#the slowest burn of all time

[sic-vita]

GOOD OMENS + 6000 years meetcute

[retellingthehobbit]

Retelling The Hobbit Chapter 16: The Song of the Lonely Mountain First chapter / Previous / Next

To view full comic: Webtoon/A03 / Tumblr post with links to all chapters

Other blogs: TikTok/Instagram/Tumblr Sideblog

*crumbles into dust after finishing this* Thank you for reading! This The Hobbit webcomic adaptation thing takes a lot of effort to put together and I can’t tell you how much I appreciate every comment. I also really appreciate the people who’ve spread the word of this comic to their friends! <3

And finally, we’re at the Song of the Lonely Mountain! Within Tolkien’s canon, The Hobbit is an in-universe book that was “written” by Bilbo Baggins, who occasionally lies/embellishes/exaggerates things. The tonal differences between The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings are explained by Bilbo and Frodo/Sam being different kinds of storytellers, with different relationships to “the truth.” This idea is the core of how I’m adapting the novel!  Bilbo is an unreliable narrator who is literally ‘drawing’ from his own limited experiences;  the different art styles reflect the different perspectives of other characters.   The “dwarf art style” in this chapter is inspired by stonework/metalwork in general— but especially by a mix of art deco, Celtic art, and European folk art. 

The central tension of the comic is between Bilbo and Thorin, who each have wildly different ideas about what kind of  story they’re in. Thorin is in a grand fantasy epic, while Bilbo is in a lighthearted children’s book adventure.  The tragedy is, obviously, that only one side of the story ever gets to be fully told.

On a sillier note, a few years ago I had my first gay crush on a lesbian who sang while playing the piano. This chapter is dedicated to the piano lesbian. I hope they’re doing well, wherever they are. XD

I think I might need a bit of a break but I’m hoping for the next chapter, titled “Dawn,” to arrive on January 13th. And your comments/support really do help motivate me to get more done! ^_^

[esmedelacroix]

13 days til' Christmas

christmas party with exhusband!toji fushiguro ⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅̩̩͙‧͙ ‧͙̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

cw: very suggestive(got carried away/honestly its smutty idk what's wrong with me), shower sex, unprotected p in v, angsty

a/n: y'all im so sorry this was supposed to be a fluffy little christmas post i swear. I also hate this and will probably rewrite though.

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

Christmas was just around the corner. It was supposed to be a time of meeting family, gift-giving, and togetherness. Instead, you were stuck going through paperwork. Divorce paperwork.

You and your husband had agreed to divorce three months ago but the media still wouldn't know about it until you finished the last of the legal work.

You didn't know why but you couldn’t bring yourself to sign the final paper. It was so stupid that you were the one that suggested divorce and you couldn’t even stand to sign your own papers.

Toji probably already signed his and your lawyer(and his) were nagging the two of you about the papers.

It didn't help that you and Toji were in the same line of work. On top of that, you were both acting in the same romantic comedy show as love interests. The cherry on top was that the two of you got an invite to a Christmas party. It was only the most lavish Christmas party in all of Hollywood.

The two of you decided to go together because you were added to the guest list far before you divorced. It would be your last date. The two of you would have to make a huge effort to not argue in the middle of the party.

Your thoughts were beginning to tire you so you took one last look at the papers, unsigned again, like every other night for the past three months. You sighed as you picked up the book you had started when you and Toji were still sharing the bed you were now sitting in alone.

He had taken the liberty to move out a month after the divorce, leaving you your estate. You were in this big ass house with no one to share it with.

It was still the same house. The only difference was that Toji was gone and you were tucked into his side of the bed. It wasn't because you missed him or anything you were just there because you missed his scent and his warmth. But you didn't miss him, you were happy he was gone. Right? This is everything you wanted. Right?

You weren't wearing one of the button-ups that he had left on accident because you missed him. It just conveniently fits as a comfy oversized shirt for you.

You most certainly were not playing the old jazz songs that he liked to play when he forced you to slow dance with him because you missed him. You just never liked to admit to him that you kind of liked the songs that he played to his face.

As you slept, thoughts of him consumed, and for the first time you wondered, was this all a big mistake?

. . .

Weeks flew by as you found new crazy ways to keep your mind busy while your heart got heavier. As soon as you knew it, the day of the Christmas party arrived and you could finally call him without needing a stupid excuse.

You heard the line ring hoping and praying that he would answer so that you could hear his voice again after weeks of being starved of that beautiful sound.

"Hello?" he answered.

You sighed in relief as the vibrations of his voice entered your ears like water in a land of drought.

"Hey Toji, how much time do I have to get ready?" you asked, trying to sound as nonchalant as possible.

He took some time to answer but soon replied, "I'll be there in three hours,"

"Okay, I'll be ready by then," you replied as you fiddled with the necklace that he gifted you for your first Christmas together as a married couple.

. . .

"I don't know what to get you, I know you'll like anything I give you but I want it to mean something," he said after asking you for the millionth time what you wanted for Christmas.

"I already told you I wouldn't be so upset if my gift was you[oiled up on the bed with whipped cream and fruit roll-ups in hand]," you replied.

"Please just give me one item to give you and I'll leave you alone,” he pleaded.

You took some time to think before saying, "Get me a necklace, any necklace and I promise you I'll wear it every single day, even if for some crazy reason were not together,"

"We’ll never not be together, I'll never let you go,” he promised.

. . .

"Alright I'll see you then," he said.

I miss you...

"Okay, bye-bye,"

I miss you more...

Just like that, you went back to feeling like you were living in a world with no sound worth hearing.

You got up from your bed to get ready. You wanted to blow him away, you took a steamy everything shower, and did a face mask, and applied some light makeup.

You scavenged through your closet looking for the perfect dress to wear. Then you realized, you didn't have to wear a dress. You decided to wear a festive red suit with nothing under the vest. You were displaying a mouth-watering plunging cleavage. Not many people had seen your sternum tattoo but you didn't care to hide it.

You finished off the outfit with a killer pair of Louboutins. Everything that you were wearing were things that he had bought you thinking you would look good in them.

The only issue is that you were too scared to wear them because of your image. You let the increased amount of fame you were receiving get to your head. Maybe that was part of the reason why the arguments started.

You slicked your hair back and kept it down. It was a new look for you but it was a vibe you wanted to experiment with. It was so you. You were hidden behind bright pastels and fairy-like dresses all the time, it would be your first red carpet dressed in clothes you liked.

You were lost in the moment of getting ready with music blasting and putting your earrings on you didn't hear the front door open or the footsteps up the stairs.

You fidgeted with the necklace as you admired yourself in the mirror. You never embraced the more sensual side of yourself until now. It was weird but it felt right.

Even so, you couldn't help but feel self-conscious. Were you showing too much skin? Did you just look like a little kid playing dress-up?

"You look incredible," Toji assured as if he could read your every thought, He admired you through the mirror with a small smile on his face.

Your body jumped at the sudden intrusion. "Oh I didn't realize you were there," you said, crossing your arms feeling almost naked in front of him.

He walked up to you and uncrossed your arms placing his hands on your shoulders afterwards. He eyed you from your hair to your face down to your cleavage. His eyes stayed there for a while. She’s still wearing it. He thought to himself looking at the necklace he gifted you.

"You look perfect baby," he said and for a moment everything felt right. It felt like you weren't divorced. It felt like you were a married couple in love again.

You hugged him burying your face in his chest. "Thank you," you mumbled. You thought you would have the self-control to hold back but you didn't. Being in his arms was addictive and his scent intoxicating.

You quickly scurried away to get your clutch and the two of you went down into the car. He opened the door for you as always and he gave you aux as usual. It was like nothing had changed at all. You weren't married on paper but the two of you didn't act like it at all. It was as if you never got divorced. Kind of.

The two of you drove to his new house where the limo was waiting. There was a red carpet for this holiday party. The two of you were in the middle of a long line of limousines. You could see the celebrities on the red carpet taking photos together.

As you got closer and closer to the entrance of the event, you started to bounce your leg. Your nerves were starting to get to you and you began overthinking about what everyone else would think of you.

Just then you felt a large warm hand on your thigh. You looked down to see Toji's hand. He gave your thigh a reassuring squeeze. You looked up at him, he was looking away but you appreciated the gesture. You could almost sense the shy smile and the blush that were most likely gracing his face.

If just for a moment you could just pretend that August never happened. Like you never got into that one argument that unpacked too many emotions at once. If you could pretend that everything was okay and normal, you would rest your head heavy with your thoughts, on his broad shoulder.

And so you did. You held on to his muscular arm and snuggled into his side. You could feel yourself calm down in his presence alone. He took your hand in his and looked down at you admiring your beauty. The time felt right, his perfume filled your head and the clicks of cameras started to die down. "I've missed you Toji, every single day that we were apart, I've missed you," you revealed. To him and to yourself you admitted that you missed him and regret consumed you whole.

Toji turned to you, shock painted across his face. He crouched his head down so she could look into your eyes. "I've missed you t-," Toji started before their limousine door opened suddenly.

The world around the two of you began to fill with the clicks of cameras and the chatter of reporters and celebrities. You flashed Toji a nervous look and he gave your hand a squeeze before stepping out of the limousine before you and helping you out.

Gasps followed with your stunning entrance. Your look was unique to what the media was used to seeing you. It was also far fetched from the image that your entertainment company wanted you to maintain.

Toji kept your hand in his the entire time. His touch comforted you. You felt confident enough to pose with him and by your lonesome. You looked over at Toji who was already watching you after you were done posing.

The two of you waved to the press and entered the venue. "You looked amazing out there," Toji said, looking away from you with a light blush adorning his cheeks.

"Thank you, you didn't look too shabby yourself," you quipped.

He chuckled and shook his head at you. Everything felt right. You weren't alone anymore.

. . .

Dinner went on without a hitch. You and Toji allowed yourselves to have fun and let loose. After the party, you and Toji got into the limo and you told the driver your address.

You and Toji sat in the car in a comfortable silence recharging your social batteries. The two of you were holding hands, you were snuggled into his side taking in his scent. He was running his hands through your hair. The ride was far too short, and as soon as you knew it, you had arrived at your house. But you would have to leave home behind in that limo.

"Look, I know our situation but, do you want to come in tonight? Just for today please I don't want to be alone tonight," you practically begged.

"Sure, okay," he agreed as he looked you in the eyes sympathetically.

The two of you thanked and tipped your driver before entering the house together. Toji led you up to your room and ran to the shower telling you that you could join him if you wanted. You waited and thought for a while before getting up and deciding to take him up on his offer.

You stripped completely naked before entering the bathroom. You could only make out his figure through the steamy glass of the shower. You opened the shower door and joined him.

The two of you were completely silent helping get each other's backs and helping with shampoo. It felt just like the times before except there was this lingering feeling of tension and uneasiness you just wanted to shake off.

You hugged Toji from behind. Your naked body against his, water trickling down both of you. He turned around, running his hand through your hair and raking it away from your face. Staring into your eyes longingly before crashing his lips against yours.

Your eyes were squeezed tightly shut. Were you scared? in pain? No. You were sorry. So so sorry. In between heated wet kisses, all you could get out was apology after apology.

. . .

"I don't know Baby, I just feel like you aren't very authentic, like you're acting like someone different, even around me now," Toji said.

"Well, the company said that it would be best if I acted this way, they said I would be taken more seriously," you explained.

"Baby, you’re going to lose yourself in this role, because you're just acting, this isn't you," he said.

"How do you know if it's me or not? Maybe this how I act, how do you know?" you asked.

"How do I know? I’m your husband. I am your husband," he said sternly.

. . .

You hadn't even realized that you were crying. It all looked like water anyway.

Toji's hand traveled from the sides of your face all the way down to your waist pulling you into him. You could feel his hot length twitch and harden against your thigh.

You moaned into the kiss thrusting your hips against his, your body seemed to have a mind of its own.

. . .

"I don't understand why you're acting like this. It feels like I don't know you and I'd like my wife back," Toji said as he entered the break room.

You had acted like an airheaded bimbo during the interview because your management told you that it would clean up your image.

"Well maybe you really don't know me," you rebutted.

"Why would you want to act stupid for approval from the internet instead of wanting to be recognized as one of the few outspoken actresses out there," he retorted.

. . .

Toji left hot kisses on your jawline that translated to hickeys on your neck. As he kissed down to your cleavage he kissed the pendant of the necklace that he gifted you that you still wore all the time.

You moaned his name loudly in pleasure, crying tears of regret, sadness, and euphoric joy.

I'm sorry

I'm sorry

so very sorry

. . .

"Don't you like me more now?! Why don't you like me more now?" you questioned after Toji refused to have sex with you unless you stopped this act.

Everything was different kissing you felt different, sex you felt different. It felt wrong because he felt like he was cheating on you with a completely different woman.

"Are we even married anymore? Do you even want to be married anymore?" you questioned.

"Babe, honestly I don't even know anymore,”

"I want a divorce. Let's get a divorce. Now," you said, waiting for him to fight with you, to fight for you to say anything.

He simply shook his head raising his hands in defeat before burying his head in them. That night he left and the only times you saw him again were for legal issues.

. . .

Your back was flush against the glass wall of the shower. Your legs were dangling in the air as Toji thrust into you holding your legs up and wrapping them around his waist.

Your fingers were clawing at his back as his length almost split you in half.

You forget what it felt like to be so full. "Missed this pussy, missed it so much," Toji mumbled with his head buried in the crook of your neck as he tried with all his might not to go ahead and just explode inside of you.

You were milking him, unable to stop your walls from clamping down on his cock. You were uncontrollably creaming on his cock making a mess of him and his thighs.

"Ahn, I'm so close, I'm close Daddy can I please cum?" you asked, barely making sense.

"Yeah, c'mon baby show me how good I make you feel," he urged.

You needed no other words you immediately started squirting as Toji fucked you through your high chasing his own.

You felt his hot cum shoot up into you as his tip kissed your cervix. You never felt so full until then. You let out one last apology before leaning against his chest.

"All is forgiven baby, I'm just happy to have my wife back," Toji admitted.

"I've missed you like a fish stranded on the surface missed the feeling of water pumping through its gills. You're a daily need and I've been so deprived of you for so long," Toji said as he helped you shower again after making a mess of you.

It would've been my greatest regret to let you go...

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

taglist:

@aripet22

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

[loulooser]

Reading my book omg the mc and the woman who she hates (the feeling is mutual) just got beaten within an inch of their lives among some others but the mc woke up first and the other woman is like curled up in bed next to her having a nightmare so this little SHIT decides to softly whisper their life story and IT CALMS HER DOWN SORRY HOW IS IT ONLY PAGE 166

[hahafosh]

me livetweeting while watching nigehaji and finishing this goddam drama in 3 DAYS...i broke my record time

[crushsung]

✉ from olivia !!

send me a '✉' for five times my muse didn't text yours, and one time they did.

[sms: olivia] - you can't be sensitive in this field. that's how they eat you up. (drafted) [sms: olivia] - i think you're talented, but you're being limited right now. you could be impressive if no one was holding you back. (drafted) [sms: olivia] - i'm sorry if that sounded mean. it wasn't meant to be. (drafted) [sms: olivia] - i miss it sometimes. having what you have right now. (drafted) [sms: olivia] - you're too good to be wasting your time on commercialized pop music. that's not a dig at that genre, i think it has its merits. but you could be doing anything else with your time. (drafted) [sms: olivia] - i'm here to listen, if you need an ear. (sent)

[vroomian]

Oh my god skip beat is still going?????

[orcelito]

I always find it kind of funny what some other ppl consider "slow burn". Like I've been reading a fic that the writer repeatedly said was slow burn, but some 40k words in and they've had their first kiss...

I'm not complaining, but that just doesn't feel like that slow of a burn to me lmao. But Then Again, this is coming from the person who writes some of the slowest of burns... not the slowest, mind you, but like. In discacc, I'm pretty sure their first kiss happened around... what, 400k words in? Something like that. And they hadn't even officially Met (in person) until like some 70k words in.

And Then there's ITNL. Currently 74k words, and Wolfwood hasn't even officially entered the story yet.

We're in for the long haul, y'all :]

[dn38416]

Is there a time limit in which you should probably abandon a WIP that you’re writing?

Or conversely, is there an award for it?

Asking for a friend who may or may not have ADHD.

And that friend, may or may not be me..

[mars-ipan]

running in circles bc i can't go look at all the fanart and fanfic yet because i have a whole second season to watch

[neferaskingdom]

♡ I'M THE BIGGEST HATER | MV1

Pairing: Max Verstappen x Leclerc!Reader [Face Claim: None]

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Summary: Max Verstappen and Y/N hate each other's guts. or do they? enemies since the day Max defeated Y/N at their very first Karting race when will these two just stop bickering and (in the wise words of Danny Ric) just kiss already?!?!

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

A/N: been reading so many of these that I decided to try writing one myself. first time writing a smau so feel free to leave suggestions on how to improve. also comment to join the taglist as this is going to be a multi part series.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

Part 1 of my wheel-to-wheel but still in denial series: Masterlist

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

📸: Young Y/N glaring at a smug Max after losing a childhood karting race. Y/N is sulking, and Max is holding the trophy like it’s an Olympic gold medal.

Caption: A perfect example of when I learned the universe is unfair. #tbt to the time maxverstappen1 ruined my life by winning our first kart race. Peak trauma. 👎

Liked by pierregasly, danielricciardo, lando.jpg, and 200,298 others.

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

You’re still mad about one race? Get over it. 🙄

↪ y/n_leclerc:

It’s not just one race. It’s the principle. I was 9, and you were an evil little gremlin.You’re lucky my parents raised me to be nice, or I would’ve shoved you off that podium.

↪ charles_leclerc:

She has a point. You were insufferable, Max.

danielricciardo:

Max still brags about that karting win to this day. 😂

↪ maxverstappen1:

danielricciardo I absolutely do. Winner’s mentality, baby. 🏆

↪ y/n_leclerc:

maxverstappen1 “Winner’s mentality”? You mean “cheater’s mentality”? I see you, Verstappen.

user1:

"Peak trauma" 😂😂 Please, Y/N, it’s been like 15 years. MOVE ON.

carmenmmundt:

Y/N was already giving "future champion energy" even back then.

↪ y/n_leclerc:

carmenmmundt AND she's got excellent taste in fashion, unlike Agent George. See you later for coffee, babe? 💋

↪ georgerussell63:

y/n_leclerc EXCUSE ME. Flirting with my girlfriend now, Y/N? 😂

↪ carmenmmundt:

georgerussell63 Sorry, George, Y/N’s just irresistible. 😘

maxverstappen1 posted a photo:

📸: Max on the podium after a win, champagne spraying everywhere.

Caption: Another win, another day Y/N gets to hate me. Can’t say I’m sorry. #winning #dontcry

Liked by landonorris, carlossainz55, alex_albon, and 360,210 others.

Comments:

y/n_leclerc:

Bold of you to assume I’d cry. I save my tears for important things, like Ferrari strategy meetings. 💔

↪ charles_leclerc:

y/n_leclerc Yeah, same.

lando.jpg:

MAX, WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS? 😂

danielricciardo:

Max trying to make enemies of everyone in the paddock one post at a time. Bold strategy.

pierregasly:

maxverstappen1 If you make her cry, I’m on her side. Just saying. 😎

↪ y/n_leclerc:

pierregasly You’re my favorite Gasly. Let’s get coffee and laugh at Max together.

↪ maxverstappen1:

pierregasly TRAITOR. 😡

y/n_leclerc posted a meme:

📸: A meme of someone dramatically rolling their eyes with the text “Every time Max Verstappen opens his mouth to talk”

Caption: Literally me every time this bitch opens his mouth. Like stfu?? 🙄

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

Just admit it—you think about me all the time.

