#then he walked into the hall and was like 'Everyone look at him'

[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).

19.9k (…whoops)

warnings: 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.

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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

[d3v1ls4dvocat3]

Doomed

James “Bucky” Barnes x Fem! Reader Smut

Summary: When Bucky notices the new neighbor, he can’t seem to get her out of his head! Whatever will he do?

W.C: 1600

Tags: Smut!, pervert! Bucky, panty thief! bucky, guilty bucky?, mentions of lingerie, AFAB! Reader, age gap but it’s not specified, male masturbation, breast fixation, nipple fixation, p in v? kinda? it doesn’t actually happen, Bucky POV, mentions of steve, mentions of war and Buck being the Winter Solider

MDNI!! Let me know if I missed anything!!

He remembers the exact day you moved into the apartment across the hall.

It was only a few days before the new year. Everyone on the floor had seemingly left to be with family, not that he bothered to keep track of his neighbors whereabouts, but he had noticed the overall lack of people when he made the unfortunate trip out of his apartment to see his therapist every other day.

That made your appearance even more noticeable.

Bucky liked to keep track of everyone he saw day-to-day anyway, it helped calm his nerves (rather he told himself it calmed his nerves) and luckily enough for him, you didn’t want to stop and introduce yourself.

Over the next few weeks, he only saw you a handful of times. You both never said anything, barely even looked at each other. It was nice.

Of course, nothing lasts forever. His therapist was sure to tell him that, much to his distain. Strangely enough, it was on one of his trips coming back from another session with Dr. Raynor that he found you cursing to yourself standing outside your apartment.

A part of him wanted to just walk by, and avoid the headache altogether. But he could hear a quiet voice in his mind that sounded a lot like Steve telling him to man up and help a poor lady in need. He sighed mentally and cleared his throat to grab your attention.

You looked up with slight shock and embarrassment. “Oh.. uhm, I’m not in your way am I?” You asked.

He frowned. “No, sorry. You look like you’re having some trouble there?”

Your eyes seemed to light up. “Is it that obvious?”

Bucky chuckled lightly and stepped closer to you, offering a hand of assistance. You gladly handed him your key.

“This building is old. These keys get stuck all the time. You’ve gotta know how to turn it to get it to unlock,” Bucky said as he fidgeted with your lock.

You watched him with unwavering eyes. Unknowingly to you, he was watching you out of the corner of his eye. This was the first time he’d really gotten a good look at your face. You were young, way younger than anyone he’d talked to recently. Most likely a college student. You held yourself with confidence but not in a way that made you seem cocky. You just had a sense of determination he hadn’t seen in a long time.

It was refreshing. Reminded him of sunlight.

He immediately frowned at that thought and focused his attention on your lock. Within a moment a quiet ‘click’ sounded through the small hallway. Your face lit up with a smile so bright he almost had to look away.

“Oh my god, thank you! I seriously thought I was fucked there,” You exclaimed.

He nodded and stepped back. “No problem. You can come get me if it does it again. I’m pretty much always home.”

You smiled again, gentler this time. “I will. Seriously, thank you. I really appreciate it.”

He watched you escape into the comfort of your home. He smiled, unbeknownst to himself and turned to his own apartment.

Cute.

_____

The next time he saw you was only a few weeks later.

Since the door fiasco, Bucky couldn’t get you out of his head. He wasn’t sure why, but something about you was like a breath of fresh air. He felt almost addicted to it, to how he felt at that moment.

So when he opened the door to the laundry room he was understandably surprised to see you. He was also even more surprised to see you in nothing but pajama pants and a very very small tank top.

And no bra.

He was going to turn around. Laundry could wait. Just as soon as his hand hit the door knob, he heard an intake of breath.

“It’s you!”

He sighed.

Bucky turned back around and smiled. “It’s me.”

You were smiling that same damn smile. He felt weak in his knees.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!” You said happily.

He nodded. “I don’t get out much.”

You hummed in understanding. “I get that. I’m still getting used to the city myself.”

It was quiet for only a moment, before you noticed Bucky’s small basket of laundry. You quietly moved over and motioned to the washing machine.

“I’m almost done with the dryer,” You said. Bucky muttered a quiet ‘thanks’ and began throwing his clothes into the washer. Once he was finished you both sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes.

“I don’t think I ever got your name…?”

Bucky himself was surprised at the question that came from his mouth. You also seemed surprised for a second before grinning.

As you said your name, he watched your lips form the word. Your name fit you, he thought. He whispered it to himself, trying to commit it to memory. Although, he was sure just like everything else about you, he wouldn’t forget it.

“James,” He said in return.

“Nice to officially meet you, James,” You practically purred. He felt his knees go weak again. He feared that might be a common occurrence around you.

As the silence fell over you again, Bucky began to struggle with his most recent thoughts. He questioned why he was acting like a teenager with a crush again?

Bucky had been through more than twenty men combined. He’d done things so horrible he couldn’t even speak about it. He’d seen things that would make anyone want to commit suicide. So why, out of all things, was a girl making him feel so weak?

He quietly looked over at you again. He traced the outline of your figure. Your hair down to your eyelashes. His eyes moved to your lips, plump and wet from where you’d licked them while talking.

He continued trailing down until his eyes stopped on your breasts. He felt guilt wash over him immediately at the practically sinful sight before him. He could perfectly make out your tits. The cold air in the room had made your nipples perk up just enough to poke through the already thin tank top.

Bucky glanced away quickly as the buzzer from the dryer sounded. He turned slightly to hide his tightening pants. You bent over to grab your clothes and he practically called out to god to strike him dead right there before he made a fool of himself.

It felt like years before you were up again and leaving the room. Before you closed the door, you waved bye to him. Bucky had to force every once of what he’d learned as an assassin just to seem normal enough to wave back.

Once the door closed behind you, he groaned and put his face in his hands. He tried to calm his breathing, using some of the techniques Dr. Raynor had taught him in one of their very first sessions. It was probably close to ten minutes before he felt okay enough to remove his hands from his face.

Bucky needed to calm down. You were just a girl. There was absolutely no reason to be feeling like this.

He repeated that to himself as he took his clothes out of the washing machine. As he went to throw them into the dryer, a small bright red thing caught his eye.

He grabbed it before he could even process what it was. He held up the laced piece of clothing he wasn’t sure would cover anything and knew he was doomed.

“Fucking dirty girl…”

_________

He was a pervert.

He knew he was a pervert. He felt guilty and ashamed and terrible.

However,

The thought of you wearing nothing but those red laced panties and a matching bra had been plaguing Buck’s mind. He couldn’t stop. He’d tried. He’d done everything he could think of.

He’d taken a cold shower.

He’d gone for a run.

He even tried to watch some of the movies that Steve had written down in his journal of things he “absolutely needs to watch and listen to” or whatever the blond had said.

Nothing could get that image out of his head.

It was three in the morning when he was fed up and aching and he needed release. He hadn’t meant to grab them. He was simply caught up in the moment. His hand stroking up and down his cock. He moaned and stroked faster.

Once the soft fabric touched his tip, he had to stop himself from instantly cumming.

“Oh fuck…” He moaned. Bucky wrapped the thong tightly around his hand. In his mind, he imagined your hips rubbing up and down his hard on. Teasing him in every way you knew would rile him up.

“Something wrong, Barnes?”

He groaned. He was fucking up into his fist now. He imagined flipping you over, grabbing your hands with his metal one and using his other one to squeeze your breasts.

He imagined kissing down your stomach until he got to those red panties and slowly, sensually kissing down them until you were begging to feel him. Begging him to touch you.

“Say my fucking name, doll,” He moaned.

He imagined your hands wrapped around his back and he mercilessly pounded into you. He imagined your soft lips wrapped around his full length, with your bright eyes filled with tears as you looked up at him.

He cursed.

“Nice to officially meet you, James.”

Suddenly he was cumming into his fist. He continued to stroke his cock until he was spent. As he calmed down, he looked down to see the mess he’d made with your undergarments.

“Fuck.”

He was seriously doomed.

[itsnesss]

𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬𝐧'𝐭 | minho (xo,kitty) × fem!reader

summary | after spilling coffee on the arrogant yet popular minho, you are forced to accompany him to a gala as compensation. although you initially feel out of place in his luxurious world, you uncover his hidden loneliness, revealing a more vulnerable side of him

warnings | fluff, mention of anxiety and insecurity, public embarrassment, disparaty dynamics

word count | 2.1 k

author's note | it would help me a lot if you liked, commented and reposted so that more people read what I write and don't forget to follow me, thanks ᡣ𐭩

You wake up late, as always. It's not your fault that your alarm clock has the incredible ability to ignore you when you need it most. With your eyes still half-closed and your hair a complete mess, you rush to the campus café. Time seems to be working against you, but upon arrival, you breathe a sigh of relief seeing the line isn’t as long as you feared.

While waiting for your turn, you check your phone, mentally organizing the rest of your chaotic morning. When you finally get your coffee, you hold it with both hands, enjoying the warmth as you search for an empty table. You're so absorbed in your thoughts that you fail to notice the human obstacle directly in your path.

Everything happens in a second. You trip. Your coffee flies, almost in slow motion, toward someone unlucky enough to be too close. The hot drink lands squarely on that person’s jacket, creating a disaster of epic proportions.

"What the hell did you just do?!" a male voice exclaims, full of indignation.

When you look up, you find yourself face-to-face with a guy whose perfectly styled hair frames an expression of absolute horror as he inspects the damage to his jacket. You recognize him instantly: Min Ho, the guy everyone talks about at KISS. His fame doesn’t just stem from his flawless appearance but also from his arrogant attitude and apparent disdain for anyone who doesn’t meet his high standards.

"I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, I didn’t mean to," you stammer, pulling a tissue from your bag and trying to clean up the mess.

"'Didn’t mean to'?" he repeats, brushing your hand away with disdain. "Do you even know how much this jacket costs?"

