxious, there is a lot more people than she thought.

She spotted Samantha and approached her cheerfully. "Samantha! Happy birthday!"

"Oh my gosh, you're here! I've been waiting for you. I'm so glad you made it."

"Me too," she replied, enveloping the curly-haired birthday girl in a warm embrace.

"Please, enjoy yourself tonight, alright? We have drinks and food in the kitchen, and I think Lorraine is around here somewhere," Samantha mentioned.

"Yeah, of course. You don't need to worry about me. I'll have a great time," she reassured her. "Go ahead and mingle."

"Alright, I'll catch up with you later, okay?" Samantha planted a peck on her cheek and continued welcoming other guests.

When she surveyed the crowd, she mentally reminded herself to grab a drink to avoid just standing there awkwardly. The party was in full swing, and despite her nagging desire to be in her cozy bed, she was determined to have a great time.

"Hey girl, how are you? I didn't see you come in. Have you seen Sam yet?" Lorraine greeted her with a warm hug, while Hannah waved.

"Hi, Lor, I'm good. And yeah, I just did. I just got here too so," she replied.

"That's great. You didn't get lost, did you?" Lorraine said with a playful grin.

She chuckled, “No."

Lorraine is Samantha's best friend from high school, she has long black hair, sharp eyes, and legs for days.

"Do you drink?" Lorraine asked, as Hannah busied herself mixing drinks at the counter.

"Uh, sometimes," she admitted, although deep down, she wasn't really fond of alcohol but tonight was different, though. She was feeling bold and what's a little alcohol after a rough week?

"We've got plenty here—tequila, beer, vodka, and all that jazz."

"I'll take a beer, please," she decided, opting for a more casual choice.

As the night wore, she took small sips of her drink and appreciated the light-hearted conversations with Lorraine and Hannah, which kept her from constantly checking her phone. Two hours ago, Matt sent her a text about whatever, but she ignored it. Truth is, she still feels a little hurt and awkward with him because of everything that has happened. Just for the night, she allowed herself to clear her mind of thoughts about the blue-eyed boy in California.

"I need to use the bathroom. I'll be right back," she informed the couple, receiving only nods in response.

Aware of the dangers of drink spiking, she was cautious and brought her beer with her.

The hallways were narrow, and she wondered how many people had made out in these halls. There were many rooms too and photo frames with inspiring quotes that adorned the walls. Her trip to the bathroom was going fine until she bumped into a guy.

“I'm so sorry," she apologized frantically, searching for the green tissue pack in her little bag while setting the glass of beer on a nearby table. Her white top was now stained with liquor, which was just great. The embarrassment of the situation was overwhelming, leaving her unable to think straight.

"No worries," The guy chuckled, clearly taken aback by the unexpected encounter. "I should've been more careful."

She handed him the tissues, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "That was so embarrassing. I'm truly sorry," she said with a sheepish smile.

"Don't worry about it. It’ll dry," he replied with a reassuring smile.

“"I'm really sorry," she winced as she saw him examining his now alcohol-soaked shirt.

"It's okay," he smiled softly, causing her cheeks to turn pink. When he noticed her freezing in embarrassment, he spoke up again, "Hey, apology accepted. Please don't worry about it. I can just wipe this off, and I'll be fine."

She nodded and whispered, "I'm so embarrassed."

"Really, I'm over it now. Besides, it's my fault for not looking. You got drenched too," he chuckled, glancing at her blouse.

"Yeah, don't worry about me. It's not as bad as yours. Can I at least help you with that?" she offered.

"What? Help me wipe this beer off? Nah, I'm good. You go do your thing," he dismissed her with another friendly smile.

Feeling somewhat defeated, she simply nodded and said, "Alright."

In the bathroom, she found herself shaking her head in embarrassment while trying to wash off the small beer stain on her top. The night is not going well, and she was starting to regret not staying home. Why did embarrassing situations always seem to find her at parties?

After a few minutes of recovery and self-reflection, she returned to where Lorraine and Hannah were. But before she could reach the couple, she spotted the guy she had bumped into earlier. Hannah was chatting with him and giggling, while Lorraine wore an amused expression that made her feel even more self-conscious. Great, he knew them and had definitely shared the incident with them.

Hannah noticed her approaching and said, "Oh, I see you've already met our friend, Luke!"

The mischievous glint in Hannah's eyes confirmed that he had indeed told what had happened.

"Yeah," she replied shyly, smiling. "I think he has already told you how we met."

Luke laughed while Lorraine snickered. "Don't worry, he's not upset with you. In fact, he thinks you're cute, right Luke?"

"Oh..."

"Ignore Lorraine. Nice to meet you," he said, flashing her a warm smile and offered his hand. She couldn't help but notice the dimples in his cheeks or how perfectly curled his hair was.

"You too," she replied with a smile, shaking his hand, feeling her embarrassment vanish little by little.

Matthew Sturniolo was confused once again for the millionth time in his life, and his brothers found it funny.

Just five minutes ago, Nick mentioned she was at a party. Matt's head shot up upon hearing what his brother said.

"So, that's why she wasn't replying," Matt said, fingers fast on opening Instagram. "She didn't mention about going to a party."

With furrowed brows, he watched her story, where a girl with jet black hair was seen pouring a drink into a red up. The background confirming that she was indeed at a crowded party.

"She doesn't have to share everything with you, you know?" Nick rolled his eyes, as if Matt should already know this.

Chris chuckled, rising from his slouched position on the couch. "Yeah, you guys aren't dating, so why should she keep you in the loop about everything?"

Chris was teasing him, and he was aware of it. Nick gave Chris a look that said, 'who does he think he is?'

But Matt didn't care. It bothered him that she didn't even tell him knowing how much she disliked parties. He reopened their text conversation and stared at his unanswered message.