↪ y/n_leclerc:

I think about you the way I think about stubbing my toe—briefly, painfully, and with regret. 😘

↪ charles_leclerc:

Get a room, you two.

↪ pierregasly:

charles_leclerc They’re already halfway there, bro.

lando.jpg:

Guys, this is giving “enemies to lovers” and I’m so here for it.

danielricciardo:

This is the slowest of slow burns. It’s like watching paint dry but funnier.

danielricciardo posted a meme:

📸: A meme of two dogs barking at each other from across the street, then stopping to awkwardly sniff each other when they meet face-to-face.

Caption: Max and Y/N’s entire relationship summed up in one image.

Liked by y/n_leclerc, landonorris, georgerussell63, and 500,193 others.

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

That’s so not what’s happening here. I don’t sniff anything. 😤

↪ y/n_leclerc:

Max definitely barks more than he bites. 😂

↪ danielricciardo:

maxverstappen1 You bark loud, but Y/N’s the one doing the damage.

georgerussell63:

How long before you two just admit you’re into each other?

↪ y/n_leclerc:

georgerussell63 Into? I’m just into destroying him on the track. Anything else is wishful thinking, George. 😏

y/n_leclerc posted a Video:

🎥: Slow-motion video of Y/N overtaking Max in a karting rematch, with her laughing as she passes him.

Caption: I haven’t lost my touch, maxverstappen1 😎

Comments:

user1:

SHE JUST DUSTED MAX IN KARTING. THE RIVALRY CONTINUES. 😂😂

user2:

Max was so cocky, and now Y/N is out here reminding him she’s a Leclerc. 😏

maxverstappen1:

I let her win. Just being a gentleman. 😌

↪ y/n_leclerc:

maxverstappen1 I beat you so bad I thought you were parked. 😆

↪ user3:

THE SHADEEE OMG

y/n_leclerc posted a video:

🎥: A video of a car zooming past another car with the caption "Me speeding past Max Verstappen’s ego every time I beat him."

Caption: Nothing feels better. maxverstappen1, cry about it. 😘

Comments:

maxverstappen1:

I’m living rent-free in your head. Just admit it😏.

↪ y/n_leclerc:

Rent-free? Bro, you’re squatting in the garbage disposal of my brain. The plumbing is bad, and no one’s happy. 😤.

↪ charles_leclerc:

I’m going to need therapy just from reading this. Can we not?

lando.jpg:

charles_leclerc Your sister has the energy of someone who stays up late making Max Verstappen hate memes.

danielricciardo:

I’d watch a whole Netflix series of this beef.

danielricciardo tweeted:

Prediction: Y/N and Max will either end up dating or killing each other. Either way, I'm selling tickets.

Comments:

user5:

I’d pay for that front-row seat. 🤣

georgerussell63:

Why not both? Dating and fighting. Iconic and toxic just like these two bitches.

y/n_leclerc:

danielricciardo keep your fanfiction to yourself Daniel 🤢

lando.jpg:

danielricciardo I’ll start selling merch. #maxy/n

↪ maxverstappen1:

I'll sue you to oblivion muppet

y/n_leclerc posted a photo:

📸: Y/N having drinks with Carmen, Lily and Kika

Caption: wining and dining these beauties while their boyfriends lose at Mario Kart. Boys, you could learn a lot from me. 😘 carmenmmundt, lilymhe, francisca.cgomes

Liked by landonorris, alex_albon, pierregasly, and 280,284 others.

Comments:

georgerussell63:

Carmen’s too good for you, Y/N. Stop trying. 😤

pierregasly

stay away from Kika wench 🤺🤺🤺

alex_albon:

lilymhe Don’t get any ideas. 😬

↪ lilymhe:

Sorry, Alex, Y/N just brings out the best in me. 😏

y/n_leclerc:

georgerussell63, alex_albon, pierregasly Relax, boys. I’m not stealing your girls. Yet. 💅

user1:

The fact that George and Alex are actually worried about this is the funniest thing. 😂

maxverstappen1:

georgerussell63, alex_albon, pierregasly I’ve been telling you guys for years—Y/N causes chaos. Don’t let her near the WAGs!

↪ y/n_leclerc:

maxverstappen1 You're just mad because I can charm people and all you have is your fast car. 😘

alexandrasaintmleux posted a picture:

Caption: Had a lovely coffee date with y/n_leclerc today. Sorry, Charles, you’ve been replaced by the better Leclerc. 💋

Comments:

charles_leclerc:

I leave you alone for one hour, and this happens, where's your loyalty babe?🤦‍♂️

↪ y/n_leclerc:

charles_leclerc Charles, it’s not you, it’s me. I’m just irresistible.

↪ charles_leclerc:

I’m being out-flirted by my own sister. Unbelievable.

oscarpiastri:

charles_leclerc Now I’m nervous to leave Lily around Y/N too… 😬

↪ lilyzneimer:

oscarpiastri Honestly? Can’t blame her. 😘

danielricciardo posted a meme:

📸: Meme of two people bickering with the text "Max and Y/N" but underneath it says "Us: Just kiss already."

Comments:

georgerussell63:

Finally someone said it. 😂

user5:

This slow-burn rivals-to-lovers storyline is too good. Can Netflix turn this into a reality show?

y/n_leclerc:

I'd rather stab myself in the foot

↪ maxverstappen1:

I'd rather jump into a pit of lava

↪ charles_leclerc:

I’ve never seen two people who hate each other this much. It’s exhausting.

↪ landonorris:

What if this isn’t hate, though? What if this is like, love in disguise?

↪ danielricciardo:

I’m just waiting for the day Y/N proposes to Max through a meme.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──

[sweetbans29]

Brother's Best Friend - CC

Pairing: Caitlin Clark x Reader

Summary: Caitlin falls for her older brothers best friend

Warnings: Caitlin Clark lol, slowest of burns

Word Count: 6.1k

Sweetbans Masterlist

AN: I have had this in the back of my mind for a long while and it has been in my drafts even longer lol. So here we go!

"B! Come on, we are going to be late!" You yell from the bottom of the stairs. "Your parents are going to kill us if we miss this."

"I'm coming! I'm coming!" Blake says as he runs down the stairs. You hold out his jacket and the two of you run out the door and make your way to Carver-Hawkeye arena.

The two of you make your way through the arena and find her parents and Colin in the stands. Hugs are given all around and you take your seat in between the two brothers.

"When do you think she is going to do it?" Colin asks as he nervously rubs his hands on his pants.

"First quarter, all she is thinking about is winning," you say as you find her warming up. You see her and immediately know she is about to be a terror on the court.

You have known Caitlin since she was 5. You and Blake had become best friends in second grade and have been practically inseparable ever since. Brent and Anne absolutely adore you and Collin looks up to you and loves having you around. Oftentimes, Colin was the one who held you at the door when you were on your way out to talk about anything and everything which you later learned was his desire to be seen and how that wasn't always the easiest as the youngest.

Caitlin was just happy to have another girl around and you enjoyed being around her. You got to watch her grow up and see how amazing she truly is, both on and off the court. One of your favorite things about her is she would always ask if you would go to her games. You never missed a single one. She would find you after every single one and make sure you saw her favorite part of the game.

This game is no different, since you have graduated college it has been much easier to travel to see Cait play. Blake would join most of the time since both of you had pretty flexible schedules but even when he couldn't you would still be there for your favorite WBB player.

It is early February of your senior year, Caitlin's sophomore year. The Hawkeyes are set to play Michigan in Michigan on a Sunday afternoon. You get a text from the girl two days prior asking if you can make it and you just send her a picture of the 8 hour drive it would be if you were to go.

"Cait just asked if we could go to her Michigan game on Sunday," you tell Blake as the two of you are studying.

"That's like 8 hours away," Blake laughs and looks at his calendar.

"We've driven further," you say.

"I can't go - I will be at a conference this weekend," Blake says.

You sigh. You have never missed a game and didn't want to start now but an 8 hour drive alone would be rough.

"She'll understand if you can't," Blake says, knowing you are wrestling with the decision.

"I know she will, but I've never missed when she has asked," you say. Ever since she has started asking, which has been since you became Blake's best friend, you were there for her. She would ask you before every game all the way up to your senior year of high school. She knew that you would be busier and would have other priorities and stopped asking all together. You approached her about it and asked why she stopped asking to which she stubbornly avoided answering. After going back and forth, you finally got her to break and she confessed how of course she wants you there but knows you would be a college student now and wouldn't have as much time. You took her in your arms and held her, promising that if she asked, you would do everything in your power to be there.

You call her to tell her it isn't looking promising, especially since Blake couldn't go. She says she understands but you can tell by her voice she is bummed.

It's Cait's game day and you wake up at the ass-crack of dawn and decide to head to the game. You know you'll regret it the next week but you have a feeling that you should be there. You shoot Caitlin a 'good luck' text and begin the drive. You get to the arena right before tip-off. You make your way to your seat which just happens to be behind the Iowa bench.

The game starts and the whole time, it is a battle. Caitlin is single handedly carrying the team but it isn't enough. Even with Cait going 46-4-10 with 3 steals Iowa takes the loss to Michigan. You try to go to the lockers but security doesn't let you through.

You end up texting one of the coaches to see where the team is staying and decide that might be better. Once you get the address, you head there and wait for the team to arrive.

Kate texts you telling you what room they are in and that she will be in Gabby's room. She finishes the text with 'good luck'.

You get to the door and knock lightly. You hear shuffling but Cait doesn't open the door.

You knock again.

"Go away," you hear.

You knock again and keep knocking.

"I told you to go the fuck away-" Caitlin says as she swings the door open and stops mid sentence when she sees you.

"You still want me to go, what was it..." you think for a second, "oh - the fuck away?"

Caitlin immediately moves towards you and you take her in your arms. She nuzzles her head into the crook of your neck, like she always does and you hold her. You hold her, refusing to be the first one to let go. Eventually you guide them to her bed where you plop down and open your arms to her. She falls into them.

"You going to tell me your favorite part?" You ask her softly and you feel her shake her head no.

"Can I tell you my favorite part?" You ask and she doesn't move.

"My favorite part was when you got the second steal - you got the block on their big and came down and grabbed the steal leading to a transition 3," you say.

"It wasn't enough," she says, speaking for the first time. "I wasn't enough."

You shake your head no as if she can see.

"No Cait, you are always enough," you say as you kiss the top of her head.

Caitlin ends up falling asleep in your arms. You are quite tired yourself and are about to doze off when Kate gets back.

"Hey, I can go," you say as you begin to remove Caitlin from your person only to have her grip on you tighten.

"No, no, no," Kate says in a whisper. "Stay, she needs you to stay."

You nod and thank her. Kate gets ready for bed and turns the light off.

"Thank you for coming," Kate whispers with a yawn. "It means more to Caitlin than you know."

You let out a little hum, too tired to ask her what she means by that.

"Here we go," Blake says as the teams position themselves for tip-off.

The whole family watches intently and right out the gate Cait scores the first points for Iowa. The cheers are crazy as everyone counts down the points until CC breaks Kelsey Plum's WBB record. The next time up the floor Cait drains a 3 and Colin turns to you.

"You were right," Colin says as if you were ever wrong when it came to Cait's game. You give him a smile as Gabby grabs the defensive rebound and passes Cait the ball to bring it up the court.

"This is it," you say mostly to yourself but Blake and Colin nod.

You all watch as Caitlin gets to her usual spot and puts up a logo 3.

You hold your breath, not that you need to because you know it is going in the second it leaves her hands. It all happens in slow motion - the ball flies through the air and makes its way to a perfect swoosh.

The cheers blow the roof off the arena as Caitlin does her classic yell to the crowd. A time-out is called shortly after and you watch as everyone from the Hawkeye's bench goes to celebrate with CC.

You stand there smiling down at her, mirroring her family as you all just stand in awe of the 22 year old girl.

You know Cait doesn't care about the records - she is a lover of the game. But you know that her need to be the best has propelled her into a league of her own and that breaking this record in this particular game, against this particular team holds more weight than it would against any other. The fact that you are standing there watching Caitlin dominate the first quarter against Michigan is her taking back that loss from sophomore year. Eveny time she has played Michigan after that loss has been a statement.

The rest of the game is just as exciting as the first quarter. Caitlin puts up 49-1-13, finishing the statement with the win over Michigan.

Once the game is over, Colin is the first one of the family on the floor. You and Blake follow.

Colin goes over and practically tackles Caitlin in a bear hug.

You wait patiently as her parents and grandparents all congratulate her. She greets Blake with a hug and you know you are next. You are smiling at Blake and Cait embracing.

Caitlin's eyes land on you and her smile is wider than it was when she hit THE shot. She comes barreling into your arms, face straight into your neck as you laugh at the tickle of her breath on your skin. For being a few inches shorter than the basketball star, she always opted to be go under when hugging.

"I'm so proud of you," you whisper to her, knowing your time with her is going to be short in this moment.

You feel Caitlin's eyelashes flutter and she takes a deep inhale. You expect her to let you go but she squeezes you tighter. Your smile widens.

After another moment passes, you pinch her side.

"Go celebrate with your team, they are going to think I am hogging you," you say as she buckles and moves her torso away from you.

"Okay, okay," Cait says as she releases you, not wanting to be a victim to one of you tickling attacks. You look in her eyes and for a split second you see what you think is disappointment but it is quickly hidden.

Your head tilts a little as you examine her, giving her the silent 'what was that?' look.

Colin swings his arm around Caitlin's shoulder and points to you.

"She called it," he says and Cait smiles. "Knew you would break it in the first quarter, even down to the first 2 minutes."

You shrug.

"I know our girl," you say with a smile and a shrug.

You don’t notice but Colin does. He feels the way Cait’s breath hitches ever so slightly and her body relaxes. He is one of two people that knows that you calling Caitlin ‘our girl’ causes her heart to flutter and squeeze at the desire to be called ‘your girl’.

That’s been her one unspoken desire - YOU have been her one unspoken desire since the 7th grade. One she swears she will take to her grave but has gotten harder by the day. Colin only knows because over the years he has also developed a little crush on you - just not nearly as deep as his sister.

Caitlin’s feelings have been swallowed for so long and she has hid them so deep that it has become a second nature. In the eyes of everyone, you had been welcomed into the family and were considered the Clark’s fourth child. To everyone, you would be marrying Blake someday. You had become so integrated into their family that many would refer to Cait and you as sisters which caused her blood to boil.

“Ya, sometimes better than we know her,” Blake jokes and you all laugh.

“Hey, that’s not my fault,” you say as you put your hands up.

No, it was not your fault at all - that was all Caitlin. Since her feelings developed for you and began to rapidly increase, she did everything in her power to be known by you. There is no one on this earth that she wanted to be seen by more than you and you did, you have made her feel and believe she is seen.

Kate comes over and pulls Cait to head back to the locker with the team. The fam says some brief goodbyes as you all part ways.

As Caitlin walks away with Kate, her smile falters a little and she tries to suppress a sigh.

Kate gives her a side eye and chooses not to say anything. When the two of them are walking down the tunnel, Caitlin rounds a corner and stops. Her back presses against the wall as her hands come up to her face and she releases the biggest exhale. Kate looks around then steps in front of Caitlin.

It’s as if Kate can physically see Caitlin’s heart break.

Cait brings her hands to her chest, pulls at her jersey then puts her hands on her knees as if trying to circulate more air through her lungs. Kate rubs her back and lets the lovesick girl detach.

“It gets harder each time,” Caitlin says. “Every time I see her, she looks better and all I want to do is just watch her every move. When her arms wrap around me, I never want them to let go. To inhale her scent every moment of every day.”

“I know,” Kate says softly. Kate has been watching her best friend and teammate struggle with this since their first season together. Kate remembers when she first recommended Caitlin to talk to you about her feelings which led to Caitlin going on an hour rant about how she could never do that because you were so intertwined with her family. Kate literally had to talk Caitlin down from the ledge of believing that her family would choose you over her.

"I don't know what I am going to do once the draft happens and I am no longer near her," Caitlin says and feels herself start to panic. This is not the time nor the place to be having these thoughts.

"Hey, you just broke the NCAA WBB scoring record - I know you are feeling a lot but we are going to go out and celebrate, okay?" Kate says trying to shift Caitlin's gears into a different direction and she does.

After that game, things in Caitlin's mind went back to the way they usually are - present but not at the forefront.

The next time she feels like she is suffocating in her own skin is in the finals. Iowa vs. South Carolina and things are not looking up for the Hawkeyes.

You are standing in the crowd and you watch Caitlin. Watch her struggle on the floor but never stop trying because that's not in her nature. You watch as the realization sets in that they aren't going to take it, rather how SC will. You watch as she exits the floor for the final time and makes her way to hug all of her coaches, smiling through the tears because the whole world is watching.

Caitlin knows she should stay on the floor, knows the cameras are following her every move but she just can't. She's human and needs the room to be. Coach Bluder gives her a nod and Caitlin makes her way through the tunnel. She knows she only has a few moments before she needs to be back on the floor but she tries not to think about that. As she walks down the tunnel, out of view from prying eyes - an arm grabs her and pulls her into a room.

Without a second thought, Caitlin knows it's you.

You pull her into as the younger girl falls apart. She lets out a heartbreaking cry as you squeeze her tighter.

"I've got you," you say. "I've got you."

You give her another moment and you both know the time is limited before she needs to be back out there.

You pull her away from your body and that is the last things she wants. You bring your hands up to wipe away her tears and sooth over her headband.

"You are Caitlin Clark," you say as you rub her cheek. "And you are my Cait."

Never before had Caitlin been grateful to be crying in your presence but she is beyond grateful that her cheeks are already flushed to hide the blush creeping up her neck.

"Go be you," you say and give her one more hug.

"I love you," Caitlin says before she can stop herself.

"I love you too," you say and Caitlin knows you don't mean it in the same way that she does.

She walks out and you stand there for a moment.

You watch as Caitlin walks back out to the court and you can't help but wonder why she has chosen you. Ya, you are Blake's best friend and have known her for as long as you can remember but the way Caitlin turns to you makes you never want it to stop.

That night Caitlin did exactly as she should. She doesn't really have time to process everything before she is headed to New York for Saturday Night Live then to the draft.

After Caitlin gets drafted first, you join Caitlin and her friends in celebrating the occasion. Before you know it, you are all at a rooftop bar.

"How are you feeling?" You ask Kate Martin about being picked in the draft.

"If I had words for it, if I did I would tell you, but I am speechless," she says as she takes a sip of her drink.

You shake your head with a smile.

"Kate Martin," you say. "You are going to take over the W."

She laughs and you both cheers for that. You look around and your eyes find Caitlin.

"The world isn't ready for her," you say.

Kate watches the way that you look over at Caitlin. She has seen the look before, knows it well. Has seen it in her best friend.

"I am going to go see if she needs another one," you say, lifting your drink and giving a smile to Kate.

Even if neither Caitlin or Kate got drafted, Kate believed that seeing that look on our face while looking at Caitlin was worth it.

"Clark!" You shout over the music.

She screams and throws her arms around you causing you to laugh.

"I love you soooooo much," she says with a little hiccup.

"Okay, I think you have had enough," you say, taking the drink from her hand. "Why don't we get you back to the room, shall we?"

"I will go anywhere with you," she says with a giggle.

"Sounds like someone is a little tipsy," you say as you swing one of her arms around your shoulder. "Let's not tell your brothers about how much you have had tonight."

"Ugh, don't bring up my brothers," she says and you laugh.

"Why not?" You ask. "You're brothers are the best."

Caitlin pouts.

"I'm the best," she says with a frown.