"I can… I can pay you back," you offer, though you know full well that would be impossible.

He looks at you incredulously, as if you’ve just said something completely absurd.

"No, you couldn’t," he finally says, crossing his arms. "But I have a better idea."

"What is it?" you ask, unable to hide your suspicion.

Min Ho smirks, but it’s not a friendly smile. It’s the smile of someone about to dictate your sentence.

"You’re coming with me to a charity gala tonight. Consider it your way of making up for this."

You open your mouth to protest, but he’s already typing something into his phone. A second later, he shows you the screen with an address.

"Eight o'clock. Don’t be late."

And with that, he turns and walks away, leaving you standing in the middle of the café, completely stunned.

At seven-thirty that evening, you’re standing in front of your mirror, questioning all your life choices. You’re wearing the only decent dress you own, a simple design you bought for a special occasion years ago. While it’s nothing spectacular, you hope it’s enough to not look completely out of place at the kind of event someone like Min Ho would attend.

When you arrive at the address he gave you, an enormous event hall lit up with golden lights, all your fears are confirmed. The people entering and leaving look like they’ve stepped out of a fashion magazine, and you can’t help but feel completely out of place.

"You’re just in time," says a voice behind you.

You turn around and see him. Min Ho is impeccable, as always, in a black suit perfectly tailored to him, probably costing more than your entire wardrobe.

"Not bad," he comments, looking you up and down with a raised eyebrow.

"Thanks… I think," you reply, feeling a bit awkward.

He offers his arm, and though you hesitate for a moment, you decide to take it. As you enter the hall together, several people turn to look at you. You wonder if it’s because of how strange it is to see someone like you next to someone like him or simply because Min Ho has that effect on people.

The gala is as luxurious as you expected. Tables adorned with elaborate centerpieces, a buffet that looks like it belongs on a cooking show, and a group of musicians playing live on a small stage. Min Ho introduces you to some of his acquaintances, all of them just as arrogant as he is.

"Where’d you find her?" one of them asks, a dark-haired guy with a mocking smile.

"It’s a long story," Min Ho replies with a shrug. "But I thought she was… interesting."

You’re not sure if that’s a compliment or a disguised insult, but you decide not to dwell on it. Throughout the night, you realize this isn’t your world. But you also notice something interesting: although Min Ho acts like he fits perfectly here, there are moments when he seems distracted, almost bored.

At one point, the two of you find yourselves alone in a corner of the hall.

"Why did you bring me here?" you ask, unable to contain your curiosity.

"Why not?" he responds, but his tone is less arrogant than you expected.

"This doesn’t seem like something you enjoy."

Min Ho is silent for a moment, looking out at the crowd.

"It’s not," he finally admits. "But sometimes, you don’t have a choice."

"What do you mean?"

"Nothing," he says, shaking his head as if trying to erase the moment of vulnerability. "Come with me."

Before you can protest, he grabs your hand and leads you out of the hall. You walk through the city streets, illuminated by lights, until you reach a street ramen stand.

"Is this for real?" you ask, unable to hide your surprise.

"What? Never had street ramen before?" he replies, with a smile that, for the first time, doesn’t seem arrogant.

You sit next to him, still bewildered by the turn of events. As you eat, Min Ho seems more relaxed, more human.

"Why are you doing this?" you ask, looking directly into his eyes.

"Doing what?"

"Pretending you’re perfect, like you don’t care about anything or anyone."

Min Ho is quiet for a moment, staring at his bowl of ramen.

"Because it’s easier that way," he finally admits. "If people think you don’t care about anything, they don’t try to get close to you."

"That sounds… lonely."

He shrugs but doesn’t disagree.

"Maybe it is."

For the first time, you see Min Ho as more than just an arrogant guy. You see someone who wears a mask to protect himself from the world, someone who probably has more insecurities than he lets on.

"Well, at least tonight, you’re not alone," you say, offering him a small smile.

He looks at you, and for a moment, it seems like he’s about to say something important. But instead, he just smiles.

"Thanks."

[superficialdomina]

Down Under - Epilogue

Word count: 1.2k

Warnings: 18+; minors DNI. After-effects of a debaucherous night. References to past sexy activities. Mentions of medical stuff. A teeny bit of fluff.

Part 5

Series masterlist

A/N: That's it, folks! Thank you to everyone who joined me in this absolute ridiculousness - I have appreciated every one of you so much.

Epilogue

You awoke on a transport bed, surrounded by the hum and click of medical machinery. Your head was pounding like the worst hangover of your life.

Bruce was hanging a serious-looking plastic bag above your head; it was only when you traced the line that you realised it was connected to a canula in your forearm.

“Welcome back,” he said with a smile. “How’re you feeling?”

“Ugh. Awful. What’s in the bag?”

“Just fluids. Y’all had a pretty rough night.”

Rough… It all came flooding back to you. The lab. The flask. The wild, uninhibited hours spent entangled with the pale, beautiful, trickster god.

“Oh God,” you muttered, then realising how they must have found you, “oh Christ - did the Captain see me naked?” You lifted your hands to cover your face in humiliation; your entire body protested at the sudden movement, and you were abruptly aware that you were very, very sore.

Banner looked surprised, and a little horrified. “No! No, when we got there you were passed out under a blanket, and Loki was meditating on the other side of the pool.”

Loki. True to his word, his priority had been to protect you. What did he tell them?

“Is he – alright? Wait, what do you mean, “got there”? Where am I?”

You finally had the wherewithal to take in your surroundings. You were in what seemed to be a makeshift medical bay in a large canvas tent; through the open tent flaps, you could spot the finger-like protrusion of Sundial Peak pointing up into the sky. It looked like early evening.

“You’re back at the Hall’s Gap base camp. Loki’s fine. Exhausted. He – he carried you down.”

You stared at him. “Carried me… What?”

“I mean, the rest of us – me, Thor, Cap, all of us – we took turns at the other end of the stretcher. But he took the front handles the whole way down. Insisted.” He shrugged.

It was all too much to process. You swallowed, then tried a different tact.

“Am I – cured? I mean,” you shook your head to clear it and instantly regretted it. “The fungicides... It wasn’t – what was it?”

“Ah – yeah. Sorry about that. Not a fungus, it turns out – a parasite. Those meds never had a chance.”

A parasite. You shuddered. “And – what, you’ve developed a cure already?” Even for a genius being bankrolled by Tony Stark, that seemed fast.

“Oh. Ah, no. It was…”

“Oh ho, she’s awake!” Ray’s sharp accent stabbed through the peaceful evening air. “Those antimalarials work a treat, eh?”

“I don’t…”

“It was Ray’s idea, actually,” Bruce explained. “Once we figured out that it was a parasite, we broke into the village pharmacy and grabbed a few doses of chloroquine. Tony’s got a team in town now, distributing it to the residents.”

“So, what – Loki and I were the guinea pigs?”

“Ah – no,” Banner said again, shifting awkwardly and looking anywhere but Ray’s direction. “No, we… ah – we three…” He trailed off, cheeks a delightful shade of pink; you understood very clearly what he, Ray and Thor had been engaged in when you’d tried to call the previous evening.

“Best night I’ve had in twenty years,” Ray said with a grin and a wink. “The big one’s got quite the weapon on him. Anyway - you’d better go tell that brooding mate of yours that you’re back in the land of the living.”

You looked to Bruce, whose face was still bright red. “Is that alright? Can I get up?”

“Yeah, if you can keep this above your head.” He handed you the saline bag attached to your arm; you tried awkwardly to lift it above you, but everything hurt too much.

“Here,” Ray offered, “how’s this.” She wedged the plastic handle of the bag into the jagged end of her walking stick, then planted the stick in your hands. “Oughta keep ya pretty upright, anyway.”

You stood, and for the first time, you noticed you were wearing your own clothing; another one of Loki’s gifts, no doubt. You took one wobbly step, then another, until you were confident that you could move about on your own, then followed Ray out of the med bay.

You found Loki at the edge of the lake, skipping stones across the water. He looked up at the sound of your footsteps, and you both spoke at once.

“Loki, I’m so sorry—”

“Please accept my apologies—”

You looked at him quizzically. “Loki… It was all my fault. I broke the flasks. If it hadn’t been for me, we never would have…” You stopped at the look on his face.

“Actually,” he said softly, “the culture flasks were sterile. The Doctor believes it most likely that we were infected upon close proximity to the rats.”

The dead rats in the lab. Or rather, in Loki’s interdimensional pocket. Or wherever they were now.

You hadn’t been aware of the guilt you were carrying until the weight of it was lifted. Now, you felt the heady rush of relief. Sterile. Not my fault. Almost unconsciously, you sat down beside him.

“…ask again that you please accept my deepest apologies,” Loki was saying. He bowed his head and lifted his hand to his chest.  

You were quiet for a moment, then said, “Banner told me what you did. Bringing me down off the mountain. I… Thank you. And thank you for… for staying with me.”

The corner of his mouth edged up into a smirk, and he raised his eyes to yours. “If I may boast,” he said in response, “the drugs they gave us had not yet taken effect when we brought your stretcher back to camp. It was the hardest” he paused for effect, “hike of my life.”

You imagined him sporting a raging hard-on as he carried you down the mountain, and laughed.

“You know the other three…”

“Oh, I heard. Your compatriot shared extensive details. A ‘Thorgy’, I believe she termed it.”

“Oh God, please don’t say any more.” Still laughing, you gave an exaggerated shudder. Then you sobered. “Um - how are you now? Recovered?”

“What exactly are you asking, darling?”

 “What? No! I mean – I just wanted to make sure…”

He smiled. “I jest, of course. I will be fine. A little more wary of abandoned research animals in future, but that only seems prudent.” He reached out and took your hand. “And you? Are you… well?”

You stared down at your hand, clasped in his. It was ridiculous – pathetic, really – that this simple touch could elicit the flutter of nervous warmth now inching up your arm. Not after… After everything. And yet you found yourself hoping he wouldn’t let you go.