He sent another text:

Hey, just checking in. Saw your Instagram story. Hope everything's ok 😊

Turning to his brothers, who were now grinning, Matt asked, somewhat annoyed, "What?"

"Come on, Matt, lighten up. She can take care of herself," Chris teased again.

"She's a grown woman, Matt," Nick shrugged.

"Fine, I don't care," Matt grumbled, shifting his attention to the TV in front of him.

"Except you do, lover boy," Nick replied, and Chris laughed.

Matt stayed quiet, ignoring his brothers' teasing. He didn't need to know every detail of her life, and Chris was right. She could manage on her own but tonight he just felt uneasy. Was she ignoring him on purpose? Is he losing her?

He did his best to shake the thoughts as he stared at his empty notifications bar, hoping it wouldn't bother him as the night wore.

“Trouble in paradise?” Luke asked curiously, a playful smile gracing his beautiful face as he observed her reaction to a text message she had received, which seemed to elicit an anxious sigh from her, if Luke were to point it out.

She nervously chuckled and replied, "No, it's just my best friend asking how I'm doing," explaining helplessly. Luke nodded, choosing not to press any further.

They were now outside, surrounded by the soft chatter and faint music coming from the house. Lorraine and Hannah had left them 15 minutes ago to mingle with the other guests.

"So, is Sam a good roommate?" Grateful that he was attempting to initiate conversation and maintain a lighthearted atmosphere, considering what happened earlier. Lorraine had already explained that they had all been friends since high school and that Samantha was her roommate.

She chuckled and replied, "Yes, she is, thankfully. Although she tends to dance when she's drunk."

Luke laughed and shook his head, agreeing, "I heard she could be a handful when drunk," recalling a conversation he had with his own friends years ago.

"What do you study, again?" She asked, changing the subject. Realizing she couldn't quite remember what he had mentioned earlier, as she had been preoccupied with trying to forget the awkward bathroom encounter.

"Oh, I study business at SDSU, same school as Lorraine," he replied. “You’re studying computer science, right?”

She nodded, unwilling to discuss her major further. "How's Boston treating you? Do you enjoy it here so far?"

"Well, I've only been here for three days, and I've still got two more to go, but yeah, I like it. Just not used to the weather, that's all," Luke replied, looking down at her.

"Oh, yeah, I completely agree. Boston's weather is moody, unlike California's. It's very different," she said.

"I don't mind," Luke shrugged. "It's my first time here, after all."

"Really?" She turned to face him fully.

"Yeah, don't tell anyone, but I've never actually been to any state other than where I live," he chuckled, taking a sip of his own drink.

"Well, I think you deserve a proper tour from a native!" She looked up at him, smiling.

"You think so?" Luke grinned at her knowingly, his eyes twinkling with playfulness.

"Yeah, I mean, I've got nothing to do. I'm finished with most of my projects."

She couldn't pinpoint the source of her newfound confidence, whether it was the influence of alcohol or perhaps Luke’s casual smiles and affectionate glances throughout the evening.

He laughed, obviously amused by her eagerness, and she couldn't help but notice how nice his teeth were and how his curls looked.

"What's so funny?" She raised her eyebrows at him, a faint smile on her lips.

Still smiling, Luke replied, "Nothing, you're really cute."

She went silent, a blush forming on her cheeks. She was about to speak when he continued, "But yeah, a tour would be nice. Maybe we could get some lobsters?"

She snickered, the alcohol giving her confidence once again. "Are you asking me out on a date?"

"If you want it to be," he shrugged coolly, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Well, it's not a date. I'm just a new friend touring my new friend in the city," she declared.

He chuckled once again, his voice ringing in her ears. "Okay then, it's not a date."

She didn't even realize how engrossed they were in each other until Samantha approached them with a wide smile. "I see you two have already met," Samantha said, her eyes holding a hint of mischief.

"Sam!" She turned her attention away from Luke, her surprise evident. "Hi. Yeah, it's kind of a long story," she said, offering a sheepish smile.

Luke chuckled. "Your roommate here seems eager to show me around the city."

"Is that so?" Samantha looked between them, clearly amused.

The atmosphere remained light-hearted. Samantha’s playful smirk hinted at her enjoyment of the situation.

“Well, if she’s offering to be your tour guide, you’re in for a treat,” Samantha said, looking at Luke with a playful glint in her eye. “She knows all the best spots in Boston.”

Luke nodded with enthusiasm. “I have no doubt about that. I’m excited.”

Samantha winked at them both. “You’re in good hands.”

She understood that Samantha was insinuating something else. She wasn't stupid and she very was certain that tomorrow, the birthday girl would pester her about this encounter with Luke.

Samantha and Lorraine gave them knowing looks after Luke offered to walk her home and after a moment’s hesitation, she agreed. It was just a 10-minute walk to campus, after all.  She didn’t want to be rude, but she also didn't want to walk home all alone at night.

She couldn’t help but remember Matt. Her Matt. The Matt she had been ignoring for hours now.

It had been an eternity since someone had taken the time to do this for her. She remembered from their high school days, how Matt used to walk her to her door, the way their hands would touch a little while walking, and her secret hope that he would kiss her goodbye. Of course, Matt never did.

“It’s been so long,” she whispered, her heart aching, unintentionally saying it out loud. Luke stopped mid-sentence.

“What?” He asked, confused.

She shook her head, caught off guard by her unexpected outpouring of emotion. “Oh, I’m sorry. I got a bit lost in thought. Please continue, what were you saying?”

“You did seem a little distracted all night. Is this still about the drink you spilled?”

“No, something else,” she replied, stealing another glance at her phone. Matt’s unanswered goodnight message, sent 20 minutes ago, weighed on her. “Just a lot happening in my life,” she chuckled, attempting to make it sound light for Luke’s benefit.