You laugh.

"Stop laughing at me," she says with a stomp.

"I am not laughing at you," you say. You lead Caitlin to her room.

"I am the best," Caitlin says. "Not Colin....not Colin. Not Blake."

You chuckle as you guide her to the bed of her hotel room.

Cait falls on the bed and lets you remove her shoes.

She pouts again.

"Why are are pouting?" You say as you sit her up to remove her jacket.

"Because," she says.

"Because why?" You ask.

"Marry Blake," she murmurs.

"Who's marrying Blake?" You ask, slipping her arms out of the jacket.

"You," she says as her head falls forward and leans against your shoulder.

You laugh.

"Stop laughing, everyone knows," she says.

"Caitlin, I am not going to marry Blake," you say.

"That's what mom thinks," Caitlin says. "But do you want to know a secret?"

You don't say anything as you lean her back, placing her head on the pillow.

"I don't want Blake to marry you," Caitlin says as you bring the blanket up to cover her.

"I am not going to marry Blake," you say.

"Good," she says as her eyes close and she begins dozing off. You turn the light and kiss her forehead.

"Goodnight Caitlin," you say as you begin to make your exit.

Right before you leave, you hear her.

"It's good because I'm going to marry you," Caitlin says with a yawn.

You stop dead in your tracks as you look back at the now sleeping girl. You slowly walk back to the sleeping Caitlin and brush her hair from her face. You take a good look at the girl in front of you and sigh. It would be a lie to say you haven't thought about what life would look like if you were honest with yourself about how you feel. But you also know how much more it affects than just the two of you. Whenever you think about Caitlin - your mind goes back to one night your freshman year of college.

"You ever gonna put yourself out there?" Blake asks as you dig your spoon into the tub of Ben and Jerry's ice cream.

"What is that supposed to mean?" You ask, giving him a 'you are not serious right now' look.

"I'm just saying - it's our freshman year, we are out of the nest and it's the time to get to know new people," he says, grabbing the tub of ice cream from you.

"Why do I need to meet new people when I know you?" You ask, grabbing the bag of chips in his lap.

Blake laughs, "You know what I mean."

"When the time comes, I'll just marry you," you joke, knowing both of you know that would never happen.

Blake rolls his eyes.

"No," he says and you laugh.

"Not happening," Blake says and you shake your head. "Not me or the sibs."

"What? You don't want me marrying Caitlin?" You joke and take the ice cream back.

"Absolutely not," Blake says laughing.

You lean down and kiss the top of her head, knowing no matter what you feel you would never act.

The next few months things stay the same. You don't bring up that night and never plan to. You try to give Caitlin a little more space which proves to be harder than you expected considering she calls you multiple times a week. At the beginning you tried to not answer every one but that led to Cait calling twice as much then drilling you with questions as to why you didn't answer.

You have been able to make most of her games so far, even when she hasn't asked. How could you not? She only has one rookie season.

You are now in Phoenix, AZ for the W's All-Star weekend. It's Blake, Colin and yourself, which has been quite interesting considering Caitlin only provided you all with one court-side ticket. She handed it directly to you, leaving Colin butt-hurt.

Now it is you court-side watching Caitlin and her team taking on the 2024 Olympic team. She has run over to you 3 times in the first half and you keep shooing her away.

"Did you see that last assist?'" She says after jogging up to you and you just push her away and roll your eyes.

"Cait, I am watching - now go play," you say, feeling like you are talking to a child.

She smiles at you and sprints to guard Jewel. When half time hits she starts to run your way when the whole team is heading to the locker and you just point to where her team is headed and she slows her skip to a stop, rolls her eyes and drastically makes her way back to the tunnel causing you to laugh.

When the team comes back out for their halftime warm-ups, Caitlin comes right over to you. As she does, she passes the ball she has to you.

You raise your eyebrows at the girl.

"Spin it," she says.

"Why?" You ask.

"Because I want to see it," She says like the two of you back in her backyard.

"Cait-" you start but she cuts you off.

"Come on, pleaseeee," she whines, causing you to yet again roll your eyes.

You flick the ball up and begin to spin it on your finger, keeping it going with a few taps. Caitlin smiles and knocks it off your finger, running back to the team.

"She seems like a handful," the woman next to you says as you sit back down.

"She sure is," you laugh.

"How long have the two of you been together?" The woman asks.

"Oh no, we aren't together," you say. The woman just nods with a slight smile.

"Could have fooled me, dear," she says. "And everyone in this building."

You take a deep breath and try to laugh off the woman's words.

You try to not be a distraction for the rest of the game but Cait keeps coming over to you, trying to start random conversations and you keep pushing her away. At one point, you are pushing her back on the court as she is actively fighting against you and Ab has to come over and grab her to get her back in the game.

At the end of the game, you stand and start looking for the Clark boys as Caitlin makes her way over, yet again.

She stands in front of you waiting for you post-game hug but you don't make a move.

"Hug?" She asks.

"I don't think you deserve a hug," you say honestly.

"What? Why?" Her tone defensive. "We won."

"Caitlin, you were over here like 20 times during the game - you've had more than enough me time," you say.

"Still want a hug," she pouts as Blake and Colin walk up.

"Great job CC," Colin says, giving her a hug.

"She could have played better," you say with a joking tone.

"Hey!" She yells and goes to pinch you but you dodge.

Blake stands and observes the interactions. He has been observing Cait around you for a while now and has begun to see what Cait has been hiding for years now.

"Are we getting food or are you too busy for us now?" Colin asks jokingly.

"Never too busy for you, twerp," she says as she ruffles his hair.

The four of you grab take out and head back to your room to enjoy food and each other's company. Once everyone is full and tired, the Clark siblings all head back to their rooms.

Blake stops Caitlin before she heads to her room. Caitlin looks at her brother.

He hesitates but finally speaks.

"How long?" Blake asks. Caitlin's heart speeds up.

"What are you talking about B?" Cait asks, knowing exactly what he is asking.

"How long?" He says more firmly now.

Caitlin looks down at the ground. After a few moments of silence, she lets out a little laugh.

"For as long as I can remember," Cait says, still not looking in her brother's eyes.

Blake processes what he has just been told and logs it with what he has been slowly observing with you around his little sister. He takes his time to really think.

Caitlin stands there, dying in his silence.

"Say something," she says.

Blake continues to take his time, thoroughly thinking through what he is about to say.

"I can't-" Blake begins but Caitlin stops him.

"This isn't just some crush. It isn't something that I haven't completely thought through myself," Caitlin says. "This is a love that has burned inside of me for years and at no point has it dulled or died. It isn't a phase. I love her, with every fiber of my being and it terrifies me. She is so intertwined in our family that I have spent countless nights thinking through every scenario of what could go wrong. She is your best friend. This would change so much, but I can't help but think how much more this can be for all of us."

Caitlin takes a deep breath, then holds it waiting to see what her big brother says.

Blake removes his glasses and rubs his eyes and Caitlin can already feel her heart breaking at his soon-to-be response.

"I'm sorry," Caitlin says quietly which causes Blake to immediately shake his head no.

"Don't say sorry," Blake says. "Never apologize for your feelings."

Caitlin can feel tears forming on the brim of her eyes. Blake closes his eyes.

"I just don't know what would happen if either of you get hurt," he says.

"I won't hurt her," Cait says in a heartbeat. "And if she hurts me, I probably deserve it."

"Okay," Blake finally says.

"Okay?" Caitlin asks, not willing to let her hopes rise just yet.

"Okay," Blake says again. "But she is still MY best friend."

Caitlin nods rapidly.

"So, how are you going to tell her?" Blake asks.

"I haven't thought that far," Caitlin says honestly.

Blake lets out a laugh.

"Well I am not going to help you there," Blake says.

"What? Why not?" Caitlin says.

"Because regardless of what you do, she is going to love it," Blake says. Blake has watched you turn down every person to ask you out over the years. He has seen how your interest is never as invested as those who are invested in you and how you would run through fire for his little sister.

Caitlin lights up at hearing those words. The two of them part and Cait begins to think through how she is going to tell you just how much she loves you.

Cait wants to do it immediately but going into olympic break knows there is no real reason for her to ask you to come down to Indiana.

It is a month after her conversation with Blake that she finally sees you again. She asks if you will go to her game against the Sky and you don't hesitate to say yes.

Per usual, you watch as Caitlin dominates leading the Fever to another win on the season.

At the end of the game you wait for her but notice she is taking longer than usual. The arena clears out and you wonder if you should just head back and meet Cait in her hotel but that is not your normal. You check your phone to find no new messages.

After about 20 more minutes and a practically empty arena, you grab your things and are about to head out when you see a familiar face running your way.

"There she is," you say with a smile.

Caitlin immediately finds her place in your arms as she nuzzles her face in your neck. You laugh as her breath tickles your neck. you hold her as you rock the both of you back and forth.

"Proud of you C," you say expecting her to release you but she doesn't. She stands there in your arms and you let her.

After a few minutes, you speak again.

"Ready for food?" You ask. She nods and you smile.

"Let's go," you say.

You guys grab food and head back to her hotel room. You both sit on different beds while you eat and watch a show. Once the food has been eaten, she finds her way in the bed you are in.

Caitlin is laying with her head in your lap as you play with her hair - not an abnormal position for the two of you.

There is an overwhelming sense of comfort that settles between the two of you.

You feel Caitlin shift but are too into the show that you don't notice her looking up at you now.

Cait watches you as she brings her hand up to grab the one that is running through her hair. She begins fiddling with your fingers, like she does with her own when she is overthinking.

"What's running through that little brain of yours?" You say, eyes still on the screen.

"My brain is not small," she retorts and you finally look down at her. You see how she is looking at you and feel little flurries in your stomach.

"I didn't say small, I said little," you say.

"That's the same thing," Cait says.

"You are avoiding the question," you say and Caitlin makes a move to sit up. She sits right in front of you and you give her a slight smile.

You can see the gears of her head turning as her fingers fiddle with themselves. You can tell she is beyond nervous.

Your hand comes to stop hers as you bring them onto your lap, rubbing your thumb along the back of her hand. She sighs and closes her eyes, trying to work up the courage to say what she wants to.

Your mind is going a mile a minute but is hiding it much better than she is. She is taking longer than you want and you make the decision to take the lead.

Without a second thought, you bring your hand to her neck and pull her into you - lips meeting in the middle. Cait lets out a little gasp. Once she realizes what is happening, she leans further into you never wanting to leave this moment.

You smile into the kiss and you feel her do the same.

You pull away and a little whine escapes Cait's lips causing you to chuckle.

"Don't laugh at me," she mumbles as she leans her head into your shoulder, a blush overtaking her face. She can't believe how every nerve in her body is on fire from a single kiss.

"That was really cute," you say and you bring you hand to her head, lifting her so you can look her in the eyes.

She looks in your eyes then down to your lips, leaning in to kiss you again. You let her take the lead as she moves her lips against yours. Your hands finding their way to your waist, squeezing them and guiding her to straddle you. She is intoxicated by you and can't believe she has waited this long to have a taste.

After a few more moments, you put your hand on her chest and push her away. It is your turn to rest your head on her shoulder as you steady your breath.

"Marry me," Caitlin states and you let out a hearty laugh, lifting your head to look at her only to find she is semi-serious.

"I'm serious," she says as she brings her hand to cup your face.

Your eyebrows furrow and you just look at her.

"Caitlin, I can't-" you begin but she stops you, just like she stopped Blake.

"Blake knows," she blurts out. "He knows I'm in love with you and he didn't kill me. He knows and it is okay, he is okay."

Your heart is full at hearing her say she is in love with you.

"You should have lead with that and not 'marry me'," you say, shaking your head trying to hide a smile.

"Well it is going to happen someday, so why not today?" Caitlin says as if it is the most obvious thing in the world.

"What if I say no?" You counter.

Caitlin laughs.

"When is the last time you have said no to me?" She asks and you have to think.

She brings her forehead to yours, "You, my love, have never said no to me."

"Well there is a first time for everything," you say with a shrug.

"You are not going to say no to me," she says.

"I don't know why we are talking about marriage when we haven't even been on a date," you say.

"Fine, we can go on a date and then we can get married," she says and you roll your eyes.

"Caitlin Clark, you are unbelievable."

AN: I needed to get this out. Let me know what you think! And as always, thank you for your love and support 🤍

[bibluebutterfly]

I’m sorry but it’s absolutely hilarious and yet adorable how the series handles Broppy’s relationship. First we get them traveling together as rivals (which was a bit more one- sided on Branch’s part) before slowing learning how to work together and to change for the other. Also it’s heavily implied Branch has an underline crush on Poppy. Then we get True Colors, and everyone thinks “okay they’re in love now”.

Some people/audience members are on board, others not so much. BUT THEN it turns out that the “I love you” they say to each other was a PLATONIC love confession. Like “you’re my friend, and I value you.” Which is still sweet, but was unexpected. (Though it does explain why the writers decided to put another platonic love confession scene between Bridget and Poppy. Yeah, I get it now)

So they just go through the journey as bffs who have feelings for each other but won’t say anything. And again, they learn how to work and grow together as a team and make the necessary changes to benefit the other. And then FINALLY we get the romantic love confession.

But it doesn’t stop there, oh no. Now we get adventure #3, this time with them as a full on couple. And they are actually really cute. Actually the film doesn’t focus that much on their relationship but we see hints of how they are as a couple.

Poppy is still all over the place but she’s much less in her own head and far more open to listening and being a good girlfriend.

Branch on the other hand is still occasionally getting exasperated by her energy but this time also has an appreciation for it. Also he learns to open up to her a little more and she’s there to listen and accept him with open arms. (Bonus points to their flirty dynamic because wow. They were adorable here.)

And it’s ONLY THEN (7 years after the first film) when they get their first on screen kiss.

Anyway. In conclusion: Trolls is the slowest slow burn I have ever seen in a Dreamworks trilogy.

[cuteandhughesy]

Crawling Back To You | Matthew Knies

summary: the 5 stages of realizing you're falling in love with your boyfriend’s best friend (college!au).

[word count] 19.9k (���whoops)

warnings: MATURE! enemies to lovers | the slowest of slow burns. like seriously buckle up | emotional cheating? kinda not really? | thoughts of infidelity | drinking | intense make out scene | kind of a unfinished ending (sorry in advance) | suggestive scenes and dialogue | read at your own discretion

a/n: this idea randomly popped into my head before bed a few weeks ago and I immediately knew I had to write it. this is for the knies girlies (like yours truly) who can’t help themselves but fantasizing about him—I see you and I got you.

🎵 do I wanna know? by hozier (cover)

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Prologue

lucas' arm around your hips is a firm pressure, guiding you through the crowded frat house like he's done many times before. you let him easily, smiling at friends as you pass by them.

your boyfriend doesn't really notice anybody else—too busy looking for his friends in the chaotic crowd. his fingers flex around the dip of your hip, squeezing you reassuringly. "you look nice babe."

he's told you that already tonight—when you'd showed up to his door so you could walk to the frat party together—which, is only down the hall from your door—regardless though, it's nice to hear. you tilt you head back to look at him, eyes lingering over his too-sharp jaw and icy gaze. "thanks lucas."

he hums softly, not looking at you as he continues to make way through the sea of sweat covered bodies. you sigh gently, gnawing on your gloss coated bottom lip, gaze flickering away from your boyfriend.

you and lucas have been dating for almost half a year—which in hindsight isn't that long, but when you're in university and spending every waking minute with a person, it soon feels like a lifetime. you met him in the mailroom of your shared apartment complex during the beginning of last term, and hit it off almost immediately.

lucas was flirty, and so sweet that it felt like your teeth were decaying. he was smart and played on the universities hockey team—it was hard not to fall for him. but as your brief honeymoon phase came to a close, lucas started to get a little...dull.

he doesn't make your heart race, and he doesn't  have your stomach swooping with his stare or touch, and most of the time it feels like he doesn't have the time for you. but it's fine, because he's your boyfriend, and you care for him. it's just a bit...boring, and unfulfilling.

"babe." he starts again, glancing down at you. "were you able to book off that shift? the one during next game day?"

you frown, stopping in your shuffling steps. "lucas, I already told you that I couldn't."

your boyfriend stops as well, turning towards you with deeply furrowed eyebrows. "you did?"

you sigh, a bubble of irritation rising in your chest. "yes. this morning before class."

"seriously?" he all but huffs, dropping his hands from your waist. "I wanted you there."

"and like I told you this morning, there's nothing I can do about it." you've flushed with annoyance, looking at your boyfriend with a perplexed expression. it feels like you've been going in circles about this damn shift for days—and somehow everytime, lucas makes you feel like an asshole about it. you literally work at the arena, and as only 1 of 3 staff members for the concession stand, getting your shift covered was practically impossible.

his eyes flash with something similar to annoyance. "it feels like you don't even want to watch me play, y/n."

your eyes quickly dart around the room, gulping gently as you make sure nobody is watching the exchange between you and lucas—one that feels like it's on the tipping point of turning heated. your gaze flickers back to his, crossing your arms defensively. "are you seriously going to start this here? in front of everyone?"

despite your words, nobody is paying attention to the two of you—too drunk or high or both to have the awareness they needed to realize what's going on between you and the hockey teams assistant captain.

lucas sighs gently, eyes softening as he takes in your closed off, hard expression. "look," lucas grabs the sides of your face, holding you in place. "i'm sorry, okay?" your eyes drop, mind still reeling with annoyance about the whole situation. lucas thumb runs along your cheek, "we can talk about it later."

there's nothing to talk about, you think. i've already told you.

he leans in, searching for a kiss, but you turn your head just before your lips connect—lucas planting an unexpected peck to your cheek.

from a room over, matthew knies takes a sip of his beer, a smile pulling at his lips as his teammate loudly tells the group about his latest tinder date adventure—new flash, it went horrible. his teammate, gabe, wasn't the kind of guy you wanted to date, and after hearing all these different stories about how his dates went, matthew can't help but feel sorry for these girls.

sean, another member of the minnesota hockey team, nudges his elbow into matthew's side, subtly pulling his attention away from gabe and his loud mouth and comical expression—currently acting out how he'd opened the car door during said tinder date.

matthew's brows raise, looking at the tan complexion of his friend. "what's up?"

"looks like there's some trouble in paradise, huh?" sean then shifts his eyes out of the room, down into the even more crowded foyer and kitchen. matthew's eyes can't help but follow, landing upon his roommate, and another teammate of his, lucas.

but he's not alone—you're with him. matthew swallows roughly, eyes narrowing at the sight of you. he watches as lucas grabs your face, stroking the highest part of your cheek with his calloused thumb. there's a few rushed words exchanged between you, ones that matthew has no chance of hearing over the bustling party.

sean continues, rubbing his hand over his stubble. "what do you think they're fighting about?"

matthew watches as you dodge his friends kiss, your expression full of exhaustion and annoyance. he looks away from you, eyes finding sean's deep chocolate ones  "probably something lucas started."

sean snorts. "probably—dude doesn't know what he's got."

matthew hums dismissively, taking an aggressive sip from his beer bottle. the tangy liquid fizzles against his tastebuds, the alcohol already making him feel lighter. he can't help the way his eyes find you again, watching the tail end of whatever argument you'd been in the midst of.

lucas pulls off you, a tiny roll of his eyes. but he wraps his arm around you again, pulling you further into the house and in the direction of the living room.

at the sight of lucas, a few of the guys get distracted, attention pulled from gabe and his ridiculous performance—all of them hollering in the blondes direction. the smile comes easy, and he releases you in favour of greeting everyone, bringing them into a side hug before slapping the muscle on their back.

you do your best to plaster on a smile as a couple of the guys girlfriends greet you warmly—madison, you closest WAG friend squeezes your arm from the couch beside you. you briefly wonder if she's seen the tiff you've just had with lucas.

but no, you can't think like that, if you do it'll just make you more anxious than usual. you gently shake your head, snapping yourself out of your own pity. you stand awkwardly beside the couch while lucas completely disappears into his friends, cheering and laughing as they all talk about their latest win. you blink again, this time to hold back unshed tears.

