#the bottom one has been stuck in my head for WEEKS ever since i saw it. WEEKS i tell you

[gawkeye-pierce]

a small compilation

(x) (x) (x)

[jeanboyjean]

and i - ft. jean kirstein

summary: jean (successfully) tries to make you feel better after a recent breakup

content: friends to lovers, fluff, good vibes, jean brainrot to the max, modern au, college au

a/n: for @honeybleed 90s/00s rnb event!! <3 jean fluff hehehe bc i can't get him out of my brain and he is THE comfort character. inspired by and i - ciara. i love this song big time ♡ laughed so hard watching the music video when she brought out the horse lmaooo 🤔 for my fellow jean girlies!!!

1.2k words

"ugh, i hate him," you grumble, sinking into the couch with a heavy sigh.

jean glances at you, concern etched on his face. "what now?" he asks, taking a seat beside you.

crossing your arms, you slump into the cushions. "he just posted a picture of him with that girl. what a fucking asshole."

jean clicks his tongue, shaking his head in disapproval. "why are you still on his profile? you need to forget about him."

with a frustrated sigh, you shut off your phone. it’s been a few weeks since you ended things with your ex, a decision long overdue. the relationship had lost what little spark had been there in the first place, dragging on for as long as the two of you would let it. the final straw had been when you had found the sexts he had sent to a girl in one of his classes. it stings and it sucks but more than anything, your pride is wounded. the sadistic part of you can’t resist the urge to keep tabs on him and wallow in resentment.

"i have forgotten about him," you say defiantly. "he's just unfortunately like the gum stuck on the bottom of my shoe."

jean lets out a low chuckle. his hands fall to his thighs as he pushes up off the couch. "okay, you know what. let's go for a drive."

curiosity flickers in your eyes as you look up at him, wondering where this is going. 

"come on, let's go," he urges, reaching forward to grab your hand. you let him pull you to your feet.

"alright, fine. but you're shouting me coffee," you tell him with a roll of your eyes, a small smile winning over.

"always," he winks in return with a mischievous lift to his lips.

the music blares as you drive, jean tapping his fingers along to the beat. you hum along, watching the scenery pass by with your window down, letting the cool air blow away your tension. the recent events start to fade away and your mind wanders back to your first break up a couple years ago during your first year of university. jean had been there then too, holding you as you had cried and simmered, until you were ready to put yourself back together. 

he had refused to let you mope around, forcing you to go out with him to movies and parties and bars. he had been the one to listen to your problems as you poured your heart out, making his shoulders your personal dumping ground. jean had been there for you through it all.

you deserve someone who loves all of you. the words he had said to you back then, ring clear in your mind. 

there has always been an underlying tension between you two, a quiet undercurrent that flows beneath the surface of your friendship. from the moment you first saw him, standing across the room at a party in first year, his presence has captured your attention drawing you to him like a magnet. you had become fast friends, sharing everything together from your classes, to your interests, to your deepest darkest secrets.

part of you wonders if he’s ever felt the same way. sometimes you wonder what it would be like if you had found the courage to tell him your feelings, but now you’re in too deep, the confines of your friendship too strong. all this time, you’re pining after him while trying to fill the void with other people, only to be crushed over and over. dreams of making a move dance in your mind, but the fear of jeopardising your friendship holds you back. you’re happy this way, if only because it means you can have him in your life. you’ve sealed these thoughts away in your heart and thrown away the key. 

jean's hand lifts from the steering wheel to turn down the music. "what are you thinking about?" he asks.

you cross your arms to hug yourself. "why is it so hard to find someone? am I just destined to be forever alone?"

he flicks your knee teasingly. "maybe you're looking in the wrong places." he turns his head briefly to meet your eyes. “plus, how can you be forever alone when you have me."

you roll your eyes and poke his shoulder before turning away. “yeah, and where should I be looking then?”

he pulls into the car park in front of your favourite coffee shop, shutting off the car and turning to you. he stills for a moment and takes a deep breath, letting it sit for a moment before releasing. a hand pulls through his hair, coming to rest on the back of his neck. "why not me?" he asks, turning to face you.

your eyes narrow at his words. "don't play around, jean."

"nah, I'm serious," he says. there's a hint of uncertainty in his voice but his gaze is unwavering. "you know I would do anything for you." 

you freeze, chest tightening, feeling the air being sucked out of the car. you hear his words but they don't register, refusing to sink in. the sincerity in his words hang in the air, and for a moment, time seems to stand still. in the quiet, jean's confession lingers like a promise. you want to believe him, to let go of the fear that consumes you but you can't help but hold back.

you shake your head, uncertain of the implications. you’ve both said things like this to each other before, never ones to hold back on sentiment, but something about them today carry a weight you can’t ignore.

"but aren't we friends? i don't want to ruin what we have."

he reaches for your hand across the centre console, his fingers intertwining with yours. his thumb brushes against your skin, sending tingles up your arm. “i would never let anything ruin what we have,”  he says, his eyes never leaving yours, gaze tender but firm. “i've wanted to say this for a long time."

with his free hand, he cups your cheek and leans in, brushing your hair aside. "i could have everything in the world, but I would sacrifice it all for you. stop wasting your time with these losers.” 

your heart pounds, breath catching in your throat. slowly, you allow yourself to acknowledge the feelings that have lingered beneath the surface. "jean..." you whisper, the sound barely escaping your lips.

"please. let me show you."

his lips meet yours, and for a moment, you forget about everything else. the world disappears, leaving only the two of you. it feels like a dream as he pulls you in, your chest flush against his. your fingers comb through his hair, your heart thumping in your chest.

everything about him overwhelms you. his scent, the way his hair feels between your fingers. and the softness of his lips, gentle and warm against your own. 

his hands slide from where they’re tangled in your own hair down to hold your arms, squeezing lightly. he pulls back, his eyes searching yours. the moment hangs in the air, the intensity heavy between you.

"are you okay with this?" he asks, brushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

you nod. a smile stretches across your cheeks as you look up at jean, whose expression mirrors yours. 

it’s more than okay. it’s everything.

you let yourself fall into the moment, unlocking the key to your heart, letting yourself want him. hope flickers in you, anticipation for what this could mean. you finally reach for the love that has always wanted to reveal itself. and this time, it feels real. 

[winterrrnight]

Hey! I love your work, Could you possibly write a Zach Maclaren x reader, where the reader searches for a roommate and she meets Zach and they start being roomies and like cute stuff happens and they end up together🫶🏻

thank you so so much for this gorgeous request! I can't even tell you how much I've always thought about it, I have so so many ideas for it, I am just struggling to put them all together in a good order, so it took me so so long to put it out, but, nevertheless, I hope you enjoy reading it!!

roomies (part I)

PAIRING: zach maclaren x gn!reader

SUMMARY: as your bills pile up and it starts to get lonely living in your apartment, you start your search for a roommate. little did you know, you will come across someone so much more than a roommate.

WARNINGS: none!

EDITH SPEAKS: this is finally out! probably one of my favorite requests I've ever had. this took me so long to write, and honestly, I'm still stuck at a certain part of it, so I decided to split it into parts. who knows, it may become a very amazing series <3

please please reblog if you enjoyed reading this! feedback is always so loved and appreciated <3

navigation || join my taglist || requests

You sigh as you put up one of your last flyers on a pole. It's been weeks since you started looking for a roommate who can move in with you in your apartment, but you've turned up with no luck. Whoever calls you up to be your roommate always has this one problem which is something you just can't handle.

One of the guys who called you up was a drummer, and as much as you love music, all the drumming throughout the day will not help you when you're trying to get some work done at home.

Another one is a complete party animal, and your will power isn't strong enough to wake up almost everyday to a mess of empty alcohol bottles around your house.

So you've made a tough but much needed decision: you will accept whichever person calls next to be your roommate.

Are you desperate? Extremely.

Will it affect you if the person has some qualities or hobbies which do not align with your own life? Of course.

But will it help you pay all your bills? Yes.

No more questions needed.

You come back to your apartment and find an envelope waiting for you in your mail. You open it up to see it's the updated electricity bill for the month. You've seen enough bills with an insane amount of zeroes at their bottom, and this one makes you realise if you don't get a roommate soon, you're going to be kicked out of this apartment.

You sit at your kitchen island, your forearms resting in front of you and your head slumped in your hands as you turn over the details of the current situation you're in over and over in your head. You don't exactly have the most high paying job which can allow you pay all your bills independently, leaving you with enough money for your university tuition and to feed yourself.

Your phone dings with a notification, and you look at it to see it's an unknown number. With hope heavy in your heart you open the text, and you're very glad to see it's someone asking about the apartment.

unknown number: please tell me you are still open to take roommates because I've been looking for an apartment for weeks and have had no luck. I promise I'm not weird.

You let out a small chuckle as you read the text.

you: yes it's still available. and it's okay I don't think you're weird I feel your desperation because same, I've been looking for a roommate for weeks.

You text this person a bit more, and you find out his name is Zach Maclaren and he's in the same university as yours, but you two have very different courses so you never saw each other on campus.

You both have set up to meet at a local coffee shop to get to know each other better, and you have been feeling a bit more excited than you should be. You saw his pictures and you definitely found him attractive. And if he helps you by being a perfect roommate, you might as well gain something more out of this whole situation.

You reach the coffee shop and just as you sit, Zach arrives. He comes up to you with a big smile on his face and even gives you a hug, encasing you completely in his warmth.

You definitely have trouble parting from him, seeing how perfectly your body fits within his, but you do and you both sit on the opposite seats of the table you chose.

"Are you coming from one of your soccer practices?" You ask, as you take a proper look at his outfit to find he's wearing a t shirt with shorts and some sports shoes.

"Yeah, I was worried the practice time might clash with our time to meet up, but thank god it didn't," he lets out a light laugh as you smile at him.

You decide to order all your food first, and then resume your conversations as you wait for it.

"You're telling me you love to cook?" You gasp and he laughs at your reaction.

"Yes," he says with a big grin on his face.

"That's actually so perfect, I mean, if you do move in with me, we can make a proper system of how one is mostly responsible for the cooking and the other for cleaning. It's actually going to relieve so much load off the both of us," you say, as you are served all your food.

Zach takes his coffee and takes in a big sip before speaking. "That is going to be great," he adds. "And we can do all the other stuff together, like grocery shopping or shopping for anything for around the house,"

You smile wide and nod at him, and you both start to eat the scones and croissants you got. A silence falls around you both for just a few minutes as you both eat, but it doesn't feel awkward, if anything, it feels so right. As if you're both meant to be sitting opposite to each other every single day while having your dinner.

You have clicked very quickly with him, and you're so grateful for that, because this might as well be the end of your long, tiring search of finding a roommate. All that is left is to get a approval from him, but you have a feeling he won't say no, because he seems very enthusiastic about it, just the way you are.

"So, what's the verdict? Would you love to move in with me?" You ask, your heart slightly beating faster.

"Of course I would love to! I have spent way too long trying to find a roommate and I don't think I want to continue to do that, but also you seem very nice and I think we would work perfectly together," he smiles at you. You immediately relax and let out a scream of happiness. You get up from your chair to give him another hug as you walk behind him, wrap your arms around his shoulders and gently squeeze them with happiness.

"Thank you Zach, thank you so much," you say as he laughs and gently holds onto your arms. You let go of him and sit back on your seat.

"There's one thing you need to help me with though," you say, and he looks at you expectantly, "so you see, about this month's rent..."

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You finally get the last box from Zach's car and bring it up to your apartment. You keep it on the floor right next to the others and let out a sigh of relief as you sit on your couch to rest.

Just a few minutes Zach comes up too after getting some other things from his car. Just a few days ago, you brought him to your place to allow him to look around and explore. There isn't much to explore, but you were glad when he was happy with his bedroom. But he there is one thing he isn't satisfied with: your kitchen.

"No, you just don't have all the stuff you'll need in here," he says as he walks to your kitchen with a box in his hand labelled as 'kitchen equipment' as you follow him, concerned about what he means when you don't have all the 'stuff'.

He sets the box on the kitchen island and opens it, and you peek over his shoulder to find equipment you only see in those fancy cooking videos on the internet; something you never even considered of buying.

"Whoa," you whisper, as you see him pull out atleast 10 different types of baking moulds. You pick one up and see it is in shape of a skull.

"And this comes in handy when. . ." you trail off, looking at him expectantly, but he's just ushering around your kitchen to keep all his stuff and also rearranging some of your own utilities.

"Halloween, duh," he adds, turning to you and taking the mould from your hands. He keeps it alongside his other moulds in one of your cabinets.

"Your spice drawer needs a lot of work, by the way," he comments, leaving the kitchen and getting started on organising his bedroom.

You huff at his unrequired comment and follow him to his bedroom to help him set up everything in there.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You wake up to the sunlight entering through your curtains, lighting everything around you in a golden tint. Unlike the usual silence you hear each morning when you wake up, today you hear the sounds of pots and pans from the kitchen, something sizzling away on the stove and the string of the melody being sung by the one and only, Zach.

You go into the kitchen to see him with his bare back towards you as he flips a pancake (and your eyes wander over his back muscles flexing, but that isn't what's necessary right now) and places it in a plate of already piling pancakes next to him. They are perfectly round and golden, something you can never be so perfect at even if you tried too hard.

"Oh hey good morning," Zach says with a smile as he notices you have appeared by his side.

"Hey," you say with a yawn, your eyes still threatening to close. "Did you sleep well?"

"I did, actually, for some reason I thought it may take me some time to adjust to a whole different room and bed but I was very relaxed," he tells you. He piles the last pancake on top of the others and now fully turns around to face you.

"I don't think I've ever had such a lavish breakfast on my own before," you say as you take two plates and knives and forks and follow Zach to your kitchen island.

"Well, now I'm living with you, so it's lavish breakfasts, lunches, and dinners from now on," he grins. You break into a smile as he serves you some pancakes. You thank him and just as you take the first bite, you feel like you've been transported to heaven.

"Wow," you say, your eyes wide and your voice muffled. You never knew homemade pancakes could be this delectable. Zach smiles at your reaction and eats his own pancakes, both of you completely contented as you kick start your Sunday.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

You reach Zach's room with your vacuum cleaner; as per your system, you are responsible for all sorts of cleaning around that house and Zach for the cooking. You knock at his door and here a 'come in' and pull on the latch.

He's going through one of his drawers to get a t shirt while he stands with just a towel wrapped around his waist, his hair wet as drops drip down his neck. He swallow the huge lump in your throat as you close the door behind you.

"I'm just going to vacuum in here real quick," you clear your throat as you peel your eyes off his toned chest and focus on cleaning. The humming of your vacuum cleaner fills the air around you, and Zach goes back into his washroom to wear his clothes.

"Oh would you like to hit the grocery store with me? I noticed you're out of some vegetables and other stuff," he asks as he comes out of the washroom.

You nod at his words and quickly finish up the vacuuming of his room. Soon you both leave for the grocery store.

You take a cart and push it around the store as Zach brings items to put in the cart. You spot some items you have never even thought of adding to your food before. Zach is quick to pile up the cart.

"You know you're hundred percent responsible for all the food bills of our house," you say, half joking.

"Oh yes don't worry about that," he says seriously, as he bends down to a lower shelf to get some sort of special sauce.

When the cart is pretty much filled to the brim, you both reach the self check out station. You stand at the side and Zach starts to bill in all he has bought, and just as he said, every single penny for the groceries came out so his pocket.

When Zach has put all the bought items in the bags, you go ahead to pick one but he stops you.

"Don't worry about it, I'll handle it," he says, picking both of the clearly heavy bags with ease. You try to say something, but you realise quick that there actually isn't a point to say anything; what he wants his way, is going to happen his way.

You follow him out to his car.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

It's been just over a week since Zach moved in with you, and you've got to say, you've adjusted way too quickly than you thought you would. Every plan you make, every task you set, seems to always align perfectly with his own, which allows you both to do your own things in your own perfect harmony. He even helped you with your loading bills of the month, even though it was initially decided he would start taking his financial duties from the first of the upcoming month.

Every morning you wake up to the most perfect breakfast you can dream of, and Zach gets to come back from university to a spotless home. You both usually carpool and save a lot on gas money, which has started to make an effective change to your savings.

Zach's home cooked meals are out of this planet, and you don't remember what's the last time you ordered take-out. Everytime you crave something, Zach will make it at home, and you'll be left completely surprised with how it tastes even better than the take-out.

Zach loves to try new things almost each week, and you're now his personal taste tester (as he likes to call it), or his personal guinea pig (as you like to call it, because you think he's experimenting on you).

"You can so easily sneak poison into any of your dishes and bam, no one will ever know," you joke from your position in your living room, as Zach is in the kitchen whipping up something.

You hear him laugh from the kitchen, and you shake your head with a smile as you focus back on the book you're reading.

Suddenly he comes running out of the kitchen to you, with a ladle in his hand. Before you can question him about anything, he basically shoves it in your mouth.

"How is it? Too spicy? Too salty? I think it needs just a dash of cumin but I'm not sure if it needs cumin or maybe some, I don't know, paprika? Fenugreek seeds? I just, I cannot think-"

"It's perfect," you whisper, as you feel the earthy broth go down your throat, spreading the most beautiful symphony of flavors in your mouth.

Zach stops his rant and looks at you with his eyes wide. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, yes I am!" You say excitedly, as you get up and push him towards the kitchen. "This is absolutely perfect," you look at the pot full of the broth kept on a low simmer. You take the ladle from him and scoop some more broth from the pot and move it closer to him.

He gently sips onto it and closes his eyes for a moment. "It is perfect," he whispers, taking the ladle from you. You nod with a big grin on your face as you watch him add some coriander on top to garnish and close the lid.

↶ೃ✧˚. ❃ ↷ ˊˎ-

TAGLIST: @runningfrom2am @saccharinesammie @maybankslover @totalswag @madelynie @chenslucy @ietss @elle-mp3 @viawritesstuff @wallsdreams @tahliac11 @sadfury @newsies-pape-girl @jamesbuckybarneswify @xxxlaura @thatsthewaythechrissycrumbles

(let me know if you'd like to be tagged in the future parts!)

[theanothersherlockian]

You Are In Love

Frankie Morales x Reader

I’ve been on school break, i was bored so i made this little story. It’s based on “You are in love (TV’s)” by Taylor Swift.

It was fun writing this. English is not my first language so it might not be well written.

It’s fluffy. Mutual pinning. Reader speaks Spanish at the very end but is just one sentence.

Happy Frankie Friday! ❤️

1,600-ish words

Starting a new life away from where you grew up was difficult, eating alone in your job as a waitress at first, learning the shortcuts on the road or where the potholes were, not knowing anyone to hangout on weekends or days off. But you wanted to be far away from anything that could hold onto being someone you weren't, your household not being a home since you were a teeneger and feeling that you belonged somewhere else.

It was like that at first, until one day you met Benny Miller, an energetic young man who used to visit the restaurant at the same hour every week. He would always come at five pm, order a double cheeseburger with a milkshake, and then leave.

After a month of him entering the restaurant at the same time you started chatting with him, started to know him better, knew he was an MMA fighter, had a big brother named Will (who sometimes came with Benny) and that he had two best friends that had known when he was serving in the military.

Then he started inviting you to his fights and you met his friends there. A sassy but responsible man named Santiago Garcia and a shy with brown eyes named Francisco Morales, you knew by the way they were with each other that they meant the world to Benny and to the rest of them as well, they were a family.

With that they treated you as well like you were family, you started going with them everywhere, you went to the beach that summer and spent the whole time joking around with the guys. Benny and Will helping you move furniture. You felt comfortable with the guys around, but liking the company of someone specially.

You don't know how it started. The way his eyes shine when you tell a joke; or the way you both glances at each other at a party from the other side of the room talking with just the eyes; maybe it was when you found his bald patches where it's supposed to be a beard and joked about it to him; having inside jokes and the guys teasing you about it. You don’t know how it started, you just knew you felt safer when Francisco Morales was around.

~o~

He is driving you to your house after a night out. Hopping on his old truck like always. You were resting against Frankie’s shoulder. Watching him drive was one of the best views you ever encountered, watching his eyes dance around every car, his face when he's focused on a job, the way he licks his bottom lip without noticing but at the same time he acknowledge the things you say to him or still hums to the song at the radio drumming with his fingers the steering wheel.

You were talking to him, telling him how your week was, about that flickering light in your kitchen, rambling because no matter how mundane your thoughts were, he always wanted to hear them.

Frankie stopped at a red light and saw you looking at the window now. Cheeks still resting on his jacket. Feeling how both of your body radiates this soft warm energy, nobody knows how to explain it, just want to be together. The way the red light washes your body, lingering on your chest where his dog tags laid, in a secretly “you belong with me” way. He wanted to make this scene longer, to be with you like this.

To relive this intimate moment with you all night when he can’t sleep because of his nightmares. But he won’t tell you that. He won’t tell you that when he has nightmares, the nights when his PTSD gets worse, he calms himself remembering the times you spent time together. Remembering the way your nose crunches when something disgust you. When you think no one's paying attention and you start singing a song you get stuck in your head.

When Frankie’s all by himself those nights he remembers you, you are his light.

“Look up,” he says and your shoulders brush.

You both look at each other, his soft brown eyes stared as though hypnotized by something, someone. Everything felt slower, you could feel the way your heart pulse through your ears. Your breath becomes shallower by the time passes. Gently, Frankie moves a strand of hair from your face and opens his mouth, but before he could say anything a car behind him honks. The traffic light was green.

You both glance awkwardly, not sure how to react. He coughs trying to diffuse the tension.

“We should go,” he says.

~o~

The strand of light that passed through the curtains woke you. You laid there accommodating, trying to understand where you were. It wasn't your room, you knew that by the way the furniture in the room was different, but you heard an unmistakable voice singing in the kitchen.

Frankie had carried you to his bedroom after you’ve fallen asleep on the couch.

Grabbing a shirt from his closet, you came out of his bedroom. The music becomes louder every step you take. He was giving you his back, the white shirt Frankie was wearing stretching around his broad shoulder whenever he grabbed something, those big arms had you drizzling for just how big they were. He looked good like that.

“Good morning sleepy” he said cheerfully when he noticed you, but he stopped when he fully saw you. Standing there in his house wearing his shirt as pajamas, you were breathtaking. Your heart suddenly missed a beat the moment his eyes landed on you. A soft shy smile appears on your face.

And you knew right there, this was all what you dream of. A place where you can be yourself. You created your own safe space without knowing. And be grateful for them everytime. Benny, Will, Santi and Frankie rescue you when you thought no one could ever love you the way you are. You let go of your insecurities the moment you met them in that stinky MMA ring.

The air felt warm and you couldn't pinpoint if it was always like that or just you, until Frankie smelled it.

“shit the toast!” he hissed.

After breakfast and clearing the table, and some bumps into each other while doing so, you went to Frankie’s bedroom to change. But he grabbed your hand delicately, looking at you. His eyes conveyed vulnerability that you saw only when you were with him. You step closer to him. Skin tingling where his fingers went onto your skin, slowly going to your face.

“Can I kiss you?” he whispered.

“Please” you sighed.

Franke had you feeling like you were the only one on his mind, of course he was your best friend, but you also had wanted more. So when his soft lips connected yours it felt like a weight got off your chest, he's been feeling the same for not knowing how long. You take your time, there's no place where you would rather be, slowly melting into one. His left arm hugging your back gets you closer to him, caging you against him, your own fortress against the world. His mustache tickles your upper lip. His kiss was warm, comfortable, and dizzy, just like his pouty lips look like. Your hand sliding its way into his hair, grasping it.

You both pull out, looking at each other. Grasping for hair. His head resting into yours. Both cheeks pinks with fluster. Your hand still on his hair, those brown curls getting wilder. Giggling, you still couldn't let go of each other, afraid that if you let him go it will all disappear into a weird dream.

“You have a crush on me, Morales?” you jokingly say, kissing him again softly.

~o~

“Took you long enough,” Santi said, hugging you.

“We are just dumb” you look at Frankie and smile at him.

“Yeah you are” Benny said giggling, he was the happiest one. You could wonder if he was a part of this relationship too.

After the kiss it felt easier. All this time wasting time wondering if the other felt the same, when it was obvious. He had told you the many times he almost confessed to you, he couldn't stop giggling at the thought of it. You’ve never felt this peace before, both were walking on a cloud when were around each other.

It was the first time you were with them as a couple, you didn't want to tell them right away. Sneaking into each other's houses while pretending to be just friends.

Touches lingering more than a friend would on each other's bodies when playing soccer at the beach. Escaping when Santi invited you to his house, Frankie pulled you just for himself, the others without a clue in the world about what was happening. Just couldn't get enough of each other, wanting to be with the other, to be touching, to feel him on your body, the roughness of his calloused hands on your back, your neck desiring the scratch of his beard whenever you see him.

But tonight you decided that you were just happy with each other. It felt natural like this, Frankie’s arm around your shoulder, taking your hand and playing with it, kissing him in front of the others. He wasn't afraid of showing you off. He was so proud of you.

“I just have to say that I already knew it,” Will says, sipping from his beer.

“What?” you laugh “How?”

“There’s a certain light in your eyes when you are together filled with magic, and it only radiates love” will say softly looking at you “that and, he has a photo of you in the garage and saw your new nickname on his phone”

“oh fuck off” Frankie say blushing.

“Te amo, Francisco” you say, kissing him softly.

“Y yo te amo a ti, mi amor”

'Cause you can hear in the silence. You can feel it on the way home. You can see it with the lights out. You are in love, true love.

[lys-9-10]

KageHina Fanfic: Ch 16 & 17 sneakpeek

b/c i love the idea of Kageyama being secretly good with kids :D <3 (and it kind of turning hinata on ;P)

Read on AO3

Kageyama

I walk over to Natsu and settle onto the floor beside her.   

“What have you set up here?” I ask, looking at the elaborate playmobil display she’s arranged. “Is this a farm?” 

She rolls her eyes at me. “It’s a pony ranch.” 

“Pony ranch! Got it.” 

“And over there’s my modern house.” She gestures behind her.

“Ooh. Do the people in the modern house ever come for pony rides?” 

“Aki does. She likes riding Pebbles.” Natsu holds up a plastic pony that’s covered in grey spots. “This is Pebbles. He won’t let anyone ride him except Aki. He bucks everybody else off.”

I appraise the playmobil figurine perched on Pebbles’ back. “I like Aki’s braids.” 

Natsu’s face falls. “That’s not Aki...” 

“Oh? Who is it?

“It’s her mean older sister, Yoshiko.” 

“Hmm. Why hasn’t Pebbles bucked Yoshiko off?” 

Natsu’s bottom lip protrudes in a pout. “She’s stuck. I can’t get her off.” 

“Oh no!” I adopt a horrified expression. “Let me see what I can do about that. May I?” 

I hold out an open palm to Natsu. She regards me suspiciously for a moment, but then compliantly drops the horse and rider into my hand.

After a bit of twisting and jostling, I feel the two pieces click apart. I don’t pull the rider off yet, but turn behind me towards Hinata. I attempt to give him a meaningful look, akin to one I might give in a match when I want him to be ready for an unusual play. Hinata cocks his head curiously. 

Turning back to Natsu, I flash a mischievous grin. 

“I think Pebbles has finally had enough of mean older sisters.”

Natsu’s eyes widen.

Kicking the back end of the pony upward, I yank the rider off and toss it over my head. It goes soaring through the air towards Hinata, who catches it with an exclamation of surprise. 

Natsu erupts into delighted laughter. Soon she’s clapping her hands and urging me to do it again. I smile first at her, then at Hinata. 

Hinata gapes at me for a moment, seemingly bewildered. Then, his face cracks into a wide grin.

Hinata

We exit Natsu’s room after putting her to bed. I observe how Kageyama is careful to close the door as soundlessly as possible. 

My heart is stretching forward in my chest, craning towards him. 

“You were amazing with Natsu, Kageyama. I didn’t know you could be that way.”

Kageyama turns to me, his eyes curious. “What way?”

I open my mouth to answer, then hesitate, pondering.

It’s hard to describe exactly what I saw. Over the past little while, I’d become more used to witnessing Kageyama’s stony demeanour slip away, revealing something more tender underneath. But that tenderness was often wrapped up in some kind of angst or internal struggle... I’d see a hundred-and-one emotions pouring out of his dark blue eyes, and I’d see the way he reeled under the weight of them all. I’d see him wrestle with which emotions to show me and which ones to hold back.

But as I watched Kageyama with Natsu, I saw something entirely different. I saw a carefree Kageyama. A playful Kageyama. 

The deep vertical line that so often resides between his eyebrows had been absent all evening. 

Without fully realizing what I’m doing, I reach out with one hand and lightly touch my fingers to the space where that line used to be. 

Something flickers in Kageyama’s eyes. He stiffens slightly at first, prompting me to freeze. I’m about to pull my hand away and apologize. But then, his eyelids drift shut, and his body relaxes.

A joyful warmth spreads all through my insides. I smile. Thank you, Kageyama...

I allow myself to start stroking Kageyama's face. I trail all the way down his thin, straight nose. When my fingers fall onto his lips, I stop, and settle there.

They part ever so slightly. 

Kageyama is breathing through his mouth now and I can feel the warm air on the tips of my fingers.

I haven’t kissed Kageyama since that first day, over two weeks ago. He hadn’t made a move, so neither did I. I was happy to hold his hand under the table at lunchtime, and relish other simple touches like that. 

But now, as I gaze at his softly parted lips, I ache with the desire to taste them again. 

“Can I kiss you, Kageyama?” I whisper.

His body stays relaxed. He doesn’t stiffen or open his eyes. No angst sneaks into his expression. 

He simply nods.

I crane upwards and gently press my lips to his. He seems to melt against me. He’s soft, receptive.... Nothing like the Kageyama on the court. On the court, Kageyama is hard and fierce. On the court, he abrasively steals points and victories. The Kageyama in my arms doesn’t steal. He doesn’t take. He only receives and gives, with an air of humble gratitude. I love the Kageyama on the court. I wouldn’t have ended up here if I didn’t love the Kageyama on the court.

But I love this Kageyama too. This softer Kageyama whose lips are delicately responding to mine. 

‘Please keep showing me more sides of you,’ I urge him silently as I nestle my fingers in his hair. ‘Please keep letting me in.’ 

Read more on AO3

[jurrasicworldcc]

JWCC OC Fanfic

Title: Childhood Memories

Setting: Namely in Season 2, a few days before “The Watering Hole” but after “The Art of Chill.”

Day ????: Well, we’ve officially finished making our little shelter. It’s…Judging by the Moon’s current position, it’s around 7:45 at night. Yaz finally learned to take it easy on her ankle or in Kenji’s words, “Give the macho-woman act a rest.” Meanwhile, Brooklynn says that she saw some frozen flowers but I don’t see any…she must’ve wandered off pretty far that time. I really hope someone got that beacon message. - Casey

Casey finally wrote his name in his journal entry and sighed in relief. He looked around to see that Brooklynn just changed out her swimsuit after taking a shower. Casey blushed a tiny bit but Brooklynn didn’t really seem to notice. He then heard Sammy’s laugh.

“Sammy!” Yasmina’s voice called out.

“Sorry, Yaz!” Sammy said to her friend.

“Well, it was a draft of my mom that I was practicing before the whole Indominus attack.” Yasmina smiled and brushed a loose part of her hair by her ear. “I miss her…”

“It’s alright. I bet she’s a pretty strict one.” Kenji chuckled.

Yasmina glared at him. “It may seem like that but…she’s actually really nice. We do everything together.”

Brooklynn sighed as she sat down and put her jacket back on. “I wish I had a mom to know what that’s like. I’m raised by two dads in London.”

Casey smirked. “Well, then…”

He then immediately did a English accent impression. “Ello, governor! What’s all this then? Top of the morning to ya! Double, double, toil and trouble! Mind the gap!! Beware Jack the Ripper! BLOODY HELL!!! Pip, pip. Cheerio!”

Brooklynn cringed. “Don’t ever do that again…Anyways, I grew up with two dads and pretty much learned how to fix things like the family radio and car. It was so fun when I became a vlogger at ten…”

She giggled a little. “…It did make me a jerk like what you guys saw in me back when we first got to Camp Cretaceous.”

Casey put a hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t see you as a jerk. It sounds like you had a fun childhood.”

“You’re just saying that ‘cause you’re three years old than me.” Then, an idea hit Brooklynn’s head. “How about we all tell childhood memories or secrets?”

“Seems a little personal but let’s do it.” Casey smiled. “You’re a genius, you know that?”

Brooklynn blushed and played with her hair a little. Kenji smirked and said, “Let’s get to the bottom of Kenji! I’m a rich boy with a rich dad. I pretty much grew up on Nublar similar to Casey here. It was just my dad and the staff…my mom died when I was two…”

“Oh, Kenj…I’m sorry.” Brooklynn hugged him.

“But it’s alright since my dad got me here and I met you guys.”