“Like school?” Luke asked again, his gaze steady.

“Yeah, something like that,” she answered, slipping her phone into her jeans pocket, concealing her suppressed longing.

Matt rose from his bed, finding no solace for his troubled heart in its confines. He headed downstairs to see if Chris was still awake.

"Hey, you up?" Matt opened the door to find his brother engrossed in his phone.

Chris looked up and said, "Oh, hey. Yeah."

Matt let out a long sigh and flopped down on Chris's bed.

"Uh-oh," Chris turned off his phone and turned his full attention to Matt. "She still hasn't replied to your texts?"

"Nope," Matt grumbled. "I want to call her."

"Matt," Chris frowned, "Don't. I'm sure she's fine."

"This is just not like her," Matt added, feeling stupid.

"I thought you didn't care?" Chris teased.

"Of course, I care," Matt sighed, rolling his eyes.

"Damn, you’re really down bad.”

"Chris, what's keeping her so busy at this party? Tell me, have you ever been so engrossed at a party that you forget to check your phone all night?" Matt asked, sitting up as he tried to calm his racing mind and heart.

"Uh," Chris tried to think, but honestly, he wanted to say no. There was no plausible reason she would be so absorbed unless she was actively ignoring Matt.

"You see?" Matt widened his eyes, attempting to convince his brother. "What if something happened to her?"

Chris intervened, "Whoa, we're jumping to conclusions here. Look, Matt, I'll call her."

Matt watched hopefully as the seconds passed by.

Five rings, and then her voice came through the speakers. "Chris?" Her voice sweet as a honey to Matt's ears. She must have made it home because he couldn't hear any background noise.

How could she answer Chris and not even reply to his texts?

"Hey, look, I'm sorry. Did I wake you? Matt here has been worried sick about you. You're not replying to his texts—"

Matt snatched the phone from Chris's hand. "I'm sorry. Chris is an idiot. I'm not worried, trust me."

There was a brief silence, and Chris facepalmed, whispering, "What are you saying, Matt?"

When she didn't reply, Matt continued, "I mean, I am worried. Just checking in, you know?"

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"Sorry, no, yeah, I'm good. I just got caught up with friends, that's why I didn't get the chance to reply." A lie.

Matt paced slowly in Chris's room, trying to imagine her face. Chris gave him a look that said, 'What are you doing? Get it together.'

"I was a little concerned," Matt admitted chuckling, downplaying his worries.

"I'm fine, Matt. I just got home 20 minutes ago," she replied, her voice a whisper. She must be smiling, Matt thought, though he couldn't see her.

"Thanks for checking in, and sorry for not answering your texts," she added.

"That's... that's okay. I'm glad you're home and safe."

"Me too. This guy was kind enough to walk me home. I mean Samantha's friend from the party, Luke."

Matt and Chris exchanged surprised glances. "Luke?"

"Yeah, he was really nice. Offered to walk me. Also, I didn't tell you, but I spilled beer on him, which was embarrassing, but he was sweet about it, so we're good."

Chris snickered, and Matt shot him a hard stare, his stomach sinking by the minute. Who the hell is Luke?

"You can't be serious," Matt chuckled, trying to conceal his concern. “What?”

"No, I'm dead serious. We talked all night, and then, yeah, that's it. I offered to show him around Boston tomorrow, just to make up for what happened, I guess." She continued her story, seemingly unaware of how it was affecting Matt.

Matt couldn't hide his unease. "You just met him like 3 hours ago, and now you're spending the day with him? Who is this guy?"

"No, he's really nice, I swear. Plus, he's Samantha's friend, so..." She was quick to defend.

"I'm just saying, you don't know this guy well enough to spend your whole day with him," Matt said, growing more upset by the minute.

"Well, how am I supposed to know him if we're not going to hang out?"

Chris chuckled, shaking his head, while Matt tried to keep his feelings in check.

"Up to you. I'm just looking out for you, you know that. Again, just saying. Be careful," Matt replied, struggling to hide his true emotions.

"Yes, Dad," she teased, rolling her eyes, though she was likely fighting off a smile.

"I'm serious. I'm just looking out," Matt insisted.

"I appreciate that, Matt. Don't worry, I'll update you guys tomorrow. Also, do you still remember the address of that pasta place we visited a year ago where Chris fell in love with the chicken alfredo?"

"I'll ask him," Matt's voice sounded small. He felt like he was losing her by the second. Who was this guy? Were they going on a date? He can already feel a headache coming and a lump forming in his throat.

"I'll text you the address," Chris shouted from across the room.

"Alright, I think I'm going to bed. I'm really tired," she said, still painfully unaware of Matt's feelings.

"Okay, then. Go to sleep. Text me tomorrow," Matt pleaded, his voice carrying a sense of desperation. "Please."

"I will, Matt. Goodnight."

"Goodnight."

"Goodnight, Chris."

"Goodnight!" Chris cheerfully replied, clearly enjoying the situation way more than Matt was.

Deep inside, she felt a bit guilty for distancing herself from Matt, ignoring his texts, and even considering dating other guys, possibly including Luke in the future.

However, she loved Matt for a long time, but he never felt the same way. Some days it felt like he did, especially that time he had kissed her, but it was never enough. She believed that if he had ever felt the same way about her, she would have been aware of it by now.

She was becoming tired of constantly holding onto false hope, longing for a love that would never happen and yearning for a touch that seemed always just out of reach. She desired to be consumed by his fire, even if it meant getting burned.

She craved the warmth of his affection, the reassurance of his reciprocation, and the simple comfort of knowing that her love was not in vain.

Truth to be told, she knew that Matt deserved to know the depth of her feelings, even if it meant facing the harsh reality that he might not feel the same way. Love, after all, deserved to be known. On the other hand, she feared the potential fallout – the awkwardness, the possibility of rejection, and the damage it could do to their friendship.

