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e-pluribus-unum-e · 5 months ago

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Haunted (1/?)

A/N#1: This is a Mattheo Riddle x OC fanfic, I did this just because I struggle with writing "Y/N" over and over again. I feel like an actual name for the reader helps you connect better, and I already struggle with being a personable writer. Please forgive me. The OC is named Veralynn Post, she goes by Vera. Idk her middle name yet so don't ask. She has long curly blonde hair, it reaches to her mid to lower back, it's also very poofy (think Hermione Granger). She has amber eyes, almost like whiskey and honey. She's 5'2 and a Hufflepuff. And she's from the US of A 🗽. It probably doesn't make sense why she's in a wizarding school in England but bare with me. Also I'll probably have smut in this at some point but that won't be until they're well into their 7th year.

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Mattheo 🥵, my terrible writing, eventual smut but not until much later in the series

Pairing: Mattheo Riddle x Fem!OC

Summary: Vera's best friend finds herself in a whirlwind romance with none other than Theodore Nott. Vera reflects on her own love, how ever unrequited it is, and wonders when she'll finally confess to the man that holds her heart in his hands. 6.0k+ words

A/N#2: Dear Reader, Hello! This is the start of my very first attempt at a series LOL. I've written for my own enjoyment for years, but never on a blog or anything even similar to Tumblr. Last night at 2 AM I was hit with inspiration after hearing a series of songs play one after the other that reminded me so much of our baby boy Matty <3. So I have a timeline worked out and a list of songs I want to incorporate, one song per chapter, but that list is constantly changing because I'm trying to find the best ones possible to make this work. Also I'm starting them off in 6th year because yes, while they are minors, I need the time afforded to me by starting them off that young. No smut, NO SMUT, will happen before they're both well established 18 year olds in year 7. Please let me know how I can improve with my writing, it means a lot. It is my absolute pleasure to present you with the very first chapter in my Haunted series, When Emma Falls in Love. ---Sincerely, Me

When Emma Falls in Love

When Emma falls in love, she paces the floor Closes the blinds and locks the door When Emma falls in love, she calls up her mom Jokes about the ways that this one could go wrong She waits and takes her time 'Cause Little Miss Sunshine always thinks it's gonna rain When Emma falls in love, I know That boy will never be the same

Emma Hemlock is my best friend. I met her at Platform 9¾ on our first day at Hogwarts, and ever since then, we've been joined at the hip. With her dazzling blue eyes and her straight brown hair, her tan complexion, and her warm smile, she drew the boys' attention immediately. They would scramble to write her love letters, asking her on dates and whether or not she'd give them a chance. And she never said yes. Until, now.

Theodore Nott had been asking her out since 3rd year, always being met with a resounding "NO." He even asked me for advice!-- "C'mon Veralynn! What's her favorite flowers? Does she like butter beer? When does she-" "PISS OFF THEO"-- (spoiler alert: we didn't get along). But it seems he finally 'wore her down.'

That's such a terrible expression. At least, that's what Emma says. She explained that 'no, he didn't wear me down, I just finally had the courage to say yes.' Or something like that. In all honesty, her hesitation to say yes in the first place made sense. Theo had gained the reputation of a ladies' man, him and the rest of his crew. Draco Malfoy, Lorenzo Montague, Blaise Zabini, Pansy Parkinson, and Mattheo Riddle.

Mattheo.

A man who could simultaneously get my heart racing out of fear and attraction. Fear of him, fear of the attraction, attraction because of the fear, however, you want to put it I don't care. But we'll get back to him later. Right now, it's all about Emma and her love life.

Emma finally said yes to Theo's persistent nagging, making him quite literally the happiest man in all of Hogwarts. No seriously, he ran into the Great Hall shouting "SHE SAID YES! WE'RE GETTING MARRI- OW, DAMN IT VERA!" (I may have thrown a dinner plate at his head).

So here I am. Waiting, sitting on the couch in our dorm, my arms wrapped around a pillow as I sat on my legs, watching the door in anticipation. They started dating in the summer. Emma's family had decided to spend their two months break on vacation in Italy. They ran into the Nott's while they were there. I have a theory that Theo caught wind of where the Hemlock family would be that June, and he begged his parents to let him go spend the summer in their family villa.

All that being said, they had had a whirlwind romance that didn't end when the warmer months came to a close. It's only the second week of our 6th year and they've gone on a total of four dates. It's almost hilarious how utterly whipped Theo is for her. That boy will never be the same.

Creeeeak. The door was pushed open—interrupting my thoughts—and Emma slipped into the room. She locked the door behind herself, her face looking... oh that's weird. She paced across the floor, closing the blinds, effectively putting an end to the bright sun I was basking in. I had expected her to come in, huffing and annoyed with the latest story on Theo's escapades. But this time, no, this time was different. Her eyes held a different story. "Vera..." Her grip on the window loosened as she turned towards me. Her lip trembling, and her eyes squinting. Suddenly her face split into the widest grin she's ever given me. "Vera-" "I know." We smiled at each other, one sincere and one feigned.

"I need- I need to send an owl to my parents. I need to ask my mom- oh shit this has never happened to me before. Vera, what do I do? What is this?" She started rambling, all the while her smile remained and she ran over to her desk. She pulled out her stationary and began her letter to her mother. "Ughhh I shouldn't even be writing to her about this, it's going to end in disaster anyway!"

What made me chuckle was the way she said it. The words were foreboding, but her smile never slipped. She didn't really expect this to end in a 'disaster.' "Write your letter, Em. Tell your Momma you're falling in love." I encourage softly from where I remain seated, nuzzling my face further into the pillow between my arms. Emma nods at me, eyes crinkling yet again as she leans back over her letter.

Okay, sure, maybe I don't sound as excited as I should for my closest friend. That's not the case, I am excited for her! But now's the time when we finally get to talk about Mattheo.

Chocolate eyes, curls the color of rich dark dirt, dimples when he smiles, and the scent of cigarettes and rain that clings to him no matter where he's been. To be frank, the man is liquid fire. And everyone else in Hogwarts noticed that too. And he took advantage of that fact. He had a new girl on his arm almost every day, never coming up empty in the 'love department.' But it was never love. Everyone understood he was never and would never be interested in anything serious. The problem with this?

Well that requires a bit of explanation.

I met him the same day I met Emma. Before her, even. I had gotten lost in the muggle train station trying to find the right platform, getting bumped into by grown strangers who didn't seem to notice the lost little girl tripping under their feet. I was born and raised in America until being invited to Hogwarts, and unfortunately, my parents couldn't afford to come with me to this wild train station. So I was all alone, trying desperately to find my way to Platform 9¾.

~flashback to that day~

I huff, dragging my luggage behind me as I try my best to push through the crowd. I couldn't see many children, which gave me my first clue that I wasn't in the right place. It was mostly muggle adults going to and fro, not glancing down to notice the small poofy-haired kid all alone. My thoughts were interrupted as someone slammed into me, "OW" I cried as the luggage slipped from my fingers. It hit the pavement floor below my feet, buckles popping open as the contents spill out. I shake my head in disbelief, looking up to see who knocked into me. All I saw was the back of a grown man walking away from me, seemingly the culprit, and also seemingly ignoring the fact that he just ruined an 11-year-old's day. "Hey wanker, watch where you're going!" I jump, startled at the grumbling voice ringing in my ear.

That wasn't my voice. No, that was behind me. Turning around, I gaze upon—for the very first time—the boy who would turn my whole world upside down. He was wearing jeans, and an almost too-big-for-him flannel, his curls falling effortlessly over his forehead as he glared past me at the man who just Kool-Aided into my back.

His eyes flickered from over my shoulder to my belongings on the ground. Wordlessly, he crouched down and started folding up the clothes and slipping them back into my suitcase. "Oh- no no that's okay you don't have to- I mean- agh this is such a mess." I scramble, trying to stop him from helping any further. 'This is so embarrassing.'

I squat down next to him, working side by side to get everything packed away. His hands stopped moving at the sound of my own voice, his head turning toward me as he took in my appearance for the first time. "You're American?" "Uh-" I blush, distracted by his pretty frown. "-yeah." I finally answer, a bit dazedly. "Cool." He responded. We just sat there, chocolate eyes looking into amber, until the distant sound of a train's horn broke us out of our trance. "Riddle. Mattheo Riddle. Where are you headed?" The boy asked, sticking his hand out for me to shake.

"Oh! I'm Veralynn Post, um, you can call me Vera. Everyone does." His eyebrow raised at that. "E-Everyone back in my- HEY!" I gasp as he starts laughing. "I was just teasing you Anna, no need to fret. But seriously where are you headed?" He tried to quiet his chuckling as he lifts my bag from the ground, carrying it along with his (and refusing to let me take it off his hands).

I took out the letter in my pocket, looking at the information it contained. "Platform 9¾." He seemed to ponder that for a minute. "I don't think that exists..." My eyes widen. How could I be so stupid? He's a normal not-wizardy-boy and here I am, spilling all of Hogwarts beans to the first person who would listen. Maybe if I play it off like I'm a dumb tourist he'll just forget all about it. Wait- is he laughing? OH THIS BOY- "Man it's easy to trick you. Lighten up, Vera."

My blush deepens, but not out of embarrassment. No, I was mad. "That's not funny Mattheo, I'm genuinely lost and alone and you're laughing at me." He seemed to soften at that, his laughter quieting down. "I'm not laughing at you, I'm laughing with you." "I'm not laughing." "Hmm... touché." The way he said it made me want to punch him in the face.

Mattheo seemed to notice the anger in my eyes as he straightened up. "All jokes aside, I'm headed there too. We can walk together?" He offered, looking at me apologetically. "...fine, but no more teasing." "That's too high a price." "Fine," another huff from me, "you can tease if you want to but at least make it obvious you're not being serious."

His grin grew. "You're funny, Vera."

~end of flashback~

I met Emma when we got onto the train, and ever since then, I've had an unrequited crush and a best friend. Emma was everything I could have asked for; a dear friend, a confidant, and a sister. And I will always remember that day in fondness for when I met her, but alongside the sweet memories of a friendship comes the tainted recollection of a lost love.

Mattheo and I have remained friendly up to this very moment, as I watch Emma fall in love with his best friend, Theodore. But after I was sorted into Hufflepuff and he into Slytherin, we went our separate ways. Never being close but always painfully aware whenever he walked into the room. In his defense, it's not like he ignored me or anything. We were amicable with one another, just not in each other's core friend group.

The sad truth is, is that girls tripped over themselves because the kind boy I met seven years ago grew into Adonis reincarnate. They notice him because he's effortlessly good-looking and always seems to get great grades, even when he's constantly skipping class to smoke or make out with some girl in the broom closet.

His chiseled abs, strong jawline, and generally Greek-god-like physique (thank you Quidditch) made him a heart throb.