Darius chuckled and Casey said, “Seems you were living in the fast lane prior to getting stuck on Murder-Dino-Island.”

Yaz chuckled at the name she gave Nublar and Darius said, “Okay. Here’s my story, not like the one from weeks ago. I was born and raised in North Carolina, I have a brother. Brand…Man, he was a complete prankster. There was this time, I jump scared him and pretended to be a raptor. He got back at me for that. I did tell you about my dad back on the monorail back when Ben…”

The campers fell silent at the mention of Ben and Casey sighed while looking like he was about to cry. He did hear screams that sounded like Ben’s for a few days and Toro has been a bit agitated since the campers scarred him back at the tunnel.

Yasmina cleared her throat. “Maybe we should move on to me. I was born in Spokane, Washington. I did take eight years of diving lessons outside of my running thing. I never really knew my dad and it was just me and my mom. I do remember the day I won my first international meet. I got the gold and then a woman offered me and my mom a sponsorship for Jurassic World. I couldn’t say no! And that was when I decided to dedicate my life to sports.”

Casey smiled. “And if it weren’t for that woman, you wouldn’t be here.”

Yaz smirked and laughed. Sammy giggled and then said, “Alright, here’s my life as a youngin’. I’m obviously from Texas where I live with my mama, daddy, two sisters, Abuela, and favorite cow, Bessie. When I was around six, Mama taught me how to ride a horse and I kinda fell off and hurt my arm. I was really sad about that and Mama and Daddy healed me. They weren’t angry but they did tell me to be more careful.”

“Wow. That’s a really nice one.” Darius said.

“Thanks, Darius.” Sammy chuckled.

“Hey, Casey!” Yasmina said. “What about your childhood? OUTSIDE the genetics lab.”

“Come to think of it, you’ve been pretty silent about Sammy’s family. Also, you’ve never really told us anything about your past except that The Fifth Element is your favorite movie.” Brooklynn added.

Casey smiled kindly. “Well, that’s easy. It all started when…When…It all started…I…”

His expression turned into one with concern. “I…don’t remember…”

Sammy nearly choked and the other campers quickly turned to face Casey in shock.

“Bro, do you have amnesia or something?” Kenji asked.

“No! I remember something.” Casey answered. “When we fell off the zip lines when the Indominus Rex attacked, my life kinda flashed before my eyes. In the memory, I saw this woman, probably my mother, handing me over to what appeared to be Dr. Wu…but anything before that is a blur…”

“Oh, gosh! You don’t even remember your parents??” Sammy asked.

“N-No…” Casey stammered. He had lots of questions. “W-W-Where am I from? Who’s my mom? Who am I?! WHAT AM I?!?!?”

“You’re…adopted!” Kenji answered smugly.

With that, Casey released a loud scream that echoed through the island and probably reached the far end of the Galaxy.

[songbirdstyles]

i’m on fire

summary: harry can’t keep his hands to himself after getting home from filming.

warnings: breeding kink, spanking, smut, slight fluff, pregnancy mention, slight dom/sub

word count: 2.7k

song inspo.: i’m on fire - bruce springsteen, girls on film - duran duran, tango in the night - fleetwood mac

You’ve hardly glanced in Harry’s eyes as he walks into the foyer of your London apartment before you feel your back slam into the door behind you - your head thumps against the wood and a groan threatens to rip out of your throat but he steals it before you get the chance to make the noise, lips on yours and tongue stuck down your throat.

Your hands have nowhere else to go but to bury themselves in his hair, fingers curling around chocolate brown curls and tugging until you hear the soft hitch in his breath that indicates just how much your grasp affected him. And, God, it did affect him, clearly, as he pushes his hips further against yours until you can feel the thick bulge in his pelvis grinding against the softness of your inner thigh as you hike your leg up to hoist around his waist. He moves one arm from where he had been grasping your throat as if to steady him to the present and his free hand grasps the underside of your thigh, pulling it further up his abdomen until the stretch in your muscle makes you whine.

“Jesus fuck, Har -”

He shuts you up from whatever you were going to mutter as he deepens the kiss, teeth tugging at your bottom lip as his knee grinds into your cunt until you’re crying out, goosebumps overtaking every square inch of your skin even through the thick sweatshirt adorning your upper half. You hadn’t had much of anything valuable to say, anyway, but it’s the principle of his interruption that makes you grasp for his cheeks and pull his face from yours with a heaving gasp.

“What’s gotten into you, hmm?”

You’d almost be concerned about Harry’s state if you couldn’t feel him rutting his cock against your thigh - his face is red and hot, eyes half lidded and breaths panting and desperate with each sharp inhale of oxygen. Christ, he looks a sight in the best way possible, and your instinct is to snap your thighs shut at the feeling that rushes through your body when he leans in, pressing soft lips to the sweaty skin of your throat so it muffles his response. His hands find the hem of your sweatshirt (or his sweatshirt, really) and you have half a mind to raise your arms so he can pull his lips from your neck to tug the cloth off of your torso before he finds a vein in your throat with a newfound vigor, sliding his other hand up to grope at your bare tit like a teenage boy whose only just seen one for the first time.

“Jus’ wanna love on you, hmm - wanna love on m’girl, please -”

“Hmm -”

He grunts, then. Nips at a vein in your neck that pulsates beneath his lapping tongue and you can’t help but giggle, however childlike and naive the noise sounds, but it’s enough for him to drop your thigh from around your waist - grab your cheeks and spin you around, pushing you backwards and backwards until your feet hardly feel like they’re moving, like you’re floating through the entryway of your apartment until you reach the kitchen. Though Harry loves fucking you every which way in your bed, huge and comfortable and soft, there’s something primal about pushing you against the kitchen table and ripping down your flannel sweatpants and burying himself into your heat that you know he secretly prefers over the sacred oasis of your bedroom.

Your lower back hits the edge of the island but it doesn’t stay there long before he turns you around, pushing the front of your body against the island until your body has folded in half to bend over the slab of marble, cold against your bare tits and stomach. Your boyfriend reaches around to the front of your sweatpants, then, arms wrapped around your thighs to shakily untie the knot that you had carefully tied in the strings of your pajama pants - his chest rises and falls against your back, hips still pushing into yours over and over and you jut your ass out to meet the grind of his cock against the clothed globes of your ass.

“Tied this thing fuckin’ tight, didn’t you?”

“Didn’t think you’d try to rip them off like an animal,” you retort, lifting your hips from where they’re firmly pressed to the edge of the island once Harry has successfully untied the knot, tugging your pants down the slope of your ass until they unceremoniously drop to a puddle at your feet, and you impatiently kick them off as Harry snaps the waistband of your panties just to hear you squeal. “Come on, Har - know you’re impatient -”

“Mmm.”

His finger slide beneath your panties, knuckle dragging through your slit that’s positively dripping with your slick, and you hear his low moan at how ready you are for him but the truth is you’ve been fucking dripping since he sent you a selfie of him in his makeup chair on set two days prior, hair messy and eyebrow arched, and it hadn’t even been a serious selfie but it still made your clit throb when you saw it. He’d been gone for nearly two weeks for filming when you’d gone a full year of almost never being apart and, fuck. Seeing him like that did things to you.

Harry’s yours, god fucking dammit. The thought makes you spread your thighs more for him as he dips his finger into your waiting hole, curling them up once just to watch how your back arches, how you moan as though you’d been coded to do so. It’s a game he likes to play, testing you, seeing just how needy you are for him even if all he wants to do is bury himself inside of you and fuck you until tears streak your cheeks and you’re begging him to cum.

No - no, he does want that, you know that. Wants it so bad it makes his knees weak, makes his stomach flip and turn, but he wants to watch you fall apart more than anything. Needs to know you want this just as much as he does, if not more, and if he were truly dedicated tonight he’d finger you until you came at least twice.

Neither of you can wait for that.

“Jesus fuck,” he breathes, voice raspy and full of sex and wanting and you could nearly sob as you feel him finally start to tug them hem of his joggers and boxers over his cock. “Gonna fuckin’ ruin you.”

But - but -

“Wait.”

He pauses. The head of his cock pokes at your ass in a way that would be funny if the revelation you’d just been hit with hadn’t hit you yet but it has, and you turn your head to press your cheek against the marble.

“Wha’?”

“I got my birth control thing out yesterday, the one in my arm. Remember - I told you I have to get it replaced. M’getting it tomorrow.”

There’s a pause in the kitchen, then, that hangs heavy over the both of you as you hear Harry’s shaky breathing behind you. And then -

“Did you just get harder?”

Harry exhales and even without seeing him you can picture the smile on his face as he presses his hips further into yours - “M’sorry - s’hot, babe.”

“Me not being on birth control is hot?”

“Yes,” and as if for extra reassurance of just what he means, Harry pushes his cock between your thighs until it’s slotted in your slit, head nudging your clit and making your legs quiver and shake as the stimulation rolls over you, eyes rolling back and head feeling fuzzy. “Makes me wanna fuck you so bad.”

There’s a quick consideration, you suppose - of the possibility of getting pregnant and the fact that you know there’s probably not even a single condom in your apartment for him to quickly put on, and even if there was the moment would die - and, come on, you’ve been together for almost 4 years and you’ve talked about kids in passing. If it happens it happens - that’s been your philosophy on it with him.

If it happens, it happens.

And it wouldn’t be the worst thing. Harry loves kids and you love kids and more than that, you love each other like the world depends on it - could never picture yourself living life without him at this point, and more than that, there is something hot about imagining him fucking you completely raw.

“Fuck, Har,” you moan, feeling your clit spasm as you grasp the edge of the counter. “I don’t care. Fuck me, pl -”

The final word doesn’t make it out of your mouth before Harry’s slamming himself inside of you and there’s no slow or sweet - it’s raw and unfiltered, giving you half a moment to adjust to his size after two full weeks without his cock, and it’s huge, feels like it’s splitting you open, like you’re back to the first time he’d ever fucked you and you’d had the fleeting question of whether it would even fit. It did fit, though, over and over and over, and yet the first stroke always makes you gasp.

Or scream.

“Oh, shit!” your resounding moan is shrill and punctuated by your legs just about giving up, knees collapsing until the only thing holding you up is Harry’s cock slamming into your cunt over and over, his nails digging into your bare shoulder blade before scratching up to tug at your hair. Forms it into a loose ponytail to tug at your hair like a damn whip, forcing your lazed face off of the marble until you’re staring into the darkened kitchen before you with blurry, watering eyes and a cunt that already feels fucked sore from just a few thrusts.

“Oh - god,” and Harry’s voice shakes and leaks with arousal, breath picking up as he pistons into you, cock stroking spots inside of you that you didn’t even know existed before him, before he had fucked you slow and sweet and made you oh so aware of every sweet spot your cunt was filled with. God, he’s good at it, at a fast unforgiving pace that makes your head spin and your throat go raw with sobs, and you slam your palm against the island with a moan. “So fuckin’ tight f’me - made for me, right?”

You don’t respond, words feeling snatched from your tongue with every stroke of his dick into your pussy, milking every drop of arousal for all that it’s worth.

“This - this fuckin’ pussy - s’mine, isn’t it?” And when his seemingly rhetorical question goes unanswered there’s a sharp slap to the bottom of your ass that makes you shout, throat aching with the noise. “Whose fuckin’ pussy -”

“Yours!” It’s a near shriek that’s fucked out of you, and there’s another slap to your ass as you babble, “yours, Harry, yours - belongs to you -”

“Sure fuckin’ does,” and then he pulls out and you want to shout, to slam your head into the island because surely there’s nothing worse than the emptiness that fills you in the worst way possible, but just as you begin to whimper Harry is gripping your thigh, grasp tight enough that you’ll surely see bruises come morning, and he hikes your leg up over the edge of the island, exposing your near-abused pussy to him fully.

The tip of his cock runs along your slit, spreading your slickness around your folds and before you can plead with him to stop teasing he pushes back in, cock drawing along your velvet walls and eliciting a raspy moan that feels nearly involuntary at this point. His grasp on your hair is released and you nearly drop your head onto the island in surprise but then he’s leaning down, clothed chest pressed to your sweaty back, and his forearms snake beneath your neck until he’s nearly caging your neck in his arms, lips pressed to the back of your neck.

His hips pound against your ass, the sound of skin slapping skin nearly overpowering your choked moans and yet it doesn’t quite manage to - you’re sure your downstairs neighbors must think you’re being murdered with the volume of your sobs, or perhaps they’re used to hearing you get fucked within an inch of your life just about every night. Harry going away for filming surely must have been their own vacation from being awoken every night to yours and his pathetic moans mingled together -

But their vacation is over, goddammit.

“Harry, I’m gonna - I’m gonna cum,” you gasp, voice staccato and quiet, and his lips close around the back of your neck until you can feel him suckling at the skin, desperate to watch your skin erupt in hickeys from his work. “Please don’t - don’t stop -”

“Never gonna stop, baby,” is your boyfriend’s response, nearly cruel with how nonchalant he sounds, and his pace picks up where he’s sliding in and out of you with squelching wet sounds. “Cum for me - cum f’me and m’gonna blow it, baby, blow m’fuckin’ load into your cunt -”

You whimper, making a halfhearted attempt to reach behind you and wind your arm around Harry’s neck but you can’t muster up enough strength, feeling the orgasm building in your abdomen build and build like a rubber band about to snap. It’s a feeling that’s all too familiar when you’re with him, like you’re always one stolen smirk away from straddling him in front of everyone and having your way with him -

“M’gonna cum in you, baby,” Harry whispers, voice low and hot against your ear, words being shot directly into your eardrum and sending a chill up your spine that has nothing to do with the chilled temperature of the kitchen. “Gonna knock you up, right? S’what you want?”

“Yes - yes -”

“Y’want me to fill you with my cum, hmm? Get you fuckin’ pregnant? All round w’my fuckin’ kid, fill you ‘till you’re dripping -”

“Oh, God, Harry!”

“Cum on m’fucking cock. Wanna feel y’cum around me ‘fore I blow it, sweetie -” It’s all the encouragement you need, a moan mixed with a sob tearing out of your throat as you throw your head back, body nearly convulsing as your orgasm racks through you like a tsunami on shore - and it’s everything, like he’s set you aflame and left you to deal with the inferno, and not for the first time you think about how you’re fucking made for him, for this, cumming harder than you’ve ever cum in your life, the rubbr band snapping and sending waves of pleasure through you -

“Fuck!”

Your orgasm hasn’t even come close to ending when Harry’s hips slam firm against yours, pressed taut against your ass and you feel him, feel every curve and vein of his cock against your walls and your mind goes blank as he cums, warm spurts filling you every which way and it only makes it better when he moves one of his arms from beneath your neck, snaking his hand underneath your body so he can shakily rub three fingers against your clit, milking your orgasm for all that it’s worth. You clamp down on him, every sensation too much and yet not enough in the best way possible, and you swear you see nothing but stars.

There’s a beat of silence, filled only with your heaving breaths and his soft gasps for air mixing with each other in the thick, suddenly humid air of the kitchen. Harry’s chest is sweaty against your back even through his shirt, lips still pressing warm, wet kisses to the back of your neck just underneath your hairline.

“Fuck,” you breathe, soreness already settling in your throat as you swallow, somewhat regretting your vehement moans and cries and shouts but somehow not at all - “Should probably go shower.”

“Not yet.” “Not yet -?”

“Stay here for a few minutes,” your boyfriend murmurs against your damp, sweaty skin, tongue poking out to lick a thin stripe from your collarbone up to the side of your throat, lips pressing just underneath your ear. “Gotta make sure it works. Gotta make sure you’re not leaving this fuckin’ kitchen without m’fuckin’ kid inside you, baby.”

~~

TAGLIST 

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[phantomrose96]

Buds After the Frost

This was supposed to be a short warm-up writing exercise yesterday and then it got... longer. Enjoy!!

...

The doors opened for Maddie Fenton with a pneumatic hiss. Pressurized nitrogen released, splitting open the vacuum seal on the door as its twin halves slid apart, slotting into the wall-mounted sleeves. The nitrogen misted out, cold and dry, air currents catching in swirls around Maddie Fenton’s lab coat. Her feet thocked against hollow metal, amplified by the coldness and the vastness of the containment room beyond.

She paused short of the specimen’s cell, mindful attention drawn to the panel of controls nested rightmost against the wall. The monitor read out stats, tracked metrics of the specimen’s heartrate and blood oxygenation and blood pressure. Dials beneath the screens offered her means of interaction, manipulating the cage’s environment without needing to tamper with it by hand. She ignored these, as she had been ignoring them the entire time, and paid mind only to the single switch which would seal shut the doors behind her.

She pressed it. Another pneumatic hiss followed, locking out the world behind her. Her breath curled, cold. She and the specimen were alone.

“No coffee this morning?” he asked.

Maddie sat down at the control panel, elbow leaning against the dashboard for support. She turned to the cage. “No. One of the interns broke the pot last night. New one should be delivered today.”

Phantom let out a huff of air. “You mean in this whole gigantic mega-hyper-futuristic government lab, there’s nothing that can stand in as a coffee pot?”

“I wouldn’t stay employed long if I tried using equipment to brew coffee.”

“Use one of the big ectoplasm beakers. Ectoplasm washes out with soap and water. Just suds it up and throw it in the coffee maker. I’m an expert about these things.”

“It’s more about protocol.”

Phantom waved her off. “’Protocol.’ Bureaucracy is standing between you and a delicious cup of ectoplasmic coffee, Dr. Fenton.”

Maddie looked forward now, taking him in. He’d hovered to the front of the cell, translucent reinforced glass separating him from the rest of the lab. Green eyes shined above a cheeky smile, a dusting of loose white hairs falling over his eyes, the rest of his bangs swept slightly to the side. His tailed flickered, his aura pulsed, his vital readings blipped out steady, normal, healthy.

“Phantom?”

“Yeah?”

Maddie paused.

“Why are you still here?”

The ghost boy let out a small guffaw. He motioned his arms around him, hands waving. “I dunno. Maybe the big ghost-proof box I’m in has something to do with it?”

“The shield is down, Phantom,” Maddie answered quietly. She set her eyes to Phantom, investigating. “…I put it down last night. It’s down now. You knew this.”

Phantom took just a moment too long to react, eyebrows arching up. “Oh, huh! Nope I didn’t notice. I mean it’s not like I’m constantly throwing myself at the barrier to electrocute myself so no I just didn’t try getting past it last night so I didn’t notice.”

“Phantom,” Maddie said again, voice measured, words stern. “You saw me crank down the dial that controls the shield.”

“Well I don’t know what all those buttons and dials do.”

“Yes you do. You’ve been observing me since day 1. You knew.”

Phantom kicked back in the air, floating a fraction back and higher. “Well maybe I thought it was a trap, I dunno. Or maybe I just like to get in your head, you know? What unpredictable thing will Phantom do next! Gotta write another 200 equations about ghost theory to figure that one out, Dr. Fenton.”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

“Do you not want to leave?”

“Oh I wanna leave.”

“Then why aren’t you?”

“We’re having a conversation. That’d be rude.”

“Will you leave as soon as I exit the room?”

“Who knows?”

“Phantom.”

“Yeah?”

Maddie stood. She left her chair and the control panel behind. She walked up to the specimen cage instead. It was cubic, a skeleton of metal bar ribbings with a metal mesh that plastered the glass sides like a membrane. The top anchored to the ceiling, the bottom—raised by about a foot—anchored to a pedestal on the floor. Maddie stared through the mesh into Phantom’s eyes.

“Is there anyone who realizes you’re missing?” she asked.

Phantom chewed on the question. “Nah. Well um, trick question, actually. Probably not. Assuming I do this right, then no one has even realized I’m gone.”

“Do what ‘right’?”

“You know that thing about Clockwork I explained?”

“You said he’s the ghost that controls time and reality.”

“Yeah. SUPER powerful.”

“And you said you …were from one of those other realities.”

Phantom nodded. “Maybe I touched some things in Clockwork’s lair I wasn’t actually allowed to touch. Jury’s still out on whether I’m in trouble for that or not. I’ve been a little too ‘stuck in this reality’ to know if Clockwork is pissed. But yeah, I got um, bopped into your reality instead of mine. So technically my reality is lacking me right now, and yeah there’s people there who’d know I’m missing.”

Phantom flipped upside-down, as though laying on his back. He rested his palms beneath his head, elbows out, suspended in an invisible hammock, head tilted far back so that he still stared at Maddie. “Especially since it’s been, what, a month that I’ve been gone?”

“2 weeks.”

“What? No way. I’ve been here absolutely forever it has to have been at least a month.”

“This is day 14 of your observation, Phantom.”

Phantom blew a strand of hair out of his face. “Anyway. Two weeks is still long enough to have a search party out on my butt. But whether or not that’s happened is up to – it’s kind of a Schrodinger thing. Because here’s my strategy. Assuming Clockwork hasn’t banned me from reality-hopping forever, I can just get him to send me back to my own reality at the precise moment in time I vanished. And then bam, no one ever knows I was gone. And it makes no difference whether I do that today, or next week, or next month. So assuming you eventually let me go, then I’m all set there.”

“You say that almost like you don’t care when it happens.”

“I dunno, more like I’m just not losing sleep over it. It’s not like I have a say in the matter. You do. I don’t.”

“Is the time you spend here just meaningless, to you?”

“I wouldn’t say meaningless. I’m still aging goddammit.”

“You’re a ghost.”

“I’m complex.” Phantom flipped right-side-up again. “If I start growing facial hair, send me back. I’m gonna have some awkward questions to answer if I show up again with a ghost beard suddenly.”

“…And what if I never send you back?” Maddie asked, careful with her words. “How does your plan work if you stay here forever? If I destroy you first?”

“Um. …It doesn’t, I guess.” Phantom set a hand to his chin, thinking. “Yeah um, please don’t do that. I don’t wanna worry my whole family like that.”

“Do you really mean that?”

“What part?”

“That you have a family.”

“I mean. I think that came up in Interrogation Session #3. Consult your notes.”

“I just have a hard time believing you.”

“Because I’m a ghost?”

“Yes.”

“I’m a complex ghost.”

“I know. You keep saying that.”

“It’s true.”

Silence filtered in between them.

“…What is your family like, Phantom?”

Phantom stiffened a fraction, his eyes finding Maddie’s and shifting away. “Oh, you know, family.”

“Do they exist here too?”

“Huh?”

“You’re from another reality, at least you’re claiming you are.”

“I gotta be. The me from this reality died 6 months ago, didn’t he?”

“The you from most realities is dead, Phantom. You’re a ghost.”

“A complex ghost.”

“The you from this reality was destroyed 6 months ago.”

“Which you validated with your own sciencey equipment, right? You said so! So you know I’m not lying. Unless you think I recombobulated myself from being a protoplasmic smear on the sidewalk.” Phantom caught himself, registering the flinch in Maddie’s body. He deflated a bit, eyes averted. “S-sorry. Inconsiderate phrasing.”

“Why?” Maddie asked, tone flat, blunt.

Phantom’s eyes shifted back. “Um. Just. You know. That accident was. There were um, you know—”

“Human causalities.”

Phantom squirmed. “We don’t have to talk about that, you know? No one wants to talk about that. Okay as a ghost I guess ‘talking about how I died’ is sort of a bit more normal, but this is weird yeah, ‘talking about how an alternate-me died permanently’? That’s morbid. No one wants to talk about that.”

“Okay then. You can go back to answering my previous question.”

“Um. I forget.”

“Does your family exist in this reality?”

“Um, well who really knows, you know? I had like a grand total of 20 minutes of freedom in this reality before you captured me, so, don’t ask me like I’m any kind of expert about your reality. What’s it matter?”

“I want to know if there’s anyone in this reality who’s mourning you.”

Phantom’s face schismed with surprise. His front dropped, and the first look of genuine emotion sank into his glowing eyes. “Woah… That’s um, weirdly nice, of you, I guess. Why do you… want to know?”

Maddie said nothing.

“I. Um. I think the answer is no? So don’t um. Worry about that. If you were worried? Which is weird. I’m the enemy, aren’t I? Evil spooky ghost to be studied?”

“I’m not so sure what you are…” Maddie answered. “I heard you got destroyed trying to save them.”

“The um… the human casualties?”

“Yes.”

“I said we don’t have to talk about that.”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Do you know who they were?”

“The… casualties?”

“Yes.”

“Come on we’re on a different topic now.”

“Do you know who they were?”

“I don’t—how’m I supposed to know? I don’t know how I died here, you know? You think I’ve got some kind of like… parallel-universe death vision?”

“So you don’t know?”

“N-no.”

“I have a different question, then.”

“Okay, good, because I haven’t been liking these previous ones.”

“Are you staying just to keep me company?”

Phantom faltered. He looked left, then right, hand scratching at his chin. “I’m staying because I’m in a ghost-proof box.”

“It’s not ghost-proof anymore. The shields are down.”

“I feel like you’re circling around some accusation I’m not smart enough to follow. This feels like entrapment.”

“Then I’ll be more direct.”

“Oh no there is an accusation.”

“I think you do know how you were destroyed in this universe, Phantom.” Maddie took a step forward, and she let her left hand touch the glass, eyes focused on her fingers. “I think you know what happened at the Nasty Burger.”

“That’s—um—the human food… consumption… location… that the local human adolescents meet at, yes?”

Maddie looked up, and she locked Phantom with her stare. He squirmed, and he relented.

“I um…” he continued. “I—yeah—yeah, okay? I know about the Nasty Burger accident. It was supposed to happen to me too in my reality but I—Clockwork—stopped it from happening in my reality.” Phantom glanced left, right, as if staring beyond the confines of his cage. “When I first got knocked into this reality, I went to go find the Fenton portal so I could try to refind Clockwork and fix this and… Well it wasn’t there. And I tried to find some people I know and… I checked out the library in case the Fentons just lived somewhere else and. I um. I found the articles.” His eyes focused on hers again. “They all say you were the only survivor, yeah…?”

“I was sick, that day. It was just a cold. My husband Jack went without me.”

“I’m sorry…”

“It took my daughter and my son too.”

“I’m so sorry…”

“And it destroyed you.”

Phantom opened his mouth, but no words followed.

Maddie looked up.

“You knew this. You’ve known this ever since I captured you.” Maddie let her hand slide away from the glass. “Did you let me capture you?”

“Why would I let you capture me?”

“Because you feel sorry for me.”

Phantom’s eyes flickered about, unwilling to meet hers. “…Nah. Nah. I don’t—come on ‘sorry’? I’m a ghost you know? Bane of humanity! We’re enemies. You were just too skilled a hunter and you captured me.”

“And yet you won’t leave.”

Phantom lapsed silent.

“I um… I wasn’t happy to read about—to know the, the thing at the Nasty Burger happened here, okay? That’s something that I kinda didn’t want to believe existed in any reality anymore, but I guess… And if you were still alive. I was… maybe just kind of happy to see you? That you were okay. And still hunting. That was kind of, like a small relief.” Phantom glanced away, back again. “I wasn’t evil, you know. In my reality or this one. I care about what happened to the Fentons…”

“You let me capture you. …And you did it because you thought it would be a nice thing for you to do for me.”

“I Just—I thought maybe, um… I mean when you phrase it like that. I mean what else could cheer up renowned ghost hunter Maddie Fenton quite like a ghost subject to study? Me, especially? The ghost boy or public enemy #1 or whatever. I’m fun, aren’t I?”

Silently, Maddie pushed away from Phantom’s cage. She moved to the control panel, stiff movements and numb fingers. She entered the release code into the console, and unslung the key from her neck to twist into the override, and she threw down each successive lever in the row of four lining the top of the mechanisms.

The scrape of glass sliding away sounded behind her. All four walls of Phantom’s enclosure dropped away, metal mesh sliding away piece-meal. Phantom stared at her, blinking, floating in place.

“You’re free to go, Phantom.”

“I—uh—well hang on, I don’t think the Guys In White would be too happy about that. You can’t just let me—”

“Go, Phantom.”

“They could like, fire you.”

“I don’t care about this job.”

“I—come on, you still wanna study me, don’t you? Chat with me? If you feel bad maybe just get me a couch and some video games for my cage then I’ll be—”

“Phantom.”

“What?”

“Go home to your family.”

The half-hearted smile dropped from Phantom’s face.

“Come on. You can’t just evict me on such short notice. I’m not ready for Clockwork to kick my ass so soon.”

“Go home.”

“I’m not in any rush! I like talking to you. Don’t you—don’t you like talking to me too? In like a scientific way?”

Maddie lowered herself into the chair by the control panel. She leaned forward, arms pooled in her lap, eyes to the floor. “You have a family to get back to, Phantom.”

“It’s—there’s time travel shenanigans! Like I said they don’t even know I’m gone.”

“Every single day, Phantom,” Maddie looked up, eyes stern, “…I wish every single day that my own family would just come back home. I won’t do the same to you. I won’t do the same to your family.”

Phantom said nothing. A somber acceptance sunk into his eyes.

“They’re… alive, you know. In my dimension.”

Maddie dropped her head, and she blinked away the wetness in her eyes.

“I actually… in my dimension I’m kind of closer to the Fentons than I think the, the Phantom in this dimension was. It’s… complex.”

Maddie said nothing. Silence built between them.

“Jazz is um… Jazz is applying for colleges, y-you know. She got in early-acceptance to Yale but um, we all—they all—visited Columbia last month and I think that’s what she wants the most. I can see Jazz in New York City. I think she’d rock it.”

Maddie blinked again. Tears plicked into her lap.

“…Should I stop?”

“Jack… Tell me about Jack.”

“Oh. Yeah he um… big and goofy as ever. He’s got some kind of eight-armed-octogun he’s working on. I know because I was his target practice, involuntarily by the way. He keeps trying to merge “Fenton” and “octopus” together with mixed results. We—Mo-addie—you… are still trying to talk him out of ‘Fentoctopus’.”

Maddie’s ribcage shuddered, a repressed sob, a repressed laugh.

“And Danny?”

“Danny… um… Danny is...” Phantom’s shoulders fell a little bit. He looked away, and then back at Maddie. “He loves you. I know that.”

Maddie blinked, and blinked again, and her eyes wouldn’t clear.

“And are they happy?”

“They’re happy.”

“Am I happy…?”

“You’re…” Phantom’s tail bounced. “You’re happy, I think. I like to think so. I think you’re very happy. You have a great family.”

Maddie nodded.

“Now go.”

“But I still—”

Maddie reached forward, and she grabbed the ecto-gun propped against the control panel. She lifted it into her shoulder, and flicked the safety, and the charge built along the rising whine.

“Go.”

Phantom balked. He blinked. He kicked away from his wall-less cage. “Not forever. I’ll be back. You won’t be alone here forever.”

He was gone.

And Maddie was alone again.

…

Clockwork surveyed the boy in front of him whose head was bowed nearly to the floor, white bangs trailing along cobblestone, hands clasped, apologies repeated, begging case made.

Clockwork ran a hand along his beard, which unfurled, drew back, undid itself with the shifting of his form to a simple child.

“So let’s see. You have the audacity to break my rules andbeg me to meddle on your behalf in the time stream, all in the same breath? Apologies don’t usually come with additional requests for favors.”

“I know,” Danny’s head dipped lower. “You can punish me however you want for touching the restricted timelines but you have to help it, or let me help this one timeline. Please, please just send me back to the Nasty Burger incident so I can save it.”

“It’s already been saved.”

Danny faltered. He looked up.

“You died at the Nasty Burger incident that night,” Clockwork elaborated, form shifting older. “There is no you to ruin that future. That timeline is safe. It’s a very lucky timeline.”

Danny blinked. “N-no. No that’s not what I mean. Save it like you saved my timeline.”

“That did happen. You’re describing your own timeline.”

“I mean do it to THAT one.”

“You are misunderstanding timelines.”

Danny lapsed silent. Worry bled into his eyes, and Clockwork sighed.

“There is no undoing timelines, Danny. There is only forking them by meddling in the stream. All futures and pasts you witness exist, and do exist, and continue to exist,” Clockwork paused, “with the exception of realities I needed to cull, to prevent utter catastrophe.” His gaze fixed on Danny. “The futures that your evil self destroyed, I did have to cull. And culling a reality is not to be done lightly.”

Clockwork motioned with his staff. “There were a handful of surviving realities that I was able to save. That room you meddled in without my permission—they contain the realities off the main track where, for one reason or another, something else succeeded at destroying your future self. …Your own deaths, in fact. In every one of those realities, Danny, you are dead.”

“I don’t…” Danny shook his head. “So then just tell me how to save that one I was in, okay?”

“Oh, that’s easy.”

“How?”

“You don’t.”

Danny said nothing. Clockwork shifted young.

“You can let it live on in that room, or you could ask me to cull it, Danny. You could ask me to cull every reality in that room, so that the main branch, the one you’re from, is the only reality in existence. So you never have to worry about any existence where your family is unhappy. And it will be that way until you, or I, or someone else, meddles with the timestreams again, and more splits occur.”

Still, Danny said nothing. Clockwork continued.