"hey girl, you wanna sit down?" another one of the wags asks you, her gentle, honey laced voice filtering through the noisy room. "you look a little out of it."

you laugh gently, blinking rapidly. "I don't think there's anywhere to sit." your words stem from truth, and as you glance around the collection of mangled, worn leather couches and stained lazy boys, the space is limited. you desperately wish lucas was a doting boyfriend—pulling you into his lap and pressing a reassuring kiss against the junction of your neck.

"you can sit here." his voice cuts through the air like a knife, sending a usual shiver through your body. you hadn't even realized matthew knies was here—but you should've suspected it when you didn't hear his usual rerun of new girl in his and lucas' shared apartment.

your eyes flicker to his, and then towards the sliver of space between him and sean. the couch is most definitely sticky, and the foam is practically spilling out the cushion—the sight has you squirming. parties have never been your thing, and you've never been one to be overly social—much preferring the silence and comfortability of your own space. if you were to go out on your own terms, you'd often opt for local bars or eateries, which usually provide a more relaxed and tone downed party atmosphere.

but lucas likes frats—so here you are. your eyes find matthew's again, and immediately you're feeling a familiar pull in your chest—one that always seems to tug in the presence of your boyfriends best friend. it's not that you hated matthew knies...it's just....he is one of your least favourite people to be around.

you're not sure when it started, but the combination of his cocky attitude and the way he seemed to always be pushing your buttons with that stupid smirk on his face, just has your blood boiling.

and you really try your best to ignore him, but as soon as his pestering starts, you just can't help but bite back.

he's looking at you with that slinky pull to his plump lips, likes he's expecting you to decline his offer and just turn tail and leave—which you are desperately trying not to do.

matthew's one eyebrow raises, almost like a challenge. "you scared or somethin', y/l/n?" he takes a slow sip of his beer, adam's apple bobbing roughly under his clean shaven throat. he licks his lips, catching the lingering liquid. "I dont bite."

the use of your last name—how it so easily slips through his lips like a song—has you biting down, your teeth practically cracking under the intense pressure. all your earlier irritation has been quickly redirected to matthew, and you eye him pointedly. "doubtful."

his smirk widens.

you shoot a glance towards lucas, but to your disappointment he still hasn't realized you're standing alone—sitting comfortably between teammates and sipping from a mysterious seltzer can. slowly, you look back towards matthew, who's grin has yet to falter.

he pats the space between himself and sean, two slaps against the leather as he wordlessly invites you over.

you can't help the way your eyes roll.

sean watches the entire ordeal like a damn soap-opera, eyes darting between you and his friend next to him—hiding his amused smile behind the neck of his beer bottle.

with a gentle sigh, you make your way towards them, wordlessly taking a seat between the two athletes with an awkward cough. immediately you're warm, the combination of the crowded house and being squished between two large men sending you into a heat flash.

although, matthew may be more of a boy than a man, but you digress.

"want a drink?" he asks you—the smirk evident simply in his tone. your eyes dart to the side, finding his flushed face.

"of what?" you question sharply.

his brows raise in amusement. "anything you want." matthew laughs once, a breathy sound that has you squinting. "there's lots of options—this is a party, y/l/n."

there's that nickname again—the condescending tone dripping from his tongue as he calls you by your last name. you grit your teeth, "that's not my name."

"I mean...It is." his eyes flicker with something you don't recognize, lip twitching as his smile widens. "you're always so wound up."

you stiffen, and you can hear sean hiss quietly beside you. matthew's looking as smug as ever, fiddling with the damp, shredded label of his drink. you let out a scoff, "no i'm not—you're just annoying."

"sure." he nods condescendingly just as he lifts the neck of his bottle back towards his mouth, plump lips expertly caressing the opening and tipping the liquid into his mouth.

you watch him move—your bubbling annoyance clear. you watch behind the rim of the bottle as his smirk returns, and that has you blinking, quickly averting your gaze. "don't you have other people to bother?"

you hear his beer hit the table as he places it down, clearly done with it. "am I bothering you?" matthew chooses to avoid your question, like usual, which has you rolling your eyes for the umpteenth time.

"I personally find this really entertaining." sean interrupts, leaning closer towards you. a half smile takes over his dark complexion, and he gets further into your space, wide, amused eyes dancing between his teammate and you. "you guys fight like you're a married couple."

you head snaps his his direction so fast you neck muscles tighten up. "what does that mean?"

matthew snickers, which immediately has you attention again. "seriously, have a drink or something — you fucking need one."

"excuse me?" your voice comes out sharper than you intended, but you're too far gone to care. you're really not in the mood to deal with your boyfriends best friends cocky personality, or his infuriating mannerisms and ridiculous smirk. "literally what makes you think you can say things like that to me? god, what's crawled up your ass."

"alright, alright," he interrupts, one of his large hands raised in a mock surrender. "just chill out, I'm not trying to ruin your night."

without knowing what else to say in that moment, you look away—eyes pinched and lips held together tightly. you grab sean's half full can of cherry liquor—right out of his loose grip—and down the rest of it.

he makes a noise of protest, but you don't even care. the alcohol already has you feeling better, the affects settling deep in your belly and further warming your exposed skin—you've always been a light weight. you cringe at the flavour, letting the last sip linger on your tastebuds before fully swallowing.

"fuckin jesus, y/n." sean grumbles like he's annoyed, but his eyes tell a different story. "that rilled up huh?"

you turn your back towards matthew, facing sean and his girlfriend completely. the latter is talking intently with another one of the girls—completely oblivious to the tension brewing next her.

matthew's eyes linger on your exposed back, your cream silky top dipping low enough to expose the base of your spine. he tongues his cheek to mask the grin, slowly trailing his eyes back upwards. "you're such a baby." he says knowingly, leaning in close enough that his words tickle your neck. "turnin' your back to me."

without looking at him, you huff. "you're so insufferable." you break composure, turning back in his direction. your irritated expression is still lingering, looking at matthew like you're trying to incinerate him with your eyes. "you suddenly care about me or something?"

"you wish." his response is quick—teasing.

sean snorts, clearly enjoying this much more than you could ever.

"do you seriously think you have that much of an impact on my life?"

"I know I do." matthew laughs. "you're really cranky today."

"and you need to shut the fuck up-"

"alright, you two." sean speaks again, looking almost scared as he eyes the both of you curiously. "better stop before people start getting the wrong idea."

you don't even have the brain capacity to think about what he could mean with that insinuation. you shoot off the couch, "i'm done here anyway." you mumble hastily, immediately making your way across the small living room. you weave your way through the few people standing in the middle of the space, lingering and chatting too enthusiastically for your liking.

the other couch comes into view quickly, and you spot lucas just as fast. your arms are crossed as you walk up to your boyfriend, lips already pulling in a irritated pout. the silk of your top suddenly feels too cold—too exposing—and you just want to go.

"lucas." you get his attention, "I'm going home."

his attention is pulled away from his teammates, eyes flickering over your figure once. "you okay?"

"ask your roommate." you spit. "he's fucking infuriating."

lucas grin, rolling his eyes. "you are so dramatic, babe. just come sit with me."

a couple of his teammates snicker at his words, attempting to cover their amused smirks behind their drinks—but you catch them.

"i'm not dramatic." you start, exasperated. "and no, I'm going home."

he runs a hand over his face. "kay, i'll see you later."

"whatever." you grumble, turning away from your boyfriend. you make your way back through the sticky frat house, narrowly missing the beer spilling over solo cups as drunk university students slosh around, smashing drinks together in cheers.

the early spring chill sends you into a shivering state almost instantly—the night cold stinging your skin harshly. it's only when the noise and echoing bass fade into a dull hum that you start to cry, sluggishly walking down the sidewalk as you continue the short walk to your apartment complex.

thoughts of matthew's snarky remarks and stupid smirk are plaguing your mind—sending you into a flurry of anger and vexation. replaying the interaction in your head has you scoffing out loud, muttering irritatedly like a clinically insane person.

and then there's lucas and his rude dismissal of you—his girlfriend for fucks sake. that and the way his teammates snickered at the brief moment of bickering between you just has you spiraling even deeper.

you close your apartment door louder than you intended, kicking off your shoes quickly.

your roommate, cora, looks up from her spot on the kitchen barstool, slowly slurping her mouthful of cheap ramen noodles with her brows raised in concern. "how was the party?"

all you can muster is a growl, opening to cupboard above the sink in search of a glass. your grab the first one you see, immediately filling it up with absurd flavoured tap water.

she snorts into her bowl, shoving some more noodles into her mouth. "what happened?" she questions between her chews.

you finish the water with a loud gulp, placing the empty glassware on the counter. "matthew happened."

his name alone makes cora roll her eyes, but there's a tiny grin that she can't even hide. your roommate is well used to the hostility that lingers between you and your down the hall neighbour. "just ignore him."

it's something that's been said by cora hundreds of times—it seems that anytime you're with lucas, you're coming back with a scowl and a new story about his roommate instead. "you know he only messes with you because you give him a good reaction."

you huff, stealing the fork out of cora's bowl and serving yourself a bite of her beef favoured noodles. they're not long made, and the heat slightly burns your tongue. you hiss through your teeth, "he's hard to ignore when he's up my ass whispering in my ear about how i'm 'such a baby'" you attempt at lowering you voice to mimick the athletes, and that has her grinning, taking back her fork for another bite.

"you two are so weird." she slurps a noddle noisily, "like there's some weird sexual tension or something."

"cora!" you huff, eyes comically wide as you look at her with nothing short of perplexity.

"what?" she laughs, all but innocent. "he's hot!"

"I have a boyfriend." snatching the utensil again, you twirl the prongs through the lingering food. your face begins to heat up, something that feels like embarrassment crawling at your chest. you clear your throat, praying that cora doesn't catch your burning cheeks as you chew some more food. "besides, even If I was single i'd never date someone so...arrogant."

"whatever you say." cora teases further, tucking herself further under her extra large hoodie. you know your friend is only playing around, and there's no malicious intent with her digs—so you let it slide, even though the mere thought of dating matthew knies has your stomach dropping, making you feel nothing less than nauseous. 

"I need to take these jeans off before I explode." you whine, quickly changing the subject. you already start unbuttoning the denim as you make your way down the hall, rounding into your warmly lit bedroom in search of your favourite pyjamas.

you soon swap your party, beer smelling attire for an oversized, stained hoodie and sleep shorts—throwing your hair back and popping your glasses on. already, you're feeling much more relaxed than when you first got home. "wanna watch an episode of stranger things?" you call through the apartment, already grabbing your throw blanket.

"yeah!" cora calls back, "can you bring me the niall horan blanket from your room?"

you snort a laugh, doubling back to your bed and pulling the fuzzy, 2011 one direction throw into your arms. it's been a staple piece ever since you met cora in your freshman dorm, and you learned your new roommate from wisconsin was just as obsessed with the former boyband as you are.

you make your way back into the living area of the small student apartment, your slippers slapping the floor obnoxiously as you do. "can you grab me a coke?" you ask cora as you pass the kitchen nook.

two knocks interrupt you, the sound echoing through the wooden door that separates your apartment from the hall. you jump slightly, the unexpecting thumping catching you off guard and making your heart leap.

cora eyes the clock—almost 1 a.m. her gaze skips back to you, frozen in place with the fridge wide open. "are you expecting anyone?"

"no." you swallow, making you way to the door. "are you?"

she almost snorts. "definitely not."

skeptical, but curious, you grasp the chipping bronze handle. you're hoping it's lucas—lucas who has hopefully come to his senses and has left the party in favour of giving you an apology. with a gentle shrug, you turn the handle and pull the door open in one swift motion.

matthew is there, leaning against the door frame in all his smug, infuriating glory. at the sight of you opening the door, a small smirk grows on his face, and in that moment you think the universe must be against you—because what the actual fuck.

"hey." he says simply, his stupid smirk growing impossibly wide. "glad to see you're not dead in a ditch." your brows begin to furrow, and he continues — much to your dismay. "saw you leave the party all stompy."

you're almost speechless, at a loss for words as you blink up at him. "it's almost 1."

"very good." he snickers, like he's congratulating you for knowing the time. you want to punch him in the mouth and get rid of that insufferable grin.

"can I like, help you or something?" you question roughly, crossing your arms over your hoodie. it's a bit awkward considering the mountain of blankets in your arms, but you manage. "i'm kind of busy."

matthew peers behind you, looking into your very much empty apartment. he sees cora, still lingering in the kitchen—watching the exchange like it's a SNL skit with a tiny, amused smile on her face.

he meets your hard eyes one again. "I don't think you are, actually." he licks his bottom lip slowly, an action that seems instinctual. "are you going to be neighborly and invite me in? or just keep standing and staring."

a scoff leaves your mouth, but before you can protest, cora speaks up, her cheery voice making your heart drop. "come on in, matthew—don't mind the mess." she kicks some loose shoes out of the way, subtly pushing you to the side as well.

matthew smirks at you again, stepping into the small foyer of your apartment. you tear your gaze away from the tall boy, sending your roommate a slightly panicked look.

she just shrugs, looking back at matthew quickly. "i'll let you two chat—i've gotta get the pillows..and...stuff, from my room."

pillows and stuff? her excuse is just sad, but before you can stop her, cora is turning on her heels, practically skipping down the hall and into her messy bedroom.

now alone, you look back at your boyfriend's friend with raised brows. "so? what is it?"

something flickers across his face, and before you can register it, he sighs. "listen, i've come to say i'm sorry for tonight. I was an asshole."

"an asshole is one way of putting it." you scoff, arms crossing tighter. you pause, eyeing his seemingly sincere expression. with a sigh, you falter slightly, "but thanks."

his smirk is back. "welcome." the formality is mumbled through his plump lips, and you swallow roughly at the lazy grin.

"anything else?" you hum pointedly.

matthew shakes his head. "nope." he reaches behind his broad back, grabbing the doorknob and turning it. "i'll be seeing you around i'm sure."

you watch as he opens the door, the fluorescent lights of the hallway illuminating your dim apartment. you kiss your teeth, a reluctant nod following suit. "oh, i'm sure."

he snickers. "goodnight, y/l/n."

your face falls—a bubble of irritation quickly rising once again. you don't say anything, watching through the corner of your eyes as matthew walks down the hall to his and lucas' shared apartment.

he shoves the key in the lock, and just before he walks inside, matthew shoots you one more stupid smirk that sends your head reeling.

you click your apartment door shut, and as soon as it does, your forehead hits the flat surface, an angry groan leaving your chest.

STAGE 1: Confusion

"can I get three tequila sunrises, please?"

the burly bartender behind the counter sends you a curt nod, turning on his heels as he grabs three empty glasses to begin making your drinks.

the bar is crowded, more crowded than your usual visits, but it is a saturday night and this is the closest place to drink from campus—so it’s business doesn’t come as a shock. you look around the room, eyeing the sea of students and young adults alike—all smiling and dancing together as they down shots and sip their respective drinks.

your eyes find your small table, seeing cora chat happily with your mutual friend, rachel. you'd all been in a deep conversation about your psychology midterm results when you'd slurped up the last bit of your drink—cora already fiddling with the ice cubes at the bottom of her glass.

with a pout from rachel and a plea from your roommate, you slid off the high stool and begin sneaking your way through the bar. you sigh gently, turning your attention back to the busy bar, watching as the bartender works around his co-workers in their hectic environment.

"hey." his voice has you stiffening. slowly, your gaze flickers to your right and that's where you see matthew, leaning against the sticky bar top in his usual stupid way.

you frown, glancing over your opposite shoulder to see if he's talking to somebody that's not you—maybe a teammate or your boyfriend who has magically decided to show up tonight.

matthew snickers. "yeah. i'm talking to you."

you look back at him sharply. "why?"

he shrugs, his index finger tracing one of the raised splits on the wooden bar top. "just saying hi to a friend."

"a friend?" you question, one breathy laugh passing through your stained lips. your gaze turns pointed, looking at matthew with a mixture of confusion and annoyance. "we're not friends."

"no?" he hums lightly.

you shake your head once, firmly. "I think you're forgetting how you know me."

"we live in the same apartment complex." his smile has returned at full strength, sending your chest contorting in a way that makes you angry. he's trying to rile you up, you know that by now, and even if you didn't, that grin on his stupid chiseled face gives him away—he's up to no good.

you make a face of faux innocent, mouth falling open to form a small, perfected 'o'. "oh, so that's how you know me?" your face falls, and you grab your wallet off the bar top. your hands are slightly shaky, and definitely clammy due to the adrenaline and irritation running through your veins—it's all so infuriating.

you turn to leave, but matthew's hand encloses around your wrist, stopping you. your head snaps back so fast that for a moment your vision blurs—and you have to blink quickly to clear it.

"c'mon, y/l/n, i'm trying to play nice." his grin falters slightly, looking down at you with a gentle expression.

it makes you even angrier. "well, I don't want you to play nice."

matthew squints playfully, leaning further down into your space. "kinky."

your eyes widen to unfathomable size, and your skin flushes all over. it's exactly the reaction matthew wanted to pull from you, and his eyes twinkle with amusement as he watches your face further contort into an expression of disbelief and frustration.

you take a few shaky, shallow breathes, trying your best to not yank your hand away and high tail out of the bar completely. "I have a boyfriend." despite the firm town of your voice, your words are quiet, only for the two of you to hear.

matthew's brows shoot up. "okay, I don't know how stupid you think I am, but I know you have a boyfriend—I live with him. i'm just being a dick."

you can't help the way your eyes roll. no shit. it's like matthew finally realizes the gentle grip he's still got around your wrist, and he drops your arm rather quickly upon realization. matthew brings his hand back to his side, fingers flexing as he tries to shake off the unknowing sensation. he clears his throat, eyes not leaving yours as he continues. "speaking of, where is lucas? thought you'd be up his ass tonight."

you hesitantly tuck your wallet under your arm, holding it to your side. after all, you're still waiting for drinks, and you're not going to let matthew drive you out of the bar before you can deliver them. "like you said," you huff, "you live with him, so you should've noticed he was home tonight."

matthew's lips drop in a small frown at your words, because no, he doesn't remember seeing lucas after they passed each other on the way to the bathroom that morning.

the tattooed arm of the bartender comes back into your peripheral vision, and he slides theee glasses in your direction. "here's your drinks."

you quickly menover your black wallet back into your hands, pulling out a $20 bill and passing it to the rather attractive tender. "thanks." he nods, tucking the money into his waist apron before turning away, attending to one of the many awaiting customers.

you look back towards the athlete at your side, who still hasn't taken his gaze off of you, and send him a sarcastic smirk. "wish I could say it was nice seeing you matthew, but i've never been a liar." you grab two of the glasses, frowning gently as you realize you can't quite grip the third. you place them down, attempting another time.

"oh wow good one, y/l/n." matthew laughs breathily, watching as you continue to struggle with three, condensation coated glasses. "are you going to ask for help now?"

you snort, "i'd rather eat glass than ask for your help."

you look like a lost puppy—one of the glasses pressed between your arm and boob, and the other one clutched awkwardly in your hand. your fingers barley reach around it, and it looks like a disaster waiting to happen.