However, the female population of Hogwarts treat him like a piece of meat. Even though they're aware that he’ll cast them aside after just one night of being in his embrace, not only being aware but wanting it because no one really wanted to love him. Him. I've had to watch as everyone acted as if he really was just a carnal beautiful body and not a soul.

Sure, his core friend group (Pansy, Theodore, Blaise, Enzo, and Draco) didn't care about his looks. From what I've observed, they genuinely care about him. But after years of almost the entirety of Hogwarts not caring, I've noticed how it's worn on him.

And it's not just Hogwarts and their obsessive drooling over him, it's his home life. His father in Azkaban, his mother dead, his brother ignoring his existence. He had an abusive childhood and the roughest of up bringings. The very same women who will beg him for one night in his bed, turn around to gossip about how he's the next Voldemort.

So very few people cared about him.

And I've noticed how it's worn on him.

I've noticed lots of things.

I've noticed how when he walks through the food line, he never takes the last of anything, always leaving it for the person behind him. How he hangs behind after dinner to pick up the plates and trays our fellow students were too lazy to clean up themselves. I've noticed that whenever a girl in our year comes into class with bruises on her body, her boyfriend is in the infirmary the next day and there are cuts on Mattheo's knuckles. How he slips treats to the magical creatures when everyone's too busy listening to Hagrid's lecture to even notice the exchange. Everyone is too busy to notice, except for me.

I've spent my entire Hogwarts career falling in love with a boy, who grew into a man, all while I remained unnoticed.

I hang on to every word I hear him mutter to Theo, to every nod he sends my way as he walks past, and the rare time he asks me for my notes after he misses class.

So here we are, back in my dorm, watching my best friend's love life blossom before my eyes. Yes, I'm happy for her. But yes, I'm also, admittedly and ashamedly, jealous.

'Cause she's the kind of book that you can't put down Like if Cleopatra grew up in a small town And all the bad boys would be good boys If they only had a chance to love her And to tell you the truth, sometimes I wish I was her

I tried to listen as Cedric droned on, talking excitedly about this new book or muggle movie or something. To be honest, I've missed about 90% of what he's said. I slept roughly two hours last night, staying up to be Emma's sounding board. 'She really has fallen hard for this guy.' I think to myself as I glance across the Great Hall. Theo was sitting at his usual table, with the usual people. One of those people is Mattheo...

Mattheo laughed at something Enzo said, leaning across the table to grab food off of Pansy's plate (much to Pansy's protest). 'I hope he has a good day.' I sigh, looking back down into my cup. I had my hands wrapped firmly around the mug, sipping the warm black nectar. Emma still teased me after all these years, calling me a "Yank" for preferring just plain old coffee over tea.

A masculine rumble broke me out of my thoughts as my eyes flickered up again to see what was happening. Oh. Theo was here. And he was yapping, per usual. What, when did he get here?

The man in question was leaning his hand onto the table to my right, looking down at Emma who was in between us. "Hey, honey..." He muttered, their voices getting collectively quieter as they got wrapped up in each other's presence.

I rolled my eyes, sitting up slightly to grab Cedric. He leaned forward, but not willingly. My hands firmly grasped his collar to pull him halfway across the table. "AH- Vera let go-" "Not until you get me a new dorm and a new table. I can't handle it anymore, DO YOU HEAR ME? TOO MUCH THEO! TOO MUCH!" I shouted, sleep deprivation getting to me.

Theo stopped whatever poem or other crap he was reciting for my friend, looking up just to glare at me. "Oh stop being the anti-Cupid just because you're jealous." I turn my head, poor Cedric still being subject to my grasp, just to glare right back at Theo.

"Jealous? What the hell would I be jealous of? The fact that y'all effortlessly behave as if you got SLEEP LAST NIGHT?" "No, jealous that no one got you flowers." "Flowers? What flow- awwww Emma those are so pretty!" I push Cedric back down, turning fully in my seat to see the pretty roses in her hands.

She smiled up at me, nodding. "Someone told him they were my favorite." Her lovesick grin made me crack a genuine smirk. I sigh, feigning disappointment as I respond, "Too bad they lied."

"WHAT?" Theo exclaimed, eyes widening in horror. "Veralynn Post quit lying to my boyfriend!" Emma cried out as I just laughed harder. "Sorry, sorry, I had to."

I straightened up my posture, leaning back over my food, finishing the rest of my coffee as the lovebirds said their goodbyes. We both watched as Theo made his way back to his side of the Hall, sliding in to sit next to Mattheo.

Mattheo.

He was looking right at me. I smiled hesitantly at him, but he just looked back at his own friends, conversation continuing like it never stopped.

Oh.

My heart skipped a beat and not in a good way. This happened sometimes. I'd think he was encouraging me, I'd make an attempt to reach out, he'd go back to acting like I barely existed. My thoughts wandered to Emma. Emma. She seemed to be a natural at taming the 'bad boys.'

She had broken down the walls of her man, her man who was so misunderstood and underappreciated. Theo wanted to be good for her. It was like she was a drug he couldn't walk away from, a book he just couldn't put down.

My final thought echoed in my head like a constant ringing in between my ears as my eyes felt glued to the man who held my heart. And I knew—I knew that while I was happy to be myself—that sometimes on the coldest of nights and loneliest of days, when the absence of his love and affection rang the loudest... sometimes I wish I was her.

Well, she's so New York when she's in L.A. She won't lose herself in love the way that I did 'Cause she'll call you out, she'll put you in your place When Emma falls in love, I'm learning

It was only the start of our 6th year, but every morning felt as if I was waking up on death row. Like my days were numbered, and with each passing minute, the executioner took another step closer. I've always been able to comfort myself by saying, 'It's okay that I can't hold him in my arms. At least I can be near him.'

Being in his presence alone has always been enough for me. His aura, his being, his soul being in the same room as mine has been enough for me to be content. But with graduation comes the end of it all. The end of us. The end of him. You might be going, 'Ah but graduation is just next year! You have time!'

Time? Time? It's taken me six years to get to this point and you think one more will be the difference between my anguish and my happiness? The time needed to cause a change? When him and I, two separate souls, intwine to become just us? No. There's never enough time and I'm too much of a coward to try it now, with another year in Hogwarts, where I would have to suffer not only 6th but 7th year in embarrassment and rejection. Because Mattheo Riddle doesn't want an us.

'Who am I even kidding? There is no us, there never will be. I sound like a fucking stalker.' I scoff, aggressively zipping up my bag. Potions had ended a while ago but apparently, I spaced out, only coming to when Professor Snape closed a desk draw rather loudly. It was only me and three other students in the room with him, taking our time to pack up and clean our workstations.

"-Vera. VERA." My eyes snapped up, noticing Emma waving her hand in my face. I grimaced, pushing her hand away. "How long...?" "A few seconds." She answered, frowning. I squirmed under her scrutinizing overlook. Her eyes swirled with a flurry of emotions; confusion, doubt, concern, etc. "What? Do I have something on my face?" She frowned deeper at that.

Chuckling nervously I hiked my bag over my shoulder, leading us into the hallway as we began our trek to the courtyard. Once a week we always pack lunch ahead of time, and then walk down to the Black Lake to have a picnic together. It was the highlight of my day and the pick-me-up I've really needed this past week. 'I just hope we can get there before we run into Theo.'

Theo's been really good for her, and he's been really good to her. Honestly, never thought I'd say it, but he's become like a brother to me. I usually look forward to our playful banter and then watching him whine and pout and tell Emma she hasn't spent enough time with him, but something's been off with him lately.

His behavior is as if he's walking on eggshells around me. His glances were full of concern. His questions, 'How are you?', 'Do you need to talk?', etc., etc. have been way more persistent. Nothing about me has changed, at least I don't think it has. I have no clue how he's somehow gotten the skill to look right through my mask.

I risk a glance over at Emma, eyes narrowing. She was chewing her lip, her fingers tap tap tapping. It was a trait she picked up from me. She used to complain about how fidgety I was, constantly having to at least drum my fingers or shake my knee to be able to focus. Something that became more incessant as I would get nervous or uncomfortable.

And then I noticed her doing the same thing whenever she got... nervous. 'You must have rubbed off on me,' she'd say. Well, it's a two-way road, Emma. Because your annoyingly empathetic self rubbed off on me too.

I left her with a habit she hated, and she left me with the ability to read her emotions like a book. It had it's benefits. We push through the bustling crowd, making our way to the ‘glass room,’ as we so eloquently coined it in our 1st year. It was a room with an entire wall made up of windows and an almost simple back-patio-like door that worked as one of the many exits that led to the courtyard. It was our favorite, just because of how homey it felt.

I twist the doorknob, pulling the door open for her before following her outside. There was a small friendly match of quidditch being played on one side of the courtyard, some kids were studying, and there was just a general bustle of life out there. Both from the students and from nature. As we walked down the steps and into the grass, further past everyone, weaving through all the hubbub and finally getting away from all the prying ears, I turned toward Emma. We continued down to the lake but now we finally had privacy.

“Emma, what’s been up with you? You and Theo, now that I mention it. It’s felt as if you’ve both been… watching me. It’s kinda weird.” I nervously laugh, running a hand through my blonde curls to push them out of my face. Our black robes with yellow accents swished with our movement, though Emma’s posture noticeably stiffened when I spoke up.

She slowed to a stop, hand reaching out to grab my own and making me halt right alongside her. “Em?-” “I know.” “Know what?” “I know you’re in love with him.” Time seemed to slow. My heart quickened and my hands started tap tap tapping. I tilted my head slightly, looking at her closer. I never told anyone, I never spoke a word about my feelings.

Which means she noticed, she caught on, and she figured it out. She’s the only one who could’ve figured it out. Theo’s too dense to have- she told him. “Love who?” I spat out, anger simmering just below the surface. She caught on to that too. “Matt-” I yank my hand from hers, stomping away from her and towards the water. “Vera! I’m not judging you- stop just stop running away!” “Running?!” I whip back around. “You told Theo!”

Her eyes looked wet, her lip trembling as she took in my ruffled appearance. “I didn’t.” I scoffed. “I didn’t.” She repeated with a firmer tone this time. “He knows you enough to know something is wrong, but he doesn’t know what is wrong.” “My- my love isn’t wrong. It’s not the end of the world for someone to be loved by me.” I shutter out running a hand down my face as I try not to spiral.

I know she didn’t mean it like that, I know she didn’t mean to have that heart wrenching look of pity in her eyes. But I could just hear what she was thinking, my insecurities clanging like a gong in between my ears, ‘Oh Vera, how could you ever think he’d love you back?’

We stood in a field. Surrounded by tall grass and beautiful wildflowers, a lake just a few feet to our right, a tree about two yards to the left of us, and the sounds of our school echoing down the hill and filling the uncomfortable silence that fell upon us.

“Vera…” My friend’s words cut through that very silence, voice sincere. “...you love with a love so loyal, that you are content with standing on the sidelines for years. You love, with a love so fierce, that you will defend and fight and protect even when the object of your desire doesn’t take notice. You think I haven't noticed your absolute adoration toward the boy? I picked up on it back in 2nd year. You can’t keep secrets from me, you know that.” We both laughed through tears at that one.