“Yeah, I’m… I’ll be OK.” You gave his hand a small squeeze. “So – so that’s it, then?”

“That is it.”

You stood, trying to pull your hand from his grasp. But Loki held tight.

“Unless…”

You swallowed. “Unless?”

“Dinner. Next Saturday evening? My apartment. As I said, lefse is only truly delicious when it is fresh off the griddle.”

Tags in comments! xx

[wttcsms]

anatomy of desire, satoru gojo

part ii. initial incision

with mysterious circumstances centering around a first year med student’s “suicide”, you do something stupidly noble: reporting to a detective that you saw satoru gojo slipping out the backdoor of the very same building yu haibara supposedly jumped from. in doing so, you start a twisted, sick game of cat-and-mouse with the most powerful and insane student on campus. the only thing keeping you alive? the fact that satoru gojo is apathetic towards everything and everyone, besides you. ( fem!reader )

chapter contains mentions of suicide, the first confrontation between you & gojo!!!!! word count 3.9k [ previous ] [ next ] [ masterlist ]

“You know, it’s perfectly normal to still be in shock after what you’ve just witnessed,” the blond haired detective sitting across from you pushes the tiny paper cup of tap water towards you. Your mouth is dry, but you don’t trust yourself enough to stop your hands from shaking and not spilling water everywhere, so you ignore it. 

Detective Junji Wakimiya looks no older than his early thirties, but he carries himself high, with all the experience and stature of an experienced, older gentleman. He has perfect posture, and you’re not sure how much they’re paying him to work as a police officer, but the suit he’s wearing is perfectly tailored to fit his body. Chances are, it’s a department store suit and not designer, but it still looks good nonetheless. His voice is deep, but when he speaks to you, it’s almost as if he’s taking care in saying the words gently, like he doesn’t want to scare you. 

Maybe he just wants to lull you into a false sense of security. 

After all, he reminds you that this isn’t an interrogation, and that you aren’t called in here because you’re a suspect, but rather a witness. And then, before you can ask, he clarifies that no one here is a suspect because yes, something awful has happened here tonight, but until he gets all the facts sorted, whether this “something awful” was a crime or just someone’s final choice remains to be decided. 

“Apologies for making you relive through this ordeal once again, but I’ll need you to reaffirm for me the timeline of events from your viewpoint.” He takes a sip out of his own cup, as if to signal to you that it’s safe for you to drink your own, but you swallow your spit and clear your throat before repeating what you’ve just told him.

“My name is [Name] [Surname]. I’m currently a senior studying journalism here at Tokyo Metropolitan College. Earlier today, I overheard a student having a secret conversation by the vending machines near Murakami Hall, which is where a majority of liberal arts majors have their classes. I didn’t recognize the voice, and I was being nosy when I chose to eavesdrop. I heard him mention on the phone that after tonight, he would ‘be set for life,’ and I was curious as to what he meant by that. So, I got a good look at him, saw that he was a medical student, found him online, and then I started to follow him. I lost sight of him for a few minutes while talking to a classmate, and by the time I entered the laboratory building, I was exhausted and decided that this was stupid. As I walked out, I heard the screams, and that’s when I—” 

You choke up on the last part of your statement. When you blink, you see Yu Haibara’s crumpled up body smack dab on the pavement, his blood streaming out, leaving streaks that the school’s landscaper will have to pressure wash out. 

“—that’s when I saw Haibara’s dead body.” You whisper out the last part, and Detective Wakimiya is nice enough to not make you repeat your statement once more. 

“I see.” He says, setting down his cup. “As a senior in college, you must be considering postgrad jobs now, right?” 

You’re not sure what this detective is trying to get at, but you nod slowly. 

“You seem to be bright. Very ambitious, with the way you seem to want to… How did you put it? Hunt for a good story?” The small talk — is there a bigger picture here, or is he just trying to put you at ease? You know you shouldn’t be paranoid; it’s not as if you’re being suspected of a crime or anything, but after your statement was given, you were certain that you were going to be let go. 

“How do you know what’s a good story or not?” 

“Pardon?”

“What makes you want to chase down a lead over others?” 

“Um… It sounds stupid, sir, but I get a gut feeling.” You mumble, feeling awkward and like a child. “An instinct, I guess? You know, like… When you feel like someone’s watching you, and you turn around, and someone is. It’s a weird sense.” 

He nods. “Interesting. And so, when you chose to follow Haibara, you got this feeling as well?”

“Yes, sir.” 

“Quite a story, wouldn’t you agree?” 

You wait a few seconds before replying. “Yes, sir.” 

“You’ve got good instincts, then. Even if things don’t necessarily turn out quite the way you anticipate them to. That’s just how life goes.” He leans over the table, reaching for his recorder and stopping the recording. “Even if things get scary, like I’m certain tonight was, you should still listen to your instincts.” 

You look at him curiously. Just an innocent piece of advice from a well-meaning adult? Whatever it is, you agree. “I will, sir.”

“I’m sure you have a busy day ahead of you tomorrow, what with your classes and whatever else a college girl gets up to.” Detective Wakimiya is funny in the way he seems to think he’s some sort of old man. He acts like it. 

He gives you a reassuring smile before pulling out a business card. “Here’s my number and email. If anything else about this night, anything that you might have forgotten to add to your statement, comes to mind, please reach out. I’m available at any time.” 

“Yes, sir.”

You see Yu Haibara’s face everywhere the following day. 

The picture everyone seems to be using is the same: a headshot photo of him, probably from his most recent undergrad graduation. His hair is a little shorter than you remember, but he’s smiling wide for the camera, practically beaming. He looks cheerful, happy — excited for the future, even. It hasn’t even been twenty-four hours yet, and Haibara is already haunting the halls of this college. 

There are posters and flyers tacked up on the walls of every building on campus. There’s going to be a candlelight vigil held in his honor tomorrow night; you’re not sure who the hell could possibly organize an event that big on such short notice, but in tiny, barely there font, you’re not entirely surprised to see EVENT GENEROUSLY FUNDED BY THE GOJO FAMILY. 

If you open up any social media, even LinkedIn, there are nothing but memorial posts for him. Selfies of him and other students, throwback photos, and embarrassing videos. He even has his own personal hashtag: #YuWillBeMissed. Classy. 

Last night, he was haunting you, too. When you closed your eyes after your interrogation with the detective, all you could see was Haibara’s accusatory face. You’re not sure why he’s blaming you, of all people. Maybe he’s upset with you because you couldn’t mind your own damn business. Whatever his beef with you inside your head is, you couldn’t get a good night’s sleep. And when you open the doors to the Tokyo Metropolitan Student Journalism clubroom, it’s evident you’re not the only one who couldn’t rest.

Even now, the team in charge of the school’s paper is going insane. You walk into a storm — the copier is running at full speed, and when it gets jammed (because school printers can smell fear and anxiety; they will never work when you need them the most), one of the editors for the paper curses and kicks it. A few juniors are furiously typing away at their laptops, and unlike most mornings, no one even acknowledges your arrival with a polite “good morning”. Even Sakura, for once, looks serious. 

“For the love of God, this is awful advice. We need to be instructing people on how to properly dress at this funeral. Three inch heels at a candlelight vigil is serving cunt! Four inches is giving insensitive bitch who doesn’t care about anyone besides herself!” Sakura points furiously at a line some freshman writer must have typed up in their draft. “In twenty minutes, we need a perfect edition for today’s paper. Does this look perfect to you?!” 

Tucked away in a corner of the room, you see this semester’s exchange student whispering in her phone, staring wide-eyed at the fit Sakura is throwing. 

“Osamu,” Kotori says, clutching her phone like it’s a lifeline. “I really can’t wait to be back in Osaka.” 

There are good schools in Osaka. After surveying the mess here, you even consider asking her if you can tag along with her.

It’s a sick, vain — insensitive, even — thing to notice, but you can’t help it. A majority of the girls here must have heeded Sakura’s sage advice and opted for sleek, shiny three-inch high heels. Not a single heel in sight appears to be any higher.

You suppose the noble pursuit of serving cunt is always preferable over being a bitch. Especially when you’re attending an event to remember a dead classmate.

Your peers have enough decency and decorum, at least, to keep the complaints of their heels getting stuck in the grass to a minimum. You’re honestly shocked at the amount of people who are in attendance; with the low acceptance rate and exclusivity of the school, it’s hard not to find a familiar face. Every med school student must be here, though; if even the liberal arts and STEM undergrads could make it, surely they could. 

“I heard there’s going to be a dinner afterwards,” a voice pipes up from next to you. Startled, you turn to your right, only to see Kotori beaming at you. 

“Really? Who’s catering?” You fiddle with the candle you’ve been given; everyone gathered in the main square was handed one. 

The food being served at a memorial should be the least of your concerns, but when your meager stipend barely covers cup ramen and protein bars, your stomach jumps for joy at the prospect of a meal that comes with a side of vegetables and an actual entree. 

“The Gojo family is hosting, but I heard a rumor that it’s going to be steak and lobster. So, it must be true.” 

If Haibara is inescapable, Gojo must be his shadow. He lingers around after every thought you have of Haibara, and you don’t know why, but it leaves a bad aftertaste. You briefly wonder what his interrogation with Detective Wakimiya was like. Probably nothing more than a conversation glazing the Gojo family. That’s how most interactions with older adults go for him. You’ve heard, once, that Gojo and the professors often have a funny dynamic. He makes it out to where it seems like they’re doing him a favor, but really, anybody on this campus would kill for a chance to be in his good graces. 

So what exactly was Haibara’s relationship with Gojo? They must have been close enough to where Gojo felt so bad, he would want to host and sponsor a candlelight vigil for him. Everyone around you who murmurs an anecdote about Haibara seems to only have positive things to say about the boy. Apparently, he was bright and ambitious, friendly and helpful, funny and a little weird, in a good, boyish way. He was a total open book. No one could see him killing himself. Someone even thinks he must have just accidentally fell. 