She couldn't escape the fact that she had held this love within her for so long, it had become a part of her very being. It was like an unspoken truth that lingered in the air whenever they were together.

"Love has a right to be spoken. And you have the right to know that somebody loves you." - Ursula K. Le Guin, A Fisherman of the Inland Sea

From the moment she pushed open the imposing wooden doors of the campus, she spotted Luke, leaning against a tree. The sunlight played upon his brown hair, making it appear lighter, and his eyes took on a golden hue.

It was undeniable, Luke was handsome. Every time she looked at him, it felt like a breath of fresh air on a crisp morning. Maybe it was something about the way his eyes locked onto her when she told stories, or how effortlessly he could reply with clever comebacks that always seemed perfectly timed. It was the way he carried himself that caused her poor heart to race a little.

When he caught sight of her, his face lit up. "Hey you," he grinned, his hands tucked into his pockets.

She returned his warm smile. "Hey yourself," she replied playfully, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “You ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he said, extending his arm, inviting her to link hers with his.

She shot him a look that said, ‘I’m not doing that,’ but she rolled her eyes, still smiling and continued walking.

Luke caught up with her, shaking his head with amusement.

Walking side by side, Luke kept his hands in his pockets, while she tucked hers inside her jacket to shield herself from the chilly air. She couldn’t wait for March to be over.

The curly-haired boy was surprised when he noticed a list of places on her notes app. Luke found it incredibly cute that she had taken the time to jot it all down for him.

“Oh my god, I can’t believe you’ve listed everything,” he chuckled, glancing at her phone to catch a glimpse of their planned destinations. “You’re really committed to this, aren’t you?”

Despite his best efforts to meet her eyes, she remained engrossed in her phone, her gaze fixed on the screen. “Of course. I did say I’ll show you the city, remember?”

Luke’s curiosity was piqued, and his eyebrows raised. A small smile played on his lips. “Do you always do this?”

She couldn’t help but laugh at his question. It was quite out of character for her to agree to tour someone around the city, especially when they had only met the night before. But Luke had proven to be a pleasant distraction from the strange texts she had been receiving from Matt lately plus he was really cute.

“To be honest,” she began, looking up from her phone to turn to Luke, “no. I just felt like doing something different today.” Her gaze softened as she spoke, and for a moment, her thoughts drifted to what Matt had texted her earlier that morning.

‘You do know that’s a date, right?’

Her response was that it wasn’t, explaining that she was simply acting as a good friend, and this left her message without a reply.

As the day went on, she found herself more and more drawn to Luke. If she were to describe the distraction from her unrequited love, who was miles away from the East Coast, it would undoubtedly be a flirty man with curly brown hair, coffee-colored eyes, and a smile that could light up any room he walked into.

With a playful tone, she leaned in and asked, “So, what’s one more thing on your Boston bucket list, aside from the lobsters?”

They sat together at a cozy coffee shop near the school, where a handful of students were studying. The shop’s walls were adorned with rustic brown bricks, and colorful flowers added a touch of charm. As the sun began its descent, the interior was bathed in a golden hue, creating a warm and inviting atmosphere.

Samantha had just texted her asking how the date with Luke in which she replied again that it was not.

Luke paused for a moment, considering the question. “Well, I’ve heard Fenway Park is pretty iconic.”

She agreed, reaching for her cup yet again. “That’s a fantastic choice! You’ll get to experience the true Boston sports culture.”

Luke grinned, appreciating her enthusiasm for everything he says. “And what about you? Any more must-see places you’d recommend?”

She thought for a moment, remembering the restaurant Chris loved, but chose not to mention it, as if she were safeguarding a secret that the world couldn’t know, the restaurant symbolizing memories that were now part of the past. Instead, she decided to keep their conversation in the present, allowing it to flow naturally.

She smiled shyly, a glint in her eyes, as she playfully remarked, “If I didn’t know any better, I think you’re just finding reasons to see me again.”

Luke's grin widened, his charm shining even brighter. "Ah, you've caught me," he admitted, "guilty as charged but who could resist an opportunity to explore Boston with such beautiful company?"

Her shy smile only added to the allure of the moment, and he couldn't help but appreciate the twinkle in her eyes. "Well," he continued, his tone dipping into a more flirtatious register, "if this is me saying I’d like to see you again, then what do you say? Perhaps you could be my personal tour guide for a while longer?"

She couldn't help but blush at him. "If that's your way of saying you'd like to see me again, then I say you're in luck,” she teased.  “I wouldn't mind being your tour guide for a while longer."

Luke laughed, his face lighting up at her response, and he couldn't help but shake his head amusingly. "That's fantastic news! I supposed I'll have to come up with even more reasons to see you then."

Her smile remained coy, eyes locking onto his. "I look forward to it."

“But on a Saturday, in a café, she watched it begin again.”

(ifykyk haha)

May 2023

Nick Sturniolo couldn't tolerate it any longer; once again, his brother was wallowing in his room, shrouded in darkness with the covers pulled over his head. It seemed like Matt's sole agenda was eating and sleeping these days.

"That's enough," Nick's voice reverberated through Matt's room, with Chris trailing behind him. "This has to stop. Seriously, you need to get out."

Matt grumbled, squeezing his eyes shut. "No, Nick."

"Dude, come on." While Chris empathized with his brother's emotions, he knew that spending five days holed up in bed was far from ideal. "Have you even talked to her?"

"No," came the quiet, dismissive reply.

Exchanging concerned glances, Chris and Nick understood that Matt was avoiding them once again. Unmoved, Nick reached out and yanked the covers away, leaving Matt exposed from his warm cocoon.