“Sometimes, a mass culling of realities is healthy for the tree of time, like pruning a plant down to its stalk to survive an unforgiving winter, or a terrible disease. But I did that, just recently, to save all of time from the blight of your future self. It would feel cruel to snip off the first buds that have come after the frost.”

Danny lowered himself to the floor.

“Okay…”

“Okay?”

He nodded. “Okay. Just. I have a different question then.” He looked up, a young devastation wet in his eyes. “Can I still go back and visit that reality, sometimes?”

“No. I cannot give you permission to do that.”

“Please!”

Clockwork spun his staff. A portal swirled into being in the space between him and Danny. Washes of color formed patterns, shapes, objects, images. Like a mirror, it reflected Clockwork’s lair beyond its shimmering surface.

“This is a portal back into your own reality. It is set to the location and the time that you vanished. Go there, and leave through the Fenton portal, and nothing will be amiss.”

“No. No no I won’t. Clockwork you have to let me—”

“I am doing you a favor, Danny, getting you home after you caused more trouble. Do not make further demands of me.” Clockwork curled forward, old, sallow skin sagging, and he turned his back to Danny.

“You have to give me permission—”

“I am the only one who has permission to meddle in realities, Danny. This is an absolute.” Clockwork glanced over his shoulder. “And because this is an absolute, I have no reason to have a lock on the room housing those budding other realities.”

Danny blinked.

“I wonder if anyone might break my rules anyway. I wonder if anyone might be nosy, and enter that room anyway, and water the plants in that greenhouse without my permission.” Clockwork stared forward again.

“Clockwork…”

“Luckily I am the master of all time. I would be able to see this coming. And maybe plan for it. If ever such a person would come into my lair, and meddle in my timelines, and try to spread a bit of his own kindness to the realities he couldn’t quite save, I would be fully prepared to stop him.” Clockwork spoke into the green abyss beyond him. “Unless, maybe, I were to accidentally have my back turned.”

Silence trailed after Clockwork’s words. He kept his back to Danny, staring into the abyss of swirling green ether beyond.

“…Thank you,” Danny answered, quietly. “I’ll be back.”

“I imagine you will. Those realities may get lonely without you.”

When Clockwork glanced back over his shoulder, both Danny and the portal were gone.

[itsprashimusic]

Honey

Pairings - Bucky Barnes x powered!GN!Reader

Summary - Y/N and Bucky have been on the run for months and Y/N is getting tired of it. You just want to be able to live a simple domestic life with the love of your life. 

Warnings - mentions of Hydra and assassination missions, swear words, violence, injuries.

Word Count - 2.2k

masterlist is pinned

A/N - this is my very first fic. Don’t know how well I did but this isn’t my first time writing a story. Currently I have an ongoing original story called ‘love never dies’. I am still deciding if I wanna post that here but for now I’ll master my fic skills, hope you like it.  

ALSO, the reader has powers. The ability to absorb and release any form of energy, do stuff and make stuff with energized molecules and has a strong intuition. Oh and the reader’s powers are closely connected with air. 

It was a rainy day just like the past five. The entire week a storm had been ‘gracing’ the western coast. The storm had made it impossible to go outside, so you both were stuck in the rundown crappy motel down a deserted street. 

Staring out the window you bring your steaming mug of coffee to your lips, relishing the taste of it before gently setting it down on the table next to your chair. A cyclone. That’s what caused the storm. It was supposed to hit the piece of land right above the area where you both were currently located. 

The whole moment was so serene. You sat next to the window watching how raindrops fell on the window and trickled down, wondering which droplet would reach the bottom first, not-so-silently cheering for some. Behind you on the bed lay the love of your life, James Bucky Barnes. Back resting against the headboard with his eyes shut, head against the wall. The flowers that you were staring at a few days back were now in your possession, thanks to him noticing you quietly eyeing the bunch while having an early breakfast. It stood there in the glass looking almost lifeless compared to the money plant right next to it. 

You and Bucky have had similar lives. Both of you being people out of time, him being from the 1940s and you from the 1960s. Both of you were captured by HYDRA and made into assassins. Both having even been sent on a couple of missions together. The Silver Shadow. That was your alias. And true to it, you worked in the shadows, often being paired up with someone. While the other person would do the dirty work, you would stay hidden and clear out any witnesses or help your partner if the assassination would take too long. When you had solo missions, you would get the job done quickly and without a mess. Using the flick of your fingers to create a knife out of energy and kill the person without leaving a trace. Once Bucky had escaped HYDRA’s grasp, you were soon made their most prized possession. 

Ever since escaping the only name on his mind was yours. He and Steve were the ones who found you while you were in the middle of an assassination. It took multiple tries but eventually Bucky made you remember him. Ever since then the two of you were inseparable. 

Back to present times, and you were sitting next to the table taking another sip of coffee from your mug. You let out an audible sigh which caused Bucky to open his eyes and turn his head in your direction. 

“What’s wrong, honey?” he asked you. “Nothing.” you say still staring at the droplet-covered window. Sensing you were not telling the truth, he got up from the bed and walked over to where you were sitting. Taking the mug from your hands he set it back down on the table. Then bending down he lifted you up bridal-style and carried you to the bed, gently laying you down while sitting next to you. 

“It doesn’t sound like nothing's wrong. Now come on, spill,” he said, turning to face you, your eyes not moving from your lap. “Y/N, look at me.” You finally looked into his eyes and saw the worry in it. The once shining electric blue now had a look of concern in it which made it look a lot more dull. 

“ ’M just tired, that’s all,” you replied, a small smile settling itself on your face. He took your hand and started to gently stroke it. “How ’bout we go to sleep? Today has been a long day. Hopefully tomorrow we might be able to find a better place than this shitty motel, don’t you think?” he said with a smile that made you chuckle. God! He surely knew what to say and do to make you laugh. 

“That sounds lovely Buck,” you say. With a satisfied smile he gets up to close the curtains and switch the lights off. 

“Goodnight Buck,” you say while kissing his nose, a gesture that became something special between the two of you. 

“Goodnight honey.”

Great, just fucking great. Barely an hour ago you were sleeping now you were in the streets running with a gun in your hand and another hand tightly gripping your other one. 

It was still before sunrise. It had been a while since the storm had stopped. You don’t clearly  remember how this chase started but because of whatever happened you and Bucky were running down narrow alleyways occasionally shooting at the people following you. 

How they were able to find you, you were unaware. But they managed to track you down and make you get your ass outta that crappy motel before you even had time to brush your teeth. 

“Shit, I’m all outta bullets!” Bucky grunted from behind you. Without hesitation and turning to look you handed him yours. “Oh god! Just take it! You’re a better shot than me anyway,” you say pushing the gun in his hands. 

With a reluctant shrug he took it. “What do we do now?” Bucky asks, leaning against the wall. “In there,” you say while pointing at a building that either wasn’t completed or got destroyed somehow. After carefully making your way inside, you slid down the wall, head in your knees. 

“Do you think they’ll find us here?” he asked without looking at you. With a shuddering sigh you shake your head, “I don’t know, I don’t know.”

Finally noticing how nervous you looked he moved from where he was standing to now kneeling in front of you. “Hey, what’s wrong? You know you can talk to me right?” he said. 

Looking up at him finally made you breakdown in tears. Seeing you cry Bucky pulled you into an embrace. Cradling your head in his chest with one arm around it and the other around your back. 

“I’m just s-so tired,” you say, your voice breaking while doing so. “Hey I know that we were woken up by people hammering on our door early in the morning, but we didn’t really have a choice. It was either stay there and get caught or get up and run,” Bucky says, still holding you close. He didn’t understand what you actually meant. You were not physically tired. You were tired of the idea of constantly having to be on the run. The idea of the Avengers having to do this just because of some stupid rule book. The idea of not getting to live comfortably in a house adorned in Winter Soldier figurines and Silver Shadow knick-knacks with the love of your life. 

“No, you don’t get it. I am not drowsy,” you speak out slowly. “Then what is it, honey? Is there something I can do to help you feel better?” 

“ ’M just tired of constantly having to run, Buck. We can’t walk somewhere without worrying that someone is following us. We can’t talk anywhere without worrying that someone is listening to us. We can’t find a place and sleep at night without worrying that someone is watching us. Why do we have to do this? I just wanna be able to live a life where I get to hold you carefree. Without the worry of someone catching us and putting us behind bars. I wanna have that family that we once had. With Steve, Sam, Wanda, Natasha, Clint and everyone else. I wanna live a simple life with you, and one day have my own family with you. I get dreams of that one day but it gets overshadowed by this nightmare of a reality. I just want to be done with this.”

Bucky was speechless. He had only thought that you weren’t getting enough sleep. He’d beat himself up because of it. You had only joined Team Cap because of him, which eventually caused the both of you to be on the run. It was riskier with the both of you being together, but Bucky didn’t want to leave your side anymore. 

He didn’t know that you wanted a life with him like that. But that only made him fall in love with you more. The both of you were aware of each other's feelings, but you two never really spoke about it. The constant touches, the random hugs, the loving kisses. Sure the team couldn’t figure out if you were just friends or dating, but neither could you and Bucky. It has remained that way for a long time. Bucky and you never spoke about it but constantly craved each other's presence. 

You were getting impatient. You pulled away a bit to properly look at him. You were one of Hydra’s top assassins, as was he, but when it came time for you to try to read his face, you failed. You couldn’t tell how he felt which only made more tears spill out of your eyes. The dim light above you gave out, making the area turn to complete darkness. 

You heard him take a breath to say something. But before he could breathe a word, you heard gunshots and feet running. Instantly you got up, harshly pulling yourself away from him. Only when your warmth was no longer felt by him, did Bucky come to his senses. 

Holding his metal arm by your hand, you pulled him up. “There’s about 3 people heading our way. 2 with guns, one with a knife,” you say, your intuition kicking in. “The one with the knife is more experienced. The other two are new. I’ll take the ones with the guns, you the one with the knife. Got it?” “Got it,” Bucky replied with a thumbs up, slowly coming to the situation at hand. 

Things went sideways after that. Normally Bucky would have been able to very easily handle the guy with a knife. But today he was distracted. Your confession from a few minutes back had caught him off guard, making his mind wonder about many things. ‘When did this feeling start? How did I not notice it? She wants to have a family with me?’ thoughts like these were running through his head causing him to get hit multiple times and injured by the knife. 

You had just taken down the second guy when you had a bad feeling in your gut. You couldn’t tell what was wrong. One thing your intuition was fueled by was adrenaline, a feeling that was now fading. Not knowing what the threat could be, you just followed where you thought you had to go. 

The sight in front of you caught you off guard. Bucky was on the ground covered in blood with the guy armed with a knife standing above him. Just before the guy was able to land another strike, you used your powers to elevate him off the ground and throw him into the side of the building. Before he could react you land another blow of energy in his abdomen. Running you made your way to Bucky. 

“Bucky! Hey, hey, look at me, look at me,” you said while dropping to your knees. You tried asking him what happened but he wasn’t able to respond, just stare at you. 

Channeling your remaining energy, you used it to lift Bucky. But not before making sure the guy with a knife was more than just unconscious. 

You were able to find another abandoned building. This one was more of a building that held apartments, so you were able to quickly find one and get in. Growing tired of carrying Bucky around, you set him down on a chair. Even with the apartment being abandoned you were able to find a first-aid kit. That along with a wet cloth was brought by you to where Bucky was sitting on a chair. 

You start cleaning up the worse-looking cuts on his arm and neck, the ones you knew would take longer to heal. While you were cleaning and patching him up Bucky was just staring at you. Although you knew he wouldn’t give you a proper answer you still tried your luck.

 “What happened? Normally you don’t get injured this bad.” He just continued staring at you. “’M sorry.” He said after a while. You stop bandaging a bad cut on his arm to look at him properly. “What do you mean ‘you’re sorry’?” You ask softly. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice your discomfort. I’m sorry you got dragged into this. I’m sorry that you can’t live your life without the worry of someone hearing you talk or seeing you somewhere. You deserve so much better.”

It was now your turn to be speechless. You didn’t know what to say so you just cupped his face with your hands and made your foreheads touch. “You don’t have to apologize honey. Whatever mess we’re in, I’m in it because I got in it myself. It’s not your fault we have to run, it’s the government’s fault for looking at us as criminals just because we didn’t sign our personalized scribble on a dead tree with ink from a squid from the Pacific Ocean.” The last part made him chuckle. 

“Hey, I might be tired of the ‘being on the run’ bit, but I’m glad I get to do it with you.” with that you leaned in pressing your lips to his, the taste of coffee from the previous night still present. As you pulled away you could sense more people trying to find you. With a sigh you hold out your hand, “ready to kick some more ass?” taking your hand he replied, 

“Always.”  

[lfc21]

Ok, so I was listening to Baby I'm Jealous (yk the Rexha/Doja one, I still love it) when I had this image in my head: A hardworking, down to earth physician for LFC's women who has a crush on Hendo but doesn't think he notices her. Then at a club event some supermodel-type stays glued to him the whole night, trying to get his attention ("all it takes is a girl above me..."), but he doesn't really give her face since that's not his type. A few days later he cuts himself while warming up before the team arrives and there's no one but her to patch him up, and it slowly turns into a confession, him not realizing she didn't get the hints he drops and still thinks he doesn't see her?

Baby I'm jealous

What where you supposed to do when you couldn't get what you wanted? Did you wait? Did you watch? or did you simply give up? There are hundreds of different reasons why the world had pulled you apart from the one thing you wanted and it hurt, it hurt because you looked at him in a way no one else had ever done, you took care of him like it was life or death and you made sure you said your final goodbyes to him everyday and no one else. He was becoming your end goal but you weren't his, instead you where the girl on the side lines waiting for him to beg you for help, he didn't want you he needed you when he hit rock bottom in a match. That was all.

Being a physiotherapist at Liverpool was the most rewarding and exciting job you had ever taken especially during pre season. Pre season was a time where the boys where pushed to ever limit they had, every strength they had, and any sort of patience they had. Although it was an intensity level you hoped you never experienced it was also one of the most exciting and funny few weeks of your life year after year, but this year was different. For the past three years you have been at lfc you had an undeniable connection with jordan, he was the one who made sure you had a seat at breakfast, came into your hotel room when you couldn't sleep and he always wanted you when he felt a knock; everyone was sure you where together but you weren't infact you where completely sure that would never happen but the connection you both had seemed to show the world it could happen. This year was different, this year the one thing that fell from his mouth was anything to do with his perfect new girlfriend, so no there where no waking up to him trying to get you out of bed, or making sure you had the best pancakes at breakfast it was simply nothing. You knew this would happen one day but how can you not be jealous?

-

Pre season had started and you where all ready for the weeks ahead but in ritual fashion you had all decided to host a party before the big games. Every year you looked forward to this but this year - not so much. You wanted to stay out the way of jordan as much as possible. You knew you would have to face him one day and in all honesty he didn't see the issue, Jordan never realised you liked each other he just seemed to get along with you and protect you but you fell for that, you fell hard and there was no amount of plasters and cuddles to fix the cracks and pains he caused you to have when you came crashing down.

"Hey y/n" James shouted to you as he placed himself next to your small frame in the corner of the event room. Since you walked through the doors you wanted to leave, you anxiety was working its way through every nerve in your body.

"Hm" you rudely replied back not even realising how ignorant you where coming across. James knew, of course he did because he wasn't stupid or blind he saw the way your eyes lit up at the sight of the captain or the way you frantically help him with every issue he has.

"How are you?" James asks whilst talking a long hard sip at his drink. Your eyes where stuck on the table infront of you, not wanting to move or let your eyes see what could be infront of you.

"Fine" you bluntly replied back not taking any sort of action to move yourself from the position on the couch. You felt James's hand fall to your back and felt himself come closer to your ear not wanting the world to know what he was going to say.

"If it makes you feel any better your a worldie compared to her" James whispered in your ear with a giggle finally causing your head to turn to him and let your face tell more than a dull emotion.

"Really?" You asked with your eyebrows raised trying to work out if the vise captain was completely bullshitting to you.

"Yes really and if you don't believe me ask Amy because she was giving me a list as long as Adam telling me why I have let jordan get with her instead of you, I thought i was going to get a divorce" James admitted with a laugh at the thought of when his wife had wanted nothing more than to see you with Liverpools captain. Your lips came to a tight smile at the realisation of what you did truly want and it hurt to know you where as far away from that as you ever had been.

"It can't happen, I'm not like her, I-I don't have the perfect figure and the most amazing eyes and I certainly don't land on most magazine covers instead im a girl that can't stop obsessing over her crush and a girl who crys at Christmas adverts and dosent like anything other than chocolate so james please tell me how he could like me" you blurted out with a rush of emotions as you where trying to blink away every tear threatening to fall from your eyes.

"Y/n you name all the bad things about yourself but what you don't see is how lucky and fortunate Jordan actually would be to have you in his life. Your strong, effectionate, caring, gorgeous and have the most amazing smile so he would be crazy not to realise your perfect for him and I do actually think he would even let you do his hair which is a huge thing!" James admitted with a big smile not actually realising how nice his words truly where to hear. If you where ment to be than surely it will happen, one day, when you both need each other the most. Maybe this time with James was what you needed. You needed to wait and see this relationship he was having out and then when it's time he will see you, feel you and hear you speaking everything he has ever wanted to hear from you and then it will fit together - a puzzle.

-

"Hey James I'm at the gym early today so whenever your up please come down so I dont bore myself to death and just so you know Amy did tell you to look after me sooooo" you rambled on as you kicked your legs with every step you took through the empty gym. James was still fast asleep, and any normal person would be at half past 6 in the morning but you weren't normal and you couldn't sleep so the gym had become your best friend. You left the voicemail and dropped your phone down wanting to get started on your small workout before all the boys came down and needed you for stretches or to sort out a knock they had developed.

"Hi" you heard from the doorway in the not so quite room anymore causing you to jump at the unfamiliar noice.

"Shit! You scared the fuck out of me" you shouted as you turned around to the voice revealing a very stressed and over worked Jordan Henderson. You couldn't lie, he looked amazing - his hair was messy and his blue eyes where like magnets to yours, you would of been nothing but stupid to not fall head over heels for him in this very moment.

"Sorry I didn't mean to" jordan mumbled with a small forced laugh, he wasn't himself. He pushed himself of the wooden door frame and walked further into the cold gym with his head hung low and his eyes heavy.

"You ok?" You simply asked as your eyes followed his as he took his body past yours and pushed himself down on the hollow bench. You hadn't seen him in this way before, it was as if he had lost everything.

"Mhm" jordan said bluntly not looking up from the floor beneath him. This was you last night, you couldn't bare to look up as you feared for what you may see of the man you where falling for, maybe this was his reason to. You walked over to the large man's frame until kneeling down infront of his legs, your hand rested on his knee giving him the small ounce of affection he clearly needed, his face turned soft at your touch and his eyes made a beeline to your face infront of him.

"Don't lie" you simple replied to him with a soft smile, you knew he couldn't keep the bullshit up for long and it was true he had this uncontrollable urge to tell you every naked truth he ever had about himself or thought in any moment.

"I broke up with her, I broke a girls heart because I was to stupid to not see how much I was already in love. I led her on and I talked shite to her for weeks even though deep down I knew just how in love I was with another woman, a woman who I saw everything in l-like a best friend, a girlfriend, a wife and possibly a mother to our children... what the fuck have I done!" Jordan calmly said until bursting into an outrage he could no longer stop, he threw himself off the bench in a way of anger causing you to shift yourself on the floor. You weren't scared because you knew this was his human emotions and you accepted him and his human.

"J-jordan I don't know maybe you need to speak to the girl you love" you said with no emotion at all, it killed you to say it but it was every good part of you telling you to say the right thing instead of being the jealous one. Although you where saying the right thing your mind was in every different direction causing your advice to be as bad as a new born baby's.

"Do you not see it?" He quickly asked snapping his head towards you in a clear sign of rush.

"See what?" You asked as you became more and more confused as you ran your hands through your long hair trying to remove every ounce of stress.

"That I'm telling the girl I love everything she needs to know but she dosent get it, she thinks it's someone else" he replied back becoming much more calm in his tone, his emotions where settling at the sound of himself admitting that he was in love.

"Jesus she needs to look in a mirror and realise what she's missing out on" you joked with a laugh as you stood yourself back up infront of him.

"Go on then" jordan calmly said in nothing but a calm and tranquil mood. Your heart stopped, this wasn't happening. Your moments became a fairy tale and you didn't know what nightmare was about to end it. Your eyes looked up at his as your eyebrows fell together trying to work out the words he had just released.

"I beg for your pardon, what?" You asked not understanding his words and needing a bit more insight onto what was truly going on. Maybe he knew, maybe this was your time and this was the puzzle your jealousy had led you into at a fine speed. It was time.

I hope this was the imagine you where looking for, I honestly had no idea where I was going with this and I'm not 100% sure on it. Please leave feedback and comments as it is greatly appreciated. Maybe this could have a part 2?!? Thank you so much for the support. My requests are still open. @prettylittletrent @cornertakenquicklyyyy @trentsko @trentshoe @trentalexanderarnold @robbo38 @robbothegoat @kostasstsimikass @chelseamount @chloereddy @hnrfc @tsimikas2l @avenirdelight @blueathens @jordanhendersunshine @mrs-henderson @thatonesexycancerian @henderson1truelover @nyctophilic0vitnir @peekapeaches @tsimikxs @tsimikostas @trentalexarnofan @leddows @moneymasnn

[typical-simplelove]

On Your Right (M. Tkachuk)

Author's Note: The longest one-shot I have ever written is for @raysofcrosby for @antoineroussel's Summer Fic Exchange; this is my first exchange, so hopefully, I did well. Thanks to Demi for organizing this! I truly had a blast working on this. I hope you enjoy this!! I used inspo from To All the Boys I've Loved Before and Bridgerton for this. Enjoy reading!

Summary: When you and Matthew both find yourself needing dates to individual events, Matthew proposes a plan where you both fake date. He suggests that he, who's been in love with you since the age of ten, and you, who is convinced Matthew hates you, date. What could possibly go wrong?

Word Count: 21.4k

Warnings: the time may not coincide with the way time works, but ignore that; hatred; friends hating each other; Matthew being an ass; fake dating; mentions of sex (nothing explicit or too NSFW, though); planes; only one bed

Sitting on the patio chair of the Tkachuk's deck was exactly how you expected to spend a Sunday afternoon in the early weeks of summer vacation. For the past ten years, it's the exact way you've always spent your Sunday afternoons in the summer. It was always the same. Your mother and Chantal would be in the kitchen with the air conditioning, and your dad and Keith would be at the grill making dinner. What they would make would change, but it would usually be somewhere between burgers and hotdogs to chicken or salmon. It was always a surprise. They'd never tell the kids not wanting any complaining. You always sat in a chair with Taryn on your left and with Matthew on your right. Across from you sat your brother and Brady next to him. Keith always sat at one head and Chantal at the other. Your dad sat in the seat next to Keith, and your mother sat next to Chantal. You would always drink lemonade, and your brother would drink iced tea. You never got to drink that at home, so you and your brother would make sure to share your cups. Sometimes, Matthew would drink a pop of his choice and share it with you. If it rained, the Tkachuks would go to your home, and the seating situation was the same around your dining room table.

Chantal and your mother would insist that you kids couldn't play inside at these Sunday afternoon dinners. Sometimes, your brother and the boys would play soccer and maybe let you and Taryn join. Oftentimes, though, you and Taryn would hang out together. Sometimes, Matthew would play with you and Taryn, and you'd all play family. You and Matthew would be married parents, and Taryn would be your daughter. If your brother and Brady chose to join, Taryn would be the aunt, and Brady and your brother would be the children. Taryn always joked that life should always end up that way -- you and Matthew married with Taryn as the aunt to your children. When she'd bring up the topic, your mother and Chantal would always give each other a knowing look as if they knew something you both didn't. Your dad wouldn't say anything, but Keith would pat his shoulder, again, as if they knew something you didn't. Brady and your brother would gag and tease Matthew. You and Matthew never said anything; you both were close friends, some would argue best friends, but it didn't matter. You knew that Matthew would be someone who would always be in your life. In your life, ages 5-10, you didn't understand the notion of marriage. All you knew was that you wanted Matthew to be in your life, and if it was marriage, then so be it.

Despite expecting to be sitting on that patio chair, you never expected you'd be watching Taryn, Brady, Matthew, and your brother playing while you sat there by yourself. It wasn't that they weren't including you, but they also weren't not not including you. They all decided to play your least favorite game, and you didn't want to, so you decided to sit and watch. There's more to it, though. The school year ended just the previous week, and you and Matthew graduated from elementary school and would be going to middle school. Somewhere within the past few weeks. Matthew went from being one of your closest friends to hating you. He just suddenly decided he didn't like you. You weren't sure why, but he just stopped being your friend. You told your mother you were sick so as not to have to come to the Tkachuk's today, but she said no. She saw right through your lie. You didn't know why Matthew didn't want to be your friend anymore, but it hurt. It hurt a lot. No longer were the days where you and Matthew would pretend to be a married couple. No more were the days where Matthew would share his pop with you. No more were the days where Matthew was your closest friend.

When Chantal called for dinner, you ran to the washroom to wash your hands and sat back in your usual spot. Despite knowing Matthew's recent emotions towards you, you hoped he'd still sit next to you. You watched as Taryn returned from washing her hands and began to apologize for not playing a game you liked. You told her it was okay, it was, and watched your brother take his seat across from you, as normal. You watched Brady put the toys away and go to the washroom to wash his hands. You watched as Keith and your father put the grilled chicken on the table, and Chantal and your mother set the sides on the table. Finally, Matthew emerged from the house, but what he did next confused you. He sat in Brady's usual seat.

"What are you doing, Matthew?" Brady asks when he sees where his brother is sitting. Matthew glares at you and shrugs.

"I just want to sit next here, today," Matthew says with anger in his voice. You weren't sure why he was suddenly so angry, but the look he had as he stared at you sent chills down your spine. That's when you knew. That's when you knew that Matthew hated you. He doesn't like you anymore, and you doubted he ever would You didn’t know it, then, but you now know that when Matthew opted to sit in a different seat and treat you with anger, he broke your heart.

Matthew Tkachuk broke your heart at the age of ten.

. . .

With Matthew out of the picture as a friend, you found yourself growing closer to your other friends. One friend, in particular, became your closest friend, Shelly. You and Shelly became the best of friends and stuck together through middle school, high school, and college. It was Shelly who convinced you that it would be a good idea to move to Calgary despite your hated family friend living there.

"Shelly, I don't think so," you tell her. "Actually, I know so."

"Come on, Ynn," Shelly eggs on. "Do it for me? I'm getting married! Please, can you bring a date? Actually, it's a must thing. I'm telling you that you have to bring a date. That's the only thing I need from you."

"So, the only thing I need to do as your maid of honor is to bring a date?"

"I mean, no? But, the wedding is in two months, and most of the stuff I've needed you to do has been done. Just this one thing, okay? I think you'll enjoy it much better if you have someone to hang out with. Who knows, maybe you’ll fall in love with him and marry him, and I can be your maid of honor."

"Fine," you grumble. "But, only because I love you."

You hang up the phone and groan. How were you supposed to find a date? You had a few work friends in Calgary, but you found it difficult to find a date. The one thing that annoyed you the most was that you had two months to find someone you liked and trusted enough to bring to St. Louis for a wedding. What were you going to do?

Now, a month later, you were standing outside one certain door you never thought you would with a plate of cookies, their favorite cookies, and angry that this was your last resort. You knock on the door of the apartment and await the smirk and comment you were bound to get.

"Well, well, well, if it isn't my biggest admirer, Yn Yln," Matthew says with his signature smirk. Yup, you guessed it.

"Matthew," you grumble and walk into his apartment as he welcomes you inside. "Here are some cookies."

Matthew takes the plate from you, opens it up, and bites into a cookie. "Thank you," he says with a mouthful of cookies. You grimace at the sight and remind yourself about the task at hand. "You know, when you called me, I forgot you were in Calgary. Why haven't you ever called me before to hang out?"

"You're serious?"

"Very."

"Maybe the small fact that we've hated each other since we were like ten? Or, how about that time you spilled water down my dress at our joint eighth-grade graduation party? Or, how about that time you spilled Gatorade on my English project? Or, how about that time you told everyone we were dating when you clearly know WE WEREN'T. Or, how about that time you took my car keys and hid them at the bottom of your hockey bag in the men's locker room? Would you like me to continue? I can keep going as far as you need."

"No, no, I get the point. No need to remind me," Matthew tells you. He internally cringes at his actions growing up, but he has too much pride to apologize. "Anyways, that was when we were growing up and in high school. I haven't treated you like that in ages."

Matthew knows he shouldn't have said that immediately when he sees the glare you give him. "I have a list if you'd like for me to list it out?"

"Okay, fine, message understood. You hate me, and I hate you because of it. What do you need? You called me pretty frantically."

You narrow your eyes at Matthew. "Firstly, I did not call you frantically. I called you asking if I could ask for a favor. Secondly, I only hate you because you hate me. Third, I need your help with something."

"Okay, firstly, yes you did. Second, maybe that's right. Third, just tell me."

"Can you set me up with a teammate or a friend of yours for me to take to Shelly's wedding?" you blurt out in one breath.

"What?" Matthew laughs breathlessly, not sure if he heard you right.

"I need a date for Shelly's wedding, and I need you to set me up with someone you trust, please."

"You don't have a boyfriend?"

"No," you grumble out, and Matthew laughs at you. "It's not like you have a girlfriend or anything."

"Wow, look at you. Firing shots, huh?"

"Matthew, can you or can you not set me up with someone you know and trust?"

"Sure, I'll see who I can find."

"Great, thank you," you say and make your way to leave.

"Where are you going?" Matthew asks, furrowing his eyebrows.

"Home?"

"You just came here to ask me that and leave?"

"It's not like we're friends or anything," you say blatantly. Matthew is shocked by your words and takes a visible step back. He isn't sure why your words shocked him so much because he knows you're both not friends. He knows for a fact you're both not friends but hearing you actually say it after all these years is shocking to him.

"Right, not friends. You can leave then. You can take your cookies back."

"No, no, I made them for you. I know they're your favorite. Thanks, again, Matthew."

"Sure, sure," he says as you walk out the door. He locks the door behind you and is instantly confused why he hates that you're both not friends. He knows you’re not friends. Both his and your actions over the past years have proven it, but he thought — he actually doesn't know what he thought. As the season came to an end, Matthew had another task at hand — finding someone for you to take as a date even though he knows no one he knows is good enough for you.

. . .

Matthew was sitting at the bar with his teammates sizing them all up wondering which one would be good enough for you to have as a date. There was Noah; Matthew guesses he could be okay with you with him, but Matthew knows you could do better. There was Jacob, and Matthew knew he'd treat you well. Maybe he should ask Jacob if he'd join you as a date.

"Matthew, why do you keep staring at us?" Noah asks.

"I have someone I know who needs help finding a date for a wedding this summer," Matthew explains. "This person I know asked if I could set them up with someone I know and trust."

"Do you need a guy? If so, then go with Jacob. He'll treat your friend, right," Elias says.

"Yn's not my friend," Matthew is quick to say.

"Is she someone you’re more than friends with?" Noah asks with a smirk on his face.

"No, absolutely not," Matthew says as he vehemently shakes his head. "No, we've hated each other since we were like ten."

"Why are you helping her, then?"

Matthew just stares at Noah. Why was he helping you? You both weren’t friends, as you made abundantly clear the other day. Matthew didn’t know why he was helping you. You were a long-time family friend and by far one of the most amazing people he’s ever met. But, that didn’t answer the question as to why he was helping you. You were someone amazing, yet Matthew still can’t seem to pinpoint why he was helping you. Matthew knows that if he doesn’t help you Chantal would have his head. Maybe, just maybe, it was the small, no large, crush he’s harbored for you since you were both ten. Maybe, just maybe, he truly, deep down cared about who you dated if it couldn’t be him. “I’m not sure,” Matthew deflects knowing fully why he was helping you.

“Maybe you should strike her a deal,” Mark mentions. “You find her a date for the wedding, and she finds you a date for the End-of-Year Charity Gala.”

Matthew perks his head up towards his captain. He forgot about the Gala.

“Oh no, Matthew has a smirk on his face. What’s your idea?” Noah says suspiciously.

“Nothing,” Matthew says, not losing his smirk. He has one splendid idea that he is sure to solve both your dating issues.

. . .

Matthew: I have a date for you. He’ll come over tomorrow at 5 pm with flowers, okay?

Yn: Okay, sounds good! I can’t wait to meet him.

Matthew: You’ll love him.

Matthew knows you won’t. Based on what his plan was, he knew you wouldn’t like it. He only hoped you wouldn’t slap him across the face.

. . .