That’s the fan-favorite theory at the moment: that it must have been a bad accident. That Haibara probably was just fooling around, or trying to film a TikTok, and then he died. As morbid and awful as it makes you sound, a fleeting thought occurs.

Maybe he was pushed. 

It’s gone the minute the vigil starts, though. You don’t know why you even think that; too many true crime podcasts must be rotting your brain. That, and maybe the guilt of you basically stalking the poor guy during his last few moments on earth. 

I’ll be set for life. 

He probably was just trying to go viral on TikTok. Boys do stupid shit for online views all the time, and while Haibara must be intelligent enough to attend this school on a scholarship, it’s not like he was immune to bad decisions. Instead of worrying about the why behind his fall, though, you turn your attention to the elevated platform on the square. There’s a podium set up; usually the dean or a guest speaker will come here to give a speech, but tonight, it’s Satoru Gojo. 

Much like everyone else here, he’s dressed in all-black. Black long sleeve button down, black slacks, shiny black loafers. He walks up to the podium, but he’s not greeting the audience with his signature smile that he seems to always wear. Instead, he looks devastated. A few strands of his hair are hanging in his face as his head bends down. You watch the rise and fall of his chest, like he’s trying to practice a few breathing exercises. The crowd went silent the minute he came into view, and they’re still silent now. When Satoru Gojo is around, the world stops for him. No matter what.

After a few more seconds, he finally lifts his head, greeting the crowd with an obviously tight, forced smile. He messes with the microphone for a bit before addressing the audience. 

“Good evening,” his voice is hoarse, almost as if he’s been crying before he went onstage. Between that, and his uncharacteristic disheveled appearance, he might have been. Crying, that is. It’s weird — thinking about Gojo crying. It sounds insensitive, but you never thought of him as someone who experiences the sad and disappointing emotions other mere mortals are privy to. “I suppose the reason for why we’re all gathered here tonight needs no introduction.” He takes a deep breath. Someone is already bursting into tears. 

“Yu Haibara is — was — what I considered to be a beacon of hope in my life. He was bright. Not just in an academic sense, but something about him always radiated pure joy. As his upperclassman, I was assigned as his “buddy” during his first year orientation. I remember meeting him for the very first time, and being taken aback. I mean, we all talk about the baby first year glow, how med school hasn’t hit them yet, but damn—” Gojo lets out a sad laugh, shaking his head. “He was something else. I could tell from just lookin’ at him that nothing was going to dull his shine. He always had a positive outlook on everything, was always an optimist. I’ve never met anyone quite like him.” Gojo’s voice has a bit of a tremor to it, and more people are tearing up as they watch him grip both sides of the podium, as if to keep him stable. 

“I’m afraid that I’ll — that we’ll — never meet anyone like him ever again.” 

Gojo continues on with his speech, talking about all the things Haibara talked about accomplishing, how confident Gojo was in his potential. That Haibara was hilarious and the best junior anyone could ever ask for. That the Zenin School of Medicine will never find another student as bright and bold and ambitious as Haibara. That he’ll be missed. That Gojo has a lot of love for him, but that he hates the choice Haibara made; that despite it all, he’ll still always harbor a lot of love for him. And at the end of his speech, he reveals that the Gojo family will start funding a scholarship in Haibara’s honor, using Haibara’s name, so that way his impact will never truly die. That his spirit will still remain as strong as ever here at this college. 

Gojo’s the first to light his candle, naturally. He holds it up high, almost as if he’s aiming for the night sky. Too bad there isn’t a single star to be seen tonight. 

“To Yu Haibara!” 

Someone else sets their candle aflame, bringing the flame to someone else’s unlit wick, and eventually, going down the line, your candle gets lit, too. You share your flame with Kotori, and once the square is glowing with the comforting orange warmth only several hundred candles can provide, everyone raises their candles high.

“To Yu Haibara!” 

In the following seconds, everyone is silent and solemn. The mourning lasts only as long as the time it takes for Gojo to descend from the platform, and the conversation immediately starts back up again. All signs of despondency seem to evaporate the minute Gojo’s loafers hit the grass, and the crowd immediately parts to make way for him. 

Groups of people rush to him, to compliment him on his speech, to let him know that they’re always going to be here for him if he needs a shoulder to cry on. Every step he takes, he’s never not being bombarded by people. When he makes it closer to where you’re standing, Sakura inches towards him. 

“That was such a beautiful speech, Gojo.” She says, pretending to dab at the corner of her eyes with her black silk scarf. Sakura didn’t tear up once during the ceremony, and she would never dare to risk smudging her makeup in front of Gojo. “And you’re so strong for being able to stand up in front of us and talk about such a good friend without completely breaking down. It must have been awful to see his body, right? I know so many saw him before the cops could come and shoo everyone off—”

“Thanks,” he smiles at her, his hands tucked in the pockets of his slacks. “Between you and me? I had to hold back my tears a few times.” She gasps, staring at him with wide eyes before nodding. He’s about to walk off, but then he adds, “Fortunately, what got me through was probably the fact that I didn’t ever see his body. I was in the medical school’s library preparing for an exam all night when that happened. Wanted to avoid the sight at all costs, too, so I couldn’t even stomach opening any social media.” 

You’re not eavesdropping, you rationalize. Granted, you’re not even hunting for a story, so you’re not sure what your justification for listening in on their conversation is. It’s their fault for having a conversation so close to you, anyway. Anyone with ears can hear them. 

But your stomach is lurching now; gone is your appetite for steak and lobster. Instead, you can feel yourself being filled with dread. 

During Gojo’s “emotional” speech, you were taken aback at just how torn he was. Haibara must have truly been a close friend if Gojo’s voice is shaking when speaking about him. He even needed to grip the damn podium to keep himself upright. 

Maybe it’s because it’s so dark in the nighttime, but you couldn’t help but notice how there was no true force or stress in his grip; no familiar sight of white knuckles from holding something so tightly. And his eyes — they’re obviously the most captivating feature of his. The type of blue that’s only seen in one in every one hundred million, you’re sure. But they’re not red-rimmed or puffy, and during the speech, there was no shine that would indicate he’s on the verge of tears. And you’re certain it’s all in your head when you’re punched with the same realization that the emotion Gojo portrays to his audience never reaches his eyes. Everything about him outwardly screams a boy heartbroken over the death of a good friend. He’s full of grief, but his eyes remain as empty as ever. 

You’re not going to dwell on it any more than that; at least, you weren’t going to. Now, after hearing what he just told Sakura, you’re conflicted. 

You know what you saw that night. You saw him. You saw him. Why would he lie about his whereabouts? 

Your heart is pounding as he walks past Sakura, slowly but steadily making his way closer to you. You should just let him be; everyone handles grief differently. Maybe he was just dissociating during the speech. Maybe trauma is making him want to bend the truth a little bit. Maybe he’s beating himself up over not being there to stop Haibara, and that’s why he’s pretending he wasn’t at the scene of the crime. 

No — you forcibly remind yourself. There is no “scene of the crime.” There wasn’t a crime committed. 

But that instinctual feeling in your gut intensifies the closer Gojo gets, and it’s now or never. Right before he can slip away, you reach out for him, tugging at the fabric of his sleeve, near his wrist. He pauses, turns a bit, looks down at you.

Has he always been this tall, this imposing?

“Yes?” Despite you rudely grabbing at him, he’s nothing but cordial. You swallow hard, bringing your voice to a whisper. 

“Were you there?” 

“Pardon?” He’s smiling, but he tilts his head in confusion. “There… as in where, exactly?” 

“At Old Kashimo Laboratory. When Haibara died.” You clarify. 

“Ah, I wasn’t. I had an exam to study for, so I spent all night in the library.” He blinks, before frowning. “I wish I was there, though. I’ve been wondering if there was anything I could have said or done to change the outcome of that night…” 

Your gut twists, and you swallow hard. “But that’s the thing, Gojo.” You don’t want to say it; there’s a part of you that protests, and the stronger side of you, the one that says maybe you shouldn’t leave this unanswered, dictates that you do. “Why are you lying about being at the library?” You say it so softly, you’re not even able to hear yourself speak.

But he does. You know he does, because the look in his eyes turns cold, colder than you’ve ever seen them. For the first time, you see a glimpse of emotion behind his icy blues. But it isn’t grief, and it isn’t anger. You don’t know what it is, and you almost regret grabbing his sleeve in the first place. 

“That’s a pretty harsh accusation to make.” Gone is his cordial tone. You resist taking a step back from him. “A pretty baseless one, too.” 

“I saw you.” You dare to look him in his eyes. “That night. You were leaving out the back door of the building, and a minute later, Haibara’s body was found. I don’t know the med school’s campus all that well, but the library certainly isn’t behind that old lab, is it?” 

Gojo stares at you for what feels like forever. You’ve never been scrutinized before, but you wonder if this is what a cell under a microscope feels like. The feeling of being completely and utterly exposed is a scary one, and it sounds so silly. Who is scared of friendly, kind, golden boy Gojo? 

No one is. But right now, the man staring you down isn’t the Gojo you’ve heard stories about. 

You blink, and he’s back to smiling at you, almost as if the conversation you two shared never even happened. Maybe it never did. Maybe you’re the crazy one. 

“Well, it was nice chatting with you.” He’s speaking at his normal volume now. “Hey, what was your name again?” 

He poses it as a friendly question, but you know better. 

“[Name].” 

He repeats it back, obnoxiously slow, sounding out the vowels and all. “Pleasure to meet you, [Name]. I hope I see you soon.” 

Somehow, he’s made a pleasantry sound like a threat.