"jesus christ, just—" matthew mumbles, reaching towards you and taking both glasses from you. and because he's annoying and has the hands of a giant, he scoops the third glass off the bar, holding the three together.

he looks at you triumphantly, which makes you want to kick him. "must you be so proud?"

"I must." he chimes. matthew finally looks away from you, which has you letting out a breath you hadn't realized you've been harbouring. his eyes filter through the crowd, brows pinched together. "where's your table?"

on cue, cora's distinctive laughter fills the room. "never mind I can hear your roommate." he begins walking in the direction of the table, maneuvering through the room like he owns it—which induces an annoyed eye roll from you. watching the crowd practically part as they see him coming through is even more infuriating.

you follow behind him, trying your best to keep up with his long strides. "her mouth is almost as loud as yours!" you smile with faux enjoyment, looking up at his side.

you merely miss getting bumped by some hammered frat guy, too busy yelling and terribly singing along to the shitty (but addictive) pop music. you miss the glare matthew sends the strangers way before he looks down at you, a smirk on his face. "seems like a match made in heaven then."

"or hell." you hum.

he laughs tauntingly. "don't be jealous."

"why would I be jealous?"

"took you long enough!" cora shouts, teetering on hammered—she's been pregaming since 5.

you watch rachel's eyes trail to your side, and immediately she's lighting up. "oh and you've brought a friend."

"not a friend—just a nuisance."

matthew laughs, too loudly for your liking, brushing past you to step onto the platform where your friends sit. "think that's the nicest thing you've said about me, y/l/n."

if your eyes roll one more time tonight they're surely to get stuck. "don't you have something else to do, knies?"

cora takes the glass from matthew's large hand, batting her lashes up at him like a damn cartoon character. she immediately takes the straw into her mouth, chewing on the plastic. "thank you matthew."

he turns back to you with a smug expression. "see, y/l/n, that's how you're supposed to respond when someone does something nice for you."

"oh well— I can't wait for the day you do something nice for me!" you clap your hands together like an exaggerated cheer, stepping up the the platform as well. you almost bump into his chest, underestimating just how close matthew was.

he just smirks, eyes slowly flickering down your body.

you swallow. "okay, you can go now."

"anything else?" matthew questions, brows raised expectantly.

"what?" you breathe through your teeth.

his smirk grows. "i'm waiting for a thank you."

you exhale through your nose, eyes briefly flickering closed for a passing moment. when they re-open, matthew doesn't falter, if anything he looks even more cheerful. "thanks." you grit out.

"you're so welcome." he shoots you a quick wink, waving goodbye to your friends before he steps off the platform, making his way back to whichever group of loud cronies he'd been with before he started pestering you.

"you two are so ridiculous." rachel laughs into her glass before taking a hearty sip—her eyes not once leaving you.

you whine, taking your original seat next to cora. "i'm one more interaction away from transferring schools."

cora groans loudly. "oh my god."

the conversation thankfully shifts after your dramatic remark, and the rest of the night seemingly goes by in a flash. you actually end up dancing for most of the evening, sandwiched between cora and rachel as you all scream song lyrics and laugh with one another. it's nice and refreshing—thankfully taking your mind of him.

you end up feeling more tired than you expected soon after, the combination of drinking, dancing and being at school since 10 that morning is taking its toll on you. "i'm gunna head out." you tell cora, leaning in close so she can hear you over the bassy one direction throwback.

"what?" she pouts, her hazy eyes wide. "I don't want you to go!"

you laugh gently, accepting the hug as she throws herself at you—stumbling over her own two feet in the process. "i'm tired." you admit. "do you and rachel wanna come with me?"

"no! the night is still young." cora looks at you like you're crazy for even suggesting that.

"okay party animals." you bid another goodbye to both of your friends, ordering and uber for yourself before stepping outside. you're hoping the chilled air will sober you up a little bit—because the last thing you need is to fall asleep in an uber, or worse, get sick.

you sigh gently, swaying on your feet as you stand outside the bustling bar. strangers and traffic are steady, providing a surprisingly comforting atmosphere.

the door creaks open behind you, the inside chaos growing louder for a split second until the threshold is closed once more. instinctively, you glance over your shoulder, and the sight has you groaning. the universe must be praying on your downfall, because there he is. "seriously? are you stalking me or something?"

matthew's brows raise, his hands shoved in his jean pockets as he walks towards you. "that doesn't even make sense—you've already seen me tonight…”

his words have you scoffing, and you turn your head away from him as you grumble frustratedly. "fucking...whatever."

he doesn't respond immediately, and the night life is the only sounds heard. ever impatiently, you check the uber app again, praying your ride is almost here—but they're still 5 minutes out.

"where are your friends?" matthew's voice interrupts your peace.

"why?" you question with hesitance, your glare pointed as you look towards him.

he laughs briefly, although it sounds more like a scoff. "god, you're so tightly wound! i'm just trying to make conversation."

you're taken aback for a moment, blinking quickly as you take in his words. with a quiet, irritated sigh, you look away from him once again. "you really don't need to."

you peer down the road, praying you see the uber that somehow has magically sped through time. matthew scoffs again. "why don't you like me?"

"besides the obvious?" you question condescendingly, eyes not leaving the road in front of you.

"sure, besides the obvious."

you spin on your heels, which in hindsight isn't the smartest decision because your stumbling dangerously. matthew's eyes widen in concern for a moment, but you catch yourself before he has the chance to reach out. you eye his flexing hands with anger, a grumble leaving your stained lips. "you're just, ugh! insufferable."

his brows raise. "i'm insufferable?"

you nod. "yes."

"really?"

"yes, matthew! god this, what you're doing right now is quite literally the definition of insufferable. like, if you looked up the definition a video of this interaction would play." you breathe roughly, gesturing between the two of you like a crazy person. at some point during your rant, you'd stepped closer to him—close enough that you have to tilt your head back to properly look at him.

matthew's lips slowly contorts into a smirk, one that sends your blood boiling. "you're such a nerd ."

you laugh in disbelief. "que the insults!"

his eyes change then, his smirk dissolving as a more serious and intense expression takes over his face. matthew licks onto his bottom lip, gaze pointed. "it's wasn't an insult."

your breath hitches, catching in your throat as you watch him…watch you. before you can say anything—do anything—the sound of tires screeching to the curb has you pulling away.

the passenger window rolls down, and a middle aged man come into sight. "uber for y/n?"

"yeah, that's me." you say quickly, walking away from matthew as fast as your feet allow you, and practically jumping into the running car, as soon as the seatbelt is clicked into place, the uber is moving, sending you falling back against the seat.

you watch through the window as matthew looks at the retreating car—not talking his eyes off the vehicle until you're nothing but a set of break lights in the distance. you swallow roughly, blinking away the flurry of emotions pulling and pushing at your chest.

STAGE 2: Shifting

almost a week has passed since your...interesting? annoying? pointless? conversation with matthew outside the bar, and you thankfully haven't seen him since.

which is surprising considering you've been at his apartment almost every night with lucas. as much as you hate to admit it, and as much as it makes you angry, you were curious about his whereabouts. anytime you'd been cuddling with lucas on the couch, watching some shitty show he liked—your mind would wander, and anytime there'd be any noise in the hall, you'd wonder if it was him.

where was he? what's was he doing? is he avoiding you? but no, because matthew loves pissing you off too much to just avoid you...right?

you curse yourself everytime matthew pops into your mind, quickly distracting yourself with whatever task you could get your hands on. like right now, ruffling through the snack display on top of the counter at work.

the arena is extra cold today, and as your arms touch the metal basket containing the various chips and crackers, you shiver—not even the team branded zip up around your torso is helping.

"y/n," the floor manager, jason pops into the booth. "we need some more pineapple. can you get some from the players kitchen please? just the frozen stuff for smoothies." his voice is hopeful, looking at you with a playful glint in his eyes.

you sigh gently, kissing your teeth as you turn to look at him. "sure."

he smiles in your direction, but just before he leaves, jason doubles back. "oh! and a few protein bars, i'm starving."

"sure." you nod curtly.

"and while you're there, grab me a green juice?" this time at least jason manages to look somewhat guilty, his grin almost doubtful.

you almost find it amusing, and you raise your brows as so. "why not."

jason cheers. "you're the best."

with that you make your way out of the room, not fully shutting the door behind yourself as you know your arms will be too full to use a handle when you come back. the walk to the players section of the facility isn't a long one, and it's only a few minutes until you're entering the 'smoothie room' — as you like to call it.

it's always in pristine condition, and you almost feel guilty for simply breathing in there. quickly, you grab everything you need from the room, including the bag you'd filled with frozen pineapple and some nasty smelling green drink for jason.

with your arms full, you leave the room and begin making your way back to the snack bar. you round the corner into the most open part of the corridor, expect this time it's not empty, and around 10 of the guys have started kicking the ball around—a pre-game warmup that a lot of them liked to participate in.

you plan to just sneak through, keep your head down and try to not too badly interrupt the ritual—for lack of a better word. timidly, you begin making your way towards the rowdy group, eyes focused as their voices get closer and closer.

the sound of the soccer ball smacking against the wall has you freezing, and before you know it the inflated ball is soaring towards you. you don’t have a chance to react, and it hits you right in the chest, sending everything you'd been previously holding scattering to the floor.

embarrassed and irritated, you sigh, crouching down as you begin to attempt and salvage the mess at your feet. an all too familiar pair of running shoes appear in your vision, coming to a squeaky stop as they approach. "damn, you alright?"

you look up, squinting from the glow of the fluorescent lights lining the corridors. like you thought, it's matthew. his expression almost resembles one of concern, which has you pulling a disgruntled face.

he's slightly breathless, running around and kicking a soccer ball at you must be the cause. he's alive, you think reluctantly.

you look away from him, grabbing the two bottles of green juice and tucking them under your arm. thankfully, neither plastic bottle cracked when they hit the tile.

he sighs roughly, and you can practically hear the roll of his eyes. matthew slowly bends down as well, grabbing the astray protein bars from the ground. "good talk." he mutters condescendingly.

your eyes dart up, a scoff tumbling past your lips. the audacity of matthew to be annoyed with you is just beyond comprehension. "sorry i'm not in the mood for small talk with you matthew after you just kicked the ball at my chest—i'm going to have to throw this fruit out now, thanks."

the pineapple is a wet, spilled mess across the floor. the bag had split when it dropped, and the ball has smooshed the fruit as it fell with it. you're not even sure what to do about the mess—looking at it hopelessly.

"I didn't kick anything at you, but sure it's my fault." he grumbles, looking at you once again.

"really? then who did?" you tone is dripping with doubt, looking at matthew with nothing but exasperation.

"ask your perfect little boyfriend." matthew immediately looks like he regrets his words, eyes widening momentarily before his gaze darts away from your face.

"my perfect little boyfriend who's also your friend?" you scoff.  "god, touch some grass matthew." you know it's a terrible rebuke, and the way matthew smirks in disbelief following your insult has you feeling even more irritated with your choice of comeback.

you don't dwell on it much longer as the sound of somebody else approaching you both captures your attention. you look up just as lucas joins you, standing behind matthew with a tiny grin. "hey! babe you okay?"

you stand up, clutching the drinks to your chest. "fine." you nod.

lucas smiles again, moving to wrap you in a hug. it’s awkward, with your arms pushed against your chest and the green juice pressing into your boob uncomfortably. he kisses your head quickly. "sorry, we were all just messing around and I didn't see you."

your face falls, and you pull back from your boyfriend. "it was you?"

"yeah." he repeats, looking anything but guilty. "said I was sorry."

you unwrap yourself from his hug, stepping back. the whole conversation with your boyfriend has rubbed you the wrong way, and even if he didn't mean to kick you with the ball, his apology wasn't enough of a sincere gesture as you would expect from someone who supposedly loves you.

"I gotta get back." you say quietly, eyes downcast as you further back away from your boyfriend. instinctively, your eyes flicker towards matthew's tall stature. you both hold eye contact for a moment, unknown words lingering in the air between you.

you blink, picking up pace as you walk through the hall.

jason beams as he spots the pile of protein bars in your hands, taking two along with his green juice before skipping out the room. trying to shake off the weird feeling from the interaction with matthew in the corridor, you get back to work, organizing the fridge in preparation for tonight's game—you know how much the minnesota students love their alanis, and you need to make sure that fridge is fully stalked.

there's a good 5 minutes of silence, nothing but you, your thoughts and the loading of the fridge—until there's a knock at the open door.

you look over you shoulder, and there matthew is again. you don't know what to say because you don't know why he's here or what he wants. is he here to gloat? to apologize? to taunt?

matthew takes your silence as an invitation, stepping into the snack booth with a neutral expression. he's still dressed in his sports clothes—a team branded sweatshirt with matching shorts overtop compression pants, completed with his backward basball cap. it oddly suits him, and your stomach drops at the realization of what you've just done.

you kinda sorta checked him out.

"here." matthew interrupts your thoughts, clearly unaware of your wandering eyes and the inner turmoil happening in your brain. he walks further into the room, and that's when you see it—a bag of pineapple clutched in his hand.

in your rush to leave the corridor, you'd completely forgotten to run back and get more fruit.

"where do you want me to put it?" he questions.

"uh," you hum lightly, eyes moving around the room for some available space. it's kind of a mess in here, and you really need to get your shit together before you open. "just beside the coffee machine for now."

matthew does what you ask, putting the frozen ziploc beside the kureig on the side counter. he doesn't say anything else, and walks out the room without so much a second glance in your direction.

you bite your inner lip, knawing the soft skin as you blink furiously— trying to collect your whirlwind of thoughts. above all, you're angry. angry that you were hit with a ball, angry that matthew was right about who kicked it, angry that lucas gave you a shit apology, and that matthew didn't even attempt to annoy you when he'd brought you the pineapple.

—

lucas presses a chaste kiss to your mouth, pulling you into his chest on the outskirts of the lit up courtyard. around you is busy, lingering students and staff members alike chat and walk through the space with an upbeat pace.

every year since you've been attending the university of minnesota, the hockey team and staff members would host a barbecue and movie night in the schools courtyard. it was always an amazing turnout, and for only $5 dollars to get in and get something to eat and watch a throwback film (this year being freaky friday), it was quite the rage. plus, the money went to a fundraiser that helped public schools in the area have breakfast. so it’s a win win.

so not only do you go with the intent of supporting the youth of neighbouring schools, but your boyfriend is one of the co-organizers of the event. so of course you show your face.

which brings you back to the current moment, pouting up at lucas with the best puppy-dog eyes you can manage. lucas sighs gently, running his hands over your jean jacket covered arms. "don't give me that look."

you don't let up, but your lips begin to form into a grin. "what look?"

"the look you're doing right now." he laughs once, squeezing your biceps tightly. "you know I have to be all over the place, babe. I can't just stand with you."

your exaggerated, playful pout quickly changes into a real frown—even though you don't want to show that emotion. because lucas is one of the co-organizers of the event, he's got lots of duties to attend to while the event is happening. so although you're technically here to spend time with your boyfriend, you'll barley get to see him.

plus, cora is sick and had no choice but to stay back at the apartment and watch re-runs of friends, and rachel wouldn't be able to come until the movie starts—coinciding with when her shift at work ends.

"I know but..." you trial off, taking your bottom lip into your mouth anxiously. you've never been a huge fan of crowds—especially when it's tightly gathered in a confined space—and the idea of having to be alone right now is rather daunting. "can't I just help you? like just go with you?"

lucas sighs again, eyes flickering out to the crowd around you. the smell of cheap burgers and hotdogs are already filtering through the air, providing the most perfect early spring atmosphere for the evening. he meets your eyes once more, "it just won't work like that. hey, you'll be okay."

he kisses your cheek, doing his best to reassure you, but you still feel down. "right, okay."

"get yourself a drink and just chill—i'll find you when I can, okay?"

you send him a closed mouth smile, breathing through your nose in a gentle exhale. "okay."

with that he turns away, quickly moving through the lingering crowd as he makes his way into the courtyard. you huff lightly, looking around the sea of people to see if you recognize anyone—literally anyone you can stick with until rachel gets there. but nobody is there.

you eventually follow the crowd, entering the lit-up courtyard. it's decorated in various streamers and balloons representing school colours, along with a spread of beanbags and camping chairs set up for the movie. it looks really good, and even though it's not the warmest temperature due to the night sky, the collection of bodies and decor have the place feeling cozy.

you spot a long table through students, full of what seems to be drinks—various waters, juice and sodas lining the gray fold away surface. you sneak your way through, eyeing the options before inevitably deciding on water. caffeine will just make you anxious, and your favourite juice flavour wasn't an option.

in your peripheral vision, you see a member of the hockey team standing on the other side the table—presumably keeping track of beverages and taking payments. without properly looking up you begin shuffling through your clutch, "how much for the water?"

"it's free."

the all too familiar and cocky voice of matthew knies has you freezing. slowly, your eyes creep upwards, only to be met with the light eyes of his. he'd been the hockey player in your peripheral, and you curse yourself for not noticing sooner.

his brows raise, anticipating a snarky remark. but much to his dismay you turn away, walking back through the crowd and away from him.

he turns to mitchell, one of his teammates, patting his shoulder quickly. "mind watching the table for a sec—gotta do something." matthew doesn't even wait for a response before he's following you, easily making his way between the bodies crowded around.

matthew catches sight of you off to the side, seemingly unaware that he’s hot on your trail. he approaches you swiftly, getting your attention as he speaks. "you're like really bad at the whole socialization thing."

your eyes widen briefly, watching as he casually leans against the nearest table.

"maybe I just don't want to socialize with you." you retort, eyeing him pointedly before taking a slow sip from your water bottle.

matthew smirks. "that's mean."

"don't care." you answer, looking back out into the yard.

a beat passes. "you come alone?" matthew questions, seemingly curious.

you cross your arms. "sort of."

"sort of?" matthew parrots, eyes briefly scanning the crowd. "what's does sort of mean?"

you look at him again. "well I came with lucas, but he's busy so now i'm here...with you." the last part has you pulling a face, scrunching your noise is displeasure.

he snorts. "don't pretend like you don't enjoy my company."

"enjoying isn't quite the word i'd use to describe how I feel about you and your company." you retort lightly, brows pulling tightly.

matthew sucks his bottom lip, containing his grin. "okay, so why aren't you mingling? this is supposed to be a event of socializing."

"I'm not a fan of mingling." you tell him earnestly, clearing your throat in a moment of venerability. "or crowds. besides the fundraiser, I only come for lucas."

"yeah crowds aren't for everyone." matthew's genuine tone has you taken back, and you eye with an almost shock like gaze. "sorry that you're dealing with it alone."

you feel weird—why does the sincerity in his voice make you tingly? "well," you begin. "i'm not alone because you've insisted on coming over here to annoy me."

his smirk is back. "it is my specialty."

you laugh a real laugh, a very brief moment of quiet joy that takes you by surprise. the way his eyes twinkle and smirk widens at the sound of your giggle goes unnoticed by you.

"babe." lucas voice calls out, jogging up to you and matthew. "hey." he greets, pulling you into his side and kissing your temple. "I got a minute, thought i'd see what you were up to." his eyes flicker to matthew's. "see you've found a friend."

matthew's eyes don't leave you, waiting and watching for your reaction to your boyfriends words. you swallow gently, "he was just keeping me company."

"she's not a fan of crowds—thought i'd take a few minutes from work to make sure she's settled." this time when matthew speaks, he's only looking at lucas, and you don't miss the underlying message in his words.

lucas seems oblivious to the hostility underlying his teammates admission, a smile overtaking his face. "anyways, I gotta get back. gunner was telling me about this new club out on main—i'll catch you guys later."

as soon as your boyfriend is out of ear shot, you send matthew a furious glare. "what was that?"