I looked at her in shock, not knowing what to say.

But she quickly spoke up before I could even fully process what she said before, “You love with a love anyone would be blessed to receive. But the fact of the matter is, you absolutely suck when it comes to confessions.”

My eyes narrowed at that sudden change in tone, getting whiplash from how fast she went from serious to downright insulting. It would be funny if the situation wasn't so emotional.

“You watch him from afar, you love him at a distance, but graduation is closer than it's ever been and you’re letting him slip through your fingers. I’ve watched you lose yourself in this love for long enough. It’s time, Vera. Tell him or move on but I won’t let you throw away our last years at Hogwarts just because you were trying to hold on to something you’ve never had.” I flinched at that, looking back toward the ground.

“I-I don’t know what you’re saying…” Evidently, Emma crossed the distance separating us, and I felt her hands comfortingly squeezing my shoulders. “I’m saying… it’s time you come clean. It’s time you tell Mattheo you’re in love with him.”

Emma met a boy with eyes like a man Turns out her heart fits right in the palm of his hand Now he'll be her shelter when it rains Little does he know, his whole world's about to change

So I told him I love him.

KIDDING. After Emma surprise attacked me in that field, I ran back to our dorm and hid until noon the next day. She gave me her notes and we caught up on all the classes I missed, and then we talked for hours about him. And I told her everything.

Everything I felt toward him, everything I loved about him, everything I knew about him. She just smiled at me and rubbed my back during it all, giving nods of encouragement as I stuttered over my words.

The days went by as I tried to figure out what to do. I’d sound absolutely bonkers if I just went up to him and professed my undying affection. I’d become every other girl! ‘Except this time, it’d be a girl who truly cares about him…’ I thought bitterly to myself.

Every time I started to brainstorm on how I could run into him or get his attention, I felt like a crazy person. Like someone could peer into my thoughts and watch as I spiraled further and further into the madness of conspiracy theories and red string. It felt wrong to be so… calculated with him. He deserves better than that.

So I stayed quiet, waiting for an opportunity but not pushing it. Waiting for the stars to align and him to drop in my lap. Waiting like I’ve been waiting for the past six years. My frown deepened at that thought, heart weary as I walked into Transfiguration. Three things immediately drew my attention to the far corner of the room.

The object of my affections was actually… attending class.

He was sitting in my seat.

He was staring right at me.

I gulp, hands flexing around the strap of my satchel, nervously and uncomfortably holding eye contact with his gorgeous chocolate pools, the windows to his soul. The only way to describe the emotions swarming in those very same windows, was… curiosity? Amusement? Warmth? It was hard to tell at this distance—the occasional student walking to their seat or passing by to meet up with their friends making it hard to gaze wholly into his eyes.

‘Oh how I wish I knew what you were thinking…’ I shake my head, breaking that train of thought as well as the spell Mattheo and I seemed to be under. A shoulder bumps into me, reminding me I was planted in the doorway. I crossed the threshold, walking towards Mattheo— my desk.

“I’d say I was happy to see you but I’d be happier if I had my own seat.” I prodded jokingly as I sat down rather heavily in the seat to his left. A laugh slipped out of his lips, the corners of his mouth curling into a smile, throwing his head to the side to look at me. “Your seat? I’ve never seen you sit here, baby.” Mattheo teased, eyes glinting with humor.

I felt my cheeks burn at that comment. He said it so casually, that term of endearment that I would give anything to hear him say with meaning.

Our interactions always went this way. He'd shamelessly flirt with me (making me feel as if I couldn't breathe), I tried my best to meet his challenge (occasionally I got him to blush too), and it always ended with him walking away without a backwards glance. ‘Stop, stop thinking that. He’s talking to you, talk back!’ My inner Jiminy Cricket chides.

“You’ve never seen me sit here? Well, darling, I’d have to say this is the first time I’ve seen you in this class. It’s no wonder you’ve never noticed me sitting here.” Mattheo’s eyes widened slightly at that but his smile never faded, pleasantly surprised respond with your own pet-name.

“Wizards and witches, quiet down!” Professor McGonagall called out, dropping a heavy book onto her desk. The sound of the loud thud echoed as the surrounding voices hushed to a silence. She had everyone’s attention. Well, everyone except for the two kids in the far corner.

We continued gazing into each other’s eyes, brows furrowing into an almost challenge to see who’d turn away first. “Ah, Mr. Riddle. Glad to see you bothered to grace us with your presence.” The older woman clicked her tongue, effectively pulling us apart, our eyes breaking contact as our heads whipped toward her. “Talk to me after class.” McGonagall made sure to stare point blank at Mattheo, voice steady and tone devoid of humor. “Fuck, she looks mad.” I put my hand over my mouth, holding in a snicker at Mattheo’s whispered comment as our teacher begins her lesson. “Stop, you’re gonna get us in trouble.” I scold, opening my notebook and reaching into my bag looking for a quill. Oh crap.

My eyes widened in panic. No quill. I started unzipping the different pockets, rummaging around, hoping that with enough silent begging and prayer, one would just magically appear. ‘It’s fitting we’re in Transfiguration… maybe the lesson will be on “Making Your Own Quill.”’

I’m pulled out of my inner grumbling with a tap on my shoulder. I was bent over toward the side, in between Mattheo and I’s tables, searching as silently as possible for anything to write with. So the sudden feeling of two fingers tapping my arm made me jump slightly.

I glance up, seeing the prettiest and most annoyingly smug grin. “If I lend you a quill, will you lend me your seat?” He asked, tapping on the chair he was leaning back in. I frown, eyebrows furrowing yet again as I sit back up. “You not only brought one, but two quills? I didn’t know you owned a notebook.” I whisper back, happily shocked to find out he had planned to pay attention today.

“No, I brought one. And trust me, it was a spur of the moment decision. Deep down we both know I wasn’t gonna use it anyway. Just take it.” He finally pulled out the writing tool from his bag, sliding it onto the wood slab in front of me.

“Mattheo I can’t take your onl-” “You can, and you will.” He smirked, insisting. "Well..." I sigh, nodding as I picked up the feather. "...Mattheo Riddle. You are my hero." "Call me any day baby, I'm happy to rescue such a beautiful damsel." His eyes glinted with amusement at my burning cheeks.

He turned back to face the front of the class, his heart stopping stupid ass grin staying plastered on his gorgeous stupid ass face. ‘He called me bea-HE CALLED ME BEAUTIFUL. What the heck is happening.' I close my eyes, breathing in and out a few times to try to get control over my racing thoughts.

'Will I ever get used to the utter heart palpitations this man causes me to have? It’s like a rabbit is trapped in my chest.’ I shake my head, looking back down at my journal.

I didn’t even know where to begin, utterly lost in this day's lecture as the past however-many-minutes was spent paying attention to Mattheo and panicking over my lack of writing tools rather than the actual subject Professor McGonagall was droning on about.

My thoughts wander back to what I was thinking of before I saw the beautiful boy to the right of me. I’ve been waiting for six years. For six years I’ve been waiting for the perfect opportunity to drop in my lap, or for Riddle to come profess his love to me, or something, anything. I can’t even remember at this point.

I was tired of it all. Tired of waiting, tired of not knowing, tired of not living just because I yearned for something I didn’t have. I dip the quill in the ink, hesitating as the tip hovered over paper. The ink gathered at the point, almost falling off and splattering on the white page.

I glance to my right, gazing fondly at him. His profile, his curls, his general posture as he tried to pretend he was paying attention but he was simultaneously fighting sleep. His eyes kept fluttering shut and he was slumping further and further down into his chair.

I look back down at the paper. I’m tired of waiting. And so I began writing.

I met a boy with eyes like a man Turns out my heart fits right in the palm of his hand Now I’ll be his shelter when it rains Little does he know, his whole world's about to change

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asunsetgrace16 · 7 months ago

Text

✧ 𝗪𝗘 𝗗𝗜𝗗 𝗔 𝗧𝗛𝗜𝗡𝗚⎥𝗠𝗕12

Pairing: Matt Boldy x fem!reader

Summary: the one where Matt and Y/N eloped

Warnings: swearing, kissing, a really cringe proposal speech from Matt, drinking

Notes: Your cat is named Fish. He is fluffy and grey with green eyes. This is my longest piece yet, though the bar isn't that high

masterlist⎥ navigation

1.4k Words

Part 2

One week into the playoffs. One week since their last game. Matt accepted the invitation to go to worlds. And everybody is going stir crazy. Even the cat.

Matt and Y/N lie in bed, tangled in sheets with the comforter half off the foot of the bed. Matt's warm chest is pressed into Y/N's back, and she snuggles closer when Fish lands at her feet. He goes in circles, pawing at the blanket trying to get settled. Ultimately he wanders up the bed and sits, meowing impatiently. Matt cracks an eye open.

"Shoo, cat. You have an automatic feeder for a reason. With all that ruckus you're making you will wake up mom." Matt hisses at the cat, pushing up onto an elbow.

Fish just blinks. And yawns, thoroughly unaffected by Matt's words.

"It's alright, I was mostly awake anyway." Y/N says, rolling over onto her back. Matt gazes down at her, a soft smile on his face, simply enjoying her beauty. He doesn't know how he got so lucky.

"I love you, you know. More than I ever thought I could" He whispers. The moment calls for it.

"I love you too, Matty." She says back to him, reaching up to run her fingers along his jaw. Matt leans down and meets her in the middle for a quick kiss, avoiding morning breath if at all possible. He props himself up against the headboard and pulls Y/N to lounge between his legs, snugly in the circle of his arms. Fish moves to the other end of the bed and lays down in a huff. Fickle creature. Matt drops his head to rest on her shoulder, pressing soft kisses on her skin. They bask in the warmth of the sun streaming through the curtains, which lift with a light breeze. These warm mornings are something they cherish in the hustle and bustle of the regular season.

Y/N relaxes back in Matt, feeling his heartbeat softly. She intertwines their hands, letting out a sigh of contentment. Matt shifts behind her, getting more comfortable.

"Marry me." Matt says softly, abruptly into the stillness of the room.

"What?" Y/N asks incredulously, turning slightly in his arms.

"I said, marry me. Right now. It's not like we haven't talked about it before. I already know I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Why not get married?" He repeats, more intensely this time.

Y/N scoots forward and out of his arms to properly look at him, "Matt, you are fucking insane. We don't have time right now. We can't plan a wedding that fast, and you have worlds right away."

"No, no, not plan a wedding. Just the two of us."

Oh. Elope. Matt can see the wheels turning in your head, working backwards to create a timeline.

"Oh. So if we do this, are we telling anybody? Will we go back to Mass or do it here?" Y/N asks.