[blondemrk]

°˖ medical love ១ requested!

p marklee× fem!reader w.c 4.6k t.w death,blood,angst.

the hospital had settled into a strange rhythm, as it always did after midnight. the controlled chaos of the day had dwindled, leaving behind the quiet hum of machines and the occasional shuffle of feet echoing through the halls. it was the kind of silence that forced you to confront the weight of the day, and tonight, the weight seemed unbearable.

you stepped out of the operating room, tugging your gloves off with a snap. the faint scent of antiseptic and the metallic tang of blood clung to the air, but you hardly noticed anymore—it was just part of the job. you were tired, the kind of bone-deep exhaustion that blurred the edges of everything. still, something caught your eye as you turned toward the scrub room.

mark lee was sitting on the floor outside or 3, his back pressed against the pale green wall, his knees drawn up. his head hung low, and his hands were tangled in his dark hair. the sight stopped you in your tracks. mark wasn’t the type to sit down, let alone sit down like this.

you took a step closer, your sneakers squeaking softly against the tile. “mark?”

he didn’t respond, didn’t even lift his head. his shoulders rose and fell in shallow breaths, the only indication that he’d even heard you.

you tried again, softer this time. “mark, are you okay?”

he let out a sound that was somewhere between a sigh and a bitter laugh. when he finally looked up, the expression on his face made your chest tighten. his eyes, usually bright and full of determination, were rimmed red and clouded with something you could only describe as defeat.

“she didn’t make it,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

you lowered yourself to the floor beside him, ignoring the cold tile against your scrubs. “who?”

mark stared straight ahead, his jaw tightening as he fought to keep his voice steady. “ten years old. she was in a car accident on the way back from her piano recital. her mom was driving. the car flipped, and she…” he swallowed hard, his adam’s apple bobbing. “by the time they brought her in, it was bad. massive internal bleeding. her heart stopped on the table twice. we got her back the first time, but the second…” his voice broke, and he scrubbed his hands over his face, leaving smudges of dried blood on his skin.

you felt your own throat tighten. you’d seen countless patients in critical condition, but children were different. they always were. the fragility of life seemed sharper, crueler, when it was someone so young.

“mark,” you said gently, your voice cutting through the heavy air. “you did everything you could.”

he let out a humorless laugh, his hands dropping into his lap. “that’s what they always say, isn’t it? ‘you did everything you could.’ as if that makes it hurt less. as if it makes it okay to walk out of that room and tell her parents that their daughter’s gone.”

you didn’t respond right away. instead, you studied him, taking in the way his hands trembled against his knees, the way his shoulders sagged under the weight of the night.

“you know that isn’t true,” you said finally. “it’s not just something we say. it’s the truth. you did everything humanly possible to save her.”

his head turned toward you, and the look in his eyes made your heart ache. “then why does it feel like i failed her? like i failed everyone?”

“because you care,” you said simply. “and because you’re human.” mark shook his head, his lips pressing into a tight line. “what’s the point of these hands if they can’t save someone like her?” he held them up, his fingers trembling slightly.

without thinking, you reached out and took his hand in yours, wrapping your fingers around his to steady them. “these hands have saved more lives than i can count,” you said firmly. “and they will save more. but you’re not a god, mark. none of us are. sometimes, no matter how good we are, it’s not enough. that doesn’t mean you failed.”

the silence that followed was thick, the kind that stretched and pressed against your chest. mark’s gaze dropped to your hands, still clasped together. his fingers twitched slightly, but he didn’t pull away.

“you’ve lost patients before,” he said after a long moment.

“i have,” you admitted. “and it never gets easier. but you learn to carry it. you carry them. and you keep going because the next patient needs you just as much.” he nodded slowly, as if trying to let the words sink in. his grip on your hand tightened, just for a moment, before he let out a shaky breath.

“i don’t know how you always know what to say,” he said, his voice soft. you smiled faintly. “i don’t. but i know what it feels like to sit here and think the weight of the world is your fault. and i know what it feels like when someone reminds you it’s not.”

mark’s lips curved into the faintest hint of a smile—a ghost of his usual confidence. “thanks,” he said, the word simple but heavy with meaning.

you squeezed his hand one last time before letting go. “anytime.” for a while, neither of you moved. you just sat there, side by side, letting the silence do what words couldn’t. and in that quiet moment, the crushing weight of the night felt a little easier to bear.

hospitals thrived on chaos, and over the next few weeks, the er seemed to exist in a state of perpetual motion. ambulances pulled up one after another, dumping cases that ranged from minor injuries to full-blown emergencies. the surgeons were stretched thin, constantly scrubbing in and out of surgeries, barely getting time to breathe.

you and mark crossed paths more often than not, your shifts overlapping in what felt like a cruel joke played by fate. but instead of feeling burdensome, there was a strange comfort in his presence.

it started with small moments—a quick exchange of updates during rounds, a passing joke in the break room, or a knowing glance across a crowded or. you found yourself seeking him out, your eyes scanning for his familiar figure among the flurry of activity. and more often than not, he was there, matching your pace like a partner you never asked for but somehow needed.

one night, after finishing a particularly grueling appendectomy, you stumbled into the break room, desperate for caffeine. the coffee pot was empty, of course. you groaned, leaning heavily against the counter, debating whether the effort of making a new pot was worth it.

“rough night?”

you turned to see mark leaning against the doorway, a tired but amused smile tugging at his lips. he held out a fresh cup of coffee, steam curling from the rim. you raised an eyebrow. “did you just read my mind?”

he shrugged, stepping closer. “you looked like you needed it more than me.” you took the cup gratefully, savoring the warmth as it seeped through your hands. “i’d thank you, but i’m too tired to be polite.”

mark chuckled, his laughter soft but genuine. “i’ll take it as a compliment.” he grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge and sat across from you, leaning back in his chair. “how many hours are you running on?”

“don’t ask,” you said, grimacing. “it’s depressing.”

he nodded knowingly. “you’re telling me. i almost asked one of the med students to remind me what year it is.”

the image made you laugh, and the sound surprised you. it felt foreign, almost out of place in the sterile confines of the hospital. but it also felt good.

moments like these became more frequent. you started to notice the little things about him—how he ran a hand through his hair when he was thinking, how he always had a spare pen tucked into his pocket, how his voice softened when he spoke to patients’ families. he was sharp and quick-witted, but there was a tenderness to him that you hadn’t expected.

the turning point came on a rare quiet night. the er had settled into an unusual calm, giving the staff a chance to catch their breath. you and mark found yourselves alone in the surgical lounge, reviewing charts.

“i think i forgot what silence feels like,” you said, breaking the stillness. mark looked up from his tablet, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “don’t jinx it. the second you say that, the pagers will go off.”

you laughed softly, leaning back in your chair. “fair point.” for a moment, there was nothing but the faint hum of the vending machine. then mark spoke again, his tone more serious this time.

“do you ever wonder why we do this?”

you frowned, tilting your head. “what do you mean?”

“this job,” he said, gesturing vaguely to the charts in front of him. “the hours, the stress, the… everything. we lose so much of ourselves to this place. why do we keep coming back?”

you considered his question carefully. “because the good moments outweigh the bad,” you said finally. “even if they’re rare. that feeling when you save someone, when you give them a second chance—that’s worth everything.”

mark’s gaze lingered on you, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “yeah,” he said quietly. “i guess it is.”

the weight of his stare made your pulse quicken, but before you could say anything, the familiar trill of a pager shattered the moment.

“trauma incoming,” he said, glancing at his.

you nodded, already on your feet. “guess the silence is over.”

“guess so.”

as the two of you rushed out of the lounge, side by side, you couldn’t help but feel that something had shifted.

the days blended together in a blur of emergency calls, surgeries, and brief moments of quiet that were often too short to catch your breath. but somehow, despite the chaos, you found yourself gravitating toward mark more and more. his presence was like a steady anchor amidst the storms of your daily life—comforting, but also quietly intense in a way you couldn’t ignore.

there were moments when you’d catch him looking at you with an unreadable expression, his eyes lingering just a little too long before he’d look away. it was always when the two of you were alone, usually after a particularly difficult surgery. the tension was subtle but palpable, and you weren’t sure if you were imagining it or if he was feeling it too.

one evening, after a particularly grueling trauma case, you found yourself sitting beside him on the rooftop. the night air was cool against your skin, and the sounds of the city below seemed distant, almost peaceful compared to the whirlwind of the hospital. you’d both escaped for a brief reprieve, needing a break from the constant demands of your jobs.

mark leaned back against the low stone wall, staring up at the stars. you mirrored his position, your arms folded across your chest for warmth.

“do you ever think about what we do?” he asked, his voice quiet but thoughtful. you glanced at him, frowning slightly. “what do you mean?”

he took a deep breath before answering, his gaze still fixed on the sky. “i mean, we save lives every day. we do everything in our power to help people. but sometimes… it feels like it’s never enough, you know?”

you knew exactly what he meant. it wasn’t just the long hours or the physical toll; it was the emotional weight that lingered, the feeling that despite all your best efforts, you couldn’t save everyone. sometimes you couldn’t even save yourself.

“i get it,” you said softly, your voice tinged with the same exhaustion. “it’s why we keep pushing. but there’s only so much we can do before it starts to wear you down.” mark was quiet for a moment, and when he finally spoke again, his tone was more somber. “i don’t think i’m cut out for this anymore.”

the words hit you like a punch in the gut. you turned to face him, your heart skipping a beat. “what do you mean? you’re one of the best surgeons i know.”

he sighed, his shoulders slumping. “i used to think i was doing this for the right reasons, but lately, it feels like i’m just going through the motions. like i’m losing touch with the reason i started this in the first place.”

you studied him closely, seeing the exhaustion in the lines of his face, the weight in his eyes that you hadn’t noticed before. there was more to it than just the job. you could tell.

“mark…” you hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. the space between you felt different tonight—thicker, heavier, as if the walls that usually kept you both at a safe distance were beginning to crack.

he turned his gaze to you, his expression guarded, but his eyes were vulnerable in a way that made your chest ache. “i don’t know what i’m doing anymore. i don’t know if i can keep pretending like i’ve got it all together when i don’t.”

you felt a rush of empathy, the weight of his words settling in your chest. you could relate more than he realized.