"what was what?" he questions innocently, eyes yet to meet yours again.

"i'm not stupid, matthew, you were trying to..I don't know? like one up lucas by insinuating he's a bad boyfriend for not spending time with me. what the fuck." you spit angrily, gaze tinted with fury.

"I'm not insinuating anything, i'm simply just calling it as I see it." matthew retorts.

you breath a shocked laugh. "what the fuck is wrong with you? you're lucky he didn't catch on to your stupid little coded message." you take a breath, arms tightening over your chest. "he's your friend—why are you trying to ruin that?"

matthew takes a step towards you. "like I said, i'm just calling it as I see it."

"bullshit." you chime. "what's it to you that lucas is busy tonight and he's not able to spend time with me? seriously."

his brows raise, an amused expression on his face. he knows he shouldn’t argue with you, especially when what he wants to say will only further upset you—but he can’t help himself. "he's too busy to spend time with you, yeah? but tell me why we're in the same job position and I haven't left your side since I saw you. so call whatever you want bullshit, but the real bullshit is the guy standing next to his teammate doing absolutely nothing but making you look stupid."

matthew's words have you pulling back, face faltering. you feel emotion clawing at your chest, flushing your skin a rosey pink as the embarrassment and anger about the situation hits you all at once.

his face flashes with remorse, looking down at you with a lingering guilty gaze. his mouth opens slightly, as if to speak—but nothing comes out.

"fuck you." you hiss quietly before turning on your heels and leaving. everything in your body feels like it's on fire, walking through the courtyard with a determination you didn't even realized you had. you can feel matthew's eyes boring into your retreating figure, but you don't dare turn around and look.

he's right—god, he's fucking right. matthew not only calling out your boyfriends shitty behaviour but your obliviousness to the truth about the situation, stings you hard, and you didn't know what else to say or how to react besides the way you did.

you’re even angrier about the fact that even within the little attention matthew had given you tonight, was more than lucas had all day—and the time matthew spent at your side in the bustling courtyard, had your anxiety about the crowds fizzling.

STAGE 3: Denial

the sound of basketball shoes squeaking against the polished wood of a court has always been one of your least favourite things. it's a high pitched, constant sound that has you cringing every time.

you eyes flicker up towards the scoreboard—it's almost half time. it's a relief, and you are almost giddy at the fact that the stupid squeaking while be on a momentary pause.

lucas squeezes your thigh, right over your jeans. you look over at his gently, met with the sight of his curious grin. "what's up babe?"

you shrug, "just watching the timberdogs!"

"it's the timberwolves." he corrects you, eyes twinkling with amusement. you laugh it off, looking back out into the basketball court, eyes following the players as they zip back and forth on the length of the floor.

lucas' dad has always been super into basketball—like more that the average person. he's got a room in his childhood home that's designed to resemble the minnesota timberwolves court, as well as a plethora of jerseys and seasons tickets for every year.

you're not sure why his dad couldn't make it to this game—lucas had told you in the car on the way to the game but you'd been too distracted with everything else going on inside the vehicle to truly pay attention. maybe he was sick? it also could've had something to do with his car breaking down? you don't recall—but regardless, the tickets weren't being used, and they were offered to lucas.

you assumed it was just two—because lucas didn't have any siblings, and you would think it was just his parents attending these games. but no, there's four tickets, because it was always a group of 50 year old men attending together.

so what you hoped was a date night between you quickly turned into a little group outing with your respective roommates. which wouldn't of been such a problem if you weren't still reeling about the last conversation you had with matthew—in the courtyard when he practically called out your entire relationship.

the reminder makes you shift in your chair, angling yourself away from matthew even further. you can hear him sigh to himself, and out of the corner of your eye you watch as his leg bounces up and down with a feverish pace.

it's annoying—more than the shoes on the court. you huff, turning to look at him. "can you stop moving, it's distracting."

he turns to his head. "how is it distracting?"

"i'm trying to watch the game." you retort.

matthew's brows raise incredulously. "you've been watching anything but the game since it started."

"that's not true." it is true, and his call out has you feeling even more infuriated than when you first got to the arena. "I love basketball."

"sure you do." he nods, unconvinced. "instead of watching me then, get back to watching your timberdogs." matthew messes up the name of the NBA team on purpose, teasing you with your own fuck-up.

you huff. "you are so-" the sound of the buzzer echoing loudly throughout the court silences you, whatever insult you'd been conjuring up dying on your tongue. the players begin filling off the court as halftime begins, leaving the crowd to begin freely moving and walking throughout the stands and hallways—replenishing snacks and/or drinks.

on the opposite side of matthew, cora leans forward, looking at you with wide eyes. "hey! i'm going to get another coke. do you want one?" her voice is loud, and even still it's barley heard over the rowdy crowd.

"yes please." you smile. your roommate nods in understanding before getting up, making her way down the row of seats before disappearing out of sight—leaving you with only lucas and matthew.

matthew snickers—mostly to himself—eyes downcast as he fiddles with a loose thread on the knee rip of his jeans. "didn't think you were capable of such manners."

"didn't think you were capable of such big words! woah, i'm impressed." your face falls, words dripping with sarcasm as your annoyance builds higher and higher.

you shoot a look towards lucas, but are only met with the sight of him engaged in his phone—playing fucking candy crush of all things—completely unaware of the tension rising between you and his friend.

"of course your impressed." matthew insists, "everything I do impresses you."

the lingering crowd around you seems even more roudy than before, but your too enthralled with matthew to even look away and glance around. despite the noise, you can hear him fine—too fine, if you're getting specific. 

your mouth drops, a tiny puff of disbelieved laughter leaving you. "oh so we're back on the 'y/n is obsessed with matthew train.'"

matthew slowly leans closer to you, his elbow nudging yours on the tiny shared armrest between your seats. his cologne invades your space—something clean like fresh laundry mixed with a spicy cinnamon. it's almost intoxicating, and you're left frozen in place.

"we never got off that train." his words are dripping with a teasing undertone, licking his bottom lip slowly.

a hand nudges matthew shoulder from the row of seats behind yours—gathering his attention. curious, you turn as well, finding a guy seemingly only a few years older than you, looking down at you both with a sheepish grin. "you guys are on the jumbotron."

both your heads whip back around, darting up towards the jumbotron hanging from the exposed ceiling of the court. much to your horror, you and matthew are on the screen—the image framed in a heart filter with 'kiss cam' scribbled across the bottom.

you and matthew both flush—although your heat is definitely more visible, trailing down your neck and appearing in splotches over your exposed chest. "no." you say, making a cut off motion beside your neck with your perfectly manicured nails. "we're not together."

it's no use— the jumbotron can't hear your pleas. matthew shakes his head, joining in on your attempt to get the camera off you both. through the screen you see matthew shift his attention to you, which has you whipping around to look at him. his gaze is almost soft—curious, maybe.

suddenly the crowd gets louder, their unison chants echoing through the building. "kiss kiss kiss!"

the commotion finally has lucas looking away from his phone, and at the sight of what's happening in front of him—his face falls. his brows furrow slightly, gaze switching between the jumbotron and the both of you—staring at one another.

lucas quickly grabs your face, turning you away from his roommate and planting a messy kiss on your lips. your eyes widen slightly, but eventually flutter closed—allowing your boyfriend to move his lips along yours.

matthew swallows roughly, looking away and back towards the screen. the camera has since shifted, showcasing you and lucas in the last lingering moments of the bruising kiss. the crowd cheers, but as soon as you pull away from him, the couple on the jumbotron changes.

lucas expression shifts, lips pulling into a frown as he pulls away from you—his hand quickly retreating back into his lap. "why didn't you nudge me?"

your mouth open and closed quickly, "I-I don't know."

"you don't know?" lucas's tone is quite, but firm, clearly unhappy with the situation that just transpired—even though nothing really happened.

you shrug, and blush once again, but this time is purely from embarrassment about the scolding from your boyfriend. "no, the crowd was looking and I just, I tried to say no but the camera wasn't hearing me. are you seriously mad at me?"

your eyes quickly flicker around the immediate area, making sure nobody is outwardly eavesdropping on your hushed argument.

"should I be?" lucas retorts, pulling your attention back to him. he's looking at you curiously, tinged with something that seems like hope as he waits for your response.

you swallow roughly, once shake of your head following. "no."

lucas exhales shakily, the corner of his mouth sliding into a grin. "okay," he mumbles, throwing his arm over your shoulders. "then i'm not mad."

you allow yourself lean into him easily, but your mind is a whirlwind of confusion and a million unknown feelings, and when you try and even begin to understand them, you're just left more confused.

the crowd begins filtering back into the arena, finding their original seats as the halftime clock begins winding down—the third quarter approaching quickly. cora comes back down the isle, squeezing past outstretched legs as small apologies spew past her lips.

you catch her eye, and her smile grows. "a coke for you." the posh, royal tone she often uses comes to a slow halt, passing you your drink as she eyes your somber expression.

you take the plastic cup. "thanks."

cora gives you a knowing look—one that says your sudden shift in mood will be discussed later in the comfort of your shared apartment. you're not sure why you're dreading that so much.

just as the buzzer sounds throughout the arena again, signaling the resumption of the game, your eyes flicker back towards matthew again. his jaw is tight, and you can see the tendons moving under his skin as he grinds his teeth together. matthew's leg is bouncing again, faster than before—his gaze locked on the court.

it's a longer glance than you intended, but you can't help yourself—something inside you is unwilling to look away.

that dreadful noise of shoes on the polished floor pulls you away, your nose scrunching as you inwardly cringe at the sound.

quickly, matthew's eyes flicker to you—only to be met with the side of your face. he watches gently as your face drops from the previous tight pull, your smooth skin stretching over your perfectly shaped nose.

the puffiness of your lips and the lingering blush on your cheeks, and the way your hair cascades down your back in the most delicate blowout...matthew can't help the way the faintest grin ghosts over his face.

the rest of the game thankfully goes by quickly, and before you know it you're all back in lucas’ car, making the drive back to your apartment located near campus. thankfully cora and lucas fill the lingering silence with pointless conversation—you and matthew only chiming in when necessary.

you don't know what exactly happened, but you know something has shifted. you don't know what it means, or what will happen because of it—and that has you feeling really weird.

as soon as you're back in the comfort of your own apartment, cora smacks her purse down on the counter, gathering your attention with the harsh sound. "what's going on with you?"

your shoulder deflate. "I don't know."

she frowns, walking further into the apartment where you've decided to flop dramatically on the couch. your pants pull uncomfortably around your waist, and the button is digging into your belly pouch like nobodies business.

cora sits down beside you, facing you with curious eyes. "did something happen at the game? it felt like when I went to get the drinks, I missed something."

"I was on the kiss cam." you breathe.

"okay?"

"with matthew."

"oh." she is momentarily taken back, blinking three times quick as she digests your words. cora is very much used to your and matthew's supposed hatred for one another, even though she's never believed it. but the look on your face at the game isn't adding up to just 'being on the kiss cam with matthew'.

cora's brows pull tightly, creating a deep wrinkle between them. "what else happened?"

"I think," you start, voice dropping as if you weren't the only two people in the room. "I think matthew wanted to kiss me."

her eyes widen to an unfathomable size. "what?! how do you know?"

your mouth opens, a sharp breath passing through your lips. "I just....I don't know, there was something about the way he looked at me. am I being crazy?"

instantly cora shakes her head, a gentle frown on her face. "no. the eyes never lie."

your expression droops in a mixture of confusion and fear, eyes beginning to glaze with emotion as you look at cora.

she continues, "and if he tried to kiss you, what would you have done?"

"I don't know." you exhale shakily.

you hear your roommate coo gently, wrapping her arms around you in a much needed hug. your eyes pinch shut, holding onto cora's arm as you continue the embrace.

you are so screwed.

—

how lucas managed to drag you to another loud and obnoxious frat party is honestly beyond you, but there you were—doing your best at mingling and letting loose while lucas was off doing god knows what with his teammates.

rachel thankfully ended up being at the party, and as soon as she ran up to you and made herself known—you didn't leave her side. which in hindsight maybe wasn't the best idea.

you love rachel, truly, but she's never been the best influence—especially when alcohol is involved. one minute your sipping your first seltzer, and the next you're stumbling over, 10 drinks in and screaming chappell roan lyrics like nobodies business.

which means right now you're hammered, sluggishly walking through the busy frat house as you attempt in finding your boyfriend. because drunk you is clingy—and a little horny—and all you want is the warm touch and attention of a man.

unaware, drunk bodies bump into from both sides—too caught up in the party atmosphere to even notice you. it makes the journey a bit harder, but somehow you haven't managed to fall on your ass, so you'll count that as a win.

"y/n?"

the sound of your name has you blinking, looking around the room until you locate the culprit. matthew's hand touches your exposed shoulder, grabbing your attention. his brows pull together, and he bends his knees slightly so he's able to properly look into your eyes. "hey are you with me?"

you blink. "your eyes are like really pretty." a fit of giggles follows your slurred admission, tumbling forward slightly as you clutch your belly.

matthew's hands steady you easily. the combination of your shitty balance and surprisingly playful and kind words tells him all he needs to know about your current state—you're drunk.

"where's lucas?" he asks you, beer can abandoned on a side table beside one of the terribly stained couches lining the makeshift sitting area. matthew eyes you again, "or did you come with cora?"

you shake your head. "cora's a loser and had to work—so here I am."

he can barley understand you due to the slurred, sluggish string of words, but he catches the jist of it. "so you're alone."

"no..." you retort, huffing like you're annoyed. "lucas is here. wait! have you seen him?"

"not for hours." matthew tells you. "I think you need to go home though."

you whine a protest, shaking off the hand he'd still had on your shoulder. matthew isn't having it, and before you can register what's going on, he's grabbing the meat of your biceps, guiding you to the couch before sitting you down.

"hey!" you huff, falling back against the cushions—wow, for a frat couch it's really comfortable.

"i'm going to find lucas, okay? stay here." matthew tells you firmly before walking back into the heart of the crowd, on a mission to find your boyfriend. it's actually not a hard task, and he's only looking for a minute or two before he spots lucas—in the back corner with a couple guys from the team and some mystery girls, all laughing and passing around a joint.

"hey," matthew starts firmly, grabbing the groups attention. lucas brows pull, taking a slow drag from the joint resting between two loose fingers.

"lucas man, y/n needs to go home—she's practically black out."

lucas groans, passing off the joint to the blonde girl closest to matthew—the same girl who's been eyeing him since he walked up to the group a few moments ago.

"fuck, man. I forgot she was here."

his word have matthew's jaw ticking, eyes squinting pointedly. "you forgot your girlfriend was here?"

lucas, ever oblivious, doesn't catch the irritation lacing his roommates words, and he only shrugs nonchalantly before taking a hearty sip of beer. he looks at matthew, a hopeful glimmer in his eyes. "listen, I'm still having a good time. can you like, take her home?"

matthew can barley hold back a scoff. "seriously?"

"i'd really appreciate it." lucas says. "I can trust you, right?"

that really rubs matthew the wrong way, because what the actual fuck is he even trying to insinuate with that comment. before he can bite his tongue, matthew's anger comes boiling to a point. "yeah, because i'm not some no good boyfriend who's spending his time doing drugs and flirting with 18 year olds while my girlfriend is alone and vulnerable."

lucas blinks, taken back—but matthew doesn't care. matthew sends one more harsh glare towards him before leaving the area, weaving back through the party.

when he reaches you again you're practically sleeping, holding your knees to your chest and using them as a pillow. your face is squished, your blinks slow.

"we're going." matthew tells you, gently nudging your knee.

you groan, lifting your head. "where's lucas?"

"he's not coming."

"oh." you sigh, blinking with unshed emotion. your hair is wild, like you've been sweating and running your fingers through it all night—which you have. and if matthew wasn't so frustrated with his roommate right now, he'd probably tease you about it.

matthew helps you off the couch, wrapping his arm around your waist to provide you with some stability as he guides you both outside.

the fresh air is shocking, sending you into a fit of shivers almost immediately—despite the mid may warmth. thankfully it's not a long walk back to the apartment, and matthew only has to stop with you twice because you claim you're going to throw up—spoiler alert, you don't.

you stumble out the elevator, tripping over your own two feet. matthew grabs the back of your tank top, halting you back up. "okay, slow down."

"but i'm tired." you whine, head falling back dramatically.

"you're gunna be real tired when you smack your face off the ground and end up in the ER." matthew let's go of your shirt, but takes ahold of your wrist, practically pulling you down the hall towards your apartment door.

"I don't want to go to the ER." you tell him, eyes widening with panic.

matthew's almost amused, sending you a small smirk over his shoulder. "okay, then let's get you inside."

"okay." you nod in agreement. thankfully the door is unlocked, because matthew didn't even want to start asking you about the whereabouts of your keys while you're this obliterated.

you sigh happily, kicking off your shoes messily before stumbling through your dark apartment. blindly, matthew finds the switch beside the door, flickering on the overhead light.

as soon as the room becomes illuminated he located you again, lounging half on the couch. he moves towards you, his smirk growing. "that's not your bed."

"it's not?"

he stifles a laugh. "no."

you whine again, head lolling to the side dramatically. "can you take me there?" your arms extend out towards him, resembling a mummy. "please. don't be mean."

matthew gulps gently, but takes ahold of your hands, pulling you back into unstable feet. "i'm not mean." he tells you, letting go of your hands. it proves to be a mistake because your immediately falling backwards.

matthew curses, grabbing you before you hit the couch and pulling you back up. you laugh, feeling very much like a ragdoll. you look up into his eyes, "you are too."

"you're mean too." he says, wrapping an arm around your hips and looping his fingers through your belt loop. he begins walking you both down the hall, "you're the one who calls me names."

you gawk loudly. "i'm only defending myself, matthew."

"whatever you say, y/n." he hums playfully. "which room is yours?"

you tell him that it's the room at the end of the hall, and allow matthew to continue guiding you to your bedroom. he nudges the half open door with hip, opening the threshold completely.

he drops you to the bed, and you go easily, falling against the unmade pile of blankets with a smile on your face. "where are your pyjamas?"

you lazily point towards the tall dresser next to the door. "top drawer."

matthew nods, pulling it open and immediately stifling through the jam packed drawer. he manages to pull out a t-shirt and plaid pants—ones he's seen you wearing at his place before. he tosses the items beside you. "think you can manage that?"

you sit up quickly, a lazy scoff falling past your lips. "yes." you grab onto the pyjamas, and before anything else your eyes widen, glancing back to matthew. "turn around."

matthew snickers at your tone—obviously he was going to turn around, but seeing you get so worked up over it has him left amused. he turns on his feet, broad back facing you as he looks into the dark hallway—patiently waiting for you to change.

you begin taking off your tight, alcohol sticky clothes, desperate to get into something comfortable and climb under the blankets. you lift your shirt over your head, and the momentary lack of vision has you stumbling, falling into the chair beside your vanity.

you hear matthew's quiet snicker. "shut up." you grumble, pulling on the pyjama shirt.

"didn't say anything."

"you thought it." you retort. eventually you get into the pants as well, and immediately climb into your bed. the sound of your delightful sigh and ruffling sheets have matthew peeking over his shoulder, making sure you were decent.

once he sees that you are in fact dressed, he faces you again. "do you need to be sick?"

you pause, is if you were assessing yourself to find an answer. a beat passes, "don't think so."

he hums doubtfully, walking towards your vanity and taking ahold of your tiny trash bin sitting underneath. you'd emptied it that morning, so there was nothing but a makeup wipe and a few q-tips in the bottom from when you'd gotten ready. matthew puts it beside your bed. "just in case you're lying."