"We could drive over to Duluth, they have a beautiful old courthouse. Then there is no chance anybody who knows us would see us. I kinda like the idea of it being our secret for a while"

Y/N cracks a grin, teasing, "In a black suit and white dress, no less." She pauses for a moment, brows furrowing, "Can we really pull this off?"

"I think we can."

"Well, now you have to actually ask me. Kneel down, the whole bit."

"Are you serious?" Matt groans playfully.

"As a heart attack."

"Fine." He stands up, stretching as he goes. Y/N enjoys the sight of his golden skin in the sunshine. He grabs her hand and pulls her up with him.

"Here goes nothing." He says, going down on one knee. "Y/N, you are the love of my life, I have no speech prepared. I can't imagine a day without you. Y/F/N, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?"

"Yes, one hundred times yes." She answers giggling and smiling through tears. Matt breaks out into a broad grin, standing up. He pulls her into a kiss, one of pure love and joy.

Pulling back, Y/N says, "Wait wait wait, are we forgetting something?"

They stand looking at each other, racking their brains for what they could possibly need.

"The rings!" They say in unison.

"Duluth has jewelry stores, we will get you an engagement ring and wedding bands there."

"I'll book a hotel for a few days and scope out stores. Will we come back here or are you meeting somewhere for worlds training?" Y/N says.

"Training doesn't start until next week. What's today, Wednesday? If we can swing it, let's leave late this afternoon. Book the hotel through Saturday."

"Ok. You contact the Justice of the Peace for a marriage license."

Plans were made hastily. A few days’ worth of clothes were tossed into suitcases.

“Matt!’ Y/N calls, “what suit do you want?”

“Black two-piece, please, and a white shirt. And a tie, not the bowtie. You know what, throw both in and I can decide tomorrow.” Matt answers, walking into their bedroom. “What dress did you decide on?”

“I went out over lunch and stopped at the boutique on Larson that I like. I had seen a dress there the last time I went and luckily they still had it.”

“Well, let’s see it, beautiful. Unless you aren’t letting me see it until tomorrow, are you?” Matt teases.

“You can see it, let me grab my shoes.”

Y/N changes in their closet. Sliding on her heels, she catches her reflection in the mirror. ‘Matt better think I look as good as I think I do’, she thinks to herself. Walking out of the closet, she stops in front of Matt and spins.

The dress is a soft cream satin, ending just above her knees. It has a simple square neckline and fitted waist, the skirt falling in gentle pleats.

“Oh my…, baby you look stunning.” Matt breathes.

“Really?” She asks shyly, “my hair isn’t done, and neither is my makeup. Is it too simple?”

“No no no, you look so beautiful, even with a messy bun and no makeup. I’d marry you looking like this if I could.” Matt stands quickly, capturing her around the waist and spinning her around. Y/N grins, throwing her head back and laughing as Matt picks her up and spins her again.

“Ok, put me down so we can finish packing, and then we are ready to go, I think.” Her dress and Matt’s suit are packed in garment bags, shoes and a curling iron are the last things into the suitcases. After refilling Fish’s feeder and leaving an unnecessary note for their regular pet-sitter, Matt and Y/N are on the road.

“Here we are.” Matt says, stopping in front of the door that will change their lives. “You still good? Your hands are a little sweaty.”

“Yeah, just nervous, you know? Not cold feet, just nervously excited. You still have the rings?” Y/N replies.

Matt feels the heavy weight of the ring box in his jacket pocket, matching the true weight of their decisions. “Yeah, still got ‘em.”

“Good.” Y/N says letting out a breath, steeling her nerves. “Let’s do this.”

“...and I now pronounce you husband and wife. Matt, you may kiss your bride.”

Matt is quick to kiss her, leaning her back into a saucy dip. She hold tight to his shoulders, feeling his wedding band press into her ribs. Pulling apart as they stand up, Y/N and Matt wear matching grins, eyes shining with tears.

“Holy shit we’re married!” Y/N shouts with a laugh, still not used to the weight of her wedding rings. The justice smiles at her.

“Hell yeah, we’re married.” Matt echoes her sentiments.

“Come, let’s get the license signed and get you two on your way.” the Justice says to them. They sign the license, taking a copy for themselves. The justice shakes their hands, offering his congratulations and well wishes. The photographer that was provided takes a few more photos before wanting to get some shots outside.

Finally, they make it back to the hotel, Y/N holding a bottle of champagne. They must be a sight, a giggly couple in wedding attire hanging onto each other like they are already drunk. But not on alcohol, they are drunk on love. Stepping out of the elevator, Matt pulls Y/N by the hand.

“Come on Mrs. Boldy, let’s pop that bubbly.” Matt says unlocking the door and walking into their room.

“Mrs. Boldy, I like the sound of that, Mr. Boldy.” Y/N says, linking an arm around Matt’s neck to pull him in for a kiss.

#‣ ✦ ‣ sunset works ＞ fics #‣ ✦ ‣〈 matt boldy 〉#nhl #minnesota wild #matt boldy #matt boldy x reader #hockey imagine #nhl x reader #matt boldy imagine #nhl fluff

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glassbxttless · 2 years ago

Note

So I heard rumors about a Shark Enthusit Matt Solo??

The Tide

Matthew “Matty” Organa-Solo x f!Reader

summary: You finally get to meet Matt’s mom, as his girlfriend and not just a girl in his circle.

word count: 1.7k+

warnings: mentions naked bodies but nothing explicit, au alludes to an eventual emotional incest situation (a toxic mother/son relationship)

notes: this is an installment of a larger au that will be written here on my blog. a similar au is being posted to peachy and i’s shared blog.

There’s a sharp sound ringing in his ears. Matt reaches over to hit the snooze button on his alarm clock next to the bed. 7am. The morning still lays thick outside. It’s barely a sunrise, but it’s quiet and still as he sits up in his bed. He rubs his eyes and slides his glasses on. Matt rubs a palm against his chest as he stands, sauntering quietly across the hall to wash his face and brush his teeth. When he catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, he sees the fading bruises of his last encounter with Sunny— the ones she left right over his heart and left him with their first I love you.

He brushes his hair and pulls on his hoodie, his jeans feel just a little too tight these days. He takes a glance over himself in the mirror and then he pulls his phone out to check the time. He sees the little puffer fish emoji she had sent him this morning, their unsung agreement instead of a typical good morning. It always warmed his heart to see. He’s not sure exactly when it started, but over the last month, he didn’t know a single emoticon could extract such an emotion from him.

Pensacola is a long drive from Miami, where he wishes he was right now. As much as he dislikes sleeping on Randy’s couch— his whole world is in Miami. His school, his internship, his friends, his brother, his girlfriend. But here he sits, getting himself together for a breakfast date with his mama. Normally, he wouldn’t oppose. He loves spending time with his mom. She’s his best friend. Everything he’s turned himself into has been by her hand. He’s stumbling out of the bathroom and quietly walking down the hall. Mako, the old gray tabby cat Matt brought home from a walk when he was ten, rubs against his legs as he starts the coffee pot. When he dumps a cup of food into Mako’s bowl, he takes a second to message Sunny back. The quickest I love you, he’s ever typed out. The first time he’s seen those words written. But it puts a smile on his lips when he hits send, watching Mako’s tail flit to the side as he eats.

Leia comes out of her room, wearing a dress Matt’s never seen. “Your brother and grandpa are going to meet us.” She says as she passes Matt, pouring them both a cup of coffee. Which makes Matt just nod.

He’s the youngest of Leia’s four boys. Kylo, his oldest brother— owns some big shot tattoo studio down in Orlando. Ben, he’s a prosecutor right there in Pensacola. Randy? The brother he’s closest to— his best friend. He’s smarter than Matt could even imagine, a programmer. Works at some software company in Miami. He lets Matt sleep on his couch during the week, while he attends his classes. The classes that point Matt to the best future he can imagine.

Leia marks something off the calendar and it only catches Matt’s eye for a moment. Something about calling Han. Who Matt knows fathered him and his brothers. He knows Leia gets a check from him for the smallest portion of his tuition every month. He’s never met Han, but his brothers have and his brothers have always said he’s not worth the trouble. Matt’s phone is lighting up, Sunny’s face plastering the screen. He’s eager to step away from his mother, cheeks tinged a little red when he ducks out into the hallway— “Hey Sunshine.” His voice is quiet, soft, still a bit sleepy.

And you sit quietly, leaning your elbows against your desk as you watch the wind blow the flag your window faces rapidly. “Matty.” Your voice matches his tone. Sweet and gentle and everything Matt needs. “I didn’t get to say goodnight, didn’t call me when you got in.”

“It was a long drive, bub. Just went to bed.” He says softly and bites his lip gently. He spills the thought brewing in his head for weeks. “How about you come with me next weekend? See where I actually live and formally meet my mom and everything.” He bites down on the tip of his thumb while the offer hangs in the air, but you’re quick to accept.

“yeah, okay.” Your smile is ear to ear. Happy to finally get asked back to see his family. You’ve met Leia, at one of Randy’s barbecues. But not as Matt’s girlfriend. Your hair twirls around your finger as you listen to him talk about his plans for the day. How he’s got breakfast with his mom and his brother. How he’ll video chat you tonight before he goes to bed, he swears this time. “Hey, Matty?” Your voice pitches, stopping the anger filled tangent about shark fin soup before he can start it. “I love you.” Your voice is soft as you say it, making Matt’s heart start to melt. Reminds him of last friday night in your dorm, your roommate gone for the weekend. Tucked under your duvet, your head against his chest in the dim light. Your hands intertwined as your bare skin burns hot each place they touch. It reminds him of the way you whispered I love you so quietly he wasn’t sure if you really said it at first.

His heart wants to burst in his chest but he bites his tongue as Leia turns the corner. “Matthew, we don’t have all day.” It’s a quick jab, but she smiles as she says it— walking over to slide on her shoes.

Matt sighs heavily, “Sunny, I have to go. But I'll call tonight. I promise.” He makes the declaration again before he hangs up. A smile on both of your faces. And Matt makes quick work of finishing his morning routine, washing his face and getting dressed as he drinks the coffee Leia had poured for him. He even brushes out his hair and debates on pulling it up before sending a quick snap to you, counting down the seconds to the following weekend.

Rushing out the door, settling himself into the passenger seat of Mama Solo’s car— he smiles. It’s a thirty minute drive to the restaurant closest to Ben’s firm. The one they always meet at for breakfast. “Ma?” Matt’s voice sounds hesitant, making Leia take the quickest glance at him.

“Yes?”

“I was just… I was doing some thinking.” He starts to fiddle with that little beaded bracelet he’s been wearing since your first date. “I think I’d like it if you met the girl I’ve been seeing… you know? Things are getting pretty serious and I…” he shrugs. “If you’d be okay with that.”

“Of course I’d be okay with that.” Leia says softly, smiling over at him. “If you’re happy that’s all that matters, Matthew… but…” Her smile falters for just a moment. “Those college girls, I wouldn’t… Are you sure this is serious?” She asks, not really meaning anything harmful by it. But the way Matt recoils, suggests he takes it that way.