“you don’t have to pretend with me, mark,” you said quietly, your voice breaking the tension between you. “you don’t have to do it alone.”

there was a long pause, as if he was weighing your words. then, finally, he spoke again, his voice barely above a whisper. “i don’t know what to do anymore. i’m so damn tired of pretending.”

you reached out, resting a hand on his arm, offering a silent comfort that you weren’t sure would be enough. but it was the only thing you could offer. and in that moment, as the night stretched on around you, you felt the distance between you close just a little bit more.

the days that followed were a blur of surgeries and patient rounds, but there was something different in the air. an unspoken understanding lingered between you and mark. you both carried the weight of the hospital together, but now, there was something else—a connection that neither of you had acknowledged, but both felt.

you noticed mark’s eyes lingering on you more often, his smile softening when you spoke. and when you looked at him, you saw something different too. something that made your heart race just a little faster and your thoughts scatter.

it was after a particularly long shift that it finally happened. you were both in the break room, grabbing a quick snack before heading out for rounds. your conversation was light, filled with small talk and the kind of easy banter that had come to define your moments together.

but as you finished your meal and prepared to leave, mark stopped you. “hey,” he said, his voice low, but with a seriousness that caught you off guard. you turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “yeah?”

“i’ve been thinking about what you said the other night,” he began, taking a deep breath. “about not having to pretend.”

you felt your heart skip a beat. “and?”

“and i think… maybe it’s time i stopped pretending.” his gaze softened, and for a moment, you thought you saw something in his eyes—a flicker of hope, maybe. but then it was gone, replaced by his usual stoic expression.

you stepped closer, your pulse quickening. “what do you mean?”

mark hesitated, his fingers running nervously through his hair. “i mean, i’m tired of hiding behind this wall. i’m tired of pretending that everything’s fine when it’s not. maybe i need someone who understands what it’s like to be in this—someone who doesn’t just see the surgeon, but the person underneath it all.”

your breath caught in your throat as the words hung between you. his eyes were searching yours, as if waiting for you to say something, anything. and in that moment, you realized how much you had come to care about him—not just as a colleague, but as someone who shared the same struggles, the same heartache, and the same need for connection.

“i’m here,” you said quietly, stepping even closer. “you don’t have to go through this alone.”

and as mark closed the distance between you, his hand gently resting on your arm, you knew that whatever came next—whatever challenges you faced in the hospital, whatever insecurities and fears you both carried—you would face them together.

the weeks after that night on the rooftop passed in a blur of shifting dynamics. the connection between you and mark was no longer subtle; it was there, undeniable, even if it was still tentative. neither of you had put a label on it, but the moments you shared were enough to make your heart race in a way you hadn’t anticipated.

there were times when mark would linger after rounds, walking beside you down the hall, exchanging a quiet word or an inside joke that made the rest of the world fade away. he seemed to be more present now, his once-distant demeanor softer, as if the weight of his thoughts had lifted—at least a little. but with that shift came new challenges.

one late afternoon, the hospital was chaotic as usual. the sounds of the er echoed through the hallways—pagers going off, medical staff rushing to and fro, and the steady beep of monitors. you were in the middle of stabilizing a patient after a traumatic car accident when you heard your name being called.

“y/n!”

you glanced up to see mark hurrying toward you, his face tight with urgency. his eyes locked onto yours, and for a moment, you saw the familiar strain in his expression—the same one you’d seen the night he opened up to you about his doubts.

“what’s going on?” you asked, moving toward him instinctively.

he didn’t answer right away, his lips pressed together in a thin line. then, without warning, he grabbed your arm, guiding you into a quieter part of the hospital. “mark, what’s happening?”

he stopped just inside an empty conference room, his back to you as he ran a hand through his hair. when he turned around, there was a new kind of tension in his gaze. “i need you to help on a procedure with me. it’s urgent,” he said, his voice unusually clipped.

you raised an eyebrow. “what’s the rush?”

“just trust me.” his eyes softened slightly, but the concern in them was clear. “it’s complicated. i need your expertise.”

something in his tone made your stomach tighten. you didn’t need any further explanation. you nodded and followed him back to the or without a word.

the procedure was grueling. the patient’s internal injuries were extensive, and the time spent trying to stabilize them felt like it stretched on forever. both of you worked in sync, each movement seamless as you followed the rhythm of the operation. but as the hours dragged on, the stress began to show.

you noticed how mark’s brow furrowed with concentration, his hands steady but his eyes flickering with doubt as the situation became more complicated. he’d glance at you more often now, his expression a mix of trust and desperation.

the room grew heavy with the weight of what was happening. time seemed to freeze, your every move calculated and precise, as though you were both operating on autopilot.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, you and mark exchanged a brief glance. he gave you a small nod, his lips pressed in a thin line. it wasn’t much, but it was a signal—a recognition of your shared strength in the face of crisis.

after what felt like an eternity, the patient stabilized, and the immediate threat was over. the two of you stepped back, wiping sweat from your brows and exchanging a tired look.

“good work,” you said quietly, your voice hoarse from the tension of the past few hours.

mark didn’t respond right away. instead, he wiped his hands and took a step closer to you, his expression unreadable.

“thank you,” he said, his voice low. “i don’t know what i would’ve done without you in there.”

you met his gaze, and for a moment, everything else in the room seemed to disappear. there was something in his eyes—a mix of gratitude, admiration, and something deeper that you couldn’t quite name. before you could say anything else, the moment was broken by the sound of the door opening. a nurse walked in to update you both on the patient’s condition. you both straightened up, falling into professional mode once again, but the connection between you lingered in the air, unspoken yet heavy.

it was a few days later when things came to a head. the hospital had quieted down, the frenzy of the past week finally dying down to the usual low hum. mark was finishing a round when you bumped into him in the hallway. he was looking down at his phone, but when he saw you, his eyes softened slightly.

“hey,” he said, tucking his phone away.

“hey.” you smiled, and for a moment, the weight of the hospital life seemed to melt away. it was just the two of you in this small moment of peace.

“i was thinking about what happened the other day,” mark began, his voice hesitant.

you frowned, a bit unsure of where this conversation was going. “what do you mean?”

“the procedure,” he clarified, his gaze meeting yours. “how you stayed calm. how you just… took charge. i don’t know what i would’ve done without you.”

“you would’ve figured it out,” you replied automatically. “you always do.”

mark shook his head, stepping a bit closer. “no, i don’t think i would have. you didn’t just help me in there, y/n. you… you made me believe that i wasn’t alone in this. you’re not just a colleague. you’re…”

he trailed off, his words hanging in the air between you. the tension in his expression deepened, his vulnerability laid bare in that moment.

and you, too, felt the shift—the silent understanding that had been growing between you both. something unspoken, yet undeniable. you took a deep breath, meeting his gaze. “mark, we’ve been doing this for a long time. i think we’ve both been pretending that everything is fine when we both know it isn’t. we can’t keep ignoring this, whatever it is between us.”

mark was quiet for a moment. then, slowly, he reached out, his hand brushing against yours in a simple, yet profound gesture.

“i don’t want to ignore it,” he said quietly. “not anymore.”

and in that instant, you knew. this wasn’t just a fleeting connection—it was the beginning of something more. something that would require both of you to be vulnerable, to face the challenges ahead, and to step forward together, no longer afraid of the space between you.

the days after the procedure were a whirlwind of patient rounds, late-night shifts, and brief moments stolen between surgeries. but through it all, the unspoken connection between you and mark remained, growing stronger with each passing day. it was no longer just a shared understanding of the chaos of the hospital. it was something more—a mutual recognition of the uncharted territory you both had entered, a place that blurred the lines between professional respect and something deeper.

one evening, after a particularly draining 24-hour shift, you found yourself standing by the elevator, waiting for the door to open. your mind was foggy, your body ached from the exhaustion of being on your feet for so long. when the elevator finally arrived, you stepped in and pressed the button for the parking garage, the silence inside the small space almost deafening.

but as the doors were about to close, a hand shot out, stopping them. mark stepped in, his expression weary but still holding that quiet intensity you’d come to recognize. “hey,” he said, his voice low, the exhaustion evident in his tone.

you gave him a tired smile. “hey. didn’t expect to see you this late.”

mark sighed, running a hand through his hair. “i could say the same about you.” he glanced at you, his eyes lingering just a second longer than usual. “how are you holding up?”

you gave a nonchalant shrug, though the truth was, you felt like you were running on fumes. “surviving, i guess.”

the elevator descended in silence, the hum of the machinery the only sound between you. then, just before the doors opened to the parking garage, mark spoke again. “y/n…” he started, his voice a little strained. “i need to tell you something.”

you turned to him, feeling the weight of his words before they even left his mouth. the elevator door opened, and you both stepped out into the dimly lit parking garage. “what's going on?” you asked, your curiosity piqued, but there was a quiet tension in your chest—something that told you this wasn’t just small talk.

mark stopped walking for a moment, his hand reaching out as if to steady himself. his gaze was intense, and for a moment, you saw that vulnerability that had been slowly building between you two—he was struggling with something, something he hadn’t yet shared. his usual calm composure was slipping, and you could feel the weight of it.

“i’ve been thinking about… us,” he began, his voice barely above a whisper. “about how things have been between us lately. and it’s…” he trailed off, struggling to find the right words. “it’s confusing.”

you met his gaze, your heart pounding in your chest. “confusing?”

mark nodded, his expression tight. “i don’t know what’s happening, but every time i’m with you… it feels like there’s something else, something more, that neither of us is saying. i don’t want to ignore it anymore. i can’t.”

the words hit you like a wave crashing over you, sudden and powerful. you stood frozen for a moment, trying to process the emotions that were bubbling up inside you. he felt it too. this unspoken tension between you, this pull that neither of you could deny.