The day after Matthew texted you and said when your date would show up, you were nervous. Incredibly nervous. You hoped that, for once, Matthew wouldn’t be an ass and set you up with someone nice. You were pacing around your kitchen and 4:58 pm when the doorbell rang. You stood up straight and took a deep breath. You could do this. You weren’t going to actually date the guy; you were just going to ask him to accompany you to a wedding back home and that was it. You walked over to the door and took a deep breath before opening the door.

“Matthew?” you ask in disbelief as you lock eyes with Matthew’s striking blue eyes. You give him a once-over and notice he’s wearing a white shirt, a tight shirt that fits him way too well, and black dress pants. What was with the fancy wear? You meet his eyes again, and you’re met with his eyes full of love, happiness, and worry as they stare deep into your eyes. You’ve yet to ever see this mix of emotion in Matthew’s eyes when he looks at you, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You and Matthew continue staring deeply into each other’s eyes, both not wanting to break the trance you’ve found yourself in.

“Hey, Yn,” Matthew finally says, realizing who he was looking at. He hands you the bouquet of your favorite flowers. “These are for you.”

“Oh, um, come in,” you say and usher him inside. You hate him, Yn. Stop with these emotions, you keep telling yourself. Why did he suddenly have this effect on you? Matthew walks into your apartment, takes his shoes off, and sits on a chair at your counter. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m your date,” Matthew says nervously, but you still see the love lining his eyes as you speak. You haven’t seen that look directed to you in a while.

“No, absolutely not. We hate each other, remember? Why would I suddenly bring you as a date?”

“Look, before you go crazy, just listen to what I have to say, okay?” Matthew asks softly. You nod and turn away to put the flowers in a vase. You make sure your back is to Matthew because you don’t want him to see how flustered you are by his soft tone towards you.

After placing the flowers in a vase and placing it on the coffee table, you say, “Okay, Matthew, what do you have to say?”

“You know how at the end of the season, the Flames have an End-of-Year Charity Gala?” you shake your head no, and Matthew chuckles softly, and your faith grows warm. “Well, we have one, and I need to bring a date.”

“Okay?”

“So, what if we pretend to date? Like, you come with me to the gala, and I go with you to Shelly’s wedding,” Matthew proposes nervously.

“Why would you want that, Matthew? You hate me.”

“I don’t — I couldn’t ha— you know what? It doesn’t matter. Look, you need a date, and I need a date, so why don’t we just go together and solve both our problems?”

“Matthew, I don’t know.”

“Yn, come on. What’s stopping you?”

“You hate me, Matthew,” you tell him softly, not meeting Matthew’s eyes.

Matthew sighs. He could never hate you. He never really hated you; he just had to pretend to hate you because of how he felt. When Matthew was ten, he realized that he had a crush on you. He realized he like liked you, and he didn’t know what to do about it, so he just ignored you and was mean to you. Unfortunately, over the years, Matthew couldn’t let go of those feelings, and he fell more and more for you as he watched you grow into the beautiful person you are now. Seeing you walk into this apartment with the cookies the other day, Matthew realized that he was still hopelessly in love with you. At first, Matthew thought that he could find a date for you. He could find someone who was perfect for you because everyone knows that he could never be it for you, but, as he began going through his list of friends, he realized that even they weren’t good enough for you. Matthew knew you’d never feel the same way about him, but if Matthew can have you as a fake girlfriend, then that’s what he’ll have, then. “We both don’t want to find a date for our events, so why don’t we just pretend to date, then?”

You look at Matthew and see the sincerity in his eyes. You see the longing and want for you to say yes. You’ve always loved looking into Matthew’s eyes and seeing the emotion in them. You’ve never seen this kind of emotion directed towards you. You see the longing and sadness and wishing for you to say yes; however, you also see love? You couldn’t possibly be seeing that in his eyes. Could you? “Okay,” you whisper, suddenly being overwhelmed with what you saw laced in Matthew’s eyes and facial expressions.

“Okay?” Matthew asks, confirming because he was in disbelief.

“Yeah, okay. We can fake date.”

Matthew rushes over to you and wraps you in a giant hug. “Thank you,” he whispers as he holds you tightly.

“Of course, Matthew. You had a good idea that helped us both.”

Matthew leaves shortly after with a fake girlfriend and a wide smile on his face. He only hoped that he wouldn’t fall harder for you now that he’s finally somehow got you.

. . .

Matthew came over two weeks later, one day before the Flames’ last game, to sort out the terms of your and Matthew’s fake dating ruse. You weren’t sure why you agreed to this. No one back home would believe that you and Matthew were dating. You both have hated each other for as long as you can remember. Everyone would be shocked that you and Matthew can possibly stand to be in the same room together. The fact that you moved to the same city was also a giant shock to everyone. Not a single person would believe it, but why did your heart suddenly race when you thought of you and Matthew fake dating? Why did your pulse quicken at the thought of being on Matthew’s arm at the Gala? Why did you enjoy the cheeky messages Matthew has been sending you and telling you that he was trying to “fill the role perfectly”? Why did your heart hurt when you realized it was all fake?

“I brought some takeout, is that good?” Matthew asks as he steps into your apartment. In his hands, he has a bag of food from your favorite restaurant in Calgary and another bouquet. You take the bag of food and the flowers from his hand, and Matthew goes into your cupboards to find some plates. The domesticity of the situation made your heart lurch through your chest, but you still weren’t sure why.

“That’s perfect, thanks, Matthew,” you tell him with a smile as Matthew sets the plates down on the counter. You place the flowers in another vase and put them next to the flowers Matthew brought previously that were probably ready to be tossed. “You don’t have to buy me flowers every time you come by.”

“Firstly, it’s been like two times, and secondly, let me treat you, okay? I am your boyfriend, after all, so I might as treat you as you deserve to be treated,” Matthew tells you as if he was preaching fact. He talked to you as if he didn’t hate you your entire life and only just started liking you.

“Fake boyfriend,” you correct. You want to make sure that the parameters of your relationship are clearly defined.

“You tell that to Shelly? That you and I are fake dating?” Matthew asks with a smirk.

“I told her I had a date, and I was going to tell her it was you, but she told me to surprise her on her wedding day. I’m convinced she thinks I don’t have a date,” you tell Matthew and take a bite of food. You moan in delight, and Matthew grins knowing he picked the perfect meal for you. “How did you know this was my favorite?”

Matthew shrugs, but a playful smile is a dead giveaway that he has an explanation. “I guess I just know you really well.”

“That’s ridiculous, Matthew. You do not know me at all. I’ve changed since you stopped being my friend when we were ten.”

“Hey! I did not stop being your friend. You stopped being my friend,” Matthew feigns hurt even though he knows your words are right.

“Matthew, I stopped being your friend because you stopped being friends with me.”

“That’s not how I remember it,” Matthew mumbles and opting to look down at his plate instead of at you where he’d much rather be looking.

“You stopped being my friend after we graduated from elementary school. I remember that the third Sunday dinner we had that summer was the first time you stopped sitting next to me, and I knew that you were officially not my friend anymore.”

“You sure that’s what happened, Yn? Are you sure that it wasn’t you who stopped being my friend?”

“I always sat in the same middle seat, Matthew. You opted to sit in Brady’s seat instead.”

“Fine, whatever. Agree to disagree?”

“Sure, sure, even though I’m right.”

Matthew laughs at your words and shakes his head. “How we were ever friends baffles me because we are both so stubborn.”

“That we are,” you agree, and a comfortable silence fills your kitchen as you and Matthew continue to eat.

“You know,” Matthew says breaking the silence, “I do know you better than you think.”

“As do I,” you tell him not meeting his eye. You always were quite observant of Matthew despite you two not being friends anymore. There was something about him that made you want to look at him. No, it probably wasn’t because of how gorgeous he was.

“Okay, you tell me something about myself, then.”

“What do you want me to say?”

“I don’t know, Yn; you just say something.”

“But I want you to tell me what you want me to say,” you tease.

“I’m starting to think you don’t know anything about me,” Matthew gives you his signature smirk.

“I’m starting to think the same about you.”

Matthew sighs and shakes his head. “How about we talk about our situation instead?”

“Our ruse?” you tease and quirk your eyebrows.

“Sure, our ruse,” Matthew says, not sure why you had that look on your face. “What is our story? We could just say we hooked up and realized that we liked each other.”

“As much as that story is believable, I don’t think that Shelly will believe that. Why don’t we go with something else? How about: I was lonely in the city and needed someone familiar, so I called you, and the rest just fell together.”

“I don’t think they’ll believe that,” Matthew says. As much as he loves and thinks it’s a good story, he’d very much rather have a bit more romantic and loving story, so Matthew can have the fake relationship he’d always wanted with you.

“Oh, come on, Matthew, it’s perfect!” you pout, and Matthew knows he’s going to bend for you because it’s you. He always bent to your will regardless of whether or not you knew it.

“Fine, we’ll use your story. How long have we been dating?”

“Why don’t we just keep it vague to minimize any questions? Should we say a few months now? Anything longer will be suspicious, and anything shorter would be weird. The most we can say is three to three and a half months because when I talked to Shelly about two months ago, she was under the impression I wasn’t seeing anyone.”

“Okay, fair. You know,” Matthew says with a smirk, “the fact that you’re able to throw together the perfect fake-dating story makes me think that you’ve done this before.”

You burst out laughing. “You seriously think that? I thought you knew me.”

“I do know you.”

“Then you’d know I’m a hopeless romantic, and the amount of times I’ve read fake dating romance novels is unbelievable. The only thing, though, is that our story won’t end up with us dating but with us maybe being friends.”

“Right,” Matthew says, and he looks down at his plate sadly realizing you truly didn’t feel the same way.

“I’m sorry, did I say anything wrong?” you apologize. You weren’t sure why Matthew suddenly got upset, but you thought it couldn’t have possibly been your words. How could it? You and Matthew have hated each other for years. It’d be ridiculous to think that this ruse would end in an actual relationship.

“No, not at all. Don’t worry,” Matthew sends you a soft smile, and your stomach does somersaults. “What about physical stuff?”

You glare at Matthew trying to figure out exactly what he was asking for in this fake relationship. “Explain because if you’re trying to sleep with me, it’s not happening.”

“No, Yn, of course not! That’s not what I meant!” Matthew replies shocked that you’d even bring up the notion. “No, I meant like holding hands, my arms wrapped around you, kissing and stuff like that. Things that couples do, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, um, I guess we could hold hands and touch each other to keep up the facade, but only in public.”

Matthew nods. “Only in public.”

You make moves to clear the table, but Matthew stops you and clears the table for you. “Sit, I’ll take care of it.”

“Matthew —” you begin.

“Nope, my fake girlfriend doesn’t need to clear her table, so sit down.”

“Maybe you should be my fake-boyfriend forever if you’re going to be clearing my table and stuff like this.”

“I mean if you’d like,” Matthew smirks and sends you a wink. He continues cleaning up by placing the dishes in the dishwasher and placing the leftovers in a Tupperware container and inside the fridge. You’re watching him concentrate on the task at hand, and suddenly, you’re drawn to his lips. You were drawn to the way he bit his lip in concentration and licked the bottom lip now and then. You watched the way he’d stop biting his lips and realize that you want to be the one to bite his lip. You wanted to kiss Matthew.

“Hey, um, Matthew?” you begin hesitantly.

“Mmm,” he replies looking up.

“Should we, um, kiss?” your eyes don’t meet Matthew’s, and you’re intent on staring at the tiles on the floor of your kitchen instead.

“I mean, sure, when we’re out in public. It’d be weird if we didn’t, right?”

“Right,” you nod knowingly and happy that Matthew didn’t realize the true meaning of your request. You look up and notice him watching you curiously. The sparkle in his eyes makes your face warm under his gaze, and you know that he’s figured out what you were truly thinking.

“Or,” he begins with a smirk, “we could practice now, so we know what to do when we kiss in front of people.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” you whisper, barely audible.

Matthew, being the pest he is, smirks at your words and asks you to repeat them. “I couldn’t hear you, baby. I need you to repeat it.”

“I think that we should practice kissing,” you say again, slightly louder, but Matthew’s shit-eating grin tells you that you’re going to have to repeat yourself.

“Come on, baby, I need to hear you loud and clear,” he walks over to you, and you shift in your seat to face him. You stand up, so you’re level with him (as much as you can be considering his height), and Matthew puts his hands on your waist. “This okay?” he asks, and you nod, but when he raises his eyebrows, you know you have to give him audible consent.

“Yes, Matthew, and I think that you should kiss me,” you tell him loud and clear. Matthew’s grin widens, and he dips his head towards yours. You put your hands around his neck, and he pulls you closer to him.

“This okay?” he asks with concern lacing his features. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries with you.

“More than okay,” you reply and lean towards him. Matthew dips his head towards yours and places his lips softly on yours. He planned on pulling back and that being the end of the kiss, but his instincts and strong desire to kiss you stopped him. Matthew’s hands leave your waist and cup your face. He holds you forcefully but also gently. You both deepen the kiss, and your mouth separates as Matthew works his mouth against yours. Your tongue swipes against his bottom lip begging to meet his. Matthew puts his hands back on your waist and pulls you close and flush against his body. There’s no space between the two of you, not a single inch of air. You both pull away after the kiss crossed the line between what your relationship truly was. You both pull away but your heads are still close to each other. You’re looking into Matthew’s blue eyes that are laced with longing and desire. You watch Matthew’s eyes glance down to your lips as you long for his lips to be on yours again.

“We have the practice, now,” Matthew says in a deep voice, almost huskily.

“That we do,” you reply softly.

“I didn’t hurt you, right?”

“Absolutely not, Matthew. I would have slapped you if you stepped out of line,” you tell him, and Matthew’s deep chuckle sends the butterflies erupting in your stomach. You take a step back from Matthew and sit back in your chair. “Maybe if we kiss in front of people, it shouldn’t be that deep and passionate.”

“Yeah, maybe not,” Matthew tells you. He loved kissing you. Now that he’s kissed you, he doesn’t want to kiss anyone else. He wants to keep kissing you for as long as you would possibly let him. “Oh, that reminds me.”

“Mmhm?”

“I may or may not have let the cat slip out of the bag that I had a girlfriend, and now the team is expecting you to be at the last game tomorrow and our celebration.”

“Matthew!”

“I know, I know, I wasn’t supposed to. I didn’t mean to, it just slipped out!”

“How does it just slip out?”

“Some people asked if I had a date for the Gala, and I said I was bringing my girlfriend.”

“So, I have to go to the game tomorrow?”

“Please?” Matthew pouts. “I’ll owe you big time.”

“You already owe me big time,” you point out.

“Fine, just come to the game tomorrow? You don’t have to wear my jersey or anything, just come?”

“I’ll be there, and if you give me a jersey, I’ll wear it, okay? Or, I can just wear Brady’s.”

“No, never. Wait, why do you have Brady’s jersey and not mine?”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Sure, I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” Matthew asks as he walks over to the door. You walk with him and unlock the door.

“See you tomorrow, fake boyfriend,” you tell him and place a kiss on his cheek.

“Tomorrow, fake girlfriend,” Matthew says and walks out the door. When the door is closed, he places his hands on his cheek where you kissed him. He touches his lips softly remembering how you kissed him just recently. Just remembering your mouth being anywhere near his face made him melt. Matthew was digging himself into a hole he only hoped he’d be able to escape from.

. . .

You walked up to the Friends & Family box still trying to recover from Matthew kissing you barely twenty-four hours prior. You didn’t have Matthew’s jersey to wear, so you opted for a red shirt with jeans and a leather jacket. You’ve also never met anyone on the team before, so you were scared as to what they would say.

You stepped into the box and were instantly overwhelmed with what you saw. All the other wives and girlfriends and children were mingling around, and you felt out of place. One of the WAGs walked over to you, and said, “You must be Yn, Matthew’s girlfriend.”

You nodded, “Yeah, that would be me.”

“I’m Annica, Elias’s girlfriend. Don’t worry about being nervous or whatever, Matthew is crazy about you, so we’re automatically crazy about you, too! Everyone, this is Yn, Matthew’s girlfriend.”

You stood there as everyone introduced themselves, and you maybe remembered two of those names.

“Matthew left you a jersey because he knew you didn’t have one,” Lauren, Mark’s wife, tells you. She hands you the jersey, and you look at it. Were you supposed to put it on? “You can just put it on over your shirt and leave your jacket on a chair.”

You nod. You put on the jersey and look down at the number on your sleeve. You smiled. You liked the way it looked on you.

Watching the game with the other girls was interesting and exciting. You chatted with the other women and played with the children. It was exhilarating to be in the Saddledome during a game, especially the last of the season. You haven’t been to a game in Calgary despite living there. Every time the Tkachuks came to town, you always told them you couldn’t go to the game. It didn’t feel right, but now that you’ve been to a game, you wanted to keep coming to the games. The Flames ended up coming out on top to celebrate their final game, and the arena was loud and bursting with happiness. You followed behind as everyone walked to outside the locker rooms to wait for the team. You stood awkwardly, not sure what to do. You played with your jacket in your hand just as Matthew walked out. He spotted you instantly, and his heart lurched through his chest as he saw you in his jersey. His eyes widened at seeing his number on your arm, and if possible, he fell more in love with you.

“Hey,” he says as he walks over. You look up and give him a wide smile.

“Hi,” you tell him and pull your fake boyfriend into a large hug as you whisper in his ear, “you played amazing.”

Your words send shivers down Matthew’s spine, and he holds you tightly. “Thank you.”

You both pull away and notice some of Matthew’s teammates and significant others greeting each other with congratulatory kisses. Were you both supposed to kiss? “Should we kiss, Matthew?” you whisper.

“What?” he whispers back, not sure if he heard you properly.

“You heard me, should we kiss? Everyone else is.”

“Do you want me to kiss you?”

“Would it be awkward if we didn’t?”

“I’m going to kiss you, okay?” Matthew doesn’t wait for your response as he hungrily leans down and kisses you. Despite kissing you yesterday, Matthew was waiting earnestly for the day he’d get to kiss you again. It wasn’t as passionate as the night before, but somehow, it was even more intimate despite being in public. You both full away flushed with the kiss, and Matthew’s teammates holler around you both. “Oh, shut up.”

Matthew leads you to his car and holds your hand. “Did you want to come to celebrate with us?” he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I thought that was part of this,” you tell him.

“Yeah, but not everyone is going out, so if you don’t want to, we can just head to my place.”

“We can go to your place, then.”

“Okay,” Matthew says to you and opens the car door for you. He closes the door and heads towards the driver’s side. When he gets in, he asks, “How did you get here if I’m driving you home?”

“Oh, I walked because I don’t work too far from here,” you explain, and Matthew whips his heat towards you. “What?”

“You walked? Do you not have a car?” he asks as if the notion were beyond him.

“Yeah, it was like ten minutes.”

“If you didn’t have a ride or something, I would have sent someone to pick you up.”

“I walk to work, Matthew.”

“You walk? No, from now on, I will be driving you to work and wherever you need to be.”

You giggle to yourself softly. “I have a car, but I just walk to work because it’s only five minutes.”

“No, I refuse to let you walk to work.”

“Matthew,” you say gently and place your hand on his thigh. “I’m fine, I promise, okay?”

Matthew looks at the soft look in your eyes and the anger he has dissipated. “Okay, but if you ever need a ride somewhere, please just let me know, and I’ll drive you, okay?”

“Okay, but I do have a car, you know,” you tell him, and Matthew starts the car and heads towards his apartment. Why was Matthew so concerned and angry about the fact that you don’t drive to work? You ponder the thought and are so deep in trying to figure it out that you don’t realize that you’ve reached Matthew’s apartment until he tells you so.

“You okay?” Matthew asks as you’re standing in the elevator.

“Yeah, I’m fine, why?”

“Not sure, you seem kind of spaced out.”

“Oh, no, I’m okay.”

“Promise?” Matthew asks.

“Promise,” you reply with a smile.

You and Matthew walk into his apartment, and your breath is taken away by the view of Matthew’s apartment. You take your shoes off and just stand there staring. You drop your purse and bag on the floor and walk over to the window in a trance.

“Yn, you good?” Matthew asks, confused about your actions.

“It’s just so pretty, Matthew,” you say and reach for your phone in your back pocket and take a photo. Matthew can’t help but smile at your actions. Sure, the view was pretty to him, but he saw it each day, so it wasn’t as special to him. Watching you take in the view, though, gave Matthew a new insight into how pretty the view truly was. Maybe, just maybe, Matthew was staring at you, looking beautiful with the dim lighting of his living room and wearing his jersey, instead of the view, but it didn’t matter. It was beautiful, and if he was talking about you? Then, so be it!

“I’m just going to get changed real quick, okay?” Matthew asks. He didn’t want to leave you standing there alone, but he knows he won’t be comfortable in his suit. “I can stay if you want.”

You giggle to yourself. “I can take care of myself, you know.”

“Yeah, I know, but —”

“Go,” you push Matthew in the direction of his room. “I’ll be fine.” Matthew looks behind him once more to you; you give him a pointed look, and Matthew walks to his room to change.

You settle yourself on the couch and sit there staring at the TV stand. On it are sitting picture frames with photos of Matthew’s family and friends. One photo, in particular, stands out to you. You get up and walk to the photo and smile at it. You pick it up and stare at it. It was a photo of Brady, Taryn, Matthew, your brother, and you. You don’t remember the photo being taken but it was around when you were six or seven. You were sitting at the table in Tkachuk's backyard before dinner. Matthew was sitting on your right, as he should, and with Taryn on your left.

“Find anything interesting?” Matthew asks as he walks out. He walks over to you and rests an arm around your shoulder.

“I’m surprised you have a photo of me sitting here,” you tell him and look at him.

“Why?” Matthew furrows his eyebrows in confusion.

“I just, I don’t know.”

Matthew walks over to the couch and sits. You place the photo back on the stand and join him. You sit next to him on your right, and Matthew, again, rests an arm around your shoulder. “I have photos of the important people in my life.”

Matthew turns on the TV and begins flipping through Netflix. He selects one of your favorite movies, and you’re surprised he knows it, but then again, Matthew seems to know more about you than you realized.

As the movie continues, you and Matthew move closer and closer together to the point where you’re cuddled into him and your head moves in sync with Matthew’s breathing. The warmth that Matthew’s body exudes and the pattern of his breaths put you to sleep. When Matthew notices you’ve fallen asleep, he doesn’t want to wake you, so he tightens his hold on you and grabs the blanket that was sitting over the couch (he silently thanks his mom for making him put it there), and he places it on you. He softly kisses your forehead with a soft, ”goodnight, Yn.”

. . .

The next morning, after you’ve woken up, eaten breakfast that Matthew made for you, and left for the day, Matthew was on his way to the Saddledome for the exit interviews of the season. It didn’t end the way the team wanted, but they fought tooth and nail until the last game, and they should be proud of that.

As Matthew walks into the locker room, he has a soft smile on his face of pure bliss.

“So, what did you and Yn do last night?” Noah teases when he sees his teammate. “You’re never one to turn down a night out.”

“I didn’t go out because Yn didn’t want to. I think she was overwhelmed with meeting everyone, and I just wanted her to be comfortable.”

“Wow, Matthew, look at you maturing for the better,” Mark teases. He was waiting for the day that Matthew would meet a girl and act this way for her.

“Whatever,” Matthew rolls his eyes.

“Matthew’s in looooove,” someone teases and everyone else laughs in response. Matthew, again, just rolls his eyes in response. He had no other response.

Matthew only wishes that the person he was in love with was him, too.

. . .

You’re standing outside Matthew’s apartment door with your dress in your hand with a bag of the things you needed to get ready over your shoulder. You took a deep breath. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, but you were. You were about to ring the doorbell, but Matthew opened the door first.

“How did you know I was here?” you ask as you walk into his apartment.

“I mean, I had to buzz you into the building, so I was waiting for you,” Matthew says as if it were obvious.

“Oh.”

“You can shower first. I probably take less time than you to get ready, so you can shower first.”

You nod. “Okay, can I hang up my dress in your closet?”

“Yeah, of course. What color is it? I probably should have asked before, so that we could match.”

You smile. “It’s a lavender color. I doubt you own anything lavender.”

“My mom bought me a lavender dress shirt for Christmas, so, yes, I do own something lavender.”

You giggle to yourself softly and head into his bedroom to hand up your dress. You walk into his washroom and set your things there. “Thank you, Matthew.”

“No need to thank me,” he tells you. “I left you towels and stuff. Just let me know when I can shower, okay?”

You nod. You’re not sure why you’re suddenly at a loss for words. What was it with Matthew?

After you showered, Matthew told you that, if you were comfortable, you could use the washroom as he showered. You told him it was fine and began styling your hair just as Matthew was showering. You were halfway done when you heard Matthew turn off the water. You watch him from the corner of your eye as he grabs the towel from behind the shower curtain. You try to calm your breathing as you watch Matthew step out of the shower with the towel wrapped low on his hips and his broad shoulders and chest lined with water droplets. He stands next to you and begins to moisturize his face. You feel your face warm as you stand next to him.

Matthew walks out of the washroom, but he stops at the door and turns to you. “I’ll get ready in my bedroom, and you can get ready here. Just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll let you change in the bedroom.”

“Thanks, Matthew.”

“Sure,” he says and takes one step out of the washroom before stopping again. “Hey, yn?”

“Yes?” you turn to him.

“Your hair looks really pretty.”

“I haven’t finished, yet,” you point out.

“Fine, but I know for a fact that you’re going to look so incredibly beautiful.”

. . .

You put on your shoes and look at yourself once more in the mirror. You observe the way you look and take a deep breath. You take your steps out of the bedroom, and Matthew stands when he hears the clack of your heels. Matthew takes a deep breath, getting ready to see how beautiful you will undoubtedly look.

“Hey,” you say and stand in front of Matthew. You smile, and your breath stops when you see Matthew. He’s wearing a lavender shirt that matches your dress with a black tie, jacket, and pants. His clothes fit him perfectly, and it displays his body just the way clothes should.

“Hey,” he replies, and his breath stops, too. You were beautiful. The lavender gown hung on your body perfectly, and it accentuated each and every curve of your body perfectly. The color brought out your eyes, and they shone in the light. The dim light of Matthew’s apartment reflected off the design and details of your dress that Matthew knew he was going to be speechless when the light of the ballroom truly lit you up. “You’re beautiful, Yn. Gorgeous, yn!”

“Thank you,” you say bashfully and walk over to your fake boyfriend. You place your hands on his chest and straighten his tie. “You look amazing, too, Matthew.”

Matthew’s breath is shallow as you run your hands on his chest. His heart is beating through his chest, and he knows that he’s going to have to use all his energy and brainpower not to stare at you the entire night. You stop and rest your hands on his chest. “Ready to go?” you ask.

Matthew audibly swallows at your touch. “Yeah,” he says in a low voice. He takes your hand and leads you towards the door. “Did you want to put your stuff in your car and drive home, or do you want to just stay the night and drive home in the morning?”

“Can I stay the night?”

“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Matthew won’t admit it, but he wanted you to stay the night.

As Matthew drives to the location of the Gala, he continues taking peeks at you. He isn’t sure what he’s done to get someone as beautiful as you as his date, but he’s thanking any and every higher being for blessing him with you.

Throughout the entire night, Matthew has to force himself to leave you for moments every now and then to do his job. It was difficult. He wanted to be right by your side and show the world how lucky he got to be right next to you. You were the star, and Matthew was one of your many admirers. When Matthew wasn’t talking to donors and was right next to you, he found it difficult to speak. When you’d ask a question or make a comment, Matthew would take a few seconds to reply because of you. Your laughter, your smile, and your perfume were intoxicating, and Matthew wasn’t sure how he would make it through the rest of the night.

Annica wanted to grab another drink from the bar, so you went with her. Matthew, reluctantly, removed his hand from the small of your back and watched you lovingly as you went off with Annica. When he lost sight of you, Matthew finally turned his attention back to the group at the table.

“Yeah, you’re definitely not whipped for her and in love with her,” Elias says.

“Matthew not in love, who?” Noah jokes.

“Oh, shut up,” Matthew says. It didn’t matter if he was in love with you because you weren’t in love with him.

“Look, the minute Yn comes back, Matthew is going to put a hand on her, either on her shoulder or on her back, smile down at her, and pull her close to him. I guarantee it,” Jacob says. He was watching the two of you interact the entire night, and he knows that this will happen as it happened every time you and Matthew got separated.

“I see your point, and I raise you with this: he’s going to lean down and kiss Yn on the forehead,” Johnny adds.

“I see both your points, and I raise you with this: Matthew’s going to look at Yn, and she’s going to look at him, and they will both smile widely at each other,” Elias points out.

“Are you guys betting again?” Mark asks as he settles himself at the table as he’s making his rounds.

“Kind of. We’re trying to figure out how Yn and Matthew are going to act when she returns,” Noah explains.

“Oh, drop the subject,” Matthew says, annoyed.

“I’m not sure what has been said, but I guess that Matthew will be so enthralled by his date that everything in the world will fade away,” Mark says, “because that’s what a person in love does.”

“Look, I’m not in love with Yn, okay? Can we just drop the subject before Yn and Annica return?” Matthew replies exasperatedly.

Everyone agrees, but they all know that they will be monitoring your and Matthew’s actions when you return. Just a few moments later, you and Annica are returning to the table with a refill of drinks. You settle in next to Matthew and place a glass of wine down for you and a glass of beer for him.

“You were empty, so I got you a refill,” you tell him.

“Thank you,” he says to you and places a hand on the small of your back where it was before you left. You lean in further to him, and Matthew smiles down at you as you engage in conversation with Mark. Matthew places a soft kiss on your forehead, and you look up and smile at Matthew who smiles back at you. Elias mentions Matthew’s name, but Matthew is too soaked up in your presence to notice. The group is shocked. Every single one of them guessed correctly what Matthew would do when you returned.

“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Mark begins, “I’m going to go ask the Mrs. for a dance.”

Elias and Annica leave, too, and head to the dance floor. You stand there awkwardly wondering if you and Matthew should dance. Matthew leans his head towards yours and whispers, “Do you want to dance, Yn?”

You look at Matthew and nod with a smile. Matthew takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor. He takes one hand in his and the other rests on the bare skin of your upper back. You place your other hand not in Matthew’s on his shoulder and move close to him. You both sway to the music that’s playing. As you both continue to dance, Matthew’s hand draws soft patterns on your skin sending electric shocks through your body. As the song comes to an end, the bubble you and Matthew found yourself in slowly pops, and you return to reality. It didn’t matter how special dancing with each other was, you were both not truly dating. You were living a lie, and you knew it would hurt when, one day, the ruse was over. You only hoped that you could salvage your feelings and not hurt your heart too much. You weren’t sure, though, what you were trying to save your heart from.

. . .

“Ready to head home?” Matthew whispers into your ear as you’re talking with some of the WAGs. You nod and say goodbye to the ladies. Matthew wraps his suit jacket around your shoulders as he notices you’re cold and takes your hand in his. “Thank you for being my date.”

You smile. “Thank you for taking me. I had a lot of fun.”

“I had a lot of fun with the beautiful person as my date.”

“Oh, beautiful person? Who may they be?” you tease.

“They’re you, of course. The most beautiful of people.”

“You flatter me, Matthew.”

“You deserve all the compliments in the world, Yn,” Matthew squeezes your hand and opens the car door for you. You smile in gratitude as he closes the door and heads to the driver's side. You smile in happiness at the evening you had. Matthew intertwines his hand with yours as he drives. With the late hour and the comfort of Matthew’s hand, you feel your eyes drift closed. You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you did.

“Yn? You have to wake up; we’re back at my apartment, now,” Matthew says softly as he strokes your face softly to wake you.

You slowly open your eyes, and your lips quirk up at the sound of Matthew’s soft voice. You nod and move to get out of the car.

“No, no, I’ll get the door for you,” Matthew interrupts. You’re too tired to argue, so you just let Matthew rush out of the car to open the door for you. Matthew leads you back to his apartment and ushers you into his bedroom. “You can sleep here, and I’ll take the guest room.”

“No, Matthew, I’ll take the guest room,” you interject.

“No, Yn. You did me the biggest favor by coming as my date tonight, so you can take my bed.”

“Matthew —” you were going to point out that you were taking him to Shelly’s wedding, but he wasn’t going to change his mind.

“Yn, just take the bed, okay? You can grab a shirt and sweatpants to wear to bed.”

You nod, and Matthew walks out of the room with clothes for himself. He closes the door quietly behind him as he heads to the guest room. His one wish was that he was sleeping in that bed with you instead of you there alone.

. . .

“Yn, come on, we have to go,” Matthew says, standing in your kitchen and waiting for you to be ready to leave.

“Just give me a moment. We’ve got quite a bit of time, still.”

“You know, you’re the one who told me I had to be here at exactly this time, Yn, so you should be ready to go.”

You walk out of your bedroom lugging your suitcase and purse. Matthew rushes over to you and takes your suitcase out of your hand. In the process, Matthew’s hand brushes over yours, and you hear your heartbeat in your ears as the heat rushes to your face. “Let me just make sure that all the windows are closed and that I unplugged everything.”