“I’m very sure.” Matt is quick to offer up the statement, omitting the part about giving you his virginity, his first real kiss, his first relationship. You were his first everything and he’s so serious about you. Doesn’t want things to change and he’s desperate to make sure his mom knows that.

“Just worried about you and those girls in Miami is all.” Leia waves it off and Matt sighs heavily. Randy had warned him of this happening. “I’d love to meet her, Matthew, if she’s someone you’re serious about.”

“She is.” Matt just nods, eyes drifting towards the window. “Next weekend. I’m bringing her when I come home next weekend… Gonna stay in my room.” Matt explains and Leia can’t help but take her turn to nod, just as nervous as he was. Even more so when Matt admits his girl was Randy’s girlfriend’s best friend. “Randy’s how we met, Ma.”

You pack a bag for the weekend as Matt paces your dorm. He’s got his keys in his hand, nervous but excited. Happy to finally have you coming home with him. You pull your bag over your shoulder and smile at him reassuringly. “Listen, my mom is… she’s feeling weird about this.” Matt says softly, “I know I’ve said it before and I know you’ve met. But you met as Randy’s friend. You know? Not my girlfriend and she’s going to be so much worse.” Matt starts to ramble and you place a hand on his cheek.

“It’s going to be fine.” You whisper softly. “We’ve got almost a ten hour drive ahead of us, bub. You don’t need to stress yourself out before we’re even there.” You mention and he nods, agreeing with you. You hold his hand almost the entire ride. Switching seats every few hours, you listen to Matt tell you about his research lab on Black Tip Reef Sharks— how this week he’s gonna be able to get in the cage with them. You watch as the closer you get to Pensacola— how the nerves that have been keeping him up at night begin to creep back.

Matt and Leia had agreed to have this first meeting over dinner. Just the three of them. And Matt takes a deep breath when he parks the car, right next to the SUV that has Pensacola Catholic High School stickers plastered across the back. Matthew Solo: class of 2019– complete with scuba diver above, Randall Solo: class of 2016, paired with a trumpet, Benjamin: class of 2013, you now know he was a high school soccer player from the sticker, and Kylo Solo: class of 2009, with another soccer ball. You smile softly, Matt has always said she was proud of her kids and she is. But you’re watching Matt as he looks his mom’s car over, catching her eye in the driver’s seat. He waves quietly, watching as she gets out of her car. “Here we go,” He whispers as he exits, walking around the car to open your door all while Leia watches.

You feel your cheeks begin to heat up as Matt reaches for your hand to help you stand. He kisses your head and walks over to Leia, hugging her as tightly as he could. He introduces the two of you quietly, his own cheeks turning the brightest shade of pink as Leia pulls you into the tightest hug you could imagine. “It’s nice to finally meet you properly.” She makes a point to squeeze your arm which finally helps Matt to relax and allow himself to think this is going easier than he had hoped.

tags ;; @peachyproserpina

#glassbxttless #glassbxttless adcu #matt solo #matty x reader #matt solo x reader #matt the radar technician #matt the radar technician x reader #matt the radar tech #matt the radar tech x you #matt solo x you #cw: emotional incest

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glassbxttles · 4 years ago

Note

"now everyone's going to know you're mine." and "louder, i want them to hear you." for Matt or Flip please?

Hi, sweetheart! I hope you like this one! Sorry for the taboo tattoo if you’re not into that! But I am so I enjoyed it 😂

Word Count: 832

“Been thinking about a tattoo.” You mumble from the couch, flipping through pages of a magazine as Matt stood at the counter cooking dinner for the two of you.

You could hear the knife stop hitting the cutting board and you smiled, looking over at him. “Any ideas of what I could get?” You knew what you wanted. You knew what he wanted you to have. But that didn’t stop you from asking.

“I dunno, Sunny.” He swallowed thickly, wondering how you’d look with a butterfly on your hip, or a quaint little sun on your lower back. Or maybe his name brandishing that place instead.

You watched as he went back to cutting the carrots quietly, his mind other places. You shook your head and sent off an email for your appointment.

Three weeks later, you were showing off your dainty little collarbone tattoo— Matty in cursive, the Y wrapping into a little sun. You knew the taboo of having your partner’s name inked into your skin, but you couldn’t get away from how excited it got Matt. How he’d ask you to wear the shirts and dresses that showed off your neckline each time you went out. Or how he’d suck a mark right under it, whispering a quiet “You’re all mine.” Into your skin.

Matt had such a pep in his step these days and you attributed it all to that tiny little tattoo. In fact, he’d changed his lock screen to a photo of your neck littered in dark purple marks he’d left there— you had the pleasure of covering them up every morning— with his name on full display.

Maybe the day you’d come home with it, not letting him see or know what you were getting, he bent you over your kitchen counter. He was kneeling behind you, pressing soft kisses into your skin. “Can’t believe I’m lucky enough to have you, Sunny.” He mumbled. “Gotta teach all those shitty boys you’re mine, huh?”

You just turned your head slightly down to look at him, his cherishment of your body always made you blush. Maybe it set a fire between your thighs as well. His kisses moved up your spine, pressing his body into yours as he leaned over you to finish his kisses along your jaw. “I fucking love you.” He mumbled quietly.

“What are you waiting on, Matty?” You wiggle your hips against him.

“Gonna have the upstairs neighbors knowing my name, Sunshine. Aren’t you?” He was dragging the zipper of his jumpsuit down and maybe he ripped the edge of your skirt as he was trying to get you out of it. You whine slightly, “shut it, I’ll buy you a new one.” He held onto your shoulder as he guided himself between your thighs— directly into the wetness pooled there. “Jesus, Sunny. Already wet for me?”

You nodded, biting down on your cheek. “Always.” And you weren’t lying. Matt usually had you writhing by noon.

“Good girl.” He mumbles as he pushes your thighs apart a bit more to shove himself into you. You gasped, knowing he usually gave you a bit easier time than that.

But that wasn’t on Matt’s mind tonight. That tiny tattoo and the thought of everyone knowing you were his was. It spurred him on. Kept his hips moving at a pace you weren’t used to. “Say my name.” He mumbled through gritted teeth.

“Matt.” Your voice was shaking with each thrust inward.

“Louder. Want the whole fucking building to hear you.” He was gripping your hip and your shoulder hard enough to leave 5 finger shaped bruises on each spot. “Know you can be louder for me, Sunny.”

You mustered up everything in you to be louder— but you fucking couldn’t. Your voice was gone. Matt was too much. Your brain was reeling. You couldn’t place your thoughts as you leaned your head on the counter. “Had to go put my name on you, huh? Teach everyone whose girl you are?”

“Yes— I.. Matt.” You were clenching your own teeth, trying to hold off on that pleasure wave building up in the pit of your stomach. Just as the thought was crossing your mind, Matt was tensing— spurting rope after rope of white inside of you. He was breathing heavy, arms shaking as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to his hips as he rubbed your clit into a tighter little peak. “Matty…”

“Come on, Sunshine? You’re a good girl, huh? Took all my cum.” He mumbled softly. “Wanna take yours. Be a good girl for me and cum.” He was mumbling the words into your shoulder. You could only half hear him. Then you were clenching around him, the mix of both of your spend, starting to drip out around him as he continued to rub through your orgasm.

“Such a pretty tattoo.” He whispered as he pulled himself out of you, giving your ass a gentle squeeze. “I love it.”

#matty is a sweetheart #matty is my baby #matt is superior #im literally so soft for matt and sunshine #matt loves his name on your skin #matt also might just love tattoos #matt the radar tech #matt the radar technician x reader #matty x sunshine #matty x sunshine warms my heart

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peeterparkr · 3 years ago

Text

red; tom's version|one.

chapter one: sad, beautiful tragic. “Long handwritten note deep in your pocket”

pairing: Tom Holland x Reader (tom's not famous here) story summary: you’re reminiscing through your relationship months after the heartbreak and breakup. Wondering if it went wrong from the very start when Tom arrived at New York, and him being a cautionary tale or if the problems came along the way. Perhaps the key to find back your way to him is going back through the nice things before the heartbreak came. Or is it too painful to go all over again?

chapter summary: you haven't seen him since he ditched you, after months of wearing plaid you go out and realize he's back in new york warnings: angsty, I mean it's a breakup, swearing. word count: 7.3k playlist (updated after each chapter, including Red songs+ other for the chapter): Spotify | Apple Music

fic masterlist next chapter

a/n: Hi, I couldn't wait to share it so I said, screw it, I'm posting this. You don't know how excited I am to write this and share it with you. As you know, this is inspired by Red by Taylor Swift and will hurt. So I expect us all to be crumpled up pieces of paper wearing scarves by the end of this. (perennial is still coming, I'm just waiting on a few people who're reading it). SPECIAL THANKS TO @erodasghosts for reading it and hyping me up and helping me figure this all out. I hope you guys all like it as much as I did. The story is set in New York. Please give feedback!

One month after the breakup.

Strong whiskey, on the rocks. That was his drink of choice that night. The night before had been a beer. You knew you could imagine the taste of his lips by only looking at him. You wondered if he’d gone there for a second night for the same reason you had.

When you had seen him across the place the night before, you had tried to decide how to feel. We always think we will react one way or another when we see our official heartbreak walking through. Victorious as he is perfectly dressed, with his hair flowing.

He hadn’t brought her. Which you didn’t know how to feel about.

The day before you had not been alone, Jules, Matty, and Lula were there.

“Shit, the axolotl at 10 o'clock, you’ve got to be shitting me,” Lourdes, Lula, had whispered before sipping her drink, a Long Island Tea. “We are celebrating she’s doing better, can’t fucking believe this,” she hissed at Jules who only lifted her chin slightly to see who she was referring to. “What the fuck is he doing here? Ay, es que, con qué huevos se atreve a venir aquí? Que no mame.” [with what balls did he dare to come here? He shouldn’t fuck with us. ]

You loved hanging out with Lula and listening to her very refined Spanish cursing.

“It’s not him,” Julia said.

You tried looking back to see who they were referring to. “Who is—?”

“Y/N, wait I just noticed the haircut!” Matt pointed out, reaching over, getting your attention back to them and not at whatever they were referring to. “It looks great. It’s like a new you!”

This new you. The one that had been screwed over twice. Men really have the nerve when it comes to breaking hearts. They recklessly go in and let you believe love comes in all shades of colors, passionate red like the roses they send, and tender pinks like your sweet innocence that they end up stealing. But they never tell you it’ll be you all alone in a dark room with shades of grey under a flickering light that barely warms you.

The new you, which was still a bit lost. Your old self was a stranger to you now. You had no idea who this new you was, she was quiet now. Didn’t have a heart because someone had stolen it and broken it and left it behind a dumpster. Still trying to find it. The new you wasn't.. you.