“mark,” you began, your voice quieter than you intended. “i…” you hesitated, your own emotions catching in your throat. “i don’t know what to say. i’ve felt it too, but i didn’t want to—”

but before you could finish, mark closed the gap between you, his hand gently cupping your face. the touch was so tender, it made your breath catch in your throat.

“i don’t want to keep pretending that i’m fine with just being your colleague,” he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “i don’t think i can anymore.”

your heart pounded in your chest as you stared up at him, the distance between you almost nonexistent. his face was inches from yours, and you could feel the heat radiating off him. the space between you, once filled with the weight of unspoken words, was now filled with something undeniable.

“i don’t want to pretend either,” you whispered, your voice shaky. “but this… it’s not just something we can ignore. we can’t pretend like it’s just going to go away.”

mark nodded, his eyes searching yours, looking for some kind of confirmation. “i know,” he said softly. “but i think… i think we should stop pretending.”

before you could answer, mark closed the distance, his lips brushing against yours in a soft, tentative kiss. the world seemed to fall away in that moment, the only thing that mattered was the heat of his kiss and the quiet realization that everything had changed.

the kiss was slow, unsure at first, as if both of you were still processing the enormity of the moment. but as it deepened, the uncertainty melted away, replaced by a growing sense of belonging. mark’s hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer, as if afraid you might slip away.

when you finally broke the kiss, your breath was shallow, your chest rising and falling rapidly. you looked up at him, and for the first time, you saw something in his eyes that you hadn’t before—something raw, something real.

“y/n,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “i’m not sure where this will go. i don’t know what happens next. but i want to find out. with you.”

you took a deep breath, your mind racing with everything you were feeling. the uncertainty, the fear, the excitement—it was all there, tangled together. but as you looked at mark, standing so close to you, you knew that whatever came next, it was something you wanted to face with him by your side.

“i’m in,” you said softly, your voice steady despite the storm of emotions inside you. “i don’t know what this means, but i want to see where it goes, too.”

mark smiled, a soft, genuine smile that made your heart skip a beat. “then let’s figure it out together.”

and in that moment, you realized that, for all the uncertainty that lay ahead, there was one thing you were sure of: you weren’t alone anymore.

masterlist

hey guys!! this was a request! i hope u like it! @thevirginsuicidenotes

[ladykailitha]

The Au Pair Boy Part 11

Hello! And welcome back. You'll be happy to note that this story is now marked complete. It will have a total of 15 chapters that will be released here every Thursday! So I hope you enjoy the ride.

In this we have Steve adjusting to Eddie being home and Hopper runs afoul a creature.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10

~

Steve was adjusting to life with Eddie with some difficulty. Since Eddie did most of his work from home, Steve would turn a corner to do the laundry and be surprised to see someone else in the house.

“You had Chrissy and Wayne here for two weeks each,” Eddie huffed with a amusement the third time it happened. “How are you still surprised to see me?”

Steve’s face turned bright red with embarrassment. “I don’t know. I’d guess that it was because they tended to stay to the guest wing part of this massive house and you don’t.” Eddie raised an eyebrow. “Not that you have to or anything! Just an observation. I’ll get used to it! I promise!”

Eddie chuckled. “I’m not going to lie, having you here sometimes startles me too. I spent nearly a year with just me and the girls and now the house is teeming with people and it’s a bit of a shock to the system.”

“Oh!” Steve cried. “Yeah, I guess it would be. Do you like it better with people or without?”

Eddie smiled that sweet fond smile that melted Steve’s insides every time. But they were extra melty because that was the first time Steve had seen it aimed at him and he felt warm all over.

“Oh it’s definitely better with people,” he murmured. “Especially knowing that you hand picked everyone and would have never picked someone you didn’t trust. You also somehow managed to make the D&D room something other than a shrine to my past. People play in there now. And it’s all thanks to you.”

Steve blushed, ducking his head. “You’re welcome. I just did what you asked me to do, to find people I could work with and that’s what I did. I’m just glad it all worked out for you.”

Just then the girls came barreling through the hall like a herd of elephants.

Eddie and Steve shared a glance and then Steve dropped the laundry basket and they both took off after the girls. They chased them through the house until they were cornered in the kitchen.

“Joanie,” Eddie said darkly, “Janie, you were supposed to be napping.”

Both girls looked at each other then at Eddie and Steve who both had their hands on their hips and crumpled. Joan started with the water works first and then Janice.

Eddie and Steve shared an exasperated glance and eye roll, then Eddie picked up Joan and Steve picked up Janice.

“See how tired you are?” Steve murmured as he rocked Janice back and forth. “You’re crying because you need sleep but you’re fighting it.”

“Come on,” Eddie said gently. “I’ll read you a story for your nap so that you can go to sleep. But just this once. This is what Steve is here for. To take care of you while Daddy works, okay?”

Both girls nodded. But in the end Eddie hadn’t needed to read a story to them because halfway up the stairs, Joan fell asleep and at the top, Janice followed suit. Steve and Eddie carefully tucked them into bed, stuff animals piled up around them as fierce guardians. Eddie slipped out first and then Steve, turning the light off behind him.

As Eddie and Steve walked down the stairs trying to be as quiet as possible, they only were able to breathe once they had reached the bottom.

“I’d put them in their own rooms,” Eddie said with an exasperated huff, “if I didn’t know that they would be sneaking into each others rooms anyway.”

Steve licked his upper lip, nodding, “Oh yeah. But they’re also getting to the point where they’re starting to form their own thoughts and opinions and realizing that they don’t match up to their twin.”

Eddie pursed his lips. “Damned if you do and damned if you don’t.”

“Ain’t that the truth,” Steve said, sighing. “Oh, I wanted to let you know that Dustin called, they’re moving the game to Saturday from their usual Thursdays, Lucas is trying out for the basketball team and they’re all going out to support him.”

“I’ll be sure to let the guys know,” Eddie said. “I’m sure it’ll be fine. It’s not like we’re partying or going out drinking on the weekend anymore.”

“God,” Steve said shaking his head. “I remember my frat boys days and it is not something I care to repeat.”

“When did you go to school?” Eddie asked, “I thought it was the circus and nannying?”

“There was about two years where I decided to get an associate’s degree in early child development,” Steve said with a shrug, “and applying at my dad’s former fraternity helped pay for the education.”

“Wow.”

He shook his head. “I was also nannying for a couple where they only needed me on the week days to make sure someone was home and the kid fed before they got off work.”

“Was that the weird taxidermists?” Eddie asked with a grin.

“That would be them,” Steve replied with his own answering grin. “It got me through college and gave me free weekends to blow my liver out.”

“God,” Eddie said, flopping on the sofa, “I remember those days. Before I met and married Ethan.”

“How did you two meet?” Steve asked, sitting next to Eddie.

“Some award show,” Eddie said, rubbing his eyebrow. “Not the Grammy’s, I’d remember that. Teen Choice Awards or the VMAs. Something like that where it was a mix of models, movie stars, and musicians. And he was the most beautiful thing I’d ever laid my eyes on. He had sea green eyes, coal black hair and a single dimple in his left cheek. I wanted. And the bastard made me chase him. And I did. I think that should have been my first sign he didn’t care for me like I did for him.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said scooting closer to him. He took his hand into his and rubbed his thumb back and forth. “I’m sure there were too many signs to count but because he played happy to the hilt you believed it, because you were happy.”

Eddie scoffed. “Sounds like you’re talking from experience there. Any skeletons in the closet you keep your exes?”

“Loads,” Steve said with a snort. “I don’t date much because usually I’m up to my eyeballs in kiddos, but there have been some absolute chunkers of walking red flags in there. Men and women both. They all seemed to wander in search of other people some times breaking up with me first, but not always. But the unending refrain of why never changed. I was too much... of everything I guess.”

Eddie covered Steve’s hand with his other hand. “I don’t think there is anything you could do that would make me think that of you.”

Steve smiled back. “That’s kind of you.”

The back door bang open and there was a lot of swearing, forcing the two men to jump out of their skins, but somehow not apart.

“Those God damned critters!” Hopper cursed. “When I get my hands on them, I’ll skin them alive!”

Steve and Eddie shared a glance before they both got to their feet and followed the sound of cursing to where the house kept their garbage bins on the days it wasn’t out on the curb. Two of the three cans had been tipped over and riffled through. Hopper, the groundskeeper was standing over top of them with his hand on his hips glaring down at the mess.

“Oooh,” Eddie hissed. “What happened here, chief?”

Hopper looked up at them in confusion as if he had forgotten the house populated at all. He blinked a moment. “I didn’t wake the girls did I?”

Steve shook his head. “It would take a sonic boom going off near their heads to wake them once they’ve actually fallen asleep.”

Eddie chuckled, “They’re like their dad that way.”

Hopper breathed out a sigh of relief. “I was worried I had woken up the littles. As to what happened, raccoons is what happened. They get into the trash and just fuck it up.”

“How do you know it’s raccoons?” Steve asked cocking his head to the side. “Couldn’t it have just been someone messing around or even vagrants?”

Jim rubbed his chin. “Could be, but I used to do security on one of the neighborhood houses.” he said wearily, “and they were having raccoon problems. They put locks on the garbage bins and that was that. I’d suggest you do the same.”

Steve nodded. “And if it’s the other two, the lock would fix both problems as well.”

“Eehhh...” Eddie said with a wince. “If my cleaners were anything other than a single mom and her fifteen year old daughter, then I’d agree with the lock and move on. But aren’t there other things we can try first, like those bear proof bins at Yellowstone or whatever?”

“You’ve been to Yellowstone?” Steve asked tilting his head to the side. “I wouldn’t have thought you were the outdoorsy type.”

“Yup!” Eddie said with a bright smile, rocking back on his heels. “Wayne and I used to travel to all the national parks before I had the girls. We plan are starting back up next year or the one after now that they aren’t babes in arms anymore.”