When you return and are completely ready to go, you lock the door to your apartment and head to Matthew’s car. He opens the trunk to place your suitcase in, and as usual, Matthew opens the car door for you.

“You know, you don’t have to always open the car door for me, right?” you tell him.

“Just doing what any boyfriend would,” Matthew points out. “Fake or not.”

“Right,” you say. It’s been a while since you or he pointed out the fakeness of your relationship, and you almost forgot. Almost. Matthew turns to you and opens his mouth to say something, but he isn’t sure how to put his thoughts into words. How is he supposed to ask if you’re upset that he pointed out that you were both fake dating despite that being the obvious title between you two? You reach to turn on some music to try to ease the awkwardness in the car. You put on Taylor Swift, and Matthew groans in response.

“You know the way Taryn and I were growing up; I can’t believe you’re shocked.”

“I thought you’d show me some mercy, you know as your boyfriend?”

“I show zero mercy.”

. . .

Going through checking in and security was a breeze. You got on the plane fine just, but the nerves immediately hit as the pilot announced that the doors were closing. Your leg begins to bounce up and down, and you begin to fiddle with your fingers. Matthew glances down at you and notices your nerves.

“You’ve been on a plane before, right?” he whispers.

You nod. “Just scary sometimes.”

He nods and places his hand on your thigh causing it to stop bouncing. You feel all your nerves suddenly dissipate. “I’m here, okay? Don’t worry.”

“Okay,” you whisper back. Matthew lifts the armrest between you both and scoots closer to you. He pulls you into his side, so you’re leaning against him. You rest your head on his shoulder, and Matthew takes your hand in his.

“It’s not a long flight. You’ll be okay.”

. . .

“Hey, you have to wake up,” Matthew whispers as he strokes your head softly. Your eyes flutter open. You didn’t realize you fell asleep on Matthew during the flight. “Sleep well?”

“Yeah,” you yawn.

Matthew smiles softly at you. “You slept through the flight, so that’s good.”

“Oh, we landed?”

He chuckles. “Yeah, let’s get off this plane, what do you say?”

You grab your purse from under the seat in front of you, and Matthew grabs his carry-on from the overhead bin. He packed significantly more than you because he wasn’t flying home with you. Matthew would be staying in St. Louis until he flies back to Calgary for training camp.

Matthew extends his hand for you, and you take it. He walks into the aisle first with one hand holding his bag and the other behind him holding your hand. You both exit the plane and head towards customs and baggage claims.

You take a deep breath once you’re in line for customs. You knew this day would come, but you didn’t realize the nerves that would come with it. Would you be able to survive this week with Matthew?

. . .

“You go in first and get us settled; I’ll pay for the taxi,” you tell Matthew when your taxi pulls up to the hotel.

“Nope, you go in; I pay,” Matthew counters.

“Matthew —”

“I am your boyfriend, no? Just let me do this.”

“Okay,” you relent softly and head into the hotel with your luggage in tow. You head to the check-in desk. There isn’t a line, and you get your room information and key quickly. You meet Matthew at where he’s standing and lead him towards the elevator door. You both wait for the elevator in silence and walk inside in the same silence. You lead him towards your eighth-floor room and walk inside. “I made sure to request two beds, so we don’t have to share.”

“Smart,” Matthew says. You unlock the door and walk inside. You groan when you see the layout of the room and what it contains — one bed.

“Oh,” you mumble. “Only one bed.”

“What? Oh,” Matthew says as he stands next to you.

“Let me call down and see if they have another room for us.”

Matthew nods. He was frozen solid at the thought of sleeping next to you. He watches as you walk over to the phone and call down to the front desk. You tell them your issue, and Matthew watches as you furrow your eyebrows in frustration. You end the call with a “thank you, it’s no problem” and look to Matthew.

“What’s the verdict?” Matthew asks.

“They have three wedding parties staying here and no extra room with two beds for us.”

“I can sleep on the floor,” Matthew suggests.

You shake your head. “We’re both adults. I’m sure we can sleep in the same bed without any issues arising.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Matthew breathes out. His throat is dry and the words are barely forming on his tongue. You nod towards Matthew and begin unpacking. You hang up your dresses in the closet and line your shoes against the wall.

“Make sure you hang up your suit, so it doesn’t get wrinkly,” you remind Matthew as you head to the washroom to unpack your toiletries. Matthew nods and does what you say. He isn’t sure why he’s suddenly so nervous and clammy, but he figures it’s because you are both going to be sleeping in the same bed. You both move in sync with each other as you settle into the hotel room. Once Matthew has finished, he settles on the couch and turns the TV on. You awkwardly get on the couch, and Matthew chuckles at you.

It would be a restful night, right?

. . .

After meeting with the rest of the bridal party and making sure everything was perfect for the rehearsal the next day and the wedding the day after, you head into your hotel room and see Matthew sitting on the bed.

“Hey,” you say as you get ready to shower.

“How were your preparations?” he asks.

“Not bad. I’m tired, but it’s all worth it if Shelly gets the wedding of her dreams.”

Matthew nods.

“I’m going to take a shower and then go to bed; if that’s okay?”

“That’s perfectly fine,” Matthew replies as you head to the washroom to shower. While in the shower, you did everything in your power to prolong your time there because you knew that when you finished, you’d be going to sleep. You’d be going to be sleeping in the same bed as Matthew.

Once you’ve showered and gotten ready for the night, you walk out of the washroom and see Matthew standing next to the bed.

“I pulled out the blankets and stuff when I heard the tap turn off,” Matthew bashfully tells you when you notice the bed. “I figured you’re tired and stuff, so I was trying to help.”

You smile softly at the man. “Thank you, Matthew.”

He nods at your words. “What do we do now? Should we call down for more pillows and make, like, a pillow wall?”

“Um, I don’t think we have to do that. It’s big enough where we probably won’t get in each other’s way.”

“Yeah, probably,” Matthew lies. He isn’t sure if now is the right time to mention he’s an active sleeper and moves around a lot. “You can get in first.”

“Okay,” you say and move towards the bed. You get under the covers and sigh at the comfort of the bed. You lay on your back, a position that isn’t the most comfortable for you. When you’re done, Matthew gets under the covers, and he, too, lays on his back. You don’t think it’s the most comfortable for him, either. You lean over to turn the lights off, so the entire room is cascaded in darkness. “Good night, Matthew.”

“Night, Yn.”

You both lay there in awkward silence and stare up at the ceiling. What were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to talk to each other until the other fell asleep? Was it okay to face each other as you slept? What happened if you woke up in a compromising position? Would your friendship (was this a friendship?) be awkward? What would the morning be like? How awkward would it be? Should you be thinking about the fact that Matthew wasn’t wearing a shirt next to you? No, you shouldn’t be, but here you are thinking about Matthew’s bare chest.

You took a deep breath and hoped for sleep to easily overcome you.

Thankfully, it did. You fell asleep, and when your alarm went off, you were surprised you slept through the night. It was one of the best nights of sleep of your life. The pillows and blankets exuded this comfort and warmth that cocooned you and made it easy to fall asleep. When you opened your eyes, you were shocked by the sight in front of you. You blinked your eyes to make sure you weren’t still dreaming. Nope, you definitely weren’t dreaming.

Matthew Tkachuk, your fake boyfriend and boy who has hated you since you were ten, was cuddling you into his chest. Not only that, his arms were wound tightly around your waist with your forehead comfortably on his chest. Both of your legs were intertwined with each other, and your arms were grasping his waist. No wonder you slept so well.

“Oh, good morning,” Matthew says quietly. You look up at him and notice that it looks like he’s been up for a little bit.

“How long have you been awake?” you ask.

“Wow, no good morning? I’m hurt,” Matthew pouts.

“Good morning, Matthew; how long have you been awake?”

“About half an hour?”

“And you didn’t wake me knowing we were sleeping like this?” you say annoyed and slowly pull away. Once you’re fully out of his grasp, you wish you remained in his grasp. Matthew’s body exuded this comfort and warmth that made you happy and comfortable. You wished you could return to Matthew’s hold and embrace without it seeming weird.

“You were very comfortable, it looked like, and you seemed to be sleeping peacefully, and I figured you’d be more upset if I woke you, so I didn’t. Are you upset that I didn’t wake you?”

You ponder over his last question for a moment. No, you weren’t upset that he woke you. “No, it’s okay. I just slightly overreacted.”

“No need to apologize. You reacted just fine.”

You nod. “I have to get ready for wedding stuff, but we can go down to get breakfast together.”

“Yes, whatever you say,” Matthew replies and watches you get out of bed and towards your suitcase and washroom. Matthew wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was up for hours. He got up hours before because he was warm and needed to turn the AC up higher, but when he realized the situation you were both in, Matthew refused to get up. When else would Matthew be able to hold the person he’s been in love with his entire life who doesn’t love him back?

. . .

“You have the rehearsal tonight, right?” Matthew asks from outside the washroom as you’re doing your makeup. He walks over to the dresser and begins looking at the jewelry you’ve laid across it.

“Yeah, sorry that I can’t bring you. It’s a small thing with just Shelly’s family and bridal party. That means, though, that our big fake dating debut will be tomorrow at the reception,” you say from the washroom. “What are you going to do?”

“I’m having dinner with my parents at a restaurant around the corner. I know you said that you have a ride to and from where you have to be, but if you need a ride, just call me, okay?”

You smile to yourself from the washroom where Matthew can’t see you. There was something about his concern that made you smile like crazy. “Okay, Matthew. Thank you.”

“No need to thank me,” he begins. “I am your boyfriend after all.” He mutters under his breath the word “fake” with a scowl. He hated being just your fake boyfriend.

You begin to pack your things back into your toiletries bag so as not to leave a mess, and you walk out of the washroom. “How do I look?” you ask when you’re in full view of Matthew. He immediately looks up from where he was staring at your necklace, and his jaw drops.

“Wow, you — I, wow! You’re gorgeous, Yn,” Matthew says with wonder and awe in his eyes. You take your hands and place them on the hem of your skirt and look down. Matthew walks over to you and takes one of your hands and twirls you. You giggle in response, and Matthew catches you with his hands on your waist. “You’re beautiful, Yn.”

“Thank you,” you whisper. Matthew places a soft kiss on your forehead and takes a step back to admire you.

“I get to be your date tomorrow? Aren’t I the luckiest guy on the planet?”

You giggle again and make your way to the dresser to put on the necklace sitting there. It’s a matching necklace you and Shelly both bought at the age of 18. “Can you help me put it on?”

Matthew’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he soaks you in and your request. He nods and takes the necklace gently from you. You turn around, so your back is to him, and Matthew places the necklace around your neck. He fiddles with the clasp and whispers a soft “there you go” when he’s finished. You turn around and look into his eyes.

“Thank you, Matthew,” you say nervously but hide it with a smile. You’re not sure why you’re nervous, but you suddenly are. Maybe it was the intimacy of the act Matthew just performed for you. “Have fun with your family tonight.”

“Have fun at the rehearsal! Text me when you’re on your way back, okay?”

“Okay,” you reply as you slip on your shoes and make your way towards the door. “Night, Matthew.”

You walk out the door before Matthew could respond. “Night,” he says even though it’s pointless. In his head, Matthew is replaying the vision of you walking out in your blush pink dress and how beautiful you looked. Matthew knows that whoever gets to be the one to call you their girlfriend will be the luckiest person in the world. He only wishes he were the one.

. . .

Matthew walks into the restaurant his family picked, still reeling from how beautiful you looked. It was at that moment when Matthew saw you when he realized he was truly gone. Matthew has dug himself into a hole that he knows he’s never going to get out of. Now that Matthew has experienced you as a date, in his arms in his apartment, at one of his games, kissing you, and sleeping next to you, Matthew knows that no one else will compare to you. He knows that when this ruse is over, he will be heartbroken beyond repair. Is he choosing to do something about it? Nope, not at all because to him, if he can have even a little bit of you, even if it’s under the guise of being fake, then he’ll take it.

He sits at the table his parents and siblings were already at and greets them. It’s not even two seconds after he sits before they all corner him about dating you.

“So, you and Yn, huh?” Brady smirks.

“Don’t start, please,” Matthew warns.

“I’ll start, then,” Taryn prompts. “I can’t believe you finally got Yn to date you after you’ve harbored a crush on her for all these years and hated her.”

“Can we not?” Matthew asks.

“Nope, not happening, we are going to question you about every single detail. Who knows, maybe you two will be the next ones to get married.”

“Okay, Taryn, take a step back,” Keith chuckles.

“I think you should take a step forward,” Brady prompts. “Considering how head over heels Matthew has been, Taryn’s right.”

Matthew just rolls his eyes and sighs. “Can we just order and have a normal meal, please?”

“This conversation isn’t over yet,” Taryn warns, and Matthew just rolls his eyes.

After deciding what to eat and ordering, Taryn was true to her word and began to question Matthew about his dating life. “How did it start? What was your first date like? Did Yn slap you when you first asked her out? I need details, Matthew!”

“Did you ever consider that Yn and I want privacy about our relationship?” Matthew snaps.

“Right, but this is the weirdest pairing ever, so I feel like I should get something out of you,” Taryn defends herself.

“There isn’t much to say. A few months back, Yn called me saying she needed a familiar face because she was homesick, so we met up. We realized that we liked each other and here we are.”

Chantal gives her son a curious look. That was the exact statement and explanation that you gave her when she called you a few weeks after she found out about you and Matthew. Either that was the reality of the situation or you both practiced this many times. Chantal thinks it’s probably the latter because she knows her son. She knows that if you and Matthew were for real, then he’d be telling everyone how much he liked you.

“That’s it? I thought there’d be more! Something more romantic or something,” Taryn pouts, and Matthew just shrugs. He wishes he could have made a more romantic story for how you both started dating because that’s what you deserve, but you wouldn’t have any of it.

“I agree with Taryn,” Brady adds. “Yn, as we know, is a hopeless romantic. I’m surprised you haven’t stepped up your game to match Yn’s romantic side.”

“Look, maybe we do have a romantic relationship, but we just want to keep it private,” Matthew growls.

“Alright, let’s just let the topic go,” Chantal interjects and inserts an out for Matthew. “Will you be sitting with us tomorrow?”

“During the ceremony, probably because Yn is part of the procession and all that. I’m not sure during the reception, though, because I think it’s open seating.”

“Okay, that’s understandable,” Chantal says just as their meals arrive. Matthew lets out a sigh of relief. He was able to keep the story about your ruse straight and evade any questions that could poke holes into the story. He could only wish that what was happening between you two was real.

. . .

Just as Matthew was getting interrogated by his family, your brother and Shelly were on their way to interrogate you. It was after the rehearsal, and everyone in attendance was at the restaurant catching up. Your brother walks over to you and whispers that Shelly wants to talk to you. Being the maid of honor, you figured that she needed help with last-minute wedding preparations. You weren’t expecting an ambush.

Your brother leads you to where Shelly’s sitting, and you expect him to leave. However, when he sits right next to you with Shelly across from you, you know that you’re getting interrogated.

“Don’t you have to go be with your pregnant wife?” you ask your brother pointedly hoping to get out of the conversation.

“No, she wants this information as much as I do,” he retorts.

“You and Tkachuk?” Shelly shrieks. Some of the other guests turn to the commotion but turn away when they see it’s only the bride getting excited about something. “I always knew he had the hots for you, but I wasn’t sure if he’d ever do anything about it. Wow, I’m impressed it didn’t take more time for it to happen.”

“What are you talking about?” Matthew never had the hots for you. This situation was purely platonic and aiding each other's social calendars.

“Oh, come on,” Shelly rolls her eyes. “You have to have known that Matthew was crazy in love with you in high school.”

“And that explains his treatment of me?”

“It’s what insecure guys do when they crush on someone who is way out of their league,” your brother explains. “For what it’s worth, you are way out of Matthew’s league, and the only reason that I haven’t confronted him is that I know him. But still, Matthew? Why him?”

“How did it start? Is he a good kisser? Does he make you smile like crazy? Is he the super romantic boyfriend that you’ve always wanted? Is he good in bed?” Shelby begins but is stopped by your brother making a disgusted look. He definitely didn’t want to think about you and Matthew sleeping together. “Sorry, I forgot you were here.”

“It’s alright,” he grumbles, and Shelly throws you a wink knowing that she’d ask you about this later.

“The other questions are still valid, though.”

“It started because I was homesick. I realized that I missed home and needed a familiar face, so I called Matthew. From there, we realized that there was something there between us,” you explain hoping that your brother and Shelly would accept the story.

“More like you finally realized it,” Shelly corrects. You were about to contradict her words, but wouldn’t that break the facade you and Matthew have built? “What about the rest of the stuff?”

You shrug.

“That’s it? There’s nothing else you can say about it?”

“I like keeping my relationship private,” you say softly hoping it came across as confident despite the guilt you felt lying to your brother and best friend.

“Sure, and did this happen before you and I talked about bringing a date to the wedding?” Shelly questions further. She knows that if you liked someone and were crazy about them, then you’d be talking about this person constantly. She isn’t buying the story.

“We started talking before, but we made our relationship official shortly after your call,” you lie, again. You make a mental note to tell Matthew this so that when Shelly did interrogate him, he’d have that information.

“But you insisted you didn’t have anyone to bring as a date,” Shelly points out.

“You also called me if any of my friends would want to bring you,” your brother points out smugly. You glare at him and kick him under the table.

“I wasn’t sure if bringing Matthew would be like cheating because I knew he was invited to the wedding,” you quickly retorted. Would that be enough to have them lay off you?

“Sure, sure,” Shelly begins. “Look, if your relationship is of convenience, you know, for pleasure, you can say that.”

What? “What?” you and your brother speak at the same time. She wasn’t interrogating you because she thought you and Matthew were faking. She thought you and Matthew had a friends-with-benefits relationship! Somehow, that calms your nerves and helps you relax.

“Oh, so it’s a real relationship,” Shelly says with a grin. “I was wrong?”

“Yes, it’s a real relationship,” you laugh.

“I mean, if it were a pleasure-seeking based relationship, then I’d also be okay with that because you do need to make yourself happy,” Shelly winks.

“Okay, I’m done here,” your brother immediately gets up and walks over to his wife. You and Shelly both giggle.

“Are you happy?” she asks.

You nod. “Yeah, I’m happy.”

“That’s good. I have to get back to bride duties. I know that I was shocked when you told me you were dating Tkachuk earlier and didn’t react the way you wanted me to, but I only did it because I don’t want you to get hurt. He treated you like crap when you were in high school, and I don’t want him to go back to that version of himself. You seem happy, though, so ignore me.”

Shelly kisses your forehead and finds her fiance. You knew you weren’t going to get hurt because what you were both doing was merely for show. You both weren’t actually dating, so there were no feelings to be hurt, but one thing stuck out to you. Matthew liked you in high school? You weren’t sure why that unsettled you so much, but it did. Why would he have treated you like crap if he liked you? Would you and Matthew hurt each other? What happens when you both end this ruse? You know you’ll miss the way Matthew could always put a smile on your face and bring out giggle after giggle from you. You’d miss the way his smile or hand in yours would make your heart burst and make you warm inside and out. Were you on the path to getting hurt?

. . .

As Keith and Brady are arguing about the bill, Matthew and Chantal step outside to wait for them, and Taryn is in the washroom.

“So, you and Yn?” Chantal begins.

“Mom,” Matthew groans.

“I find it funny that the story that you told tonight to us is exactly what Yn told me a few weeks ago.”

“It’s what happened, so it makes sense that Yn told you the same thing,” Matthew lies.

“Yeah, but it was the exact same story, Matthew.”

Matthew looks at his mother, and he knows that she’s read through fabrication. “We both needed dates for things, so we thought we’d pretend to date to make it easier on both of us,” Matthew mumbles.

Chantal looks at her son and sees the forlorn expression on his face. “But you like her.”

“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her, mom,” Matthew says sadly as if he finally realized the hopelessness of the situation.

“Why don’t you just tell her?”

“Because, mom, it’s like Taryn was saying earlier and why it shocks you so much. I treated Yn like crap when we were growing up, and I’m pretty sure she hates me.”

“But you love her.”

“I never hated her; I just didn’t know what to do with my feelings. I’m screwed, aren’t I?”

“I don’t know,” Chantal admits. Her heart breaks as she watches her son run his hands through his hair sadly as he admits to feelings. “I haven’t seen you both around each other, but who knows, maybe Yn does feel the same way.”

“No, I know for a fact she doesn’t. It’s okay, at least I have this,” Matthew says. Keith and Brady walk out of the restaurant at that moment with Taryn close on their heels. Keith slaps Matthew’s back and asks what Matthew was talking about. Matthew shrugs it off with a curt “nothing.” Matthew didn’t want the rest of his family to know about the reality of his dating life. He also knows that you’d rather not let that information come out.

“On Sunday, you and Yn should come over for dinner,” Chantal suggests. “Like tradition.”

“I’ll ask Yn,” Matthew answers.

“It’s not a request, Matthew,” Chantal says and walks with her husband. Well, then you and Matthew are going to dinner at the Tkachuk’s on Sunday.

. . .

The next morning after the rehearsal, you had to force yourself to pull yourself out of Matthew’s embrace. You’ve both woken up in the same entanglement as the morning before, but this time, you liked it. You enjoyed the warmth and comfort his hold produced. You groan as you get out of bed and walk to the washroom in the cold away from Matthew. You had to be up early to get things ready for the makeup artist, hairdresser, and photographer. You briefly washed your face and brushed your teeth before throwing on a pair of leggings and your “I Do Crew” t-shirt that was made for you. You grab your dress, shoes, and jewelry before heading over closer to the bed to grab your phone and purse. You place everything down and kiss Matthew on the forehead. You smiled at how peaceful and cute he looked as he was still sleeping.

If only it were real.

. . .

When Matthew’s alarm went off a few hours later, he moved closer to your pillow hoping to hold you for a little bit longer. When his head hits your cold pillow, Matthew’s chipper mood deflates when he realizes you’re not gone. He knows that you had to leave early for wedding preparations, but it still hurts knowing that you weren’t there to wake up next to him. In the past few days, Matthew has gotten used to waking up next to you. He isn’t sure what he’s going to do when you both return to your normal lives and he can no longer wake up next to you.

. . .

“Well, you look nice, Matthew,” Chantal says as Matthew sits in the row next to his family. Matthew straightens his tie. His leg is bouncing up and down in nervousness. Chantal observes her son from the corner of her eye and smiles at his actions.

“Have you seen Yn yet today?” Chantal leans over and asks. Matthew shakes his head no; he was nervous to see you. Matthew got a glimpse of your bridesmaid’s dress, and he knows you’re going to be just as beautiful, if not more, than the night of the rehearsal.

Matthew and his family continue to chat quietly, and everyone in the crowd abruptly ends their conversations as Shelly’s groom heads to the front of the aisle. In a matter of seconds, the orchestra begins to play the “Wedding March”, and everyone turns their heads to the aisle awaiting the procession. The groomsmen process down the aisle and take their places. Following the groomsmen are the bridesmaids. As each woman processes down the aisle and takes their places, Matthew is confused when he doesn’t see you among them. Matthew assumes, though, that because you’re the maid of honor, you have something special to do.

Matthew’s suspicions are confirmed when you walk down the aisle in your blush, floor-length, off-the-shoulder dress with your right hand holding the hand of the flower girl and your left hand holding a bouquet. As you walk down the aisle, Matthew is entranced by you. He stops breathing and blinking as he watches you. He watches as you lead the flower girl to her place and stand behind her. When everyone’s attention is turned to Shelly and her father walking down the aisle, Matthew’s attention is focused on you. He knew you were beautiful, but you were beautiful. There isn’t any difference between the two words, Matthew knows, but the latter word somehow means more. Matthew keeps telling himself it’s the dress, but he knows it’s not just the dress. It’s the person wearing the dress. It’s the way your face glowed from happiness at the new couple and the makeup you had on. It was the way your hair flowed impeccably in the breeze. It’s the way you looked amazing in that dress that had Matthew frozen. You were the most beautiful person Matthew has ever seen, and he didn’t want to look away.

When you catch Matthew’s eye, he swears he died and came back to life. You smile softly at him, but he doesn’t do anything. He just stands there staring at you as the officiant continues to talk. Chantal notices you trying to stifle a giggle and turns to her son to see if he had anything to do with it. When she sees Matthew just staring at you, she elbows him.

“Smile at her,” Chantal directs. That, it seemed, was what finally took Matthew out of his trance. He blinks and takes a deep breath right before sending you his signature smile. You shake your head playfully when you notice that Chantal had to remind him to smile and pay attention. You turn your attention back to the ceremony happening right in front of you as the officiant directs everyone to sit. You also try to ignore the hole it feels like Matthew (and the rest of the Tkachuks) were burning into the back of your head.

Because you were the maid of honor, you were one of the official witnesses and had to stand behind the bride. Through it all, Matthew was watching you. He was captivated by you, enamored by you. You met his eye a few times and had to force yourself not to laugh as a blush overcame his face and he turned away. Taryn, thinking that the next wedding she’d be attending was between you and Matthew, was watching the interactions between you two. The first time she watched you looked constipated as you tried to hide a giggle, she knew Matthew was the reason. After the second time, Taryn made sure to keep an eye on Matthew, too, so he could watch his reaction. Normally, in relationships, Matthew was confident, cocky, and full of himself. He was always the one to make the person he was dating speechless, shy, and look away bashfully. This time, though, you were the one in control, overtaking Matthew’s usual position. This time, Matthew was the one who was smiling bashfully and looking away whenever you’d meet his eye.

Taryn noticed that you stopped turning your attention to Matthew when the vows began to focus on the bride and groom. That doesn’t mean, though, that Matthew was paying attention to the happy couple. He was still watching you.

“Hey, Matthew,” Taryn leans over her mother and whispers.

That seems to take Matthew out of his trance as he rolls his eyes at his sister's words. “What?”

“Stop staring at your girlfriend. You’re trying to get her to marry you, not run away from you.”

“Taryn,” Chantal warns. Matthew doesn’t say anything except to stare ahead. This time, though, he doesn’t place his eyes on you. No, he places his eyes on the couple hoping to get his family off his case. He didn’t want to face the reality of the situation that Matthew wasn’t trying to get you to marry him despite him knowing you were the one. He hoped to ignore the true reason why Matthew was here as your date and not as a family friend. During the rest of the ceremony, Matthew doesn’t look at you once. He opts to look at the couple, the officiant, or the beauty of the outdoor venue. He hopes that by not looking at you, Matthew can escape the reality that he’s in love with you and you, it seems, are not.

When the ceremony ends and the couple walks down the aisle, you and the rest of the wedding party are getting ready to take photos during the Cocktail Hour. You try to make your way to find Matthew and see him because you missed him, but every time it seemed you had a chance, he was busy or was avoiding you.

Eventually, the Cocktail Hour was over and everyone was heading into the location of the reception. After you’ve made your rounds, you look around to see where Matthew was or your brother. You weren’t sure who you were going to sit with, but you were hoping to sit next to Matthew, though. You weren’t sure why Matthew was in a sour mood, but you knew you caused it. You only hoped he wasn’t too mad at you.

“Hey, you look beautiful,” Brady says as he walks up to you. He is holding a fresh drink in his hand, so you assume he was coming from the bar.

“Thank you,” you murmur, wondering if Matthew was around, too.

“Matthew, don’t you think so, too?” Brady says, and you turn your head to where Brady was directing his question to.

“Hi,” you whisper when your eyes lock with Matthew’s. You see anger in his eyes and are suddenly worried that Matthew is truly upset at you. However, Matthew’s face softens when you send him a soft smile, and the anger leaves his face.

“Are you sitting with us?” Brady asks.

“Of course, she’s sitting with us,” Matthew says and walks over to and wraps an arm around your waist. “She’s my girlfriend.”

You smile and let Matthew lead you to where his family is sitting. Matthew pulls out a chair for you to sit in, and he pushes it in for you. Matthew takes the seat next to you, and you’re suspicious that it was Brady’s when he grumbled about sitting in the chair next to you. Immediately upon sitting, Matthew places his hand on your thigh and scoots his chair closer to yours.

As the night carried on, Matthew never took his hand off your thigh, and he constantly whispered in your ear asking if you were okay. If you needed a refill on a drink, Matthew always went to the bar to get you a refill and insisted you shouldn’t have to get up. He always returned by placing the drink on the table and placing a kiss on your forehead.

When he returned with your third or fourth refill of the night, you smiled at him as he sat down and told him, “You know, I’m starting not to hate you anymore.”

Matthew looks at you sadly at your words. You still had animosity towards him? He thought he’s been working so hard to change your opinion of him, but it seems it's just barely working. You notice the strain and sadness in Matthew’s pout and wonder if you did something wrong. You place your hand on his thigh and look into his eyes. The minute your hand touched his thigh, Matthew was fine. It didn’t matter what you said because he knows he cares about you, and he knows that deep down, you care for him, too, despite your words.

“You okay?” you ask.

“Of course,” he says with a smile. “I’m sitting next to the prettiest person in the world; why wouldn’t I be okay?”

You smile at Matthew’s words and rest your head on his shoulder. What were you going to do when you and Matthew no longer could be like this? You knew you were going to miss it.

. . .

As the reception is nearing the final hours, everyone’s moods have turned more casual and laid back, including you and Matthew. Both of your chairs were right up against each other with you leaning heavily against Matthew with your head resting on his chest. His hand was wrapped around your shoulders and was rubbing small patterns on your shoulder. You and Matthew are talking to Brady and Taryn when a slow song, one of your favorites, begins to play. You perk up slightly, wondering if you should ask Matthew to dance with you.

“Hey, Yn, isn’t this one of your favorite songs?” Brady instigates.

“Oh, yeah, I guess it is,” you reply, and Matthew looks down at you softly.

“Do you want to dance, Yn?” Matthew asks. You nod and slowly pull away so he can lead you to the dance floor. You and Matthew position yourselves so that your hands are resting just below his neck with his resting on your mid-back. You both sway to the song, and you’re both entranced with each other’s eyes. As the song continues, Matthew’s hands slowly rise up to the bare skin of your upper back. He begins to stroke soft patterns on your skin, and it sends chills up your spine. You pull yourself closer to Matthew to try to use his warmth to evade the chills. You run your fingers through the hair at the nape of Matthew’s neck, and you see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.

As the song comes to an end, Matthew licks his lips and leans his head towards yours. He pulls his head back slightly. Was this appropriate? He didn’t have the chance to further contemplate kissing you because you pulled away and led him back to the table. His one true regret that evening is that he didn’t kiss you. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to kiss you badly, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss you and tell you how much he loves you.

He knows he’s dug himself into a hole he will never get out of.

. . .

“What are you doing today?” Matthew asks as you’re getting ready for the day. Based on his tone, you know something’s up, and you have to agree with whatever it is.

“Why?” you ask nervously.

“Would you want to go to my parents’ house for Sunday dinner? Like pastimes?”

You turn to face Matthew and smirk at him. “I feel like I don’t have a choice here.”

“My mom said that I had to bring you, no negotiations, so yeah, you have no choice.”

You laugh. “Okay, I can go to your parents’ for Sunday dinner, but I know my parents and brother won’t be there. They have plans tonight.”

“What are you going to do for the rest of the day, then?” Matthew asks knowing he wants to spend the day with you.

“I’m going to visit some friends from high school; what are you doing?”

“Just hanging around. Nothing much.”

“Okay then, why don’t I meet you back here, and then we can head over to your parents’ house?”

“Perfect,” Matthew says and turns away from you to go shower. On his face, he’s wearing a wide smile. He only hoped that you were just as excited as he was.

. . .

Unlike when you were growing up, you didn’t stay outside with the boys while Chantal and Keith got dinner together. This time, you and Taryn were in the kitchen helping Chantal cook while Brady and Matthew were out at the grill helping Keith. Now and then, you’d look out the backyard window and notice Matthew. Sometimes, he’d meet your eye and wink at you, and your face would grow warm. Or, sometimes, he wouldn’t be looking at you, but you saw him turn his head away as if he was just looking at you. Sometimes, he didn’t notice you looking at all, and you loved watching him interact with his dad and brother.

“He seems lighter when he’s around you,” Chantal comments after noticing you and Matthew staring at each other for the gazillionth time that afternoon.

“How so?” you ask.

“He’s nice,” Taryn says blatantly.

“Taryn,” Chantal scolds, and you can’t help but smile.

“I’m not wrong,” she defends.

Chantal rolls her eyes. “All I’m trying to say is, you guys are good for each other. It’s about time you both realized the dynamic you both have after years of animosity between you two.”

“Who knows, maybe we’ll finally be sisters,” Taryn jokes, hinting at the possibility of marriage. The smile on your face fades as you remember that you and Matthew aren’t dating. The smile fades knowing that you and Matthew wouldn’t ever get married, and when this ruse was over, many more people would get hurt than you both anticipated.