Your friends were glad, however, they finally got you to go out again. After weeks of wearing plaid and watching Fleabag, and even considering watching Greys Anatomy, a low point, you had finally decided to come back to see if there was any sunshine left for you.

It’s important to point out that you had been broken-hearted and almost crazy when the breakup had happened. Very… delusional. You were not proud of the way you’d reacted. Although you wouldn’t have reacted any other way.

The city had been quiet, the red lights seemed to last longer, and the crowds would often swallow you. The city you once loved was now an open book of a relationship that seemed real, should’ve known it was all fiction.

In your dreams they’d be bright, colorful. The village is aglow. Cold days with warm hearts. Like his.

You’d been cold ever since.

“Ah, yeah, the haircut. Got it today. Lula’s idea” The haircut had come as the solution to a problem that would never be solved. As if cutting your hair meant there was something you had the power on. You didn’t.

How stupid was it? You couldn’t control your life.

“It suits her well, doesn’t it?” Lula admitted proudly.

You still had his picture engraved in your heart. You still dreamed he would come back and say it was all a nightmare.

“It’s nice, I’m glad to have you back,” Jules commented. Julia had probably been the most surprised with the news of the breakup, she had almost gone and killed Tom when he had….unimportant. She hadn’t, though, and she had yet to tell you the reason why. Julia had been mysterious since.

“I’m glad to be back,” you confirmed. You’d ordered a beer, and maybe you shouldn’t have. Stella Artois, his one favorite. You pocketed the beer cap. “Though I was not gone.”

Matt watched you, him and Julia had recently started dating. Best friends since kids who just recently confessed their feelings for each other, took them long enough. “How back are you, though?”

“Meaning?” You asked, taking a sip.

Matt shrugged, “I could introduce you to some friends from work, there’s this hot guy—“

“No,” you interrupted him, leaving the bottle down as you had almost choked. “No, no. Not in the dating area yet. Won’t be in a long time. Still healing.”

Lula still had her eyes glued elsewhere. “Healing from a bullet hole, y/n, whatever you’re doing isn’t working, and band aids won’t fix it—Jules it is, I swear to god it’s him.”

“It’s not him,” Julia rolled her eyes.

“Ay, que sí!” [he is]

“Who?” You asked.

Julia took your hands, “you know Lula,” she rolled her eyes. “I love that you ordered a beer.”

“Yeah,” you gulped. “Beer is universal language for men as in: ‘don’t get close to me.’” A lesson someone dear had taught you once.

Matt tilted his head in agreement, “Yeah.”

“Really?” Lula frowned, “should’ve ordered one. Next time I’ll ask for my drink but instead of a glass I’ll ask them to put it in a beer bottle.”

“Wouldn't it be easier to order a beer?” Matt suggested.

“But then I’d break our tradition.”

Matt watched her, “you really are something.”

You chuckled.

“Why is beer seen as not—feminine?” Matt questioned.

Julia shrugged. “It’s beyond me, really. It’s a drink.”

“Like does my drink make me less of a man?” Matt watched his glass, another Long Island Tea. A stupid inside joke you all had.

“No,” you admitted. “But you know how society is. Since it’s sweet, it’s got to be—“

“Oh, no, no, I love you, y/n, but tonight I don’t want you lecturing us on it, no, tonight we are having fun, ok?” Lula reminded you. “We will not talk about femininity or lack of a beer—or whatever your agenda is up to these days, which, hey! Why does y/n get to break the rule?” Lula questioned. “No Long Island Tea?

Julia glared at her, “Because she can do whatever she wants tonight,” she hissed and then turned to you. “But how are you feeling? It’s your first time going out in months, is it as fun?” Julia was the one to try to cheer you up the most.

No, it wasn’t fun.

“I—feel good!” You lied. Although you were not. But you guessed that’s the response they wanted after seeing you laying down on the ground and crying yourself to sleep. Staring at windows and walking down in the rain. They wanted you to feel better.

Your body was covered in scars.Though, they were from adventures.

“Bullshit,” Lula intruded. “You seem sad. Maybe I’ll get some shots,” she announced before going to get some.

“Well,” you chuckled. “My first time going out and you bring me back to the place where it all started?” You answered cynically but then shrugged. “I’m—I…no. I just—It’s weird. I still see him everywhere, and as I’m here it’s like watching a movie of our greatest moments,” you admitted. “Like hey, look over there, it’s Tom and Y/N’s greatest moments,” you stated, Lula got back. “Let’s start memory lane…”and you sighed and continued with the best presenter voice you had. “Here you’ll wonder how the hell did it go so wrong since they were so perfect, what the hell went wrong, when did it turn into some sad stupid love affair. You’ll be asking yourself hey, they seemed in love, over there, they danced! Over there… they sang a song together! See over there? There was a fucking jukebox in which they have memories! Oh they have memories there too! And you’ll ask yourself, he made it seem real, what the hell happened?” You sighed exhaustedly. “What happened? What the fuck happened? How was I so stupid?” You ran your hands through your face.

Your friends only watched you, with pity, sadness. Even Lula had turned her gaze guilty.

You cleared your throat, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Lula sighed, “it’s our fault for bringing you here. We’re fucking idiots. Besides he is—Julia I swear to god, he is there.” Lula raised her hand and Julia quickly pulled it down.

Julia bit her lip, “I—hadn’t realized how much Tom there is here.”

“Yeah.”

“He called me—“Matt had started.

“No, no, we can’t talk about him, baby,” Julia reminded him. Matt widened his eyes and nodded.

You blinked, “no, it’s—He called you? Tom?” Why had Tom called Matty? What for?

“Yeah, had a missed call,” Matt explained, ignoring his girlfriend. “I—it was this morning.”

You felt your chest twist. “Yeah, I get a lot of those too.”

Perhaps he wanted to talk to you and thought Matty was dumb enough to give you the phone.

Julia glared at Matt. “We promised not to—“

“No, hey,” you stopped her. “I—sorry, I brought him up.”

“But we shouldn’t talk about him,” Julia insisted. “Tonight is all about having fun,” she stated as she handed everyone their shots.

“No, it’s alright,” you said. “I’m fine talking about it.”

Lula turned her gaze to you. “Shouldn’t you hate him?”

Were you supposed to hate someone who gave you something so beautiful? Just because it’s over doesn’t mean you have to look back and hate it.

“No,” you answered simply.

Matt watched you. “Wait, really?”

You took a deep breath. “Yeah, I’m—I decided I’m thankful for everything. He really… I… I mean I knew from the start he was trouble. But he got me to get rid of Will. So I’m thankful for Tom. He showed me some beautiful things about him, about myself and… I’m thankful. Even the part when he broke my heart.”

It was a lie. Partly. You had been so full of doubts that you only tried wondering why it had gone so wrong. Or course, the lie was there. His lies. But how could any of it be a lie?

Julia smiled gently, “You’re really a grown up.”

“Or very stupid.” Lula commented.

“Thanks, Lula, I appreciate it,” you rolled your eyes. “I… well, I’ve gotta admit I was pretty stupid.”

Lula shrugged, “Hey, I don’t blame you, boy came in with an accent, he had a cute smile, he was hot, I must admit, and he wasn’t one of those Brooklyn fuckboys that take you to the rooftop and offer you a whiteclaw to watch the sunrise together,” Lula gave in.

“Oh, and they take candid pictures, and they say that their phone camera isn’t as good as their polaroid,” Julia laughed, “But hey, you’re lucky they took you to the rooftop, they never take anyone there, they took you there just because you’re…”

“Different,” Julia, Lula and you chanted.

Matt laughed, “You guys are the worst.”

“Anyway,” Lula said. “We should drink these,” she pointed at the shot glasses as she raised her own. “I came here to get drunk. So, to Y/N being thankful Tom was a piece of shit even when the boy had a dreamy accent?”

You closed your eyes, and let out a defeated dry chuckle. “Yes, to that.”

“To the piece of shit, then!” Lula grinned as the shots clinked and were downed. You instantly regretted drinking it.

Lula scowled as she had her eyes glued back at the bar, “It’s him, Julia, it’s him! What is he doing here? Pendejo, I swear to god I’ll go kill him.” She was furious, and you tried once again following her gaze.

The bar was crowded, red lights crossed around the place, with girls walking with tall heels, trying to smile and nod at guys who were talking to them but clearly were not of interest to them. Friends laughing, people flirting. You didn’t know who your friends were watching.

But the bar seemed to be enough of a reminder of him. How he had made you feel like crowds were never there, and how whenever you had been with him everything disappeared just to be with him.

“Who are we killing?” You questioned.

“Is new y/n a murderer?” Asked Matt. Matt and Julia were your oldest friends. The three of you grew up in Staten Island, and now moved to the crowded places.

Lula coughed. “Hope she is.” Lula, on the other hand, you’ve met in college, she was a very defined addition to the friend group. With more personality. A strong one. Lula, Julia and you shared a small apartment.

Julia cleared her throat.

“The fucking scarf,” Lula scowled.

“What scarf?” Matt asked. And you had the same question.

Julia whispered to her boyfriend’s ear who had turned cold. He lifted his head.

“But it’s not.”

“It is him,” Matt confirmed to Lula. “Jules, it is.”

And now your three friends were acting strange. Usually they did but this was strang-er. They all shared looks, Julia struggled with her hands.

They were watching you with pity but you’d gotten used to that. After the breakup they had been extra careful around you, kinder, you guessed.

Fools they were to believe that by not mentioning him you wouldn’t think of him. He was a memory that would haunt you for the rest of the days.

“So, y/n,” Julia was clearly hiding whatever Lula was seeing.

“Wasn’t he in London? What in this fucking world is he doing here?” Lula continued.

“Shut up!” Julia ordered.

“London?” You asked and you lifted your head, and any noise that was bustling before had stopped.

Tom.

Tom was there.

Thomas.

Tom who had broken your heart. In every possible way that he could’ve. Like he had planned it. Like he was aware.

He was there, on a stool with a beer in his hand and wearing a red scarf. The red scarf. As if he was mocking you.

Tom.

Did he pride on hurting you?

He had always said you were invincible. That you were unrivaled in matters of the heart. Was he proud he had beaten the unbeaten?

You’d always thought he would.

When we love deeply, getting hurt comes as a given. But when we love deeply, we are never expecting it to come. And when it does come the skies cannot turn grayer. Funny thing, you were a fan of the rain but when the rain doesn’t cease, the hope doesn’t perdure.

But he was back in your life. Or at least he had been in the same room as you after months.

What was he doing back in New York with your scarf?

You turned back to your own table, breathing in quickly, bringing your hand to your chest in an attempt to calm yourself down.

You saw your friends speaking but you couldn’t make a word of what they’re saying. Your heart was rushing. Thomas was there. Tom. Your Tom. And there was a part of you that had completely forgotten over the heartbreak and wanted to run to him.

Kiss him, try to fix it. Try to bring back the beautiful thing you both had. Because it was. And it hurt looking back.