"Nooo, Nick," Matt whined, rising from his bed, and walking past them into the bathroom. "Can you two just leave me alone?"

"Matt, please, this needs to stop," Nick pleaded, following him. However, Matt shut the bathroom door before Nick could utter another word.

Chris shook his head, deeply concerned. "This is getting out of hand."

"I'll call her," Nick declared, determined to mend his brother's broken heart as he headed toward the couch to grab his phone.

Chris halted him in his tracks. "Don't, Nick."

"Why not? This is ridiculous. She needs to know what's happening to Matt, you know?"

While Nick loved her just as much and empathized with her feelings for her brother, witnessing her heart break over the same guy repeatedly over the past few years, he also loved Matt and understood his reasons and he would go to great lengths to ensure he never saw his brother like this again.

"Don't do it, Nick," Chris warned again.

"Why not?" Nick persisted, challenging Chris, his frustration mounting.

"Because what are you going to tell her? That Matt's been depressed as shit because she went on multiple dates with this guy, and it all went well?"

Matt, listening from the other side of the door, emerged and interceded between them. "No one's going to tell anyone anything, okay? I'll be fine. I just want to be left alone."

"You have to tell her, Matt," Nick said, speaking more softly this time.

Chris gazed at the side of Matt's face, his heart aching at the sight of his brother in such despair. "Before it's too late," Chris added.

It pained Chris to see his brother like this, but he couldn't help but consider that maybe Matt had missed his chance with her months ago when he failed to understand why she was so upset about him having a girlfriend. Chris also couldn't deny that she had pined for Matt for years, and it had taken a long time for his brother to realize his true feelings and he also knew that even time would not wait for Matt.

In the weeks that followed, their household was like wrapped in an atmosphere of melancholy. Matt's isolation continued, and it seemed like there was a cloud of sadness hanging over them, especially when she announced that she plans to make it official with Luke.

Each day that passed without Matt addressing his feelings felt like a missed opportunity, and Nick couldn't help but wonder how much time they had left before those feelings became irrevocably entangled with regret.

He knew Matt's heartache was genuine and real. It wasn't just about a date gone well; it was about missed chances, miscommunication, and the unraveling of a connection that had been there all along. Nick also couldn't shake the nagging feeling that time was slipping through their fingers like grains of sand. It was an unspoken truth, a silent echo in the house, that they were running out of chances to mend the rift between Matt and her.

Meanwhile, Chris wrestled with his own conflicted emotions. He remembered that moment when Matt had failed to understand the depths of her pain when he had kissed her and pretended it didn't happen, his brother's lack of action when she needed him the most. It had been a missed opportunity, an oversight.

March 29, 2023

Dear Matt,

Spring’s break over. Been over for a few days. Everything is back to normal, and the air is getting warmer, which makes me a little happy. Mac Demarco’s song came on shuffle earlier on my way to class and it reminded me of when we were listening to it during the car ride back home. Remember the mint ice cream I let you try, and you hated it? Yep, that was the day.

I’ve already told you about Luke. He’s okay. He’s nice. I think I like him. I mean, what’s not to like? He flew back to San Diego, but we've been talking non-stop through FaceTime and texts. I think he might like me too, though I don't want to assume anything. You did say to get to know him better before rushing into anything.

I feel like things are changing, Matt. I don’t know if it’s a good thing or a bad thing. I miss you so much. I wish you weren’t so far away.

April 7, 2023

Hi Matthew,

I’m just struggling with my feelings right now. Luke admitted last night after nonstop calls and texts, that he likes me more than a friend and he wants to take things further but slow.

I was frozen for a few seconds. I like him but I don’t know. I guess I’ll see where it goes.

I texted you about it, but you didn’t reply, Chris said you were out with Nick and Madi. I’ll tell you all about it later. I wish you knew, Matt. I wish you knew.  That it has always been you.

It was the second week of June of 2023 when Matt Sturniolo landed in Boston, Massachusetts. After being gone for months, he was immensely grateful he was back home. The weather was warm which made everything feel just right. Things had improved significantly with him compared to the previous month, following a heartfelt conversation with Nick and Chris. They all agreed that confessing his feelings while she was entering a promising relationship wouldn't be fair, and his brothers supported this decision.

The way she would light up when talking about Luke during their video calls was enough for Matt to accept the situation as it was. He also realized that the opportunity had already passed him. She had already met someone else, and he believed, or at least liked to believe, that this person makes her happy and that was more than enough for him.

This newfound understanding brought a sense of peace to his heart, but he couldn't deny, not even to himself, that he was truly heartbroken. Despite the acceptance, there were moments when the weight of the unspoken emotions, the timing, and the distance bore down on him.

Remembering their intimate moments together leave him with a lingering ache in his heart. Matt had been in love with her long before he could put a name to his emotions, but by the time he understood his own feelings, it was already too late.

"Yo, Nate just texted me," Chris said while munching on chips and leaning against the kitchen counter. "He said shit’s ready."

"Wait, I need to take a shower first, and then we can head out," Nick shouted from the other room.

Matt appeared from the laundry area, a sock on one hand, and asked Chris about his outfit, "Do you think this looks good?"

"Yeah, that's alright. I really like that shirt," Chris replied.

Matt smiled and said, "Me too."

Impatient, Chris sighed and yelled, "Can you hurry up, Nick? Alahna just texted me, she said they already pulled up to Nate’s house."

Nick shouted back, his words somewhat unclear, "Yeah, I'll be quick."

Silence enveloped them again. After a moment, Chris whispered, "Are you sure you'll be okay there, Matt?"

"I'll be fine, Chris. It's Nate's birthday," Matt responded, still engrossed in his phone.

Chris sent him a half smile. “You know she’s never going to replace you right? Your friendship with her is already special in its own right.”