"excuse me," you huff, squinting pointedly. "I don't lie."

he ignores you, picking up the stuffed zebra sitting on your bed, wedged between the pillow and the headboard. matthew snorts, examining the matted fur and scratched button eyes of your most prized possession. "awh, who's this little guy?"

you push up, snatching your zebra from his hands and bringing it to your chest. "don't touch ross with your filthy hands."

"his name is ross?" matthew snickers as you cuddle the stuffed animal, rubbing your cheek against the top of its head.

you nod. "yes."

"cute." he hums.

your eyes feel heavy with sleep, and it has you falling back towards the pillows, your beloved ross smooshed against your face. matthew swallows gently, watching the way your breath begins to even out and your blinks become slower.

"goodnight, y/n." he whispers.

matthew walks out your room, slowly shutting the door behind him—but just before the latch click, you mumble his name. it has him pausing, slowly pushing the door open once more.

you're looking towards the door lazily. "can you stay with me.”

matthew's face falls, swallowing roughly at the sight of you—laid out on your bed, completely relaxed and pretty. you don't even know what you do to him, and it drives him insane. he sighs. "no. I can't."

you pout, a breathy wind blowing past your dry lips. "pleaseee...lucas never stays with me."

the mention of your boyfriend has matthew scoffing, the conversation they'd had earlier coming back to him in a angry wave. "lucas is a dick."

he's expecting your to scold him, so matthew is surprised when your gentle giggles float through the room. "such a dick." you slur in agreement.

a moment passes, and your quiet giggles slowly die. wordlessly, your hand comes out fromunder the covers and pats the spot beside you—inviting him on your bed.

matthew's breath hitches, but he doesn't walk away. matthew softly shuts the door before walking back through your room, stepping over stray shoes and your discarded party clothes on the way to your bed.

"I don't bite." you grin teasingly.

matthew can't help the smirk that makes its way onto his face. "doubt it."

your smile mimics his, and that has matthew getting onto your bed, sitting atop the covers and leaning his upper body against your plush headboard.

it's only a few more minutes before your gentle snoring is heard throughout the room, a tell tale sign that you've fallen into a deep sleep. matthew watches you for a moment, letting the peace linger between you—a peace that has never been between you before.

matthew's eyes begin to feel heavy, and before he knows it, your soft snores are lulling him to sleep.

STAGE 4: Ignorance

when you woke up the following morning, you were in a state of confusion, still dealing with the lingering affects of alcohol and trying to re-collect your memories from the night before.

with a groan, you got out of bed, shuffling down the hall and into the living room. thankfully, cora is still sleeping after he late night shift—so you're in complete silence as you pour yourself a hefty glass of ice water.

it comes back to you in flashes, each blurry memory worse than the last—rachel convincing you to have another drink, followed by another, the loosing rachel at the party and having to walk through the house while hammered. then matthew is bringing you home, without lucas for a reason you don't recall—matthew in your room, changing behind his back, him touching ross...you pleading for him to stay.

your breath hitches—a mixture of embarrassment and hangxiety hitting you at full force. then you feel yourself panic, your stomach dropping. had you even checked beside you this morning? was your boyfriends best friend still in your bed?

you quickly—much quicker than you should be moving when you're that hungover—make your way back down the wall, sheepishly peeking into your bedroom.

he's gone. and that makes you feel worse than before.

you don't see him for the whole day, and then the next day comes and you still don't run into matthew knies. not in the hallway of your apartment building, and certainly not in the elevator. you don't see him at school, or even at the hockey rink. the one time you spend the night at your boyfriends, matthew is nowhere to be found. almost two weeks pass, and you haven't seen him at all.

it's making you anxious, and not only can cora tell—sending you looks of pity anytime you're making dinner together—but lucas can tell something is up with you too.

anytime he'd ask, you'd brush it off with a easy excuse—you're tired, or you have a headache—but it was never believable, and it was becoming repetitive.

did you say something to him? did you do something to him? you're reeling with possibilities of what could've happened between you and matthew knies to have him actively avoiding you.

but honestly, you're no better, and after a few days the anxiety of it all was getting to you—and you begin actively avoiding him as well. you  call in sick to work anytime your shift is during a game, and you've only spent time with lucas if it's at your apartment. you leave early for class with the hopes of avoiding running into him, and you stay behind late for the same reason.

it was exhausting but you couldn't help it.

so when cora texted you this afternoon about meeting up for lunch between her classes, you easily agreed. wednesday's were your free days, with no classes to take up your schedule—moping around your apartment while dealing with the mess of emotions in your head wasn't your most ideal choice of productivity.

so with only an hour until cora's lunch gap, you strip out of your pyjamas, tossing on your robe before making your way to the bathroom. you throw your hair up, only intending to wash your body and hopefully clean off any lingering lazy and anxious energy from your skin.

you sigh, pulling back the floral printed shower curtain. immediately, you scream, jumping backwards as the sight of a large, brown spider that greets you—scurrying up the walls before slipping back down.

your eyes begin welling up with tears as dry sobs rack your body—of course there's a fucking gigantic spider in your bathtub.

you rush out the bathroom and make a beeline for the front door, pulling it open with the upmost urgency. you don't even close it, speed walking down the dimly lit hallway until you're at your boyfriends apartment.

your knocks are frantic, perfectly capturing the emotions your feeling. thankfully it's only a few moments of your panic stricken knocking before the handle turns, the door opening to reveal not lucas.

matthew's taken back at the sight of you—hair piled on top of your head with a makeup stained robe around you, bare feet on display. quickly, his eyes land upon your face, and the sight of your tears and pale skin has him faltering. "what's wrong?"

you swallow roughly, a few tears trailing down your blotchy cheeks. "I went to take a shower, and there's a huge fucking spider and i'm so scared of bugs—I don't know what to do, I need help." you're a babbling, sniffling mess, eyes darting between matthew and back down the hall.

"it's okay." he says quickly, stepping out into the hallway. "i'll kill it, okay?"

you nod, blowing out a shaky breath. "okay." for as long as you can remember you've had a crippling fear of any and all creepy, crawly insects. something about the way they scurry around quickly, unable to know what it's thinking and what it's planning to do to you, never fails to leave you shaking.

your fear has completely taken over your body, and it's the only reason you're able to speak to matthew knies without remembering the past few weeks between you—or rather, the lack there of.

you follow him back to your apartment timidly, trialing behind his broad shoulders like a lost puppy. he breathes gently as he enters, grabbing one of the extra shoes at the front door—the spider killing weapon of choice, clearly.

"it's in the tub." you mutter, eyes darting down the hall. matthew nods, walking towards the bathroom like he's not about to battle the eight legged beast residing in there.

he pulls back the shower curtain further, and you peek around his bicep—locking eyes with the creature. you shiver, a disgruntled moan leaving your mouth. matthew looks back at you. "sure you wanna watch?"

in all seriousness, you nod. "I need to know it's dead."

"okay," he hums, grip tightening around your floppy, strappy sandal. the spider is still crawling around, attempting to escape over the lip of the bathtub but inevitably falling back down.

it's definitely not as big as you described it, but matthew doesn't even dare bring that up. at least, he won't until the spider is gone and you're returning back to a normal heart rate. he brings the shoe up before quickly bringing it back down, but before it can be smooshed, the spider scurries away.

you squeal once again, eyes filling with salty tears as you grip matthew's arm—hiding your face is the soft material of his sweater. "its moving!"

he has a hard time stifling his laugh, looking down at you with an amused expression. "why are you cryin?"

"i'm scared." you mutter, fingers digging into his arm muscle. "hurry up and kill it—oh my god, i'm going to be sick."

matthew rolls his eyes, the action laced with fondness rather than irritation. "well I can't kill it if you're holding onto me for dear life." he watches the way your eyes dart towards the grip on his bicep, and you quickly release him, taking a small step backwards.

now with his arm free, he approaches the tub again, and this time when he brings the sandal down, it finds the spider, smacking the unwanted insect with a sickening plat.

you practically gag, wringing out your hands in disgust at the sound.

matthew looks at you again. "you good?"

hesitantly, you nod. "yeah."

thankfully matthew cleans up the remnants of the spider from your white tub with some toilet paper, eliminating any disturbing evidence of its existence.

as he does, and your frantic state comes back down to normal, you come to the shuddering realization of what's happening—matthew, the man you haven't since since your impromptu sleepover, is standing in your bathroom—all while you cry and stand naked under a robe.

he flushes the paper down your toilet, the hallow flush echoing through your ears. matthew turns back to you, sending you a closed mouth, awkward smile.

you hate this—this isn't the matthew you know. you hadn’t realized how much you missed his annoying remarks and infuriating smirk until you no longer had them. you're panicking again, expect this time it's because you don't want him to leave and you never see him again.

you clear your throat, stepping in his path. "I haven't seen you."

his brows pull tightly, eyeing you up and down curiously. "what do you mean?"

"you've been avoiding me." you huff, nerves settling low in your belly. you’re not even worried about how desperate you sound, and you play with the string of your robe with nervous, trembling hands.

"only because you've been avoiding me." he retorts firmly.

"what?" you breathe roughly—exasperated. even though you so badly want to say that you haven't, it would be a lie. you have been avoiding him, and clearly he's caught onto the fact. so you decide to play coy, and somewhat petty, crossing your arms. "i'm literally with you right now."

matthew snickers. "not by choice."

"and since when have I ever spent time with you by choice?" you question lightly.

matthew's almost playful expression falters, and a more serious look blossoms over his features. he swallows gently, adam’s apple bobbing prominently. "since you've never decided to walk away."

your mouth opens, nothing but a hitched breath coming out. you blink once, and then again, feeling nothing less than speechless from matthew's words.

his eyes dart over your face, taking in your seemingly surprised reaction. he too blinks roughly, shaking his head slightly as if he didn't mean to say that aloud. matthew clears his throat once, "i'm sorry for being all weird these past couple weeks," he pauses, eyes finding yours, "I just didn't want to make you uncomfortable."

you frown. "you didn't." a gentle, shaky laugh leaves you, "if I'm remembering correctly, I begged you to stay."

his lips quirk upwards in a smile, "more like pleaded."

"okay!" you laugh in amused disbelief, covering your eyes with a still shaking hand. "don't remind me."

"but you see, this reaction is going to make me remind you at every possible opportunity." matthew teases, reaching towards you until his fingers gently brush yours, moving your hand away from your blushing face.

your eyes flicker back to his, smile falling as you blink up at him. you gulp gently, feeling your stomach swoop with a combination of emotions—nerves, confusion, fear, denial...need.

matthew's eyes slowly trace over you face, lingering on your damp lips before reluctantly tearing his gaze away. but he can't help but to drink you in further, admiring your exposed neck and collarbones—the fuzzy peach housecoat and the crazy hair—the silver initial necklace hanging around you, dangling above your sternum like the perfect accessory. it's all so new and so you.

your gazes meet again, and this time you sigh, a breathy noise that shoots right through matthew.

you blink, and without knowing what to do, you look away, back towards the shower. "how do you know there's no more spiders?" you question timidly, an awkward, unsure laugh following.

matthew holds onto his sigh, turning back to the bathtub. he puts his hands on his hips, stepping closer. "hello? anybody here?" he directs into the shower, looking around the porcelain white walls comically.

you smile fondly just as he looks back to you. "no more spiders."

something is seriously changing between you and matthew, and that makes you feel even more anxious than before. as you finally shower—speedily because you're still scared of the possibility of more creatures—and get ready for lunch, you can't help but wonder.

the what ifs and possibilities all involving your boyfriends roommate are very prevalent in your head, even as you begin to walk to a local campus cafe. as soon as you sit down, you're spilling your guts to cora.

no, you think, you can't like matthew because it's wrong—it's crazy. you're in a relationship, and a few months ago you hated him...at least, you thought you hated him.

and as you expressed it all to your friend, she listened with nothing but love and understanding. when you eventually stop your panicked ramble, cora sighs, looking at you like she just knows.

in that moment you know—the eyes never lie.

STAGE 5: Breaking

you scan the page of your textbook carefully, reading the history material in the hopes of applying it to your research assignment—but your mind is in a million other places.

since you've come to the realization 3 days ago that you have some sort of feelings for matthew, you haven't stopped thinking about him. you're still not sure what it is exactly you feel, so in all honesty you don't feel guilty about it—at least, not yet.

you blink, focusing your eyes as you attempt at reading the same paragraph again. the library is thankfully empty, meaning there's nobody to provide any type of distraction—the last thing you need is another distraction.

well, you're not completely alone, lucas is sitting across from you, typing away on his laptop as he attempts at starting his assignment that was due tomorrow. god, just thinking about that stresses you out. his legs stretch out underneath the table, invading your space, as well as his things spread across the tabletop—providing little to no breathing room.

all day there's been a lingering, awkward energy between you and lucas. he's been unusually quiet, and anytime he did talk to you it was quick and uninterested. unfortunately you've been too busy within your own head to notice the sharp glances he's been sending you, and the way his lips pull into a frown anytime you'd make a sigh of frustration or worry.

it was constant—and lucas was at his breaking point. as you have to restart the scentence again, a tiny huff leaving your lips, he shuts his laptop, the heavy click echoing throughout the library.

you look up quickly, brows pulled together as you eye him. "you okay?"

he huffs in disbelief, "your mind is like somewhere else recently—it feels like you're just a host of a body. it's like you don't even want to be with me." lucas tone is dripping with frustration, sounding nothing less then condescending and irritated.

you blink quickly, taken back from his sudden outburst. slowly, you put down the pen you'd been using to follow along with the words, eyeing lucas with a confusing tilt. is he joking? the last person who should be complaining about anything like this is lucas.

his face stays stern—looking at you like he's just watched you kill his dog. he's not joking.

you scoff quietly, but the disgusted tone is more than prevalent. "seriously? that's rich coming from you lucas. it feels like you haven't wanted to spend time with me for the past three months."

"that's not true." he retorts quickly, crossing his arms over his broad chest.

"is it not?" you question sarcastically.

"no!" lucas practically shouts, leaning on the table as he eyes you wildly. "you sound stupid right now."

the remark that you had dies on your tongue, mouth snapping shut. your jaw clicks as it tightens, anger coursing through you at lucas' insult. "how come you didn't take me home at that party a few weeks ago?" you question softly, a knowing look in your pointed gaze.

he wasn't expecting that, and it has him flattering slightly, leaning back as he blinks two quick times. lucas runs a hand through his unruly, light hair, tugging at the root in frustration—trying to think of answer.

"I don't know...fucking seemed like matthew had it under control." he swallows, pausing for a moment. "why does it matter?"

his admission give you confirmation you hadn't realized you'd been looking for. you laugh in disbelief, "yeah, well it seems like matthew is the only one who cares about me."

it was a low blow, one that has lucas' anger rising rapidly—but it was your truth, and you know that now.

"yeah too fucking much." he snarls.

"sorry that he cares about me—unlike you."

lucas jaw tightens, eyeing your face with a look you've never seen before. "we need to break up."

you look at him with disbelief and disappointment, your lip beginning to quiver. "so you're not even going to deny it? not even going to try and fight for me?"

this conversation has taken a turning point you weren't expecting—at least not today. there's nothing but anger between you, but yet you're not upset about being broken with. you're upset because you feel stupid, and everything you've feared about your relationship is true. lucas may love you, but he doesn't care about you.

his eyes flicker with something unknown, and he sighs, "I don't think you want me to."

you close your textbook and shove it into your bag, pushing off the table as you hastily get to your feet. "you're a dick." you don't wait for his response, leaving the library with your heart in your hands.

you push open the grand doors, and immediately you're enveloped in rain. you curse, tightening the hold on your book bag as you begin speed walking in the direction of your apartment. it seems that the rain only gets harder as you go, pelting against your skin like mini bullets and completely soaking you.

it's the cherry on top of everything, and you can't wait to get home, strip completely naked and cry in bed.

the sigh of relief is loud as you finally get back to the apartment building, walking into the lobby like a wet dog. you make a b-line to the elevators, not making your usual stop in the mail room—something that was habit anytime you'd come home.

you wring your hair out between your hands, the water hitting the elevator carpet with a small plopping noise. thankfully, it doesn't stop and you make it up to your door without any interruptions.

you sniffle away the emotion creeping up your chest, stepping out into the dimly lit hallway. you only make it a few steps before a door is opening, distracting you.

it's lucas and matthew's apartment, and our steps the latter, gym bag slung over his shoulder. you come to a slow stop without meaning to, looking at him with a soft, yet curious gaze.

his eyes dart to you, but as soon as he sees the state your in he's moving, stepping closer to you with a worried expression. "woah...you okay?"

just the caring tone of his question has you welling up with tears, and it feels like everything is crashing down on you all at once. the confusion, the anger, the heartbreak, the lust, the curiosity...it's all there, drowning you.

you shake your head, mouth opening and closing unsurely. "I-I don't...i'm so." your voice is shaking, and you're borderline hyperventilating as you attempt at getting a coherent sentence out.

matthew lets his gym bag slip off his shoulder, hitting the ground with a hard thud. he takes ahold of your biceps, squeezing the fleshiest part firmly. "take a fucking breath, y/n, you're gunna make yourself sick."

closing your eyes, you take a few deep breaths, attempting to calm yourself down from the sudden emotional attack set upon yourself. it takes a minute, but eventually you feel yourself begin to relax, your heart rate slowly creeping back down.

you let your eyes flutter back open, meeting the concerned ones of matthew. your brows pull tightly, a nervous gulp following. "why are you looking at me like that, matthew?" your question is barley above a whisper, as if you were almost scared of the response.

"like what?" he breathes, not once breaking eye contact.

it's almost intimidating, but it's also confirming of so many things. but of course, you're hesitant—heck you're scared and nervous and so unsure about what's going on between you. your brows are still drawn together, creating a tiny indent in the middle of your forehead.

matthew has to fight every urge in his body to not run his thumb over the indent to smooth it out.

"like...like you fucking care about me. like you want me." you answer firmly, eyes frantically moving around matthew's face as you attempt at gauging his reaction.

he doesn't release the hold on your biceps, his gaze turning completely soft. "y/n." he says your name knowingly, fingers gently running up your arms. that’s his answer.

"matthew." you exhale shakily, distracted by the gentle pressure of his fingers on your skin. "you're making me all..."

"all...what?"

"confused." you say honestly, looking up at him with the most vulnerable expression he's seen.

matthew swallows roughly, jerking his hands off your body like you just told him that's he's burning you. "i'm sorry"

the soft, hopeful look on his face doesn't falter, and if anything it increases. "no," you shake your head, "stop."

"what? stop apologizing?" he questions with a frown.

"no," you repeat, "stop looking at me like that."

a moment passes before he speaks again, his words laced with desire— stressing his words. "I can't."

another beat of silence, nothing but the hitching breath of both and you matthew to be heard. you lick onto your bottom lip, "lucas and I...we broke up."

"you did?"

you only get one nod out before matthew rushes forward, grasping your face like he's been waiting for the opportunity since he was put onto the earth. you tilt your head back instinctively, and it's just timed as matthew leans down to kiss you.

the kiss is instantly desperate, the clashing of lips and teeth alluding to so. your tongues glide across each others like second nature, elevating the kiss to a higher, more intense level. it's exhilarating—it's right.

you sigh into his mouth, trembling hands reaching up and grabbing onto matthew's wrists—keeping him against you. you've completely forgotten that you're soaked from head to toe, and how you've just had a fight with lucas that lead to a break up...it's all lost in matthew.

his hands slide farther back, fingers intertwining with your wet strands of hair. it's a gentle and welcoming pull, and you can't help but sigh in pleasure.

matthew follows suit, groaning into your messy kiss. it's been months and months of tip-toeing around one another, too scared to admit the truth in fear of ruining everything and everyone else along the way. but now it's just you two, and matthew can't help but moan at the thought.

the elevator doors slide open, and you’re both pulling apart instinctively at the sound.

but as lucas stands there, jaw ticking with anger as he stares at you—you know it's too late, and he's just seen you making out with his friend. or better yet, he's seen his friend making out with his newley ex-girlfriend.