You were having trouble breathing now, the heartbreak had come.

That’s the worst thing about heartbreak. You never saw it coming, though you should’ve. Though it was beautiful you’d known from the start you’d end up hurt. But when a lie is crafted so beautifully, how could you?

“It’s him.” The words had come in whispers.

You barely remembered what had happened next. You had only stood up, decisive to leave, you’d seen him try to walk his way to you. You’d heard him call your name, but you hadn’t turned back, you had seen Matty stop him from running to you.

It was blurry. You didn’t know how you got home. Desperately trying to understand why he was there and how the night had turned too badly.

Lula and Matt had come back later to find Julia trying to comfort you, hugging a pillow that you were sure he had slept on. Breathless.

But it was in the past now, you were there again. Same bar, both in stools far away.

You were almost sure he’d gone to that bar in hopes of finding you again.

Just like you’d gone again.

His eyes the night before were guilty. You only took a deep breath, you remembered trying to avoid his glance at any chance as you had walked out.

Why were you there again?

That feeling in your chest growing, like there was something heavy expanding. Yet your stomach falling smaller. The pain was but a shield, as if it was creating a special protection around your heart, and though it hurt it was enough for it to make your heart strong to leave the place.

You didn’t want to see Tom. You hadn’t talked to him since. Even when he’d tried to call. Even when you’d tried calling.

Not when you had replayed the breakup over and over and over again since he was gone.

Everyone deals with breakups in different ways. Yours, specifically, was avoiding it. Everything and everyone. Especially Tom.

It was hard when he was everywhere. In that tattoo he’d convinced you to get, in that ring he’d left, in that cereal box that you still hadn’t finished. Whenever you listened to a song he’d recommended. Whenever you’d open Netflix and that series you had started watching together was still recommended to you even when you’d deleted it.

Everywhere.

You couldn’t use your favorite colors because you could hear it, in the back of your head “I love how it looks on you.” “You should wear more blue, it suits you.”

Even your stupid laugh remind you of him. “Your laugh is the most wonderful thing I’ve heard, even if it’s so ugly.”

You missed the person you were when he was with you. How everything was happy. Who was that y/n? Who didn’t mind if she was slightly late to a place because he’d come with you? Who didn’t feel alone at parties when she knew nobody because you knew him?

A y/n that existed only for a short period of time when he’d been around and that he’d shattered like glass when he had the chance.

You missed that y/n.

The y/n that would sometimes lose her breath and catch it back when he walked into the room. A y/n that sang along to her favorite songs all day. The one that would give her heart in a rush to him. The one that watched movies no matter if they were good or not.

Life had colors back then.

Now you were full of regrets and of doubts. Wondering what you had done wrong? Where did it lead you?

You looked up at him then. He was staring down at his glass.

There was a slight trace of him still there, the Tom you once loved. The one with the silly smile and the gentle chuckle, the one with the jokes about everything.

You wondered how much of that y/n he saw too.

You were the same two people, in essence. But how different you were now.

The Tom you knew before finding out it was a lie.

There was still a hint. You knew. But there was so much of him in you that it was hard to see if you still were there. Or the Tom you thought you knew. Not the one with the lie. Or maybe this was the truest Tom he could ever be.

He had to move on, rather quickly, you recalled. If he ever did.

There was a stupid reminder of you in his hand, that red scarf from the very first day.

You still remembered how it all started, a stupid red scarf. He kept it, then, and he wore it.

You had ordered a beer, too. You pocketed the cap again.

But there was an image in your mind, maybe he had gone back and probably had his arm around her and he laughed at a joke she made. Maybe she was funnier than you. Definitely prettier, with her hair falling down all the way to her waist, her clothing accentuating everything you didn’t have.

You recalled having to leave the room when you found out. You had been a mess.

Leaning against a wall as you caught your breath before the tears came down, as if he had pierced right through it. A pain chest that had expanded all the way on your body, not sure how you were able to keep walking back to your place. Falling down to your knees when you did.

Pain. Words failed to describe such a deep sentiment.

But it was gone now. Not entirely but at least you could hold your breath fine when he was just across the room.

What went wrong?

You could ask him. He was right there.

Maybe even tell him how you had lost sight. He hadn’t walked up to you. He was nervous, but he seemed calm enough to see you were there. You were still unsure why you had gone there.

Maybe all the good things were enough to bring you there, maybe the fact that you still didn’t believe it was a lie brought you there. Maybe the fact that one of those pictures from that photobooth was still in a locket. So stupid.

He fiddled with the glass.

You waited and waited but he didn’t approach you. He took out a paper out of his pocket as he stared at it.

You wouldn’t approach him. No matter how happy he had made you once, you wouldn’t walk to him. No matter how beautiful it was. No matter if you were lonely and that when you dared to sleep he’d be haunting your dreams.

It was a tragedy now. What you both were, and not even worth enough to try and save it. You knew you were haunting him too. Otherwise he wouldn’t be here.

He was shakin, as he stared at you, nervous. He downed his drink, you guessed it was for some liquid courage and stood up, with the note in one hand and your red scarf in the other.

Your own courage for coming here was gone, as you saw his intentions, the urge to run you had the night before was becoming you. But he couldn’t walk. He had to sit down again, rubbing his face.

The courage that had come when choosing what Lula called the ‘revenge black dress’ was nowhere in sight. You were cold and regretting putting it on.

“I can’t do this,” you said to yourself and quickly let out some dollars to pay for your drink before picking up your stuff to leave.

You saw he panicked when he saw you leaving, he quickly called the bartender to pay for his drink.

You closed your coat as you were shaking yourself, punishing yourself for going there. Why had you gone there? The man had broken your heart? Were you really there to see him?

Was your heart foolish enough to ignore the warnings in your mind once again?

You walked your way to get to the subway station, how irrelevant you were through the crowds. You hadn’t felt this way for a while, caring for the crowds. But you had to get through them. There was a part of you that wished Tom was following you after. But the crowds didn’t let you see if he was.

Besides, you shouldn’t want that.

You finally managed to get to the station, you clung to your purse as you stared at the tracks, waiting for the next train to come. Peaceful it seemed, the station. As peaceful as New York could be. You guessed if you cried nobody would care.

“y/n!” You heard your name in the distance and you couldn’t handle it.

You took a deep breath and shook your head, angrily. Why had you gone? You could’ve easily kept ignoring his calls. You could’ve stayed in your apartment, crying as you watched SNL videos on youtube, or rewatching a cartoon for the hundredth time, letting your own sadness and self pity swallow you.

But you had gone to him. This was your fault. You should’ve taken a cab, instead, he would know you’d get at this station and he for sure would know what train you’d take.

“y/n, y/n!” He kept calling as he finally arrived next to you. “Sorry I would’ve gotten here faster but the damn MetroCard-”

“I’m not doing this, Tom,” you stated before he could go on rambling like the idiot he was. You couldn’t do it. “Not here, not anywhere. I don’t know what you’re doing here.”

“I…” His face was kind, and he seemed to be nervous. You could tell he hadn’t been sleeping, probably the jet lag.

You took a moment to look at him, he didn’t look as victorious as you had thought he was. His hair was messy, and his cheeks flushed, the buttons on his shirt were not buttoned right.

Seeing him again, with that signature look he had made you want to go down to your knees.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back in London?” You snapped. “With that pretty girl-”

“No, no, I’m-I’m sorry, I’m really sorry,” Tom stuttered. “I was an idiot.”

You stared into his eyes, you were not ready for this. You were not ready to look into his stupid eyes. You looked away. “That’s all you have to say?” You tried walking away from him..

He shook his head. “No, no, no, no, I… No, I actually… I had this… I wrote down my apology,” Tom confessed. He showed you a sad, handwritten paper, now slightly teared up with the ink running. “I… I had….”

You looked down at it, his messy handwriting, crinkled with words scratched down. “You wrote it down?”

You didn’t know why you felt your heart warm. This kind of stuff was why you couldn’t understand what had happened. Someone like him, who writes his apologies down. Someone who stutters when he’s speaking.

“Yeah, I… but I spilled my drink on it after seeing you fled,” He explained, swallowing hard. “I… I… I had written it down so I wouldn’t forget it but now I realize how stupid that is… I’m… I’m really sorry, y/n.” .

You could hear the train coming. You were seeing him again. It hit you right there. And this was not the reaction you thought. You had said you would be delusional, crying and fighting and questioning him why the fuck he had done that.

Yet you weren’t. You were only watching him, eyes full of tears wanting to slide down but unable to. But there was that pain still in your chest.

How could he ever dare to hurt you that way? “I don’t want to talk to you,” you said. And meant it. “Please leave me alone.” You said before walking into the train.

“Y/N, please, no, please, please, listen to me,” He followed you in, the scarf still in his hand.

You tried sitting as far away as you could. Arms and legs crossed as you tried breathing in.

He sat beside you and you changed seats. He sighed but followed you again. “Please, I need to talk to you. I never meant to hurt you.”

“Well you did,” you snapped. “You did, and now you come here a month later with a handwritten note apology thinking I will be fine with it?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I had to solve-Please, would you listen?” Tom asked, knowing damn well he had to ask, and not just straight up blurt it out.

“Why would I, Tom?” You turned to him, with a tear traveling down your cheek. You were incredulous. “You’re kidding me, right? I… You… You think that just because you show up with that stupid face of yours and my scarf I’ll want to listen to you? You’re an idiot.”

He sighed and reached to give you the scarf. You ignored it.You were furious now.

The other people on the train were certainly getting a show. A guy with a backpack was trying to pretend he wasn’t listening but his reactions were giving it away. Another woman pretended to keep reading her book but she hadn’t turned any pages.

Tom took the scarf back staring at it. “I need to explain everything to you.”

“What if I don’t want an explanation?” You snapped. Though you did. You had been waiting for one, you wanted one. You would beg for it. But your pride was taking the wheel of the conversation. “Don’t you think it’s fucking late for it?”

“Is it?” Tom turned back to you.

“Yes!” You couldn’t believe him. But this seemed a bit too familiar of a conversation. “And beside no explanation would make me forgive you!” You stated, whispering, not wanting any of the attention you were receiving.

“I’m not… I… If you just listen to me,” Tom said.

You glared, “I don’t want anything to do with you.”

“Then why did you come to the bar?” He asked.

He fucking asked.

Your eyes widened. He had gone there. He knew. He fucking knew you’d gone back because you wanted an explanation. Or so he thought. No, you’d gone back because… Yes, because you wanted an explanation. Because everything he’d done had been beautiful. Until the heartbreak. He had crafted and vexed his way into your cold stupid heart and then he had gone and pierced right through it, crushed it.

You wanted to ask why. Why did he do it so vehemently?

You didn’t answer, instead you moved one seat away. He kept his eyes on you.

“You wouldn’t have gone if you didn’t want an explanation,” he said. “Or to see me, at least. I know I did, I needed to see you.”