“Anyways, let’s go eat, yeah?” Chantal approaches. “Taryn, you put the salad on the plate and tell the boys we’re ready. Yn, you can help me scoop the other sides, okay?”

You were about to take the potato salad out to the table, but Chantal grabs your shoulder lightly and signals you to hold back for a moment.

“Just know, Matthew cares deeply for you,” she advises. “At the end of the day, he’s crazy about you; don’t forget that.”

You don’t have the words to say anything in response, so you just nod. Chantal seems to think you fully understand her words, so she walks out to the backyard. You don’t. What could she be talking about? Did she know that you and Matthew weren’t dating? You thought you both put up a pretty good act.

Opting to try to enjoy the evening, you place your worries to the back of your head and walk out to the patio. Just as you’re placing the potato salad on the table, Brady is placing the grilled corn on the table, too. Taryn’s already taken her usual seat, and because it’s a smaller crowd, Chantal has taken the seat where your brother would normally sit. Following tradition, you sit next to Taryn, and Brady takes the seat next to you. Keith has taken his seat and says that Matthew has gotten to grab a refill of drinks for you and him.

“Brady, move,” Matthew growls to his brother from behind you. You perk your head up and turn to see Matthew glaring at his brother.

“What? No! Go sit somewhere else. I’m already sitting here,” Brady says in retaliation and annoyance. He shakes his head and mutters a comment to you asking how you put up with him. You stifle a giggle knowing that the look in Matthew’s eyes was of determination, and the ordeal wasn’t over yet.

“Brady, I said, move,” Matthew says more forcefully.

“Why can’t you sit somewhere else? You never sit here.”

“Brady, move,” Matthew growls again.

“Why don’t you sit here, Matthew?” Taryn asks, trying to diffuse the situation. It was clear that Matthew wanted to sit next to you.

“No, I want Brady to move.”

“I’m not going to,” Brady is firm in his words. “Seriously, Yn, how do you deal with him sometimes?”

You don’t say anything, but Matthew does and is still incessant on Brady moving. “Brady, move and sit somewhere else. I want to sit next to my girlfriend.”

Brady stands up and stares at his brother. Looking at Matthew’s face, Brady knows that Matthew won’t give up on his endeavor, so Brady sighs and proceeds to get up. Brady goes and sits in his old normal seat, and Matthew sits next to you. He places a glass of water on the table for himself (he already had one beer but was driving, so he had to be safe) and lemonade for you. “Thank you, Brady,” Matthew says softly once he’s situated.

Brady grumbles in reply and mutters about how annoying Matthew was. You place your hand on Matthew’s thigh and lean over to whisper in his ear, “You didn’t have to force Brady to move, you know. It’s fine if we don’t sit next to each other.”

“It’s not fine,” Matthew whispers into your ear. “I wanted to sit next to my girlfriend, so I was going to sit next to my girlfriend.”

You open your mouth to say how it was all a ruse but decide against it.

“Shall we eat?” After observing her two sons spar over a seat and Matthew melt as he whispers into your ear, Chantal finally says.

Conversation, as everyone eats, varies from the wedding from the previous night to Taryn going to college to the upcoming season to your job. You loved how normal it was and how it was like before. It felt like before you and Matthew turned ten started hating each other. It was like when you were both young and the idea of marrying each other was still a thing. It was the way life was supposed to be had Matthew not started hating you at the age of ten. As you were both eating, Matthew always had a hand on you. Whether it was on your thigh or around your shoulder, Matthew was always touching you, and his family noticed completely.

“You know, when Matthew told us you were both dating, I was truly shocked. I was surprised you would ever go for him, Yn, considering you are way out of his league,” Brady says out of nowhere and tries to get back at his brother.

“Brady,” Keith warns.

“He’s not wrong, though,” Taryn points out, not realizing the true intentions of Brady's words. “As much as I love you, Matthew, Yn is completely out of your league.”

You notice Matthew stiffening up next to you, and you place your hand on his thigh to try to calm him down.

“I’m just surprised you even gave him a chance considering Matthew hated you for like half your life.”

“Taryn,” Chantal warns. Taryn looks up at her mother and shrugs in confusion.

“I never hated, Yn,” Matthew defends. “I’m not sure where you guys are getting that from.”

“How about the fact that — ow!” Brady is stopped as Chantal kicks him under the table. An awkward silence fills the table as everyone finishes up their meals. What did Matthew mean when he said he never hated you? His actions definitely showed it. Did he still hate you? All these questions swirled in your head as Taryn volunteers you and her for clearing the table. You move in autopilot as you clear the table still trying to figure out the meaning of Matthew’s words.

“I’m sorry for my comments out there,” Taryn apologizes. “I didn’t mean to say anything hurtful.”

“Don’t worry,” you tell her with a smile. “I wasn’t offended, but I think Matthew could use an apology more than me.”

“Nah, he’ll be fine. He’s got thick skin, and it’s not like I said anything he didn’t know.”

“Mmm,” you say, not sure how to respond.

“I’ve never seen Matthew so protective over someone before. Is possessive the right word? I don’t know, but I don’t think he’s ever been like that. If he would challenge Brady to something and wouldn’t immediately get his way, then he’d just drop the subject or physically fight Brady. He didn’t do either of those things. There’s something about you, Yn, that brings out a different side to Matthew,” Taryn points out as she’s rinsing the dishes, and you place them in the dishwasher.

“Interesting,” you say, again, not sure how to respond

“It’s a good thing. You’re both good for each other.”

. . .

You and Matthew say goodbye to Chantal, Keith, Brady, and Taryn two hours later and head back to the hotel you were staying at. Chantal couldn’t understand why you guys didn’t just stay with them before you flew back to Calgary the next morning. You weren’t sure how to explain that you’re not dating her son, and you needed some time to unwind and not have to be Matthew’s pretend girlfriend for extended periods of time.

As you’re driving to the hotel, you and Matthew sit in silence. Now and then, Matthew would shift in his seat in discomfort. You could tell he was still upset from Brady’s and Taryn’s comments. You reach your hand across the center console and place it on his thigh. You hear Matthew’s breath halt at the touch, and you’re confused at the sound.

“Matthew, are you okay?” you ask softly. “Don’t take Brady’s and Taryn’s words too seriously.”

“Yeah, but —”

“Matthew, don’t,” you interrupt as he stops at a red light. He turns to you, and his heart melts at how the lights on the street illuminate your face. He nods at your words, and suddenly, he wasn’t sad or frustrated anymore. The drive continues in silence, but your hand doesn’t leave his thigh. You have one lingering thought, though. “Matthew?”

“Mmm?” he asks.

“What did you mean when you said earlier that you didn’t hate me?”

“I didn’t realize there was anything to say. I don’t hate you,” Matthew says blatantly.

“Yeah, but you did hate me.”

Matthew laughs sourly. “Why do you think that even though I’ve told you that I didn’t hate you?”

“You were such a pest to me after we turned ten.”

“That didn’t mean I hated you, Yn.”

“Then why were you such a pest?” you ask.

“Because I had a giant crush on you when we were ten.”

“You had a what?” you asked, shocked, as Matthew drives into a parking space.

“A crush when we were ten,” Matthew answers and walks out of the car. He walks over to your side and opens the door for you. You step out of the car still reeling for his confession. “Don’t worry, Yn, I don’t have a crush on you anymore, so don’t worry.”

“Good,” you reply quietly. You aren’t sure why you are so upset at Matthew’s words, but you are. Did you have a crush on Matthew, now?

. . .

You’re standing in front of the mirror placing the final touches on your makeup and hair as you get ready to fly back to Calgary. You vaguely notice Matthew sitting in the chair behind you. You figured he was looking at his phone or watching the TV that was on. You lift your eyes to glance at the boy in question. Just as your eyes meet his face, Matthew looks up, and his eyes land right on yours. You stop moving, too entranced in his gaze. Matthew sends you a soft smile, and you mirror his smile. He sends you a wink, and your eyes instantly dart away from him. You continue getting ready, and you try to ignore the heat that rushed to your face and the rapid beating of your heart.

. . .

“I brought pizza and beer, is that good?” you say as you walk into Matthew’s kitchen. It was his first night back in Calgary since you said goodbye at the airport after the wedding, and he wanted to spend the night with you.

“That’s perfect,” he says and takes everything out of your hands.

You take your shoes off and walk further into this apartment. “Oh, looks like you cleaned.”

Matthew looks around the apartment and scratches the back of his neck. He turns to you, and you see a slight blush lining his cheeks. “Yeah, well, no one likes to live in a pigsty.”

You raise your eyebrow at his words. “What version of Matthew is this? The high school version of Matthew had the most disgusting bedroom ever.”

“Oh, shut up,” Matthew rolls his eyes and throws a napkin at you. You swat at it and begin to giggle. Matthew takes a piece of pizza and places it on a plate for you and opens a bottle of beer for you. You take it out of his hands with a soft “thank you” and walk over to his kitchen table. He places his plate and beer on the table and places his hands on your hips; your breath catches in your throat at his touch, and Matthew swears his heart started to beat a hundred times faster at the sound. He guides you towards the couch. “We’re sitting on the couch to eat.”

“But, Matthew,” you say after regaining your voice. You watch him grab his beer and plate from the table where he placed it and sits next to you.

“Nope, we’re not at Yn’s house. We’re at Matthew’s house, so we eat on the couch when we’re having a movie night.”

“Matthew,” you begin again.

He shakes his head as he takes a sip. “Don’t. I can’t eat this once training camp and the season starts, so let’s just enjoy it, okay?”

You nod and take a bite out of your pizza. Why did your breath hitch out of your throat when Matthew touched you? He’s touched you before, but why was it different this time?

. . .

“How about these?” Matthew asks as he holds a bag of chips in front of your face.

You shake your head. “I don’t like that flavor, and I already bought a bag of chips.”

“Maybe you should buy them for me, this lovely person who you forced to go grocery shopping with you.”

“That is not what happened, Matthew, and you know that,” your point out.

Matthew walks over to you and entraps you from where you’re standing at your shopping cart. He places his hands on the bar on your sides so you can’t move. He leans his head towards your ear and whispers, “Then tell me what happened.”

“You know what happened,” you murmur, trying to hide the fact that Matthew’s actions and words were sending chills down your spine.

“But I want you to tell me,” he whispers again into your ear.

“You showed up at my apartment just as I was about to leave,” you swallow before continuing, “and you insisted on coming with me, and here we are.”

“I don’t recall that being how it happened,” Matthew says against your neck, and the vibrations warm your entire body. You figure if Matthew was going to mess with you in the middle of the snack aisle at the grocery store, you might as well do the same. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face closer to yours. Your lips are micrometers from his, and you can tell that Matthew is nervous.

“That’s exactly how I remember it happening,” you say against his lips and with each word you said, your lips touching Matthew’s. Out of instinct and preparation for a kiss, Matthew places his hands on your waist, and you smirk, knowing you have him right where you want him. You run your hands up through his hair, and Matthew’s hold on you becomes limp. You lean closer, if possible, to him, and Matthew thinks you’re going to kiss him. Just when you would’ve leaned forward and kiss Matthew, you pull back and escape from where Matthew has you entrapped. You’re standing a few feet away from him, and you notice Matthew still in his trance. “You coming?”

That seems to take him out of his trance, and he nods and pushes the shopping cart to follow you. Matthew isn’t sure what happened, but he knows that whatever did just happen sent Matthew to heaven.

. . .

“What are you wearing?” Taryn asks you when you sit down next to her.

“Oh, this old thing?” you say, pretending to be oblivious.

“Matthew’s going to hate it considering you’re his girlfriend, who the Flames are playing, and what you’re not wearing.”

“I’m counting on it.”

“You are such a pest like Matthew. No wonder you guys are so good to each other,” Taryn rolls her eyes.

“You’re lucky we won or you’d have hell brought down upon you,” Matthew says when you’re standing outside the locker room after the game.

“I didn’t know you knew the devil personally,” you joke.

“Why did you have to wear Brady’s jersey, Yn? The day that I play the Sens, you are wearing the wrong brother’s jersey.”

You shrug but have a knowing smirk on your face. “I felt like it.”

Matthew groans when he sees Brady walking over to you and him. “Nice jersey,” Brady smirks.

“Thank you. Too bad you guys lost.”

“Seriously?” Matthew’s mouth’s agape.

“Oh shut up, you know I cheered for you when you scored,” you say and link arms with Brady as you head towards Chantal and Keith. “It worked. I pissed him off,” you whisper to Brady.

“You guys are so weird,” Brady chuckles. Matthew just stands behind you and Brady and is trying to figure out what just happened and how he’s going to get back at you.

. . .

When you showed up to the Senators-Flames game wearing Brady’s jersey, Matthew knew he had to think of a way to get back at you. After a week-long road trip and coming home at 2 am, Matthew wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. He also wanted nothing more in the world to see you and to get back at you. When he got in his car to drive home, Matthew realized he had the perfect plan to get back at you. He knows that something you value deeply is your sleep, so because you messed with something important to Matthew, he was going to mess with something important to you.

Matthew drives to your apartment from the airport and parks in the parking spot next to your car. He isn’t sure why he thought you didn’t have a car and why you don’t drive it to work, but here your car is. He walks into the lobby of your building and waves to the nightguard working the night shift. He takes the elevator up to your floor and walks up to your door. He takes a deep breath and begins to aggressively ring your doorbell. He hopes that you wake up and none of your neighbors do.

The ringing continues for twenty seconds before you realize it’s not your alarm. You sit up for a few moments when you realize that it’s someone at the door. When the ringing doesn’t stop, you get worried that something’s wrong. You rush over to the door and open it. “Is everything okay?” you blurt out before noticing who’s the one ringing your doorbell.

“No, I have a very important message for you,” Matthew says with a smirk grazing his face.

“What happened? Is everything okay?” you’re worried now. You’re still barely awake, and if you were, you probably would have noticed the smirk on Matthew’s face.

“It’s an important message. Ready for it?”

“Yeah, yeah, just tell me!”

“Hi.”

“Hi? That’s it? Matthew, you rang my door like a lunatic and made me worry that something was seriously wrong. What’s wrong with you?”

“You wore Brady’s jersey to my hockey game.”

“So you decide to pull this shit?” you’re angry now, and Matthew realizes he made a mistake.

“I’m sorry. I also wanted to see you,” he mumbles.

You sigh and pull him into your apartment. “Then call me instead of halfway giving me a heart attack.”

Matthew nods and follows you into your apartment. He puts his bag down by the door and takes his shoes off.

“I’m going back to sleep, but you can change and shower in my washroom and join me when you’re ready. I’m not staying awake; I’m too tired.”

Matthew is shocked that you’re doing this. Matthew woke you at 2 in the morning just because and you’re opening your home for him despite it. Matthew will never take your friendship for granted ever again.

. . .

“Matthew, are we still fake dating?” you ask out of nowhere. It’s been months since the wedding, and you weren’t sure if you and Matthew still had that title. Recently, you both had been hanging out together, but it didn’t seem like “dating”. It was “friend” hangouts, and you were both disappointed and happy with it.

“Why do you ask?” Matthew asks. He doesn’t want to fake date you anymore; he wants to real date you, but he isn’t sure if you want that, too.

“Because,” you hesitate.

“Because, why?”

“I went out with some friends the other night and this guy was hitting on me, and I turned him down because I didn’t know if we were still under the ruse of dating.”

“Oh,” Matthew says dejectedly. “Don’t worry, if you see him, or anyone else, who’s hitting on you, then you can say yes. We, as of this moment, are just friends and no longer fake dating.”

You nod. “What do we tell people? Like, Shelly or your family?”

Matthew shrugs. “We realized we were better off friends. We went from the extreme of not being able to be around each other to the extreme of always being around each other and realized it doesn’t work.”

“Okay,” you say. You weren’t sure why you were so upset with Matthew’s response.

After the conversation, you head home about an hour later with your head still reeling from Matthew’s words. Just friends, he said, but you didn’t want that, did you? You wanted Matthew in every way that you could. You wanted him next to you when you woke up and when you fell asleep. You wanted good morning kisses, good night kisses, and just kisses in between that. You wanted Matthew because you liked him. You wanted Matthew because, in the months of fake dating, you fell for him. You fell for Matthew Tkachuk, the one boy you never thought you’d fall for, and the one boy who doesn’t want you like that.

. . .

You went out with Matthew and the team to celebrate another win. This time, you wore Matthew’s jersey, and you swore Matthew’s smile grew wider when he saw you in it. The celebration at the bar thus far has been fun. You weren’t sure if the team knows you and Matthew “broke up”, but it doesn’t matter because Matthew was still being touchy with you, and you hoped that you were hiding your feelings for Matthew well.

“I’m going to go get some refills for us, okay? Same drink for you?” Matthew whispers into your ear. You visibly shiver at his action, and you know Matthew noticed. You nod, not trusting your words. To try to ignore how you’re feeling, you immerse yourself in conversation with the group. It works, you think, but when you look up and see the back of Matthew’s head, your heart begins to beat rapidly. You needed to figure out how to get your emotions in check if you’re going to continue to be hanging out as friends with Matthew.

“So, you and Matthew have been going strong, huh?” Annica says when she notices you staring at Matthew. You snap your attention back to the woman. Matthew must not have told the team that you and he “broke up”. You guess that would be a weird conversation to have. You doubted Matthew said something along the lines of, “Yes, we broke up, but I’m going to keep bringing Yn around. Why? Well, we were never really dating, and now we are just friends. Yeah, it’s weird, but just go with it.”

“Oh, um, yeah,” you reply, hoping that Annica didn’t read too much into your words.

“I can tell he’s crazy about you and that he —,” Annica is interrupted by Elias bringing her another glass of wine and conversation changes. You look back at Matthew to try to figure out the meaning of Annica’s words. Just as your eyes land on Matthew’s head, he turns around, as if sensing your gaze, and meets your eyes. He smiles at you, and you instantly feel the tears falling from your eyes. You try to blink them away, but when Matthew begins to rush over to you, you know that he noticed. You excuse yourself from the group and rush out of the bar.

“Yn, yn,” Matthew calls out to you. He catches up to you with his long strides and places his hand gently on your shoulder. You turn to face him and feverishly wipe the tears away. “Yn, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie.

“I didn’t know we cry over nothing now, but thanks for letting me know,” Matthew jokes, but it doesn’t do anything to make you feel better. “What’s wrong?”

“I can’t be your friend anymore; it just hurts too much to be your friend when I want more,” you blurt out and walk away. Matthew is too stunned at your words to follow after you. You want more? Since when? Matthew doesn’t come to his senses to chase after you until you’re getting into your car to drive home. What does he do now?

. . .

“Yn, yn, yn, I know you’re in there,” Matthew yells as he aggressively knocks on your apartment door the next day. “Yn, please. I just want to talk to you.

You angrily stalk to the door and open it. “What, Matthew? Maybe you should have taken a hint when I didn’t open the door the first eighteen times you knocked on it.”

“Yeah, well, we need to talk, so it doesn’t matter if I was knocking on your door for hours, I’m going to talk to you.”

“Matthew, there’s nothing to say,” you tell him through gritted teeth hoping not to let it show how much you wanted to cry at that moment.

“Like hell, there’s nothing to talk about,” Matthew aggressively replies as he runs his hands through his hair. “You can’t just say that and leave, you know. You’ve had me going crazy, Yn!”

“Well, it’s not like you feel the same way or want the same thing,” you mumble, looking at the ground.

“Are you kidding me? I’ve wanted this since I was ten!” Matthew replies incredulously.

“But you told me you didn’t like me anymore!”

“That’s because I thought you didn't like me like that.”

“Well, I do like you like that, Matthew.”

He takes a step closer to you and looks into your eyes. “That entire time we were fake dating? I was imagining it was real. I was doing everything in my power to make it real so that I could have that experience of being with you because I thought I’d never had a chance with you. Like my parents said, you are completely out of my league, so I was extremely honored that you ever wanted to fake date me.”

“I don’t want to fake date you.”

“I don’t want to fake date you, either,” Matthew chuckles.

“Oh, good,” you reply and look down at your feet. “I want to be your real girlfriend.”

Matthew laughs at your words. “That’s what not wanting to fake date means.”

“Oh, right,” you giggle at yourself.

“So, if I put my hands on your waist and kiss you, is that okay?”

“That’s more than okay, Matthew,” you tell him with a smile and place your hands on his face to bring him closer to you. Matthew smiles at your words and leans his head towards yours. You both softly placed your lips on each other before deepening the kiss. It wasn’t the first kiss you both shared, but it was the first time you kissed each other with your feelings on display. You both deepen the kiss, and Matthew pulls you into him. You run your fingers through the hair at the nape of Matthew’s neck, and you giggle at the small moan that leaves him. His moan and your giggle cause you both to pull back. Matthew gives you a pointed look.

“Great, our first kiss ends like that.”

You giggle again. “It’s not our first kiss, Matthew.”

“Still,” he pouts.

“Don’t worry,” you tease. “There will be many, many kisses in our future.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Matthew says with a grin and pulls you in for another kiss.

The get-together wasn’t perfect or what anyone expected, but it was your story, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[ameliora-j]

twin flame iii // gw x reader

words: 2.2k

warnings: angst, breakup, mention of bruising, crying, angelina slander kinda (it’s just for the story i love her sm!), yn is sorta a pick me if you squint sry, cringey mediocre writing at very best

an: i used song lyrics for some of the argument and the ending :) i hope you like it besties!

part one | part two | part four

you george! i want you!

the words had been running through his mind since the night you left. he had been going over the days leading up to your explosion in his mind for weeks. your words were in his mind day and night. your pained expression, your anger, your hurt. you consumed him. more than you usually did.

george weasley knew he fucked up. he knew without anyone telling him. but they did anyway. every waking second they did. first it was fred, calling him a jerk. then ron, who called him a “bloody idiot.” then ginny, who told him it was his own fault. and then his mum. of course his mum, who said in exact words: “george fabian weasley, this is nobody’s fault but your own. quit moping around and do something to fix it! i didn’t raise you to treat women this way!”

his last straw, however, was his older brother percy. percy of all people. who looked at him with a disappointed shake of his head. receiving a disappointed head shake from percy was nothing out of the ordinary, especially for george. it was his words that stung. percy spoke ten simple words to him that truly set george off. percy spoke “you lost the best thing that’s ever happened to you.” at his sentence, george lost it.

“i know that percy! you don’t think i fucking know that i lost the best thing that ever happened to me! and fred i know i’m a jerk and ron i know i’m an idiot and ginny i know it’s my fault and mum i’m sorry okay! i know you didn’t raise me like this i don’t know what’s wrong with me but i don’t think she’s coming back!” he fell back onto the couch as he tugged frustratedly at his roots.

“george… do you love her?” molly asked him.

“yes mum,” a whimper escaped the fiery-haired boy’s throat. “i love her more than i’ve ever loved anyone before. she’s my world,” he revealed.

“then go, george. go get her,” his dad said. “for your sake and her’s,” he told him.

“and our’s!” fred called distantly from the kitchen.

“shove off fred!” george called back before apparating to your front door. he knocked three times and waited for someone to answer it. when you opened the door, he was shocked at your state.

makeup streaked down your cheeks with your shoulder bruised and your arm in a splint. your eyes were red and puffy, but they were furthermore accompanied by dark bags as if you hadn’t slept in weeks. the truth is; you hadn’t. “hi george,” you mumbled half heartedly.

“hi butterfl-“ you cut him off.

“yn. my name is yn,” you spoke sternly.

“i’ve called you butterfly since you were three…” he murmured.

“not anymore. hurts too bad to hear it. did you need something?” you quickly changed the subject.

“i want to talk to you,” he said. you nodded and walked in, telling him to follow you. george said hello to your brother and then followed you into the lounge where you two sat on the loveseat and you turned to face him.

you sat in a long silence as your eyes traced each other’s features. you memorized him. every line, every freckle, every bump, bruise, and blemish. the silence was deafening. untill he finally broke it. “what happened to your arm?” he murmured softly.

“it splinched when i apparated home. then i apparated again and made it worse,” you bit your lip softly.

“always so reckless,” he tutted softly, causing you to shrug.

“what’d you wanna talk about? know you didn’t come to talk about my arm…” you attempted to get to the point of his visit.

“right,” he murmured softly. “yn i…” he took a deep breath. “the day that i let you walk out of my life is the day that i made the worst mistake in the history of mistakes. i’ve done some stupid things in my life, but letting you walk away has by far been the stupidest. i’m so so sorry that i hurt you the way i did, i cannot express to you how sorry i am, i truly cannot. i love you, yn. with all of me i do, you have to believe me when i say that.”

“i do believe you george. i just don’t believe that you love me the way that i love you. and carrying around that pain is killing me. i mean absolutely destroying me. you live in my mind rent free. you’ve infested it,” you told him. “you with your stupid pretty smile and your god awful jokes and your ridiculous pranks that you somehow always rope me into and your perfect hair and your pretty eyes and just. you. george. stupid you. oblivious you. godric george,” you roughly shoved his chest. “i’ve loved you for years and you’ve always looked past me!” tears rimmed your bottom lash line and your voice cracked as you lashed out on him.

“for years george, i mean years! i’ve watched you fall in love with countless girls just to have your heart broken by them. i stuck by you through everything. even when you stopped being being my friend because it made angelina uncomfortable i waited for you george! and you just pushed me to the side. i did everything for you. i executed pranks for you. i planned pranks for you. i took the fall for you. i got detention for you! i did it all for you. i mean the countless amount of things i did just to be able to call you mine and i just… you didn’t care! you’ve never cared! you’ll never love me the way that i love you and that hurts. so. fucking. bad.” you wiped your eyes.

“it kills me george. it eats at me, every single day it does. i stood by your side and i took the blame with you even when i had nothing to do with the stupid shit you pulled at hogwarts because yeah i was going down, but hey, at least i was doing it with you, right? we made so much trouble and-and we used to laugh. and be happy. we were genuinely happy and i don’t know where we went wrong but we did, but i still say that i hate you with a smile on my face! i don’t get it george why don’t you love me!” a whimper tore itself from the depths of your chest as you let out a silent sob.

“now look what we’ve became…” he murmured, tears falling from your eyes.

“all the things i did just to call you mine… and… and all the things you said but… somehow, i still hope i was your favorite crime. cause merlin knows you were mine.” you sniffled as you wiped your eyes.

“you were mine. you’ll always be my favorite crime.” he leaned over and kissed your head as another silent sob racked your body. “now it’s bittersweet to think about the damage that we did,” he smiled over at you sadly. “i love you butterfly. just as much as you love me, if not more,” he whispered as he stood from his place.

you rolled your eyes water-logged eyes, but still managed to smile. “i wish you thought about that before,” you whispered.

“i do too… i guess i’ll have to just call you the one that got away then?” he asked.

“in another life georgie… i’d be your girl. and we’d keep every promise that we made,” you told him.

“and i wouldn’t have to say you were the one that got away,” you nodded as he kissed your head again. “i love you, butterfly. i always have.”

“i love you too, georgie. i always will,” you sniffled as you watched him walk out the door. you didn’t want this. you wanted to stop him. everything in your body screamed at you to stop him. but your brain wouldn’t work. your heart said no. you were scared of being hurt again.

you wanted to do something. yell at him. tell him to come back. to hug you. to never leave you. to never let you go. but your heart wouldn’t let you. you were frozen in time.

~~

it’ll all get better in time.

you’d heard the saying time and time again. especially after your parents passed away. it was people’s favorite line to use when they saw you. the truth is… you didn’t stop hurting. the pain didn’t go away. you just got used to it. but the pain you were feeling now… you didn’t know if it would ever go away. at least it didn’t feel like it.

two months. it had been two months since george walked out of your house that night. it was nobody’s fault but your own, and somehow you couldn’t help wishing he would’ve stayed.

you saw him everywhere. in the stars in the night sky. in the sunrise and the sunset. in coffee shops and store windows. even in your dreams when you slept. so logically, you decided to stop. if you didn’t sleep you couldn’t dream. and if you didn’t dream, you couldn’t see him.

you dutifully ignored the pain in your chest like an annoying bug on a picnic. you pretended that you were fine, but the reality was; you weren’t. but you played it off. and you were able to keep up your facade. untill one day… that one fateful day tucked in the corner at ninety three diagon alley. your brother asked you to pick up ten second pimple vanisher because he had a date tonight and just received a pimple the size of jupiter on his nose, causing him to look like “the muggle myth rudolph the red-nosed reindeer” as he put it.

you walked into the shop and kept your head down as you searched the aisles. it wasn’t where it usually was. you knew this shop like the back of your hand, of course you had… you’d worked there for nearly three years. you furrowed your brows as you looked around. the shop had completely transformed. nothing was in the place it usually was. that’s when your eyes landed there. on her. right at the front, behind the till at the register you worked, in the uniform you wore was angelina johnson.

you sighed deeply as you extended your neck around the corner to where the office was. you smiled triumphantly as you saw fred sitting at his desk and began your trek. you gently knocked twice on the opened door and fred called, “come in,” distractedly.

you walked in and sat on the desk, right in front of him, forcing him to look up at you. “yn!” fred exclaimed.

“hi freddie!” you smiled as a giggle escaped your lips and you returned the death-grip hug he had enveloped you in.

“what brings you by? not that i don’t love seeing your pretty face, of course,” he shot you a playfully flirtatious wink.

“ybn needs ten second pimple vanisher because he has a date tonight and he woke up with a pimple the size of jupiter on his nose,” fred laughed loudly at your remark. “i tried to look for it, but the stores completely turned around,” you pouted slightly.

“oh yeah, we changed some things up because we needed room for our new products. they’re still in the making, but george disappeared,” he hummed.

“george what?” you asked.

“you didn’t know…?” he asked you.

“no. i… i had no idea,” you stuttered.

“yeah. after the night he went to talk to you, he left a note on our kitchen counter and all his things were packed and he just… left. we haven’t seen or heard from him since. ‘s just been angie and i running the shop now. couldn’t do it alone,” fred explained as he picked up the box. “here you are l-“ before he could finish, you were halfway out the door. “YN WAIT!” he called. “YOU FORGOT YOUR PRODUCT!”

“SORRY FRED! YBN WILL BE OKAY I HAVE TO GO!” you called as you ran out the door as fast as your feet would carry you. if you knew george weasley… and you did… there was only one place he could be. and you prayed to any and every god that would listen that he was there. you prayed like your life depended on it that he was okay. you needed to fix this. to fix him. to make it alright.

in this moment you knew that he needed you. he needed you like peanut butter needs jelly. the way left needs right. like the sun needs the moon. he needed you like you needed him. you ran and ran and ran for miles untill you got to a secluded area. then you took a breath. and you apparated.

it was exactly the way you left it. a dingy old wooden box house sitting at the highest branch of a sycamore tree. you groaned softly as you began to climb the many branches. “george i swear to godric you better be in here,” you grumbled to yourself as you climbed.

it felt like hours—truly it was ten grueling minutes at most—untill you got to the door of the house. you whispered the password and it creaked open. “georgie,” you breathed when you saw him.

there he was. laying on the floor of the treehouse wrapped in blankets and a sleeping bag with a small pillow under his head. the apple to your pie. the straw to your berry. the smoke to your high. the one you knew you’d marry.

the one that got away. your twin flame.

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[ysljoon]

Personal Business|CEO!Jeon Jungkook x Assistant Reader

This fanfic is mature so please avoid if you are not 18+ this is also a yandere fic so there are sensitive topics. 

Warnings: Yandere themes, noncon sex, public sex, crying, fingering (f receiving), dirty talk (jungkook has a filthy mouth christ), creampie, assault?

Being the personal assistant to Jeon Jungkook definitely has been a rollercoaster of experiences, but after working with him for about 2 years now you’ve gotten used to his erratic behavior such as mood swings and unreasonable demands. Everyone in the workplace has admired how long you’ve stuck around, but the paycheck you receive every two weeks is too pretty to pass up. You saw the listing for the job on a job search website and the pay per hour almost had you pass out, but once you came into the office you realized you were getting paid so generously almost as a test to see if the money could keep you around and it sure has.

Today Jungkook was in an extra gruff mood for the day because he had plenty of meetings to go through and not enough time for proper breaks and that’s the least ideal day for him. He loves breaks as much as any other person, but just tenfold. Everyone in the office is allowed a 45 minute lunch break, but since Jungkook is the CEO he will disappear on 2 hour breaks and not a single person knows where he goes. Not even you and people don’t understand how since you’re practically his right hand. You pay no mind to his whereabouts since it doesn’t affect and busy yourself with whatever tasks Jungkook left for you to do. Today he left no tasks for you since he’s been cooped up in his office occupied with other business officials. You haven’t been able to meet with him to get a briefing for the day so now you’re talking with Taehyung at his cubicle while you share a small pizza he ordered for lunch.