"are you two fucking serious?"

your mouth opens, but nothing comes out. it looks bad, you know it it does—mostly because it is bad. you've been thinking about matthew for much longer than you care to admit, and the first thing you did after getting broken up with is run into his arms—letting matthew kiss you like you're both horny teenagers.

"lucas..." matthew trails off, turning to his roommate with a guilty laced hesitation.

but lucas is only looking at you, that same disgusted smirk on his face from the library. "can't even remember the last time you kissed me, but yet the first thing you did after leaving the library was make out with my roommate. I didn't realize you were such a slut."

you inhale sharply, tears quickly welling up in your eyes.

matthew rushes forward, and before he can logically think of the consequences of his actions, he punches lucas square across the face.

"matthew!" you gasp, moving towards the two men with concern pulling at your face. "no."

he doesn't hear you, looking at lucas as he clutches his jaw. matthew's gaze narrows, shaking out his hand. "don't fucking talk to her like that."

your ex-boyfriend laughs in a mixture of shock and disbelief, stretching his jaw out before he looks back at you. lucas doesn't say anything else, turning and leaving down the buildings stair well.

you're shocked, embarrassed and guilt ridden—your watery gaze locked on the empty space lucas was only moments ago occupying.

"y/n?" matthew questions gently, snapping you out of your own head.

you blink hard, shaking your head. "i'm sorry, I just need some space." you turn away from matthew before he has the chance to answer—mostly because you're too scared that if he begins to speak you'll crawl right back into his arms.

matthew watches you walk away, and all he can do is stand there, focused on your fleeting figure as he slip into your apartment—your lip trembling without another glance in his direction.

his face is contorted, not in anger, but in a look of concern. guilt flashes across his features, and he can't help but groan, running a palm over his face in frustration. did he just loose you for good?

you shut the apartment door behind you, and the tears begin falling down your face at a rapid pace. your lips tug into a frown, a sob wracking through you as you lean back against the door.

cora rounds the corner at the sound, her eyebrows pulled in concern. "what's wrong?" she breathes, rushing towards you.

"I did something terrible." you admit through your stuttering gasps, looking at your roommate with a million different emotions.

"honey..." she coos, wrapping you in a hug. your tears intensify as cora squeezes you in the embrace, and you bury your face in her shoulder to mask your desperate cry.

Epilogue

“god miller! just kiss me already!”

“no, not like this!”

you groan, falling into the couch cushions. the scene on the tv illuminates the room, the late afternoon sun hidden behind the blackout curtains you’ve had drawn since this morning.

nick and jess from new girl have not only been giving you entertainment all day while you mope around, but they’ve also been stupid cute and in love—it makes you want to die.

you’ve only been two places since the chaotic ending to last night; your bed which you cried in all night, and the couch which obviously you also cried on. you keep running through the events of yesterday—the breakup with lucas, finding matthew in the hallway, borderline confessing your feelings to him…kissing him. it felt good—so so good.

but just like that it was snatched from you, and the guilt riddling your body is just nerve wracking and wrenching. while you were kissing matthew, the last thing you were thinking about was lucas, and the possibility of him finding you both like that wasn’t even in your mind. but it happened and now everything feels like a mess—and you feel like an awful person.

you’ve clearly hurt lucas—that much was evident in the awful things he said to you. when you told cora everything last night, eyes stinging with tears and snot dribbling from your nose, she was quick to remind you that lucas never treated you good, and that no matter what he shouldn’t of said that to you.

your phone buzzes against your thigh, making you sit up—brows furrowed in question.

lucas

are you home?

you pause the tv quickly, all while reading the text over and over again as you try and make sense of it. what does he need? does he want to talk? is he going to yell at you? is he simply just curious? does he want to fix your relationship?

you hold your breath as you shakily type your reply.

y/n

yea

you exhale as it goes through, and in habit you bring your thumb to your lips, nerves consuming you as you begin gnawing on the skin around your nail.

your phone buzzes with an incoming message again.

lucas

can I come talk?

you swallow, sitting up straighter as you read his message. this can’t be good, you think—you’ve done nothing positive in the last twenty four hours that warrants a civil talk with your ex. you desperately want to ignore him—throw your phone across the room and get back to new girl on the tv.

a show that you only started watching because it’s matthew favourite—your brain reminds you. you look down at your phone again, thumbs hovering over the keyboard as you contemplate.

you deserve not only closure, but happiness—not matter what.

y/n

sure

you barley have a minute of speed running the apartment, picking up the empty tub of ice cream and what feels like hundreds on snotty tissues from your crying, before there’s a knock at your door.

even if you didn’t know he was coming over, would could tell it was lucas by the weight of the knock. it was soft, almost hesitant—like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to actually be at your door. it always sounded like that.

before you back out, you pull open the door, revealing yourself to a deadpanned face lucas who’s standing with his hands shoved in his pockets. he gulps, eyeing your figure briefly. “can I come in.”

you nod reluctantly, stepping to the side to create enough room for him to slip inside your apartment. lucas sends you a forced smile as he enters, moving through your place like he’s done many times before.

the door shuts with a gentle click, but the room is so tense and quiet it sounds like a bomb. you follow suit, walking into the living room where lucas stands stagnant—eyeing around the apartment with an unsure expression. suddenly his eyes meet yours, “did you cheat on me?”

“no.” you tell him. “I would never cheat…on anybody.”

he sniffs, the sound annoying and disgusting—it’s like he’s trying to stay calm. “but you like him, right? you like matthew?”

you’re so used to trying to please him that you want to stay quiet—because you know if you admit your feelings for his friend, everything is going to completely change…more than it already has. and as lucas looks at you now, his gaze nothing but knowing, you decide you’re done trying to hide from him.

“I do.” you confirm. “but nothing ever happens, and…I didn’t even know when these feelings started. i’ve been so confused for the longest time, and I was scared because I didn’t want to disappoint anyone.” you pause, wringing out your trembling fingers as you collect your next thoughts. “but i’m sick of doing things for everyone else…and I need to let myself be happy—whatever that ends up being.”

lucas stay silent for a moment, but you can see his mind running a mile a minute. his eyes dart all over you, analyzing your face and body language—you’ve never seen him look at you so intently, and it has you wanting to shy away.

he sighs, eyes flickering to yours. “I’m sorry, y/n—for everything.”

your shoulders deflate, and you feel the emotion you’ve been suppressing since lucas texted you coming back to the surface. “thank you. i’m sorry too.”

“can I give you a hug?” his hesitance is evident, looking at you like he’s unsure of your response—how you’ll react. looking at him right now, you can’t be mad at him. not about your relationship, the breakup or the name he called you in his rage. lucas is a good guy, you know that—he’s just not the guy for you.

“yeah.” you breathe. “i’d like that.”

lucas takes the three steps of distance between you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders as he brings you into his chest. your hands find place around his waist, holding him against you in a wordless goodbye. his cheek rests on the top of your head, a comforting gesture that has your eyes flickering shut.

he takes a deep breath—his words quiet as he speaks. “I think we met for a reason, y/n. and that reason is matthew.” you feel lucas swallow against you, like he knows what he just said is the final nail in the coffin—everything starts now. “have you noticed how he looks at you?”

you pull back, and watch as the corner of his lips begin to turn upwards—the faintest smile growing. lucas may not like it, but he’s accepted it, and it’s feels better than anything you could imagine. your own smile begins to show, and you nod. “I have.”

matthew knies was an enigma—a giant, infuriating mystery that you never expected to entangle yourself in. but if there’s one thing you’ve learned in the past few months, it’s that you’re easily intrigued, especially when the enigma has always cared for you, no matter how rude and stupid you acted towards him.

perhaps you never hated matthew, but rather the way he made you feel. you hated the idea of being in love with him because you had a boyfriend, so you'd turn into an easily irritated girl, who secretly wanted nothing more then the attention of the boy down the hall. the boy who was more of a boyfriend than lucas could ever be. the boy who you don't hate, but love.

of course, there’s still the lingering feelings of confusion and nervousness—because you don’t know where you and matthew will go from here.

but later in the day, on you way back from your evening class, as the elevator doors open to your floor and matthew stands there—a grin growing on both your faces at the mere sight of one another…you think you have an answer.

───────── ౨ৎ ─────────

playlist

every breath you take (i'll be watching you) by the police

pushing it down and praying by lizzy mcalpine

wrong by zayn

your needs, my needs by noah kahan

do I wanna know? by hozier (cover)

each time you fall in love by cigarettes after sex

if I can't be with you by olivia obrien

I would by one direction

[bangchangbinnie]

The Door That Shouldn’t Have Closed c.b

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader

Chan’s anger drives y/n out into the cold

(I love writing angst and worn out plots YIPPEEE)

The apartment was warm with the scent of home—his home, which over time had become their home. The overhead light cast a soft glow on the wooden floors, reflecting against the large window that framed the city skyline in the distance. The gentle hum of the heater filled the quiet air, a comfort against the cold that lingered outside.

Y/N sat cross-legged on the couch, her laptop open in front of her as she absentmindedly sipped on a cup of tea. The ceramic mug was warm in her hands, the steam curling into the air as she scrolled through pages of job listings. Living in Korea had been a whirlwind, a mix of excitement and challenges, but with Chan beside her, it felt worth it. He had reassured her time and time again that she didn’t have to worry, that she didn’t need to rush into finding work, but she wanted to—needed to. She wanted to feel like she belonged, like she wasn’t just lingering in his world without purpose.

Her gaze flickered over to the sleek black laptop resting on the edge of the coffee table, its screen glowing with an unfinished project. Chan had been working tirelessly on a track, pouring every ounce of his energy into fine-tuning the smallest details. It was his everything—the beating heart of his career, of his passion, of him. She knew how much it meant to him.

Maybe that’s why, when she reached for her phone and accidentally nudged the edge of the coffee table, her heart stopped as the laptop teetered, wobbled, and in the slowest, most horrifying second of her life—

—crashed to the floor.

The impact was deafening in the silence. The sharp crack of metal and plastic colliding against hardwood rang in her ears, freezing her in place. Her breath hitched as she scrambled forward, hands trembling as she turned the device over. The screen was black, unresponsive, the keyboard slightly misaligned from the fall. Her stomach twisted into a sickening knot.

No, no, no, no—

“Y/N?”

His voice came from the hallway, muffled but laced with exhaustion. Heavy footsteps echoed as he approached, and before she could even attempt to explain, he was there—standing in the doorway, his tired eyes locking onto the sight before him.

For a moment, there was only silence.

Then, in an instant, the exhaustion in his face was replaced by something else entirely. His features hardened, lips parting as if trying to process what he was seeing.

“What—” His voice caught, eyes flicking between her and the laptop. “What the hell did you do?”

“I—I didn’t mean to,” she stammered, panic lacing her words as she held the laptop up like an offering. “It was an accident, I swear! I barely touched the table, and it—”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” His voice rose, sharp and cutting. He stormed forward, snatching the laptop from her hands. His fingers ghosted over the edges, flipping it open, pressing the power button over and over again. Nothing. “Do you have any idea how much was on here?”

“I know, I—”

“No, you don’t know.” His words came fast, heated, filled with frustration. “That was weeks—months of work! Gone. Just like that.” His jaw clenched, his fingers tightening around the broken laptop as if willing it to come back to life. His breaths were ragged, uneven, his head shaking as he let out a bitter laugh. “God, Y/N, do you even think before you do things?”

The words hit like a slap. She flinched, hands curling into fists in her lap. “I said I didn’t mean to,” she whispered, voice small, fragile. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry doesn’t fix this!” His voice cracked, raw and unrestrained. “You don’t get it, do you? Fuck! This isn’t just some random thing you broke—this was everything I’ve been working on. Every file, every project, every unfinished song—it’s all gone now because you couldn’t be careful.”

Tears burned behind her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She knew he was upset, knew that this was important to him, but the way he was speaking to her—like she was careless, like she didn’t care—it stung in ways she couldn’t describe.

She swallowed, forcing herself to keep her voice steady. “I’ll help you fix it,” she tried, reaching out. “There are data recovery places, we can—”

“Just stop.” His tone was sharp enough to cut. “Just… stop.” He ran a hand through his curls, his shoulders rising and falling with each labored breath. His eyes flickered with something unreadable, something dark and stormy. Then, before she could say anything else, he did something she never expected.

“Get out.”

The words were low, clipped, but they sent dread washing over her.

She blinked. “W-What?”

“You heard me.” His gaze was unwavering, lips pressing into a thin line. “I can’t deal with this right now. Just… go.”

The air in the room turned suffocating.

Go.

Leave.

He was kicking her out.

Her chest tightened, heart hammering against her ribs as she slowly stood. “Chan… I—I don’t have anywhere else to go,” she admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

For a split second, something flickered in his expression—regret, hesitation—but it vanished just as quickly as it appeared.

“I don’t care.”

The words settled like lead in her stomach. Her hands trembled as she grabbed her coat, slipping it on with numb fingers. The apartment that once felt like a sanctuary now felt cold, foreign, unwelcoming. She didn’t beg, didn’t plead—if this was what he wanted, then she wouldn’t fight.

She turned towards the door, fingers hesitating on the handle. One last time, she glanced over her shoulder. He was standing there, back to her, running a hand through his hair as he stared blankly at the broken laptop on the table.

She bit her lip, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.

Then, she stepped out into the night.

The cold hit her instantly, biting through her thin coat as she wrapped her arms around herself. The streets were quiet, the distant hum of traffic the only sound accompanying her as she stood there, frozen, unsure of where to go.

She had nowhere. Nowhere but him, and now… not even that.

The apartment was eerily silent, save for the rhythmic ticking of the clock hanging above the kitchen. Each second that passed felt like a taunt, like it was counting down to something he didn’t quite understand but could feel settling into the pit of his stomach like a weight.

Chan sat hunched over on the couch, elbows resting on his knees, fingers tangled in his curls. The broken laptop sat on the coffee table in front of him, its cracked frame a haunting reminder of everything that had transpired just hours ago. His jaw was tight, his breath shallow as his mind replayed the argument on an endless loop.

The way her voice had wavered. The way her hands had trembled. The way she had looked at him—like he had gutted her.

And then she was gone.

At first, he had told himself he didn’t care. That he needed the space. That she needed to understand how much she had screwed up. The frustration had still been burning too hot in his veins for him to feel anything else.

But now?

Now, the embers had long since cooled, leaving only the empty ache of realization.

It had been hours.

And she still hadn’t come back.

His knee bounced anxiously as he pulled out his phone, unlocking it with swift fingers. No messages. No missed calls. Nothing.

His stomach twisted uncomfortably. Where the hell was she? She had said it herself��she had nowhere else to go.

His mind reeled with possibilities, none of them good. Was she wandering around aimlessly? Sitting on some freezing bench in the middle of the city? God, what if something happened to her? Korea wasn’t dangerous, but that didn’t mean she was safe. She wasn’t fluent in the language, she didn’t have family here—hell, she barely had friends. She had him.

And he had thrown her out.

A sharp breath shuddered from his lips as he ran a hand over his face. His body was buzzing with nerves now, his earlier anger replaced by something far worse—guilt.

How could he have been so stupid?

Yeah, she had broken his laptop. Yeah, it hurt knowing all that work was lost. But was it really worth the way he had spoken to her? The way he had made her feel so disposable, so unwanted?

His chest tightened as he remembered the way she had looked at him when she had whispered those last words—I’m sorry.

He had told her he didn’t care, but that was a lie.

He cared too much.

And now he had no idea where she was.

Chan shot up from the couch, grabbing his coat and shoving his feet into his sneakers with hurried, frantic movements. He didn’t bother turning off the lights or locking the door—none of it mattered. The only thing that mattered was finding her.

The second he stepped outside, the cold slammed into him like a brick wall. The temperature had dropped significantly since earlier, the kind of cold that seeped into your bones, merciless and unrelenting.

She wasn’t prepared for this.

Panic clawed at his throat as he moved down the dimly lit streets, scanning every alleyway, every bench, every corner. Where the hell was she?

He pulled out his phone, dialing her number with shaking fingers. It rang once. Twice. Three times.

Voicemail.

“Shit,” he hissed under his breath, shoving the phone back into his pocket. His heart pounded wildly, each beat a deafening reminder of how badly he had messed up.

Then, just as he was about to turn another corner, he saw it—

A small figure curled up on a bench just beneath a flickering streetlamp, her head tucked against her knees, arms wrapped tightly around herself.

His breath caught in his throat.

Y/N.

He rushed forward, kneeling down in front of her, his hands hovering over her shaking form. She was trembling violently, her coat barely doing anything to shield her from the brutal cold. Strands of hair stuck to her damp cheeks—had she been crying?

Guilt slammed into him like a freight train.

“Y/N,” he breathed, his voice tight. She flinched, her shoulders tensing at the sound of his voice, but she didn’t look up.

Chan’s heart cracked wide open.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, finally reaching out to touch her, his hands carefully settling on her arms. She was freezing. Ice-cold. His stomach churned. “Baby, what are you doing out here? Why didn’t you go somewhere warmer?”

A bitter, shaky laugh slipped from her lips, muffled against her knees. “Where?” she croaked, voice hoarse, barely above a whisper. “You told me to leave, remember?”

Chan felt physically sick.

“Y/N, I—” He swallowed, his throat tightening. “I didn’t mean it. I was angry, I—I wasn’t thinking. But I never wanted this. I never wanted you out here like this.” His voice broke, raw with regret.

She sniffled, finally lifting her head just enough for him to see her face. Her eyes were red-rimmed, her cheeks blotchy from the cold and her tears. The sight of her like this—because of him—made his chest constrict painfully.

“You didn’t stop me,” she whispered. “You just let me go.” Chan’s breath hitched. There was no excuse for that. None.

He exhaled sharply, his hands gently cupping her face, thumbs brushing away the stray tears still clinging to her skin. His fingers were warm—too warm against her freezing face.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured, his voice breaking under the weight of his guilt. “I was an idiot. I was cruel. I should’ve never let you leave, I should’ve never—” His voice cracked, his forehead pressing against hers as his hands cradled her gently. “Please, baby, please come home.”

Y/N swallowed, her lips quivering. “Are you still mad?”

Chan shook his head instantly. “No. God, no. The only thing I’m mad at is myself.” He pulled back just enough to look her in the eyes, his own gaze brimming with emotion. “I don’t care about the laptop. I don’t care about the files. I care about you. And I swear, I will never, ever make you feel like that again.”

A shaky breath escaped her lips. For a long moment, she didn’t say anything, just stared at him with that same exhausted, heartbroken expression that made his insides twist painfully.

Then, finally, her body slumped against his, her face burying into his chest.

Chan let out a breath of pure relief, his arms wrapping around her tightly, securely, as if he was trying to shield her from the cold, from the night, from everything.

“I’m so sorry,” he murmured into her hair, pressing desperate, lingering kisses against her temple. “I love you, I love you, I love you—please don’t ever think for a second that I don’t.”

Her fingers clutched onto his coat weakly, and after a long pause, she whispered, “Take me home.”

Chan swallowed past the lump in his throat, standing and pulling her up with him, his arms never leaving her as he guided her back toward the place she should have never had to leave in the first place.

And as they stepped into the warm embrace of their apartment, Chan vowed to himself—

He would never let his anger cost him her again.