You saw the guy with the backpack purse his lips, knowing that Tom had got you. There was little context for them. The girl with the book directed a glance to you, trying to read your emotions.

If they knew, they’d be on your side and yelling at him as well.

He rested his elbows on his knees and rubbed his face.

“I didn’t, it was a coincidence,” you answered coldly.

“No, it bloody wasn’t,” Tom scoffed and then sat up. “No, I’m… No, but you know, you went to the bar for a reason.”

“And I left for a million more,” you frowned.

Tom pursed his lips and took out the paper again, trying to make out whatever he’d written before. “I’m really sorry.” His eyes traced through the note.

“Are you genuinely trying to read it? Don’t you know what you’re supposed to apologize for?”

Tom looked up, “So you do want me to apologize?”

The guy with the backpack squeezed his eyes shut, knowing Tom had fucked up.

“You’re kidding, right? Yes, you have to apologize, what you did is really, really shitty!” You pointed out.

“But you won’t forgive me, then?” Tom watched you.

“I don’t know,” you said and he looked up, a beaming gaze. “No, I won’t.”

He wrinkled his eyes, “I… I know I’m supposed to apologize, not to expect you to forgive. I'm just…”

He gulped, and then sat back, staring at the dirty walls and lights. He had dressed up. Badly, but he had tried looking good, you could tell. You could smell his lotion, too.

He was fiddling with the paper, crumpling up and then it fell to the floor. You looked at it and somehow related to it, not sure how.

You took a deep breath so you wouldn’t kill him and turned to him. “I have questions for you, if you answer them I might consider listening to you.”

Tom’s eyes brightened up. “Yes, yes, anything.”

You eyed him up and down as he watched you with begging eyes. You avoided his gaze. Tom followed your gaze as you tried to figure out what was the first thing you could ask him. Why had he hurt you?

Why did he not stop and think before making you fall in love with him?

Why did he not stop and tell you the truth?

“Where are you staying?” You asked,

Tom blinked. “Is that… is that the question?”

“No, but I know you don’t know how to fucking get anywhere,” you said.

Tom gulped, “I… uh, again with Harrison,” he explained.

You sighed. You remembered Harrison alright. And though there was a petty part inside you, you would help him out. Knowing he’d always get lost in the city. Though you could let him get lost, so you’d have to go after him and spend a bit more time. With an excuse, because you didn’t seem to have any excuse to be with him.

It hurt. What hurt the most was trying not to look back at the incredible moments you had because none of them were true.

You sighed. “Okay, when we get down you’ll take the F train—“

Tom stopped you, taking your hand. “No, wait, I don’t care if I get lost, okay, I… I just.”

You snatched your hand away from his cold hands he had. You darkened your gaze at him.

“Please, Y/n, I just need a chance. If you don’t want to listen… maybe I’ll just…” He handed you the note.

You crossed your arms, and tapped your foot, trying to decide whether or not to give it to him. “Fine,” you took the note.

You've gotten to your stop. So you stood up.

The girl with the book and the guy with the backpack watched you both as you walked out, pitying they couldn’t follow the drama.

Tom followed after you, he licked his lips. “You… you had questions, right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, taking yet another heavy breath. You turned on your feet to look at him “One, did you lie to me?”

Tom was taken back by this, his eyes, consternated, only watched you. He gulped. “What?”

“Did you lie to me?

“I… well.”

You were getting desperate. “Did you ?”

“I didn’t lie about how I felt,” he said. You knew he wasn’t lying about it. He couldn’t. He couldn’t have ever lied about how he felt because you knew he had felt it too, a bit, at least,

You rolled your eyes, “Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“I mean it, I…” Tom gulped. “I really liked you.”

“Yeah, I know, you liked me yadda, yadda,” you started. Liked not loved. “Cut the bullshit for once, did you or did you not lie to me?”

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes. But I had feelings for you.”

You bit your inner cheeks. “Uh-huh, yes, okay, good, yes, you acknowledge it. So, we have two statements here, Tom. You say you had feelings yet you lied to me,” you squinted. “Sounds-”

Tom gulped and avoided your gaze. “I know yes,” he looked down. “But, if you give me-”

“Ah, buh-buh, nope, I’m just gathering my thoughts here,” you coughed. “I need you to look me in the eyes and tell me what you felt.”

Tom shook his head in confusion. “I—I’m”

“Go on,” you motioned your hand.

“Y/N,” he said. And the way he dared to say your name was like having a knife right through you. “I had—I have feelings for you,” he said looking right into your eyes.

He didn’t say what feelings.

You were not sure where you wanted to go with this. “Fine, my next question…” you really didn’t know where this was going. “So, alright, you…” You couldn’t even phrase it. “You… made me fall in love with you knowing….Well, we both know what you did. What you hid from me. You’re a liar who made me—“

Tom took a deep breath. “Yes, but I didn’t… plan that.”

Your eyes widened. “Oh, so it’s my fault?” You stepped back. “Sorry for developing feelings for you. Sorry for ruining your life—“

Tom closed his eyes, “No, no, look, I… wasn’t. I didn’t come here expecting to meet you, I didn’t want… It just happened, okay, I never thought—You're making it sound like it’s some big master plan. I—I never planned—I never would’ve ever planned on hurting you.”

You watched him, incredulous. “Thomas you do realize what you did to me?”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t! You’re trying to make me seem like I’m crazy for not even wanting to talk to you!” You called him out.

“I’m not, I’m just saying that if you’re here—you must miss it too, you know it was too real, and you want it back, possibly—M-maybe not, but if you came to the bar tonight it was in hopes of finding me again because you knew I’d be there, and you want to feel how you felt before, and i just… you know I miss it and that you knew I didn’t lie—“

You glared at him. “You did lie!”

“Okay—yes, yes I did—But not entirely, I just happened to omit one truth—“

“One very important truth,” you snarked.

“Fine but—please listen,” he tried to convince you. “and I’m sorry, okay? I—I didn’t want to hurt you. But I never planned this. It just happened. I didn’t come here expecting to fall in love with anyone, I didn’t come here trying to date, and I never expected it to be someone as complex—“

“Complex?”

“Yes, I never came to New York trying to find the most mental relationship I’ve ever had—“

“Mental?” You snapped.

“Yes! I love you but you’re fucking crazy! And I am too! I’m fucking crazy and mental but I—I—I loved being crazy and mental with you! We are fucking mental! Driving to nowhere? Breaking into places? Getting a jukebox on the subway? That’s mental! But—but I love that about you, alright? Don’t you get it? I could’ve stayed in London, I could've been the asshole who just ditched you and lied to you—“

You scoffed. “Well that’s comforting!”

“But I’m—I’m here, ain’t I? And I know I fucked up, I know, I accept that, I’m the asshole here, and I know you’ll never—I hid it from you because I didn’t know what was going on, I didn’t even get it myself. I’m here to give you my version of it. I didn’t realize I was falling in love with you…I am…,I am in love with you, and I never planned that, I wasn’t supposed to fall in love with someone else, it just happened. I may have thought it was just—Some fling, initially.”

You laughed cynically. “A fling.”

He gulped. “And the moment I realized what was really going on—”

“You left, that’s what you fucking did, when you realized it was way too real for you, you destroyed the one real thing you’ve ever known,” you barked, he stepped back. “I fell in love with you, I—I—and then you ditched me, and I thought that was the worst thing you could ever do to me but then I realized that it wasn’t real! I—you were never mine, Tom! I simply was—a break you needed or—a fling.”

“It wasn’t that—“

You watched him. Looking so innocent, kind eyes and tender lips. You would’ve believed him had he come before.

“You used me!” You snapped, the words that had wanted to come for a while just blurted out. “I just can’t believe you,” you said. “You don’t feel sorry.” You shook your head, your voice was cracking. “You're not sorry because you don’t understand. You don’t know what I went through, and if you had come earlier, if you hadn’t left me, I probably would have believed you. But—No! No!” You stepped back. “No!”

“I did call! You never picked up the phone! I tried—“Tom started.

“Was I really expected to pick it up? Let’s get back to it. Shall we? The facts. Did you or did you not date me? And made me fall in love with you?”

Tom sighed. “I—yes.”

“Did you lie?”

“…yes.”

You nodded. “Was I the other one?”

Tom squinted his eyes. “No… yes, no.”

You took a deep breath. “Did you leave me without an explanation?”

Tom looked down. “I did.”

“Did you ditch me?”

Tom looked everywhere and nowhere. “Yes,” he answered, defeated.

“Now, do you think I can ever forgive you?”

Tom didn’t answer.

You reached for your purse, for the locket that dug deep inside. “I don’t know you,” you stated giving him the locket, the stupid locket you’d bought as a joke when making fun of other couples and now laughed in your face. “Whatever happened means nothing. Because that’s the thing Tom. Everything we lived was a lie, those two people in the locket are not us, because you weren’t who you said you were, no matter how much I loved it, it’s not true and though it was too many emotions all at once I’m—It’s not real, not for you. I spent this whole time thinking I wanted you to apologize but I don’t want it. That charming guy wasn’t truly you because you omitted one very important thing. You—What were you thinking? Were you planning to never say it? Or did you plan it like that? Just ditching me, hoping I wouldn’t find out—“

Tom took a deep breath. “No—No, I didn’t. I just—-I didn’t know what to do. I’m so sorry, I should’ve told you and I should’ve fixed it before—-“

“No, no you didn’t because it wasn’t enough for you.”

Tom gulped, “It was, it was—-the best thing I’ve ever had.”

“And you ruined it.”

“I’m sorry.”

“How little words mean when you’re a little too late, huh?” And that was the cue you needed to walk away. He silently watched you as you tried not to cry.

“I’m really sorry.” He said.

Was he?

“What if I try to prove it to you?” He asked as you were steps away from him.

You didn’t stop.

“If we go over this, you’ll see I never lied about it.” He continued.

“I already went over it, I remember everything, Tom, and maybe that’s why I don't want to talk to you.”

Tom walked behind, slowly. “I just happened to be very unlucky when it came to my own circumstances,” he reached over. “And I wish the timing had been better. But you’re right, it’s the one real thing I’ve ever had and I lost it because I hid something in fear of losing you. I lied because it was too good to be true. And I understand if you don’t want anything to do with me but I think you deserve to know why. But you went to the bar for a reason, and you had the locket for another.”

You stopped this time. Looking down at the floor and then at his hand, holding your stupid scarf. You shook your head, you really didn’t want to go through it all over again.

“I know you won’t forgive me,” he stated. “But I can’t let you go. You’re everywhere. And I miss the person I was when you were around, and I won’t stop fighting because you’re everywhere. Dreams, nightmares.”

Funny. You were his demons too.

“Am I haunting your nightmares?” You asked. Tom only watched you.

He took a deep breath. “I don’t expect you to forgive me, I just need—I really need you to listen to my version.”

“Fine then, let’s go down this sad, beautiful tragic love affair.”

next chapter

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