Matt looked up, his expression softening but still uncertain. He nodded, agreeing with his brother's words, though not entirely convinced.

"Alright, I'm ready to roll," Nick announced after 20 minutes, already heading for the door.

Chris could sense Matt's tension and placed a reassuring hand on his brother's shoulder. "Hey, Matt," he began, his tone gentle. "It's gonna be okay."

Matt leaned on him, nodding. "Thanks, Chris."

With a nod, Chris turned to Nick who's already impatiently waiting by the car. "Let's get going then. Nathan's waiting."

Hands on the wheel, Matt did his best to focus on the familiar road ahead of them. Nick sang along to the radio in the backseat, while Chris stared out of the window. Deep down, Matt wanted to turn around and retreat to the safety of his bedroom, but he hid his anxieties by remaining silent.

As Matt parked the car and they approached Nate's house, he couldn't shake the nervousness that had been building inside him. Chris and Nick walked ahead towards the sliding door in the backyard, where they greeted Nate's family.

For Matt, however, it was as if time had slowed down. As he scanned the gathering, he saw familiar faces - people he had known since middle school, some high school, and some he forgot the names of. Life appeared to have moved on for them, unaware of the feelings he was facing with.

With his hands in his pockets, he looked timid and shy. But then, as if the universe conspired to grant him a moment of relief, he saw her. It had been seven months. Seven long months since he had seen and kissed her, and it felt like finally witnessing the sun after a cold winter night.

Nick was approaching her first, and she welcomed his brother with a big smile on her face. Matt couldn't help but notice the subtle changes in her appearance - her hair now cascaded just below her collarbone, framing her face beautifully. Her smile, however, remained as radiant as ever, perhaps even more so. The way she held onto Nick, the carefree way her hair danced in the breeze, the sunlight gently touching her face made her seem almost unreal. The summer air had given her a healthy flush on her cheeks, making them pinker than he remembered. Her laughter like music to his ears.

After what felt like an eternity of hugging and catching up with his brothers, she began searching for him in the crowd. Her eyes eventually found him, standing there in all his handsome glory. With knowing smiles exchanged between Chris and Nick, his brothers left them alone. Matt approached her slowly, his hands still tucked in his pockets. "Hi," he greeted her with a shy smile.

She looked up at him, biting her lip, her voice now softer compared to when she had greeted his brothers. "Hi."

Subtly and unwittingly, her body leaned towards his, just like old times, and reached out to embrace him. Matt couldn't help but notice the familiar scent of her hair, the same fragrance that used to linger on his pillow for days after she had slept over.

As always, good things must come to an end, and she reluctantly pulled away, her eyes sparkling with happiness as she looked up at him. They were so close that they could feel each other's breath.

"Missed you," Matt blurted out, unable to contain his feelings. He had truly missed her more than she'll ever know.

"I missed you too, Matthew. How are things?" Her affection for him was evident in her words. Matt, who had been the love of her life for years, was now back home.

"Things are good," he replied, his voice carrying a mixture of emotions. "I'm so glad to be back home."

"Finally," she murmured softly, the word laden with longing and spoken with an intimacy meant only for his ears. Her gaze remained locked onto his, they were so absorbed into each other that they didn't notice that their friends were watching them, both oblivious to the hushed whispers in the background.

"Yeah, finally," Matt whispered, eyes steady with hers.

Observing this interaction, Nate nudged Chris gently, nodding towards them. His eyes wide.

"Oh no, Matt," Chris whispered, seeing Luke, who stood a few feet away and had seen everything. Her and Matt are standing really close, almost as if they were about to kiss. "Don't do it, Matt." Fearing his brother would do something stupid, again.

A faint clearing of the throat from behind them interrupted their moment.

"Luke," she whispered, surprised and wide-eyed. Luke responded with a polite smile, concealing his uneasiness.

Watching from a distance, Chris's heart continued to race.

Feeling embarrassed, Matt wished he could disappear. He had let his emotions get the best of him and now found himself in an awkward situation. Sensing her pull away, Matt watched as she moved closer to Luke's side, putting some distance between them.

"Luke, this is Matt," she introduced them, her voice slightly small. She gestured towards both of them. "Matt, meet Luke, my boyfriend." Matt hid his true feelings behind a polite greeting and shook Luke's extended hand but from a distance, Chris and Nate could see the sadness in his eyes as he glanced back and forth between the new couple.

"Nice to meet you, Matt. I've heard a lot about you and your brothers." Matt couldn't help but find irony in the situation, as he remembered the night in Los Angeles when he had introduced his ex to her, and his ex had offered similar words of welcome.

Matt smiled and nodded, his gaze lingering on the way Luke held her waist.

Luke started a friendly conversation, trying to ease the obvious tension in the air. "So, when did you guys get back from L.A.?"

"We got back just two days ago," Matt replied casually, shifting his gaze to Chris and Nate a few feet away from them, who was now stopped dead in their tracks, watching their interaction unfold. "What about you? I heard you're from California, right?"

Luke, keeping things relaxed, replied, "Yes, San Diego. I've been here for a week. Planning to stay for the rest of the summer."

"Oh," Matt struggled to find the right words. Spending a whole summer, indicating a serious step into their relationship.

"That's cool. Boston has nice beaches, although they might not compare to the ones on the West Coast." 

Her gaze remained locked on his, searching for a reaction. Nathan, Matt's best friend since they were 13 has always known the right words to say. He swooped in just in time to save Matt from a potentially explosive situation. 

"Hey, you guys, do you mind if I borrow Matt here for sec?” Nate asked casually, offering them his playful smile. "We need help with the ice and stuff." He said cooly, earning a knowing glance from Matt.