“Taehyung, I’m telling you right now there is no way that Joon and the receptionist don’t have something going on! They’re always eyeing each other up and Namjoon is always requesting for her to come to his office. It’s highly suspect.” You explained your reasoning to Taehyung exasperated and took another bite of your crust.

“Listen Y/N, all I’m saying is that it’s way too obvious for it to actually have any worth. Anyways you know how Mr. Jeon feels about workplace romance; he absolutely abhors the thought and would probably fire people on the spot if he ever found out.”

You continued to have your disagreement with Taehyung for a little while more, but what you didn’t realize was that Jungkook was done with his meeting a while ago and was watching you on his laptop through the camera system and was frowning deeply watching you fraternize with your coworker. He was tired of watching you practically throw yourself at Taehyung when you were his and only his. Jungkook got up from his desk and strode to Taehyung’s cubicle to stop this foolishness immediately.

“Mr. Kim, is there a reason why you are holding up my assistant from her work and why the expense report I asked you to do isn’t done?” Jungkook had a look on his face that he wanted to wring Taehyung’s neck and he was very close to, but he didn’t want to scare you off. He had to have you in his possession before he got rid of anybody that even tried to look in your direction so for right now this was his version of playing it cool.

“I-I’m very sorry sir it won’t happen again and I’ll get right to it!” Taehyung quickly turned to his computer and fervently typed in his password to get to work immediately. Jungkook then turned to you and grabbed you by the arm to drag you to his office. You were shocked and stunned by this action because sure he had talked to you roughly, but had never put his hands on you. He swiftly pulled you into his office and slammed the door. He even fully shut his blinds. This started to have you scared. He had this look in his eyes that made your body start to tremble. “S-sir I’m sorry for not working! I just wasn’t able to get the daily briefing for today so I tried my best to get work done. I had a lot of free time so I thought to spend it with Taehyung. I’m sorry if that was wasting company time you can deduct it from my pay!” You were heavily breathing by the time you were done with your panicked spiel. Jungkook chuckled at your anxiety and strode towards you till you were backed up into the wall and at this point you thought he could feel how fast your heart was beating in your chest.

“Darling, if you really want to make it up to me you can kiss me.” He purred in your ear and it sent sickening shivers up your spine. Your head started to spin when you felt him plant his lips on the column of your neck and work his way up to your jaw. You tried to shove him off, but naturally he was able to overpower you and he used his leg and chest to trap you between him and the wall.

“My dear Y/N, I hope you cooperate with me if you know what’s good for you.” He slyly grinned against your skin and started to passionately kiss you. To really show he was in charge he bit down on your bottom lip with force you have never felt before. It had you cry out in pain, but you were quickly silenced when you felt your boss reach under your skirt and start to trace circles against your cunt. He placed a hand against your mouth and gave you a threatening look you have never seen. It was so sinister it had you squirming away from his touch. You thought you could have gotten away but by the time you were able to slide past his body he was grabbing your wrist and slamming you down against his desk which sent things tumbling down to the floor.

“Jungkook, please stop, I'm so sorry!” You didn’t even realize you were bawling at this point, but he ignored your pleas and sobs and continued with his sinister acts. He grasped your wrists in one hand and with his other he slid your panties off and inserted a single long finger into your cunt. “Fuck baby, you’re so tight and wet for me.” He kept pumping his finger into you until he felt like he could insert another one into you. Once the second finger was deep in your hole Jungkook started to pick up the pace and you couldn’t even cry out to what he was doing to you. You felt numb and helpless and wanted him to stop, but your efforts were useless.

“Kitten, I want to hear you. I want to hear how good I make you fucking feel. I want to see you get dumb on my fucking fingers and cock that you don’t even know what to do with yourself. I want you to beg to have your dirty cunt stretched out.” Hearing your boss talk to you like this makes you speechless, but you listen to him because you don’t know what other worse things he can do to you. You let your body succumb to what he’s doing and you let out small moans and whimpers and this makes him let out his own grunts and groans in response. Before you can assess what’s happening when you feel his fingers slip out of your soaked pussy, Jungkook is shoving his cock balls deep into you and you gasp for air feeling the heavy pressure between your legs. He doesn’t give you any time to adjust and starts to pound into you. You cry out in both pain and pleasure from hearing skin slap against skin. You feel close to an orgasm and tears are rolling down your cheeks from desperation. “Sir please let me cum! I need to cum so bad! Please let me cum all over your cock.” You can’t even process the words you’re saying, you just want to have your release so badly. Jungkook slaps your ass and groans a ‘fuck yes baby’ and just seconds after that action you’re creaming on his thick cock. You feel your walls pulse around your boss and this brings him close to the edge and he’s losing control over himself. He starts to wild slam into your cunt and after a few more pumps he’s spilling his cum into you and you feel delirious from everything that had just happened. You hear him adjusting himself behind you, but you can’t bring yourself to even move at the moment. You hear his steps come close to you and you just lie there motionless while you wait for him to speak. “I can’t wait to bring you home with me princess.” After that sentence all you can recall is a blunt object coming in contact with your skull and nothing else.

Notes: thank you so much for reading I’ve been on a pretty solid hiatus and will crosspost what I have written on AO3 on to here too because I have some fics there that I haven’t posted on to Tumblr! If you enjoyed please like and reblog it really helps and you can also give me a Kofi.

[tanyawritesstories]

Love Comes With A Hat | Kung Lao x Reader

So this fic was actually based off of a dream I had a few months ago. It's based off the movie characters looks because that's the way I saw it in my brain. It's the first fic I've written for a Mortal Kombat character so I hope y'all like it and that it's accurate.

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: technically there's smut but it's brief, pregnancy, drinking, angst, feelings, pregnant reader, Bo Rai Cho is a warning all his own

•••

You stared at the test in your hand, not experiencing the emotions you expected. You were shocked more than anything, it had only been one random night. It was an accident. An accident you remembered quite vividly. It had started as just a few innocent drinks with Kung Lao, Liu Kang, and their master Bo Rai Cho. But if you learned anything about Bo Rai Cho that night, it was that he liked to drink and he liked to buy drinks for everyone. That's how you and Kung Lao both ended up more drunk than you wanted to be, and if you had learned anything about Kung Lao that night it was that he was a flirty drunk. A very flirty drunk. You were too tipsy to care about your respectful relationship with the Shaolin monk and just happy that your friend was showing you some romantic attention. You shamelessly flirted back and for some reason Liu Kang, who you later learned wasn't actually drunk and just kept lying about the supposed vodka soda he was drinking, let you and his best friend continue to get more and more handsy with one another.

At the end of the night, Liu had dropped off you and Kung Lao at their temporary earthrealm lodge and gone to take Bo Rai Cho home since he was blackout drunk. At least you and Kung Lao could still stand. The second the door was closed and locked, he was on you. His hat was thrown to the side as his lips moulded perfectly with yours. You could taste all the alcohol he'd consumed and it only intoxicated you more. After spending half the time at the bar with his hand up your skirt, Kung Lao wanted the real thing. He had picked you up and set you on the table, laying you down and stripping everything off your bottom half. He eagerly explored the treasure between your legs with his fingers. Even when drunk, Kung Lao was precise with his movements. He brought you to the edge with just his fingers before licking your juices off of them and taking off just enough clothing to free his member and plunge it deep within you.

Everything was a blur after that. He was thick and scraped every euphoric nerve in your body with his movements. Your muscles burned and twitched with every groan and growl he let out, his mouth right next to your ear. It wasn't long before that delicious pressure built back up within you and snapped with a few well aimed thrusts. You remember the warm feeling spread through you as Kung Lao released inside, both of you too drunk to worry about protection beforehand. You laid in an uncomfortable position on the table until Kung Lao pulled out of you and stumbled to the bathroom. You were able to get up and clean yourself off a little, put your skirt back on, and collapse on the sofa. Which is exactly where Liu Kang found you when he got back. He let you sleep and took you back to your apartment in the morning after giving you some herbal pain remedies.

You didn't feel any different the next day, or the next week. You threw up a few times the day after, which you were sure was because of the amount of alcohol you consumed. A whole month and a half passed before your nosey roommate, Mia, brought up the idea that you might be pregnant. She had been keeping track of every strange thing you had done for the past month. From getting up to go to the bathroom in the night more than usual, to the random mood swings, to falling asleep at your desk, and eating pickles with hot fudge the other day. Not to mention, your period was three weeks late and you hadn't even noticed. Mia wanted answers, for you as well as herself, and had already bought you a pregnancy test which she promptly thrust at you.

Now, staring at the little stick that read 'pregnant' in plain English, it was all starting to hit you. You didn't go to see Kung Lao and Liu Kang very often. Once, maybe twice, a month if you weren't busy, to put it simply: you didn't know what to do. You heard knocking on the bathroom door before you heard Mia's voice. "You ok in there, hun?" You blinked back tears of confusion and answered her. "Yeah, I'm ok." You stuck the test in your pocket and exited the bathroom to find Mia standing right outside the door. "So, what's the verdict?" You didn't say anything and just handed her the stick. "I knew it, so who's the daddy?" You cocked an eyebrow at her blunt question but decided to answer. "One of my best friends," you said quietly. Her eyes widened as she handed the test back to you. "That's gonna be tough, how are you gonna do it?" You frowned. "Do what?" She shrugged, the nonchalant look on her face starting to annoy you. "Tell him, ya'know, that he knocked you up." You looked at the test in your hand, feeling the strong urge to just snap it in half. "I don't know."

~~~~

You waited two more months, deciding not to tell Kung Lao. He and Liu were your best friends, you didn't want anything to ruin that. You couldn't stay away from them forever, they were already wondering why you hadn't come over the last couple times they invited you. You sent them your work over the computer instead of in person, all the information you had been gathering about potential new champions. Just a few days ago Liu had called just to check in on you, thinking you might be sick or injured. You assured him you weren't but you knew you didn't convince him, he could spot a lie from a mile away.

You had started going to the doctor, getting the proper care and tests done to make sure you and the baby were healthy. You even had ultrasound pictures of your little one, that seemed to cement something in your mind. You needed to tell Kung Lao. Sooner rather than later, before you started showing, there was no hiding it then.

You called Liu Kang before you left and asked him if you could come stay at their place for a night or two. That concerned him a little bit but ultimately he was glad that you would be coming to see him and Kung Lao again. You packed for a couple days and drove for a few hours into the woods where the boy's temporary earthrealm residence was. It was secluded back in the woods along a river popular with fishermen in the morning hours. It blended in and allowed the boys to hide in plain sight, mixed in with the few other fishing cabins along the river. No outworld ruffian would look there.

You arrived at the cabin later than you wanted to, having stopped three times to use the restroom along the way. You had tried not to pack your bags that heavy but you needed clothes and you needed all your computer equipment for work. You grabbed the lightest bag you had and went inside, hoping one of the boys would be able to help you with the rest. The door was unlocked, as they had been expecting you, and you walked right in. You entered the living room and found that master Bo Rai Cho was also visiting. He was sat plopped in front of his new favorite thing ever since you introduced him to it, the television. You set your bag on the floor and he took notice of you. "Y/N!" He got out of his chair, fast for a man his size, and strode over, pulling you into a tight hug. "It's good to see you again." You winced in his tight hug until he let go and you smiled at him. "It's good to see you too, Master Cho." He returned the smile and clapped you on the shoulder before walking to an open window. "Liu Kang, your friend has arrived!" He shouted.

It was only a few seconds until Liu Kang came bounding into the room from outside. You smiled at him and he walked over to pull you into a hug, he almost seemed relieved to see you. "It is good to see you again," he said, pulling away. You half smiled and nodded. "It's good to see you too, Liu. Um, you mind helping me unload my stuff?" He agreed without a second thought and walked out to your car with you. You stopped by your trunk and swallowed hard, your muscles tense and nervous. How were you going to tell Kung Lao? "Is Kung Lao here? Usually I'd see him," you commented. Liu grabbed a few of the heavier bags, lifting them with ease. "No, he is out running errands. He should be back in an hour." You sighed and hung your head, not knowing what to think of that. "Is something wrong?" You took a deep breath and looked over at the concerned young man. "Liu, I need to talk to you."

You both unloaded your car before walking down by the river, through the small flower garden they'd planted. You both took a seat on top of the retaining wall, separating the river from the land. "Now, what do you wish to speak to me about?" Liu sat with his legs criss-crossed, perfectly relaxed. You tried sitting the same way but ultimately just dangled your legs over the wall. "Um, I know I haven't visited in a while, and there's a reason for that.." you stared at the water, avoiding eye contact. Though you could see Liu out of the corner of your eye, looking at you with a worried expression. "That night I crashed on your couch...did Kung Lao ever tell you what happened?" You hesitantly looked over at Liu and his eyes fell to the dirt. "Yes, he told me the day after." You looked back at the ground and sighed, Liu reached over and placed his hand on your knee. "There is no need to be ashamed, you were inebriated. Your judgement was clouded, both of yours." You closed your eyes trying to will yourself not to cry. "There's more to it.." you figured you just had to say it and blinked away tears, looking over at Liu who had his head tilted in curiosity. "Liu, I'm pregnant."

His mouth slowly dropped open as his mind processed the information. His gaze dropped to the ground and his reaction just made you feel worse. "I know, I'm sorry," you said. He looked back up at you. "It is not your fault," he squeezed your knee reassuringly, "this is Kung Lao's business now, you need to tell him." You sniffled and a tear managed to escape down your cheek. "I know, when he gets back will you tell him I need to talk to him? Maybe, give him and I some privacy so we can talk it out?" Liu nodded and gave you a small smile, "of course." You could tell Liu was still trying to comprehend what you told him as you both walked back to the house and he helped you settle in. He tried to strike up normal conversation but it was awkward, you felt like an outsider. After a while you offered to clean the place to try and distract yourself and neither of the men objected.

Kung Lao was gone for longer than expected but eventually he came back, Liu took him aside while you unpacked the groceries. You saw them standing in the corner talking though you couldn’t hear their words. You stared for a second and could read Liu’s lips. ‘Talk to her’ he was saying. You tried to calm yourself down and at the same time psyche yourself up for what you had to eventually tell Kung Lao.

You had just finished putting everything away when Kung Lao approached you. “Liu Kang said you needed to speak to me, privately,” he said. His tone was curious this time, not as serious as he usually was. “Yeah, can we..” you trailed off as you motioned outside. He nodded and waved for you to go first. You walked back out to the same spot you and Liu had sat earlier, on the retaining wall by the river. Kung Lao took off his hat and set it next to him, he knew it was easier for you to talk to him without it ever since you said it was distracting and you were staring at it instead of him. He smirked at the memory and looked back at you, waiting for you to speak.

“What did Liu tell you I needed to talk to you about?” You asked, wondering how to start the conversation. “He just said you needed to talk and that it was important,” he answered bluntly. You nodded and fiddled with the ultrasound pictures in your hoodie pocket. You had worn it to hide the tiny bump that had started to form over the last couple days. “Um, about that night a few months ago-” “I’m sorry,” he interrupted, “I know I should not have gone that far. We were both not ourselves that night.” You smirked. “No, I’m not complaining, but there’s more to it..” you sighed. “I’m not sure how to tell you this but..” you could see him becoming worried. You took one of the photos out of your pocket and handed it to him. He looked confused but took the blurry image, trying to figure out what it was. “You got me pregnant.”

His eyes widened and he looked over at you. “I’m sorry,” you said with a sad look on your face. You weren’t sure what compelled you to say it but you felt like you had just ruined someone’s life. You watched him as he stared at the picture, nothing was clearly visible but it must have seemed convincing enough to him. You slipped the pregnancy test out of your pocket and showed it to him too. You heard him sigh and just kept silent, not wanting to interrupt his thoughts. “How far along are you?” he finally asked, his voice scarily cold. “A little over three months,” you answered. You bit your lip before asking a question you needed an answer to. “What are we going to do?” He handed you the test and picture back. “I don’t know.” He said. You were hurt, he had nothing else to say? Your moment was interrupted by Bo Rai Cho calling out that dinner was ready.

Kung Lao helped you up and you walked inside together, he was silent the entire time. You made eye contact with Liu for a split second as you took a seat at the table and his shoulders fell, your expression gave away your emotions. Bo Rai Cho set down the meal, a kind of special fish concoction he had come up with that you normally loved. This time though, it made your stomach turn. The second the aroma hit your nose, nausea hit you badly and you could practically feel the vomit rising in your throat. “I’m sorry, excuse me,” you said quickly before getting up and dashing to the bathroom. You had just enough time to brush your hair out of the way before you emptied your stomach into the toilet.

“What might be wrong with her?” Bo Rai Cho asked. “I didn’t mess it up again, did I?” Liu looked at Kung Lao, his expression urging the other monk to go check on you since this was his doing. But Kung Lao stayed put and just stared back at Liu Kang, his expression unwavering. You could still be heard throwing up in the bathroom down the hall. Liu finally got up and went to check on you. He grabbed a cup of water and a wet cloth to clean off your face. “Lao?” You asked out loud between dry heaving breaths. “No, it’s me,” Liu answered. He kneeled down next to you and rubbed your back until your body finally stopped it’s rejection. “Why didn’t he come?” you asked, sounding defeated. “He does not know how to, right now. He will learn soon," Liu tried to assure you. "He doesn't want any part of this, I know he doesn't," you admitted as you slumped into the corner. Liu handed you the glass of water and watched as you downed it all, thinking. "He will come around, I will talk to him."

You spent the rest of the night in the spare bedroom, hiding and crying. The realization that if Kung Lao didn't help, you'd basically be left alone to raise a child and that idea terrified you. You hoped Liu could talk some sense into him. You loved Kung Lao, only you didn't know how to tell him. The thought of him completely rejecting you because of this was heartbreaking, you wished there was a better solution or any solution at all. Bo Rai Cho felt bad that his cooking had made you sick and made up for it by making you some calming tea and getting you anything you wanted. But the thing you wanted most was Kung Lao back.

You barely slept that night and asked Liu if he could bring your breakfast to your room. You could smell how good it was from your room but you didn't want to get up, you just wanted to hide. Someone knocked on the door and you called out for them to come in. You expected it to be Liu Kang with your breakfast, but Kung Lao had brought it instead. You immediately looked away from him, all the shame and embarrassment coming back. "May I sit?" He asked. You shyly nodded and allowed him to sit on the edge of the bed and hand you your food. "I thought Liu was bringing me breakfast." You wondered out loud. "I wanted to," he said, "I need to apologize for yesterday. I reacted badly." You shrugged. "You reacted normally to shocking news," you replied, slowly starting to eat your food. Kung Lao looked at the floor as he thought about what to say. "I thought about it all last night and...I want to be a part of it. I'm not going to let you do this alone."

Your eyes locked with his and you could see the sincerity in them. You couldn't believe it, your eyes welled up with happy tears. "You're serious? You want to help me?" You questioned. A small smirk came to his face and he took one of your hands in his. "Yes. This is something that will affect us for the rest of our lives. I want to be a part of my child's life." You set your food aside and threw your arms around Kung Lao, hugging him. He was caught off guard but hugged you back. "We can do this," he whispered in your ear. "When is your next doctor appointment, I want to be there." You pulled away just enough to see his face. "Not for another month, are you sure?" He nodded. "I think it's about time I showed up to one," he said with a smirk.

~~~~

You met Kung Lao in the hospital lobby and checked in with him, finally glad to have him with you. It was a lot less embarrassing and anxiety inducing, despite the fact that most people were staring at his hat. He stayed by your side with one hand on the middle of your back protectively all the way up to the correct floor, where you had to check in again.

"I'm here for an ultrasound appointment," you said to the receptionist. "Alright," she said, glancing questionably at Kung Lao. You smirked to yourself, he was intimidating. Nobody would dare fuck with you while Kung Lao was at your side. "And who have you brought with you today?" The woman asked, looking again at Kung Lao. You opened your mouth to speak but he beat you to it. "I'm her boyfriend, and the father," he answered. The woman nodded and went back to her computer. You turned your head to look at him, a huge smile coming to your face. Not wanting to give anything away, Kung Lao just looked at you and winked.

The receptionist got you checked in and you both sat down to wait for your name to be called. You leaned close to him and whispered. "Boyfriend, huh?" He smirked. "It was the only way I could think to tell you," he said, his tone of voice giving away his teasing. You giggled and rested your head on his shoulder, happy when he put his arm around you in return. Your name was called and you both walked back to an exam room. Kung Lao took off his hat and leaned it against the wall, the room was small and he didn't want to accidentally cut anyone.

The nurse took your vitals and asked you a few questions before leaving you and Kung Lao to wait for the doctor. "Can I see it?" You turned to look at him. "See what?" He uncrossed his arms. "The baby." "You will be able to see it on the ultrasound-" he shook his head, interrupting your sentence. "No, your stomach," he clarified. You understood now and laid back on the table, pulling your shirt up to expose your stomach. Now on month five, your bump was getting increasingly hard to hide.

"Can I touch?" He asked. You nodded with a smile, his curiosity and interest was adorable. Kung Lao placed his hand on your stomach and after a moment he began to rub it around. A sudden discomfort peaked in your stomach area and you looked at Kung Lao, who was as surprised as you. "Was that.." you put your hand on your stomach right next to his and after a couple seconds the discomforting, tiny jolt happened again. "It's kicking!" You beamed, “this is the first time I’ve ever felt it.” Kung Lao took your free hand in his, the look on his face seemed genuinely happy this time. “That was the most amazing thing I’ve ever felt,” he said. “Besides the night we made this happen, that is.” You let out an actual laugh, there was the Kung Lao you knew.

The doctor came in and set you all up for the ultrasound. Kung Lao waited impatiently by your side. “The gender should be visible if the baby cooperates, would you like to know?” The doctor asked. You exchanged looks with Kung Lao and came to a conclusion. “Yes, we would like to know,” Kung Lao answered. The doctor nodded and Kung Lao held your hand as the doctor moved the device around your gel covered stomach. The doctor let you both see the screen as they looked around, pointing out things and details that made no sense to you. As long as the baby was healthy that was all that mattered to you.

The doctor finally removed the device and handed you tissue to wipe off your skin. “Looks like he’s all good in there, just stick to what you’re doing and take it easy,” the doctor said. You smiled, “he?” You looked at Kung Lao who looked back at you with a smile. “We’re having a baby boy..” Kung Lao didn’t think, he just pulled you into a tight hug. He’d never been happier in his life. He was going to be a father to a little boy, one he could teach everything he knew, one he could get his own little hat. Everything would be perfect. He kissed your cheek. “I can’t wait to tell Liu Kang.”

[lonely-lost-soul]

Under the Floorboards (Pt. VII)

(Technoblade X Reader) Pt. I, Pt. II, Pt. III, Pt. IIII, Pt. V, Pt. VI, Pt. VII

     Your eyes cracked open as soon as the sunlight spilled into the room, your eyebrows furrowed together and a hiss of pain spilled from your lips. You brought your arm in front of your face to block out the sun, Technoblade should've closed the curtains the asshole. As you pulled your hand away from your face you couldn't help but pause, a delicate golden band with a blue diamond sat on your ring finger. You sat up in surprise, immediately buckling in on yourself pain radiating through your abdomen. You licked your cracked lips before uttering a simple,

     "Ah fuck."

Something stirred next to the bedside, you turned your head in the direction of the sound, Technoblade was draped over the side of the bed. His hair was a rat's nest, sticking up at odd angles and ends, frizzing out in all directions. Drool was stuck to the bottom of his chin, his hands gripped the sheets tightly, his eyes screwed shut. He looked upset like he was having a bad dream. Looking around the room briefly, you noticed his robe and crown were hung up in the closet, food was left half-eaten on the vanity. How long had you been out? Trying to make as little noise as possible you slowly peered out the window, outside you saw a little shack built into the mountain. You must've been out a while if Technoblade is letting someone ruin his real estate value like that. Blinking in surprise you saw Ranboo emerge from underneath a hole, a smile spread across your lips as he paused and looked up at the window. You gave a small wave, his mouth appeared and his jaw dropped, he began to wave back enthusiastically before charging through the snow towards your home in a sprint. You knew you only had a few moments before the lanky boy burst up into the room, you carded your fingers softly through Technoblade's hair, you've never seen him in such a dead sleep. Normally, your stirring and movements would've woken him up minutes ago. Maybe Phil give him something to knock him out? That's a very likely answer.

     "Bubba's..." You cooed tenderly kissing his forehead, "Time to wake up." You felt him shift, his face scrunching up uncomfortably as his eyes blinked open. Dark bags were prominent as he grumbled in displeasure until his eyes focused completely on you, he sat up swiftly and grabbed your face. "Ow, gentler please."

    "You're awake." His voice quivered as he began stroking your face and cheeks, "You're actually okay." You tilted your head to the side in concern, his usual stern eyes filling with tears, "I thought you were dead." Technoblade held you close burying his face into your chest, his nails digging into your back. All you did was rub his shoulders and let him hold you like you were porcelain glass. "You were out for a week, Phil helped me tend to your wounds." He said after a few moments of silence, "NEVER do that to me again."

    "I can't make any promises but I don't plan on it." You smiled as he pulled away from you, his eyes still red from reluctant tears. Techno leaned forward to press a passionate kiss to your lips, his hands cupped your cheeks as he kissed you like it was his last moments with you. You saw fireworks erupt in your vision and you visibly melted into it, pressure you didn't know you had was suddenly lifted off your shoulders.

     "Oh my god. I'm-I'm sorry." Ranboo sputtered, throwing open the door and tossing his hands over his eyes frantically. Techno practically threw you across the room, the only thing keeping you from falling over was his tail that had wrapped around your waist during your kissing session. His entire face was bright red,

    "Kid what the heck." He groaned, "Knock please."

     "Sorry I was just excited, I saw she was awake from the window." Ranboo rubbed the back of his neck, as he looked at the two of you.

     "Aw, were you worried about me?" A smile came across your face as the boy blushed furiously under your gaze, one cheek was bright red and the other was a bright green just like his eyes. He hesitantly bobbed his head in a nod and a soft, motherly look spread across your face. Technoblade saw the look you gave the teenager of the corner of his eye and his heart turned to mush in a matter of seconds, these kids were gonna be the death of you. "I'm sorry to have worried you, but look I'm a-ok now!" A smile spread across Ranboo's lips as he walked further into the room,

     "Well, that's a relief." He sat cross-legged on the floor smiling up at both of you, Technoblade sighed and ruffled his hair. His eyes widened looking up at the blade, little stars seemed to dance in his heterochromatic orbs.

    "Thanks for looking out for her. I'm sure Phil told you but you saved her life, I owe you one. I don't take that lightly." Technoblade nodded at him with a serious look on his features as he took his hand off of Ranboo's head. Ranboo looked shell shocked at the genuine honesty of your boyfriend, "Now never mention this to anybody or I'll kill you." The look of awe on his face fell immediately and it turned into a sheepish smile, his shoulders slumping forward.

    "There it is," Ranboo sighed. You couldn't help but let out a joyous laugh at the interaction, both men turned to look at you and grinned at one another, they were both happy to see you laughing.

    "So when did you move in with us?" You asked Ranboo with a hum gently stroking the top of Technoblades head once again. He had to bite his lip to keep from letting out a happy sigh, he hadn't felt your hand in his hair in so long could you really blame him? Ranboo looked thoughtful for a moment his eyebrows furrowing, he rubbed his claws together like he was searching for the answer.

    "Sorry I- oh! The day after you all blew up L'manberg again Phil came to me and asked if I had a place to stay. I obviously didn't have a place to stay anymore." He gave an awkward laugh, "So here I am."

     "Well, we are certainly happy to have you with us. Right Techno?"

    "Ehhh," You glared at him sharply and he held up his hands. "He's gotta prove himself first Princess you can't blame me for being on edge."

    "Eh, that's fair. Still, I'm just happy to be here." Ranboo beamed brightly unfazed by Technoblade's hesitance, something told him that Technoblade really didn't mind him living on his property. "Oh, I'll contact Phil and let him know you're alright! He'll probably want to know about your condition, yeah that's what I'll do."

Reaching out you took Ranboo's hand as he went to stand, he looked a little surprised as he stared at you. "You ever need anything, please don't hesitate to talk to me, I know that what happened was traumatizing. So please, I'm here for you if you need me." His ears seemed to press back against his head, his eyes widened considerably.

     "Thank you." He practically yelled pulling away from you to scurry out the door, he was completely and utterly flustered by your kind words. It reminded you so much of Technoblade when you first met him you couldn't help but smirk at him. He raised an eyebrow at you a frown gracing his features,

    "What?"

     "He acts exactly like you. He's going to fit in great here." Technoblalde looked at you like you had three heads,

     "Ya know, I can't believe I ever missed hearing your voice."

    "Oh fuck you." You gently cupped his chin and kissed the corner of his mouth, "I loved and missed you too you big lug." Technoblade closed his eyes and smiled adoringly at your gentle caresses, "So..." You whispered softly in his ear, "what's with the ring?" He tensed in your hold and you felt his forehead hit your shoulder.

    "An...an engagement ring." He admitted quietly, your eyes lit up and a smile spread across your lips. You hummed in response and began to pet his hair soothingly,

    "I thought a certain pig said that we'd only get married if I didn't get hurt."

     "Yeah well whoever that was sounds super cringe. Imagine basing a marriage on something like that. Men am I right?" It got a giggle out of you and he pulled away to flash you a smile, his large hand cupped your cheek and you snuggled into it.

You nodded your head, "Can't live with them clearly. Since all they do is lie." Technoblade nodded with a straight face, "but in all seriousness this for real? Cause like I'm totally gonna make out with you if it is."

     "Oh, it's super for real then."

    "Stop I'm being serious!" You whacked him lightly in the chest,

     "It's for real," His face lost its teasing smirk as you both locked eyes. "I'm head over heels for you (Y/N). You make me so happy, you're the only one in my life who makes me feel...feel normal," You watched his eyebrows furrow, "I knew I loved you and I knew that you were it for me." Technoblade sighed and leaned back picking up your hand and interlocking it with his own. You couldn't help but notice the golden band on his left hand, it mirrored your feminine ring perfectly. "When you were dying, or when I thought you were dying all I could think about was that we never got married. That we couldn't blow more governments up together or go on adventures. So yes, it's for real, I want to marry you officially if you want a small wedding we can do that if you don't want a wedding at all I don't care. I just wanna be yours forever."

Your heart fluttered in your chest and butterflies flew around in your stomach. As brutally honest as he always was he was more than a little emotionally stunted, you knew this was hard for him. You leaned forward and kissed him, it was long and passionate, you felt his fingers curl around your hair. As you pulled away you felt him try to chase your lips with a frustrated whine,

    "I wanna be yours forever Techno. You're everything I ever wanted in life, I've never been happier than when I'm by your side. All my life I've been a wanderer, going from place to place, never really having a home. You gave me the one thing no one has and it's exactly that, a home. Plus, you're so feral which is so hot." You added just to watch his face scrunch up and you felt him push you down against the pillows.

    "You ruined the moment. I changed my mind, the wedding is off." He huffed with no real feeling behind the words, "you should rest."

    "I've been resting. Help me get up I wanna go outside." You scoffed with an eye roll swinging your legs over the side of the bed. You noticed your ankle was wrapped in a tight bandage, you frowned wincing as you tried to put pressure on it. "Fuck, how long am I going to have to wear this?"

     "At least a month is what Phil said, we need to make sure there is no lingering damage. Can't have my anarchist wife not be able to cause trouble with me."

     "Oh? I'm still allowed to cause trouble with you?"

     "Obviously. Especially since I'm getting you a totem of undying just to cover all my bases." Technoblade stood up helping you to your feet, "you're doing great Princess, let's see if we can make it out front." You gave him a tentative smile as the both of you slowly made your way down the ladders and outside. You never thought you'd miss the cold winter weather stinging your cheeks but here you were. "Cold?"

    "Only a little." You smiled up at him and felt his cloak drape around your shoulders, he must've grabbed it before you left the room. You buried your face into the pure white fluff at the top and closed your eyes, it smelled like Technoblade and that brought you comfort. He usually smelled like gunpowder, shampoo, and cedarwood, it was by far your favorite smell. Technoblade's hand wrapped around your waist and pulled you flush against him. The both of you just stood there enjoying the flurries of snow as they fell down around you, his thumb gently brushing against your hip bone.

After a while of peaceful silence, Technoblade seemed to grow restless his gentle brushing turned into inconsistent taping, eventually, he pulled you in front of him only to begin to sway with you in your arms. "You getting bored?" You looked up at him and reached to cup his cheek in your hand, he hummed pleasantly at the contact.

     "A little."

     "Aw, my poor baby," You cooed and he grumbled under his breath at the sarcastic tone your voice took. "Kidding, don't get pouty I'm messing with you, if you want I can read to you? Or do your hair cause it's...a mess."

     "You mean you aren't head over heels in love with this unwashed rat's nest?"