This was Luke's first time meeting Matt, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was more to the history between her and her best friend. After witnessing their intense interaction moments ago, he wondered if it has always been like this.  As Nate led Matt away, a moment of silence settled between Luke and her. She could sense the curiosity in Luke's eyes. Finally, he broke the silence with a gentle tone, "You guys seem very close. Is there more than what I know?"

She took a deep breath, her fingers fidgeting with the fabric of her skirt. "We've been friends for a long time, you know that." she replied, her voice a mixture of apprehension and vulnerability.

"I just never expected you two were that close," Luke chuckled lightly, making an effort to lighten the mood.

When she didn't reply, Luke gently continued, "Hey," speaking in a softer tone this time, he turned his entire body to face her, ensuring she could look into his eyes. "I'm not worried about anything. If you say you guys have been nothing more than friends all this time, then I believe you."

She smiled, feeling grateful that Luke had gracefully dropped the topic. But there was no lie in that statement; they were just friends. Matt had never reciprocated her feelings, and it had always been that way. She should be happy that she has a love like Luke's. A love unwavering, ever-present affection that wraps her in a sense of security and even though this love was just starting, it's here. It wants to spend the whole summer with her. It kisses and hugs her at night. A love that loves her back.

Chris followed Nate and Matt into the house and found them already engaged in a conversation. "Dude," he began. With Nate, deeply looking into Matt's eyes Chris knew he was helping calm his brother down. “What was that?”

Matt snapped, growing irritated with Chris, feeling the situation become more increasingly awkward and cringeworthy. "Just be quiet for a second, Chris."

“You need to keep your feelings in check before it gets complicated,” Chris informed, arms up in defense.

Matt sighed, realizing the truth in his brother's words. "Was it really that bad?"

"Bro," Nate gave him a sideways glance.

"Matt, with how close you two are, you might as well just kiss her," Chris whispered loudly, scanning the room for any guests who might have overheard them.

"It was like you guys were the only ones in the room," Nate chimed in, to which Chris nodded in agreement.

Matt hung his head in shame, anxiously sighing once more and burying his face in his hands. "I can't handle this."

"Yes, you can," Nate reassured him, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "You're here for my birthday, nothing else and you're gonna go out there and we're gonna have fun. Look, look, Karl's already setting up the barbeque."

Matt can only nod. Tonight was all about Nathan, and no boyfriend was going to ruin it for them.

Truth was, Nate was hesitant when she asked the question of whether she could invite Luke as her plus one. Deep down, he understood that she was slowly unveiling to the world the fact that this charming, curly-haired brunette with captivating brown eyes is going to be in their lives whether they like it or not. Nate was also aware of the feelings Matt is dealing with, feelings he suspected had been simmering beneath the surface ever since he witnessed them sharing a slice of pizza in his very own backyard three years ago. He feared that Matt wouldn't take this well, and the feelings of regret over missed opportunities might shadow him as he watched her with Luke. Yet, despite these, Nate couldn't bring himself to say no. He firmly believed that she deserved to show her love, just like anyone else and to Nate, this love was something his best friend would ultimately need to come to terms with.

The night proved to be a blur for her, with Matt's presence lingering nearby like a shadow. Just the knowledge that he was only a few feet away made her stomach churn. It hadn't always been like this; typically, she had a firm grip on her emotions and could maintain her composure, but the situation earlier, with the three of them – herself, Matt, and Luke – had left her wanting to go home and avoid talking to anyone ever again.

It had been a slip, a slip that should never have happened. The way she had clung to him, waiting for any sign, anything that might reveal his disapproval of her relationship with Luke. But when he walked through the door with Chris and Nate trailing behind him, she realized she had been fooling herself once again.

Matt had calmed himself down, thanks to Nate and Chris. With Nick giving him raised eyebrows as if to say, 'What the hell just happened? We'll talk about this later.' he shifted his focus to the food that was being handed around, attempting to divert his thoughts.

The night progressed smoothly, and the final blow came when Matt sat across from her in the group circle. Chloe, who had joined them, shot knowing looks her way as she sat beside Matt. "So, what are your plans for the summer?" their friend asked.

Various answers were heard from the group. "What about you and Luke?"

"We're going on Europe with Luke's friends from New York," she blurted out, her eyes finding their way back to her hands, avoiding Matt's piercing eyes.

She could hear the excitement and wows reverberated around the circle.

Luke chimed in, adding, "Yeah, it's going to be fun. I’m excited."

The conversation continued, with the group asking about when they will leave, and some were sharing recommendations for must-visit spots in Greece. She tuned them out, feeling smaller with each passing moment.

A European adventure was Matt and Her’s secret dream, a dream they had shared only in the quiet of the night, under the covers, with Nick sleeping on the couch nearby. It symbolized another significant step in their relationship, something that Matt couldn't help but notice.

Matt felt his heart break a little more with each passing moment, like a series of painful stabs. Of course, he didn’t forget the plans to elope in Europe and here she was fulfilling those dreams with another man.

When their eyes met, he masked his pain with a faint, forced smile.

Finally, the night ended with Chris giving her and Luke a friendly hug. With Matt already in the car avoiding the couple and Nick in the back saying his own goodbyes to Alahna and Nate.

Matt went straight to his room, shutting the door firmly behind him. Chris stopped Nick in pestering Matt and asking him about what happened at the party, he insisted that they give their brother space to work on his feelings.

~

"You're awfully quiet," Luke nudged her gently. They sat in the living room, surrounded by her sister and cousins, watching cartoons as the warm Boston summer air flowed in through the open windows of the house.

"Just lost in thought," she sighed.

"What's on your mind?" Luke asked, rubbing her hand while his gaze remained fixed on her face.

"Nothing much, just a bit nervous about meeting your New York friends," she chuckled, trying to keep her tone casual.

"They're not that bad," he reassured her, his fingers now absentmindedly playing with hers. "They'll love you. Who wouldn't love you?"