     "Unwashed." Your nose scrunched you and he smirked wickedly, "I know that look. Don't you fucking dare-" You let out a shriek as Technoblade began to rub his head against your cheek, making his hair fall over your shoulders. "TECHNO! TECHNOBLADE YOU ASSHOLE STOP IT RIGHT NOW!"

     "What? I'm being loveable and soft. Is this not what you want?" He purred holding you tighter against him as you wiggled in his arms trying to break free of his vice-like grip.

You growled at him, "NO! You dick!" Technoblade could only snicker at your dismay but pulled away from you per your request.

    "I'll go shower," He pulled away to scratch at his head "want me to set you up by the fireplace? I'll meet you there when you're done?"

    "As long as you shower I'll do whatever," You huffed and he snickered picking you up to carry you inside the house. "Stinky pigman," His face shifted into the said creature and he poked you with his nose. You rolled your eyes as he sat you down on a chair, reaching up you scratched his snout, he made a dulcet sound before pecking the side of your head. The fire popped and crackled as the heat warmed your frozen cheeks. Snowflakes melted in your hair making you shiver from the brief chill they let off, closing your eyes you took in a deep breath of air.

Married, you couldn't believe you were actually getting married...to the man of your dreams no less. You held up your hand in front of you and traced the delicate details on the band, you felt at peace, this wedding needed to happen as soon as possible. You barely wanted to waste any more time, god knows what could happen in the next coming months, who was going to come and try to kill the both of you again. You'd have to mention it to Technoblade when he came back to see if he was okay with basically eloping. You stretched like a cat snuggling into the cushions, you'd have to get a dress though because you're not showing up to your own wedding in Netherite armor. Floorboards creaked above your head signaling Technoblade was out of the shower and getting ready to come to greet you downstairs.

You turned away from the sound, your lips pressing into a thin line as you let out a shaky breath. Tommy had been discovered under the floorboards of this very house after the rough start you had bonded with the rambunctious teen and wanted to keep him safe. Obviously, everyone knew how that ended, a part of you hoped you weren't projecting that lost care onto Ranboo. It wouldn't be fair to Ranboo if you treated him like another Tommy, the child you wish you could've helped.

Twirling your fingers around your (h/c) hair you only delve deeper into those thoughts. You wanted to help Ranboo, you wanted to help all the kids, the trauma they all have gone through had to be tremendous. Ranboo living on the property was a start, away from the crater of a failed country and anyone who would want to hurt him. You were going to protect him, this wasn't going to end up like Tommy's betrayal, you'd make sure of it.

TINK

Technoblade would probably call you insane if you mentioned this plan to him, but then again he was never one to feel pity or sympathy for those he didn't consider family. Even so, you hoped this boy would open up to you and consider you a parental figure in his life. Hopefully, Technobalde would warm up to him as well, you both all could be a little family.

TINK

Okay...maybe that was jumping the gun. You barely know him, for all you know he could secretly be helping Dream as a double agent or something. Okay, (Y/N) now you ARE being insane that's absurd.

TINK, TINK

What the FUCK was that sound. You turned to the window and could only make out a little smiley face in the corner of the glass, for some reason unease settled in your stomach. Where did that come from?

    "Princess?" His sonorous voice filled the room crashing over you like a wave of clarity amongst the ever-growing fog of your mind.

You jolted in your seat before turning towards your fiance, "Hi bubbas."

    "Hallo," Technoblade was shirtless his scars on full display as well as his muscles. One was way more important than the other to you, you can guess which one. His pajama pants sat loosely on his hips as he wandered over to sit in front of you, his head resting between your thighs. You had to hold back a giggle at the pleased look on his features, his hands came up, giving them a soft squeeze.

     "You having fun?"

Yes. OBVIOUSLY. You could crush our head with those thighs, so yes. So soft. We need to stay here forever.

     "They're okay," He replied casually as your fingers carded through his pink hair. "I definitely don't want you to try crushing a watermelon."

     "Oh my god." Your shoulders began to shake and you placed your forehead on top of his own, he only smiled softly. Your laughter was sweet and made him think of a small little bell chiming in the air.

     "You're gonna braid my hair now right?"

     "Obviously."

    "Thank you, Princess."

You were a little taken aback by his genuine tone, there was no hint of sarcasm or his usual teasing voice.

You love him more than all the stars in the sky.

He looked up at you with his big red eyes, as you began massaging his scalp. He let out a throaty moan, his eyes fluttering closed at the feeling of your blunt nails on his scalp. "Jesus Princess, you're a goddess."

     "As long as you never say I rival Aphrodite you can call me a goddess all you want." He laughed and nodded his head,

     "You have yourself a deal."

     "I can't wait to marry you as soon as possible."

     "You're really obsessed with me huh? You a fangirl? That's a little creepy not gonna lie."

     "Oh, I'm your BIGGEST fan. I live in your house and sleep in your bed."

    "Cringe," You rolled your eyes dramatically but pecked his lips stroking his cheek with your thumb.

    "Seriously though, can it happen as soon as we can."

    "How do three days from now sound? Just so we can plan properly and gather some things we need- if you want a like actually wedding." You nodded eagerly,

     "Yes, please. That's all I need."

    "Then it's settled."

The smile on your face was all he needed to know he made the right decision not only in marrying you but rushing the wedding,...three days. Oh shit, he was gonna be a husband in three days. The voices in his head collective said one phrase,

We're fucked.

~~~

Hi guys! Thanks for all the love for my story! Have fun with this chapter, a Karlnapity x reader might be in the works next. Not that this story is over, after all there’s still a wedding to attend. 

ALSO please go read my friend quackity-love-bot’s new fic! Here’s the link: https://quackity-love-bot.tumblr.com/post/642241693382557696/skyfall

Enjoy ;)

[mercy-burning]

Fake Fiancée - Part 3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!Reader Summary: Reader and Spencer write letters back and forth, both of them slowly starting to fall in deeper. Category: Smut (18+) Content Warnings: Strong language, sexual themes, masturbation (male and female), sexting, face sitting Word Count: 6.3k

PART 1 | PART 2 | PART 3 | PART 4

MASTERLIST

NOTE: Hello!! Sorry this has been so long in the making, but for a while my inspiration for this story absolutely disappeared, and then I tried to think of how to bridge the previous chapters to the final one with absolutely no luck. And then I re-read Part 2 and got stuck on the letter, thus this chapter was born! I didn’t want to drag this miniseries out any longer than 4 parts, and the letter format combined with other inner monologuing and description really allowed me to do that in an interesting way that hopefully doesn’t feel rushed! 

It was so much fun and very refreshing to write. I hope you like how it turned out!

Thank you all for being so patient while I get my shit together 😅 Love you guys! Enjoy 🥰

***

We've been sending letters back and forth for about a month now.

If I'm being honest, it took me about two weeks to decide whether or not I actually wanted to send one back, but could you blame me?

Here was this guy I couldn't stop thinking about after a one-night stand, only for him to catch me—months later at the same exact bar we'd met in—flirting with his friend. And then after our sexual encounter that night, all the things we said, the connection I thought we had, all of it...

He left it all behind the next morning, only to send me a letter in the mail.

I was pissed.

Sure, it was a nice letter, but the fact that he'd reduced what we had down to a piece of paper and scribbled ink had made me angrier than I cared to admit.

In retrospect, I may have overreacted.

Over time I started re-reading his words, and the more I thought about it all, the more I started to regret my anger. And more than anything, I just wanted to see him again. I couldn't stay mad at him, not when all I could picture was his pouty face and nervous hands. His sunbeam of a smile peeked through the clouds of my anger here and there, and the longer it settled, the more it bathed me in a warm light that should have made me happy. But all it did was make me long for him.

Once I'd actually started writing that first letter back, I wondered why I hadn't jumped on the opportunity in the first place. I mean, after all the cliché shit we'd experienced in our short relationship thus far, adding love letters to the mix was just as perfect as you could get, right?

Spencer,

I'm sorry it's taken me this long to finally write you back. Truthfully I wasn't sure I wanted to write you at all, but your letter kept drawing me back in. I couldn't stop re-reading it, imagining you sitting down somewhere and contemplating every word as you wrote them down. I wondered if you'd thrown out hundreds of pieces of paper after messing up when you could have just as well typed out a letter without wasting them.

And then by that point, all I could think about was just you.

I always pictured what your living room looks like, or your kitchen table, or your office, or wherever you sit down to write. I wondered if you looked like one of those hopeless writers in the movies that have a scruffy face, coffee stains on their white tee shirts, and messy hair that hasn't been washed in days due to lack of inspiration.

But in the end, the image that won out over all the others was just you as I remember.

I'm not going to lie, that image most of the time was your body above mine while I held my hand to your throat, but for the sake of romance I guess I should probably tell you what it was every other time— the outfit you were wearing the first time we met.

When I think of you, I think of your hand nervously clutching that beer bottle for dear life and the other one occasionally pushing your glasses up your nose. I think of your eyes every time they'd look away from me, probably to keep yourself from staring too long.

But the thing that always gets me the most is your smile— even when it comes in little flashes, after you've said something you probably thought was lame. You covered it up with that perfect smile.

I've dreamt of that smile nearly every night since I met you, and I wouldn't be opposed to seeing it in person again.

I'd love to meet you for dinner some time.

But since you did manage to "more or less abandon me twice now", I think it's only fair that you make it up to me first.

Make the next letter a good one, and we'll see what happens.

Yours, Y/N

P.S. I hope my handwriting is as pretty as you hoped. I'd hate to disappoint.

***

Y/N,

I'm incredibly grateful that you've given me a chance to redeem myself. Every night since I last saw you has also been spent wondering what your house looks like on the inside... What you looked like reading my letter (perhaps at your kitchen table?)

And this might sound silly, but I've also wondered what your bedroom looks like. You may be laughing at me, because I've been in your bedroom, but in my defense I was a bit preoccupied to really take notice of my surroundings— I was simply surrounded by you.

But since I've been to your home, I figured it was only fair that I invite you to mine, possibly for dinner. I don't know how to cook much— in fact I'm pretty awful at making anything that's not a can of Spaghetti-Os... But one of my co-workers is an excellent chef, and with a recipe from him and some practice under my belt, I'm sure I can pull it off.

But by "some" practice, I mean probably weeks or months of practice. So hopefully that gives you ample time to mull it over.

Perhaps in the meantime we can get to know each other through our letters. And who's to say, it might spare us the awkward "getting to know each other" stage of a first date. Though, pretty much every stage of every date is awkward for me, so it might not help at all.

Regardless, I'm very much looking forward to hearing from you again.

I do get called away for work quite often, however. So I apologize in advance if I can't get back to you as soon as I'd like.

But in any instance, you're still welcome to text message or call me. I know it isn't as romantic or personal as handwritten letters, but it's certainly practical.

Yours, Spencer.

P.S. Your handwriting is just as beautiful as I'd imagined it would be. And you could never disappoint me.

That being said, if you somehow decide that this letter wasn't up to your standards and reject my offer, I may just find myself in the deepest despair imaginable.

***

I was definitely way too in my head about this.

It was just a text. Sure, it was a risky text to send, but I had no doubt in my mind that it would be fine in the end.

So why was my stomach churning just thinking about sending it?

Some might have chalked it up to my fat ol' crush on Spencer, but I knew it ran deeper. It had to do at least a little with my history with Patrick... The man stood me up and sent divorce papers to my place of work rather than to my face... And as much as I liked to think I was completely over it, we'd been together for years, and it really did a number on me.

I didn't want to ruin this new thing with Spencer so badly that I was overthinking everything.

So even though I could see his face opening the text, my heart doing jumps at the mere thought of it, a bigger part of me worried that it would be a step too far in the wrong direction. I didn't want him to think I was only in this for... sexual reasons. Which, don't get me wrong, have been pretty damn great so far, but I really did want to get to know him and see where this went.

In the end I decided to hold off. I settled for something a little lighter.

Spencer,

Don't feel too bad about your cooking skills. I've been through my fair share of burnt frozen pizzas to know how you're feeling. So the fact that you've given yourself the opportunity to practice and learn a recipe just for me is extremely romantic, and I appreciate the thought.

I won't stop you from following through, though I'm telling you now that no amount of slaving away in the kitchen will make me change my mind about you. We could probably eat stale crackers on the floor and I'd still find you utterly fascinating.

Maybe that's a bit too extreme, but I hope you get my point.

Anyway, I'd love to come over for dinner some time. Whenever you think you're ready to show me those improved cooking skills, you just let me know and I'll happily make my way over.

In the meantime, I'm thinking of sending more with my letters. I don't want to give away too much, but I will say that I'm very crafty. And don't feel like you need to send anything in return, though I'll let you know if I ever change my mind.

Yours,

Y/N

***

In the bottom right corner of the letter, right next to her signature, was a red lipstick stain in the shape of... well, her lips. It was common sense to know that they were hers and no one else's, not just a stamp or a drawing, and rather her actual lip stain... But even without it, I would have been able to tell by their shape.

Was that pathetic?

I could hear her, picture her in front of me, hovering above me with red-painted lips in the shape of a smirk, visibly cooing as she called me names... I could feel the ghost of her fingertips trailing up my throat and tilting my chin up to look at her as she rocked her hips teasingly into mine...

The whine I let out truly was pathetic.

You pathetic, needy little thing, I could hear her say...

My hands clutched the paper so tightly I thought I'd tear it, but it didn't matter when all I could see while staring at it was her luscious, red lips... Her voice was right there in my ear, like she was really beside me, watching me...

Oh, God, what would she do if she saw me right now? Staring at her lipstick stained paper and subconsciously grinding down into my chair...

You pathetic, needy little thing...

My hips jolted with a small, broken shout of her name, and in no time the front of my pants were flooded with warmth. I felt her eyes burning into me from the void, sparking to life with amusement as her voice crept into the deep corners of my brain and whispered praises to me.

Ohh, what a good little whore... Getting off to the thought of me... That's it, sweet boy... Come for me...

By now my eyes had squeezed shut and the letter was crumpled in my hand, the other reaching down to add much-appreciated burning friction to my crotch as I rode out my orgasm. My whole body tensed and shuddered at every sensation, from Y/N's image behind my eyes to the sweet warmth that pooled in my underwear and soaked through onto my hand.

Holy mother of—

The next time I saw her, I was screwed. I wouldn't be able to keep a straight face. I'd surely go red the second I laid eyes on her, and she'd know right away what I was thinking and feeling.

Simply put, it scared and excited me at the same time.

She'd utterly and thoroughly wrecked me, and if she didn't already know it, she certainly would soon.

Y/N,

I'm not sure what you intend to send in addition to your letters, but if it's anything near the sentiment of your lip stain, then you might have to refrain in favor of my poor, fragile heart.

See, it aches for you. It's bad enough I think of you always, but the moment I saw the shape of your lips on that letter, my heart almost shot straight out of my chest. Maybe it was the familiar shape of your lips or the implications of its place next to your name, signed after the word 'yours', that sent me into a tailspin, but whatever the case...

I'm pretty sure I've completely fallen under your spell.

I suppose I should also tell you that my heart wasn't the only part of my body that came to life at your added signature. I assure you, it took no time at all for me to come undone at the thought of your lips pressing gently against the paper, imagining that they were instead pressing to my skin... I didn't even have to touch myself, really. It just happened. Because of you and you alone.

I hope that wasn't too forward, but I felt it necessary that you know just how much of an effect you have on me.

If I could see you again in a millisecond, it wouldn't be soon enough.

That being said, I am determined to spend as much time as possible to perfect this dish for our dinner. Because you deserve nothing but the best, even if you insist that you could settle for less.

It's the least I can do.

Yours, Spencer.

And a week and a half later, when I didn't get a letter back on time, I was sure I'd messed up for good.

My mind was racing a mile a minute, yelling at myself for even thinking for a second of being that detailed in a letter without any consent. Sure, she'd taken it a step up by signing off her letter with a kiss, but I'd been absolutely idiotic in telling her that I got off to it.

I was honestly well and truly prepared to show up at her house with a big bouquet of flowers and an apology so wordy and probably too long for anyone's liking, in hopes that she'd forgive me for making this huge mistake.

Thankfully, though, it wasn't needed.

My phone chimed as I was pacing, my lip near bloody with how hard I'd been chewing at it, and I saw an unknown number attached to a text message and photo attachment.

The photo wouldn't load (I would have to plug it into my laptop and transfer the image there to see it— a fact which always irked Penelope to the core), but with the sentences I saw above the file, I almost knew exactly what I'd find when I had the means to see it.

There. Now we're even... Who says text messages can't be romantic and personal? XXX, Y/N

I felt like Bambi as I scrambled to my laptop three rooms over, stumbling over weak legs with my phone clutched tightly in my hand. My heart raced faster than it ever had as I started everything up and retrieved the right cord for my phone. With a few shakes and stumbles here and there, I briefly entertained the idea of upgrading my phone.

I probably would have left the apartment to do it immediately after seeing her photo attachment, but the moment it loaded up on my screen, my brain and body lost all ability to function properly.

A familiar burn coursed through the lower half of my body and tightened my chest at the sight of her, open and exposed and... wet.

My laptop screen was completely taken over by the image of Y/N's pussy, visibly glistening and aroused. A manicured hand—her hand— was in frame as well, middle finger resting snugly between the supple skin of her wet lips.

The fact that I only tasted her once felt downright cruel.

I tried to imagine it again— my face buried between the softness of her thighs. As much as I wanted to lay her down and indulge myself as long as possible, taking all the time in the world to slowly devour her and truly explore her for myself, what ran through my mind then was something more in the vein of our dynamic thus far.

My mind wandered, specifically to a place where I was the one laying down as she sat down directly onto my face and gave me what she thought I deserved. My hands were tied to the bed, maybe handcuffed. All I knew was that I couldn't touch her, and it bothered me. So I whined, and every time the sound left my mouth, she would let up, lifting further out of reach and causing me to instinctively reach my head up to chase her.

You greedy little slut... Take what I give you...

Desperately seeking her approval, I told her I'd be good and rejoiced when she lowered herself down to me again, allowing me to me completely wrapped up in her once more. My tongue lapped and lapped, gathering as much of her as I could before she'd inevitably leave again.

But she never did.

Somehow I kept my quiet, even though it was extremely difficult, and ate her out like my life depended on it. She glided smoothly over my face, coating more than just my lips in her arousal, and it thrilled me to my very core.

Every time I breathed in I could smell her, every time she groaned out my name my stomach fluttered, and it wasn't long before she was clutching my hair, shaking above me while I drank her in and repressed my whines.

My hips were uncontrollable though, bucking up into nothing and begging for any type of stimulation.

But then suddenly it was there— Her hand, firmly wrapping around my dick and gliding over it beautifully with a slickness that she must have transferred from her pussy. I could still taste her as I cried out her name, her movements quickening with every second until—

I didn't even realize I was actually alone until my eyes opened, cum coating my hand, my heartbeat heavy and loud, and the laptop screen in front of me a shade darker signaling a long period of inactivity.

I'd done it again...

And now we most certainly were not even.

I glanced over at my phone—plugged into the laptop—and then down at my lap, and my stomach knotted as my next move rang clear as day.

***

I woke up the next morning to texts from Spencer, and my heart picked up speed, a gentle warmth blooming through my chest at the sight.

I thought maybe he'd thank me for the photo I'd sent. Maybe he'd return it with an influx of messages along the lines of Oh my god, Holy fuck I miss you, and the like.

But what I wasn't expecting was to see a photo in return, of his hand that I'd dreamt of nearly nightly, wrapped firmly around his cock and all of it completely covered in cum.

Below the photo were three messages in a row, and each one gave me more butterflies than the last.

Sorry for low quality. No smartphone.

Also sorry we're not even anymore.

But I'm not sorry I did it- you're too perfect to resist.

***

Dearest Y/N,

I'm sorry you haven't gotten a letter from me in a while. And I know we've kept in touch through texting and calling while I was swamped at work, though now that I have some time off, I'd love to write you again. As much as I enjoy our virtual conversations, I still find sending letters to be my preferred method of communication (only second to speaking with you in person, that is).

Which brings me to the main point I'm trying to make.

I want to see you again. In person. I'm not completely confident in my cooking ability yet, but if you wouldn't mind the potential of it tasting awful, I'd love to have you over. I promise you nothing but the best, and I know that's a high promise, especially considering I probably haven't sold you on the meal, but it's true.

I'd do anything to please you.

And I really do mean 'anything', I hope you understand that.

Yours, Spencer.

***

The thought of seeing him in person again after so long made my hands way shakier than I would have liked. It made no sense the longer I thought about it, because it was obvious that we liked each other, and seeing each other in person wouldn't be a problem. Because it'd never been a problem before.

It irked me.

Still, I knocked on his door and physically shook out my hands, praying I could keep my cool when he finally opened the door.

But I should have known better.

One second I was staring at a large plank of wood, and the next I was staring into frantic eyes, golden and sparkling just as I remembered, but with an added glimmer of fear that matched the shakiness of my hands.

I don't know how long we stood there, just staring at each other, but the longer we did, the more we relaxed. His fear was gone, and the shaking in my hands turned into a dull hum that longed to reach out for him.

Still, I refrained, settling on a simple, "Hey, pen pal..."

By the way he looked at me, silent as ever, I started to wonder if that was a stupid thing to lead with. So I opened my mouth to apologize, to say anything else, but he beat me to it.

"Y/N... I... H—Hi, you look... incredible."

"O—Oh, thanks... Thank you, yeah, I um... figured I should... dress up a little. I know we're not going out anywhere, but I thought it might be nice."

He doesn't need to know that, Y/N, stop talking!

I gave him a small smile and a nervous laugh in an attempt to stop myself, hating how I was so nervous around him.

Spencer didn't seem to mind, though. He let me in and closed the door behind me as I quickly glanced around his apartment. It was littered with greens and browns, books everywhere, and I'd never felt more at home.

"Is it, uh... What you expected?"

"Hmm?" I turned to meet him, his soft voice pulling me from my wandering eyes.

"My apartment."

"Oh! Yeah, it's very you... I love it."

The compliment had his cheeks turning pink, and there was nothing I wanted to do more than kiss them over and over again.

And just like that, once again we were caught just staring at each other. I didn't know what he was thinking, and honestly, I didn't know what I was thinking either. All I knew in that moment was that Spencer Reid was standing right in front of me, close enough to touch, and I wanted to give in.

I was so wrapped up in the idea of feeling him that I almost didn't hear him speak. I wouldn't have heard him at all had it not been for his lips moving.

"I'm sorry, I haven't started dinner yet..."

"That's okay," I reassured. Or, at least I tried to. Really, though, I think it sounded more like I was uninterested in what he was saying, my voice flat and lifeless as I continued to stare at him.

Suddenly we were closer, and I had to look up higher to see his face, butterflies swarming in my stomach at the way he looked down at me.

"You're sure?"

"Mhm."

"I can start it now if you're getting hungry."

Food isn't what I'm hungry for, is what I thought. I almost said it, too, because he was even closer now, his hands coming out to touch mine. If they were humming before, they were certainly blaring with life now, growing hot under his light touch. And it took everything I had not to look down, because it had been too damn long since I'd seen his hands in person, and I wanted them on me immediately.

He could tell, too. He could sense my urgency, feel the longing radiating off my presence, and I knew this because I could feel his, too. His eyes practically dared me to say what I was thinking, and so I did.

"Don't you dare."

It was hard to tell who moved in first, but it really didn't matter.

I was here, in his apartment, feeling his lips glide over mine with reckless abandon, and that's all that mattered.

His hands gripped my waist so tightly I would have thought he was trying to hold me in place, to make sure I wasn't ever going to leave his sight again. And if that was the case, I would have let him hold me there forever.

My hands, meanwhile, clutched at his hair, forcing myself closer and closer to him with every sharp tug. I reveled in the way he whined into my mouth with every little thing I did, whether it was a tug of the hair or a roll forward of the hips, or even a swipe of my tongue over his.

He was putty in my hands yet again, and just like every time before, it turned me into a fucking goner.

Being with Spencer wasn't like anything I'd ever known. And the only other thing I'd known was Patrick. He didn't want me, not really, and even though he was good to me in the beginning, it was never like this.

I didn't come over to his apartment with shaking hands. I didn't send him fucking love letters almost weekly, and I certainly didn't get kissed like this...

Spencer was drunk on me, and I wasn't any sober myself.

"That picture you sent me..." I mumbled over his lips, still keeping myself as close as I could while I got out what I needed to say. "Where did you take that?"

We kissed for a few more seconds, unable to stay apart, before he answered, his voice just as breathy and brimming with desperation as mine. "My office. Just down the hall."

I kissed him again, hard, and then pulled back to look him in the eyes. They widened when I said, "Show me."

He dragged me through the apartment on rushed legs, and I almost laughed at the urgency, only stopped by the realization that I was just as urgent. It occurred to me that perhaps my laughing at his urgency might just be a slight turn on for him, given our history with my playful degradation, but still I pulled back— Tonight felt... different.

It didn't feel like we were headed in the direction of me calling him my dirty little whore throughout the night, and it was something I was more than okay with. In fact, I welcomed it, excited to see where this new night would take us.

We ended up in his office, which remained more or less the same aesthetic as the rest of his place. In the middle sat a small desk with a laptop and some papers scattered about on it, accompanied by a tall floor lamp and a rolling desk chair.

"Where were you exactly?" I mused, gripping his hand tightly and buzzing at the way his fingers flexed against my own.

"In the chair... I pulled the photo up on my laptop."

"Right. No smartphone."

Spencer hummed in confirmation before dragging me along to the chair, and I fucking giggled as he plopped down and practically pulled me right on top of him, the chair rolling back a foot or two. I went down for a bright, messy kiss that ended with his hands clutching my ass over my skirt and my own cradling his face.

His growing bulge nudged right up into my inner thigh, and I groaned lightly in his mouth, my fingers dragging softly down his jaw and neck until I reached his shoulders.

"What were you thinking about?"

He raised his eyebrow, and I rocked my hips forward with a sly grin, hoping to get my point across. "When you were looking at my picture, in this very chair, what were you thinking about?"

Seeing his eyelids stutter and his tongue dart out at my movements sent a rush through me, and I moved my hips once more to emphasize my urgency.

"I... I thought about you... riding my face. You tied my hands..."

"Oh?" I sighed, rocking forward again and humming into his neck. "Well, that can definitely be arranged if you want it bad enough..."

"Please, Y/N, yes... Please..."

The need dripping from every syllable made it near impossible to breathe, and I was suddenly very inclined to give him everything he wanted. With or without the begging.

So I reluctantly peeled away from him and stood up on weak legs. Staring at Spencer as he sat there, leaning back in the chair with disheveled hair and obvious desire in his eyes, made it all the better when I took my panties off from under my skirt and motioned for him to come forward. "On your knees?"

I would have demanded it in any other situation, but I was feeling a bit more sweet this time around.

And he seemed grateful for it, sliding the chair back further and getting down in front of me. I reached out and played with his hair, trying my hardest to commit his beautiful face to memory. I wanted it burned there for the rest of time.

"Hands?"

Spencer offered his hands to me, and I hummed happily, doing my best to tie his hands together with a makeshift knot from my panties. It wasn't really tight or secure, but it was enough for him to whine as he set them in his lap.

He watched intently as I dropped my skirt—a bit redundant now, but I thought it'd be a nice way to get him more excited. Plus I wanted to see his face (or at lease what I could see of it while it was buried between my legs).

I stepped forward then, looking down at him with a smile while my hands reached out to comb through his hair. "You ready?"

"Uh huh."

The look in his eyes right before I came forward and hovered over his face almost made my come on the spot.

But as fun as that would have been, I was glad for the way my body held off and settled for a beautiful, burning increase of pleasure that dragged out the longer he swiped his tongue through my folds. Actually, I forgot for a moment that I was supposed to be moving, riding his face like he'd thought about.

I willed my eyes open and clutched Spencer's soft locks of hair beneath me, gently rolling my hips and grinding down further on his face.  The groan he let out not only felt good against my skin, but it sounded like pure bliss, eliciting a small whimper of my own as I tightened my grip in his hair and rocked faster.

"God, I missed having your mouth on me, baby... You're... so good..."

The longer I spoke the more breathless I became, not because the words didn't come easily, but because I truly believed them to be true.

Spencer really was so fucking good, his tongue the most delicate, divine object of the universe as it drew out every ounce of delight from my body. I may have been the one above him, calling the shots and directing him where and how to please me, but he was the one who clung to my soul like static and politely guided me towards damnation.

I wasn't even sure of my surroundings to tell you the truth. As my body tensed and took me through one of the most blinding pleasures I'd experienced in weeks, My eyes were squeezed so tightly it's like I saw the universe. All I knew was Spencer's lips sucking my clit and my hands deeply rooted in his hair as I shouted incoherently, stars swirling around behind my eyelids.

Truly, for all I knew, we could have been in space. It wouldn't have made any difference.

But eventually it came to be too much. I was reaching a limit I didn't want to get to so quickly, and so I flashed my eyes open and tried to adjust to this brand new atmosphere, unweaving my fingers through pretty brown waves of hair and stepping back to assess the situation.

What I found was the most beautiful man I'd ever known, panting like he'd just ran a marathon and yet harboring the most intense joy and desire a person could hold. He was on his knees, bound hands writhing in his lap as he awaited further instruction and licked up as much of myself on his face as he could before I stopped him.

Under normal circumstances, I would have wanted to absolutely ruin him. That adoring, desperate look in his eye would have spurred me to more devious endeavors, but all I wanted in this moment was to make sure he was satisfied. I wanted to take care of him, to let him know that I longed to make him feel as worshipped and adored as he'd made me feel.

I got down to Spencer's level, quickly removing the fabric from his wrists and hauling him to his feet, where he now towered over me, still waiting for words to address and instruct him.

Instead, I leaned up with soft hands upon his cheeks and pulled him down to meet my lips in a kiss that changed the tone entirely. It was erotic still, of course, what with my arousal infiltrating my taste buds and eliciting a soft sigh from the both of us, but our urgency manifested in sweeter ways... Softer lips, gentle touches of the face, and an exchanging of breath that was so smooth and seamless it felt like we were floating on air.

I was finding it hard to breathe again, but it wasn't an issue in the slightest. In fact, there was nowhere else I'd rather have been than right there, kissing Spencer Reid like we had all the time in the world.

When the breathlessness was a little too much to bear, we pulled away, though only leaving just enough space to breathe. Our lips stayed briefly connected while we caught up, and his hands found their way to the sides of my face. The way they practically engulfed my whole head brought a brief smile to my lips as I finally gave him the words he was looking for.

"I'm so glad I met you," I whispered.

"Funny, I was just thinking the same thing."

We kissed each other again, naturally and with so much ease that I wondered how I had ever lived without him.

And then, as my hands slid gently down his chest, I felt it.

Something that felt very much like a ring attached to a necklace sat right where his heartbeat resided, and I knew exactly which ring it was.

"W—" I pulled back and circled the shape of it with my finger through the shirt, then looked up at him. "Is that what I think it is?"

Spencer looked briefly panicked, pulling away a little and fishing down the front of his shirt for the chain. "Oh... Um, yeah. I, um... I forgot to take it off, I'm sorry. I..."

"You... kept it?"

I observed the diamond as it laid flat on my palm, still attached to the chain and around his neck. Honestly, after all this time I figured he'd never found it or gotten rid of it, seeing as he never brought it up. And yet there it was, glittering in the palm of my hand as my other one presses firmly against Spencer's rapidly beating heart.

"Y—Yeah... It um... It was really the only physical thing I had to remember you—Well, at least until we started sending letters... And I guess I just... W—Wearing it has become such a habit that I forgot to take it off."

"You never take it off?"

I could tell he was nervous, and rightfully so given I wasn't really letting on how I was feeling about the whole thing.

Still, he answered my short question in such a small whisper I'd have thought he was trying not to get in trouble.

"No."

"Why?"

My words certainly weren't helping ease his anxieties, so I remained close, dropping the ring and focusing rather on his eyes. I softened the look in my own and glided my hands down to hold his. His fingers flexed against mine, squeezing them for dear life as he sighed out in relief and flashed me a soft smile.

"Because... I wanted you close to my heart."

With a smile that mirrored his eyes, full of enchantment and pure adoration for the person in front of me, I didn't use my brain and instead focused on what my heart was telling me, consequences be damned.

"I think I might love you..."

Spencer squeezed my hands tighter, that relief spreading out to all his features and brightening that beautiful smile.

"Funny... I was just thinking the same thing."

Our lips met once more, and I swear it was like nothing bad was ever going to happen for the rest of time.

I'd never felt that way. Not once with Patrick did my heart feel settled into place, even during the great parts of our relationship.

And now here I was, with a man who sent me love letters and kept every physical reminder of my existence, who kissed me like I was the most precious thing in the world and slowly mended my wounded heart.

He held me close the whole way to his bedroom and never let me go until the morning. Though, even then his arms outstretched towards me and his fingers flexed, needing to grab onto any part of me that he could find.

And as I was sure I always would, I welcomed him with open arms.

***

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