One person, she thought, but she managed to smile at Luke, appreciating his warmth. It had been a week since Nate's birthday, and Matt hadn't reached out. Part of her was secretly relieved; she wouldn't know what to say to him anyway. She knew Matt tended to withdraw when things got awkward.

This had been her problem since they were young. Matt always looks at her like he could love her, and she fell for it every time, only to have her heart broken again.

She knew she was lying to Luke about her old feelings for Matt, but she was determined to bury those emotions and start fresh with Luke.

"What if they don't like me?"

"They have no choice but to like you; they're going to spend two months with you in Europe," Luke chuckled before giving her a sweet kiss.

"I guess," she replied.

Silence settled between them once more. "Is everything ready for you? We leave really early tomorrow," Luke asked, mentally checking if he had brought everything he needed in his head.

"Yup, all packed and ready. Actually, I think I'm going to visit Nick and the boys later, you know to say my goodbyes," she shrugged.

She could feel the mood had shifted between her and Luke.

Luke straightened up, letting go of her hand. "Oh. Do you want me to come with you?"

"No, that's fine. Nick has been bugging me to hang out since they got back. He wanted to catch up and stuff."

"Alright," Luke nodded, smiling at her, not pushing further.

Setting foot in her lifelong friends' house brought a wave of nostalgia; it felt like an eternity since she had last visited. Nick welcomed her at the front door with a cheerful smile, the sounds of a heated argument between Chris and Matt can be heard from the kitchen.

"You just don't get it. I didn't know it was yours," Chris defended himself, dressed casually in shorts and a white shirt.

"Well, you should've asked me! Can't you leave a soda in the fridge for 24 hours max?" Matt shouted, clearly agitated. "Geez, you're so fucking grumpy today, is this because-" Chris replied, and Nick cleared his throat, worried that Chris might say something she should not hear. Chris noticed her presence first and practically lunged at her, almost knocking the air out of her. "Oh my god, I missed you so much."

She smiled and patted his back, returning the hug warmly. When he released her, he continued with a mischievous glint in his eyes and a playful tone, "I'm so sorry we couldn't talk much at Nate's party. You were so busy."

"Chris," Nick warned with a pointed look. Chris shrugged, still grinning.

"I missed you too and no, I wasn’t," she chuckled, glancing between Nick and Chris, offering a reassuring smile.

"Yes, you were. You were busy with your new boyfriend," Matt snapped, his tone cutting and bitter, causing her smile to slowly vanish. He wasn't looking at her, not acknowledging her presence and not even trying to hide that he doesn’t want her there.

The room fell silent, Chris and Nick exchanging shocked and speechless glances in response to Matt's outburst, making the atmosphere tense.

"In fact," Matt added, his voice sharp as knives, "you were so busy with your new boyfriend that you forgot we had plans to go to the beach with Chloe yesterday."

His words were meant to hurt, like venom injected into her heart. "Matt, please." Chris intercedes, but the tears and the lump in her throat were already starting.

"Shut up, Chris. It's true! She's Miss College-this and Miss College-that. Why are you even here? Aren't you supposed to be in Europe with your boyfriend?" Matt sneered, his blue eyes piercing through her soul, oblivious to how much his words were hurting her.

"What the hell, Matt?" Nick glowered at Matt; his eyes wide, unable to believe that his brother was speaking to her like this.

"No, it's okay Nick, leave us," she whispered, stopping him. She swallowed hard, attempting to hold back the tears and keep her composure.

Chris, sensing that this was a necessary conversation between her and Matt, guided Nick out of the kitchen. He believed in her; if anyone could handle this, it was her.

"What's your problem?" She approached Matt slowly, keeping a comfortable distance, with the kitchen counter acting as a physical barrier between them.

"You! You're my problem," Matt mumbled, avoiding eye contact, turning his head, and looking towards the window.

In the years of friendship with Matt, they never once had an argument like this. Matt had never been this upset with her, especially over missed plans. She had missed one or two in previous years, but he had never been this furious.

Her heart ached trying to understand Matt’s current level of distress. She was not understanding why the boy in front of her was seething with frustration, his cheeks flushed, hair disheveled, and his eyes usually so warm and inviting now looks exhausted and empty.

This was not the Matt she had grown so close to.

"How am I your problem? Are you seriously this fucking upset because I forgot about our plans to go to the beach yesterday?" She was getting angrier, and her voice was rising.

Matt finally looked at her again. "Just forget it."

He tried to walk away, but she blocked his path. "No. Tell me. What's wrong?"

She peered into his bloodshot eyes; he looked so done. But before she could speak again, Matt beat her to it. "Nothing's wrong. Everything's just great. Go back to your perfect boyfriend; he must be worried about you."

"He's not worried about me, Matt. Are you kidding me? What did I do to make you this upset? Look, I’m sorry, okay? We had to pack-"

Matt didn't answer and brushed past her, bumping her shoulder in the process, his back turned to her.

"Seriously, you're just going to leave? So this is about Luke? Are you jealous? Do you think I'm too busy for you guys now that I have a boyfriend?"

"I'm in love with you, okay!" Matt turned around, facing her. His blue eyes now on the verge of tears.

She stood there in stunned silence, her feet rooted to the spot. She couldn't believe it — Matthew Sturniolo, her best friend, and the boy she had secretly pined for over the years, was in love with her.

Meanwhile, in the other room, Chris and Nick listened in wide-eyed shock, their brother’s confession echoing through the house. Chris exchanged a surprised glance with Nick, who couldn’t help but roll his eyes, muttering, “Finally,” under his breath.

Matt continued, his voice frustrated, "I cannot, for the life of me, forget the day I kissed you and how much I still wanted to. How much I wanted to chase after you that night, to kiss you again, I cannot stop thinking about it."