“I’ll look into get some,” Hopper said clearing his throat so their attention was back at the matter at hand. “See if I can find some approved by the county. I’ve got a friend who’s a wildlife rescuer. Maybe he can loan me some traps so we get the critter some place safer.”

Eddie nodded. “Thank you. I’m sure the girls would appreciate knowing that the animal isn’t going to be harmed.”

Hopper got a twisted sort of smile. “Had a little girl myself once, I know how tenderhearted they can be.”

“I’m sorry for your loss,” Steve murmured, noting the past tense of that statement.

Hopper cocked his head and then shook it ruefully. “Pastor says she’s in better place, ain’t sure if I believe that anymore.”

“I hear that,” Eddie said, “I felt the same way when my mom died. Everyone was telling eight year old me that she was in a better place. When I thought the best place she could be was with me.”

Hopper nodded. “I get to it. I didn’t mean to startle you. Have a good day.” Then he wandered off to find garbage bags to clean up the mess.

“Grumpy, old man,” Eddie said fondly. “He’s good at his job though. How did you entice him away from his other job?”

Steve grinned. “I told him that he could live on the property rent free and be left alone for the most part.”

Eddie threw back is head and laughed. “That would do it all right. And it’s not like I don’t get wanting to be left the fuck alone. He does his job and his does it well. Ten of ten, no complaints from me.”

“I really should get back to doing the laundry,” Steve said jutting his thumb behind him to inside the house.”

Eddie checked his watch. “And I’ve got a Zoom meeting with some weirdo nu metal band who wants me to produce their album. Lord save me from Nu Metal!”

Steve just shook his head and the two of them went inside. Maybe living with Eddie wasn’t as hard as he thought it was.

~

Tag List: ONE SLOT OPEN!!

1- @itsall-taken @estrellami-1 @zerokrox-blog @tartarusknight @gregre369

2- ​@a-little-unsteddie @cryptid-system @maya-custodios-dionach @yesdangerpls @goodolefashionedloverboi

3- @val-from-lawrence @carlyv @wonderland-girl143-blog @irregular-child @bookbinderbitch

4- @bookworm0690 @forgottenkanji @ollieolive @yikes-a-bee @awkwardgravity1

5- @dragonmama76 @ellietheasexylibrarian @thedragonsaunt @useless-nb-bisexual @disrespectedgoatman

6- @counting-dollars-counting-stars @tinyplanet95 @ravenfrog @swimmingbirdrunningrock @lingeringmirth

7- @gutterflower77 @a-lovely-craziness @just-a-tiny-void @w1ll0wtr33 @beelze-the-bubkiss

8- @sadisticaltarts @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @dolphincliffs @steddie-as-they-go @steddieislife

9- @kultiras @morallyundefined @themoonagainstmers @fearieshadow @blondie1006

10- @thesecondfate @wheneverfeasible @depressed-freak13 @genderless-spoon

[starredblood]

NOWHERE GIRL

PART FOUR

kang sae-byeok x fem!reader

synopsis: after facing an intense altercation, it leads you to another one of sae-byeok’s interrogation.

wc. 1.8k

warnings: homophobia, acts of violence, smoking, angst

(nowhere girl masterlist)

The sun was right above your head, scorching it. The brightness of the sun blinds your vision as you make your way to the dining hall. Although everyone around you couldn’t stop talking about how hot the weather is today, your mind couldn’t stop thinking about your brief encounter with Sae-byeok two nights ago.

You kept replaying your time with her at the convenience store. It was an uneventful experience funnily enough; you two sat down in front of the store window quietly eating your food. It seems like there is nothing to analyze about this exchange, but to you, you liked it because of the sheer tranquility. No talking which meant no bickering, you both just sat down sharing the serenity that comes with midnight. You haven’t felt that much peace this past month. A part of you hopes to get that feeling again soon.

Just as you turn a corner into the alleyway you feel yourself bump into a person twice your size.

“Sorry.” you quickly apologize to whoever you collided into and try to usher around them only for them to block you with their body. Eyebrows furrowed, you peer up to see who’s preventing you from walking away.

The guy who is blocking you is tall and buff, freshly buzzed cut, tattoos littering around both his forearms and a cigarette between his teeth.

“You’re Yoon’s friend, right?” he asks, his voice exuding mockery. Two of his friends appear behind him like a couple of bodyguards. You scowl but your mouth refuses to open to talk.

“Yoon told me she let you sleep over at her dorm because—I don’t know you got kicked out of the house or something? Do you mind telling me and my friends why that is, hm?”

“You know the answer to that. Don’t mock me.” you whisper, voice trembling. Your little act of bravery isn’t working.

“Don’t talk to me like that, you fucking pervert.” he sneers. “You came up with that bullshit excuse of getting thrown out by your parent’s house so you can watch Yoon and her roommates change.”

“What?” you gape.

“That’s the problem with people like you…Well, I can’t in good conscience let you go around harassing women for your sick pleasure. Can’t I?” he looks at his friends who grunt in approval.

“Fuck you I never did any of that shit!”

You try walking backwards to escape the situation only to have the guy grip on your arm and squeezing it tightly. The grip he had on you was so tight you were beginning to feel afraid that he might actually rip your arm off of your body. Tears brim from the corner of your eyes and you begin to cry out for help.

“Stop acting so innocent now. You know what you did—and we are the only ones who can fight this injustice your inflicting upon people.”

“Let me go!” you cry, basically plead. “I never did anything you said. P—Please.”

Everything around you suddenly turned white and when you got your field of vision back to normal suddenly you were on the floor. Realization quickly crept up—you just got punched by the main guy, hard. As his friends roar with laughter, he uses one hand to pull you back up by your collar.

“I don’t like liars.” he tuts and with his free hand he grabs the cigarette between his teeth. “I don’t have anywhere to light off this cigarette.”

“Really?” one of his friends speak up, faking an act of innocence. “You got something right here.” he points at you.

They all begin to laugh again while you’re still squirming and hyperventilating. Your vision becomes blurry as you whip your head around hoping that a bystander notices you are in danger and come to rescue you but you see no one. The only thing you can do is think quickly or this situation will turn out even uglier.

You take a deep breath and look in the direction of the three guys, past their shoulders. “Officer right over here!” you shout to no one in the distance.

The guys all whip their heads behind them in fright, thinking they just got caught. That’s when you use your free hand to snatch the cigarette from the main guy and press the burning end of the cigarette on the hand that’s gripping yours. Instead of letting go though, the guy yelps and trips on air causing you both to collapse. You quickly spit in his face, making him flinch back and shout curses at you. He was cursing so loudly that his own spit struck your face.

You manage to wiggle your way out of his grasp. As you crawl away from him, you grab the pack of cigarettes that fell from his pockets then absolutely book it.

Run, run, run is all your mind is thinking. Run, run, run and don’t look back for a second.

✿・・───・・✦・・───・・✿

Sae-byeok thought it was nice of her to spend her only free time to walk to the convenience store with you the other night. After that quiet excursion, she expected you to start coming back to the apartment at a reasonable time.

But no one, not Sae-byeok, not Cheol, or even Ji-yeong has seen nor heard from you today.

Before Ji-yeong pointed fingers at Sae-byeok again she hurriedly explained that she actually settled things down with you, which was a half-lie half-truth situation. Of course, she didn’t buy it. In order to prove herself, Sae-byeok joined Ji-yeong who sat outside the apartment to wait for you. But it was almost one in the morning and Ji-yeong had work in the morning so she dialed your phone one last time, if you didn’t answer she’d go back to the apartment and report you as missing the next night. However, Sae-byeok decided to wait a little longer seeing as she doesn’t have to do anything but drop off Cheol at school tomorrow.

Thirty minutes later, Sae-byeok watches a shadowy figure walk in the direction of the apartment building. She holds her breath, anticipating it was you. When the person got closer she saw the familiar portfolio tote and laptop, that’s when she knew.

Sae-byeok’s face morphs into confusion when notices how you were stumbling, like it was hard for you to walk.

“Are you alright?” she asks. You just kept trudging until you made it to the staircases where you inevitably sat down. Slowly, Sae-byeok makes her way towards you. Something was off she could sense it.

“Yeah.” you say barley above whisper. But she isn’t buying it. She sits beside you, trying to look at your face but you look the other way before she can notice something. “What’re you doing?”

“Are you sick or something?”

“No, it’s just—hey!”

Sae-byeok pushes strands of hair back and caught the purple shiner imprinted on your cheek. You gasp and clumsily cover yourself again.

“Shit.” she says breathily. “What happened?”

You hug your chest and stare down at your knees in shame. Sae-byeok of all people shouldn’t have seen you like this. Now there’s no way around this.

“Some guys from my school cornered me in the alleyway.” you reply weakly.

“Why?”

“Long story.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t pry any further. You didn’t tell her some bullshit excuse like slipping and hitting a table. You actually sounded…truthful?

Besides, she can sense you’re still in pain and talking about the reason why you’re in pain isn’t going to help you. So, she rises to sprint back to the apartment. You wonder if she’ll come back with Ji-yeong so they can get an answer out of you. Instead, she comes back with an ice pack, two pain killers pills, and a bottle of water and quietly passes it off to you.

“Thanks.” you mumble and swallow the pain killers while pressing the ice pack on your cheek, wincing. You both sit in silence like this for a minute, that’s when you start to feel your chest grow heavy. “…Is the bruise that bad?”

Your vulnerability and pleading made Sae-byeok’s heart sink. She won’t admit it—but something about how fragile you sounded reminded her of a younger Sae-byeok, back when she first came to South Korea.

“Yeah.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t approve of your attire. Only because even though it’s spring time, the night breeze is still cool enough to make someone shiver. You were currently wearing a green frilly skirt that sat above your knees paired with an oversized graphic shirt. The scrape on your knee was still dry with blood, you kept looking at it and tried pulling your skirt to cover it, it was obvious you weren’t comfortable.

“Where are you going?” Sae-byeok asks when you got back up and started walking away.

“I don’t wish to bother you so I’ll just be at the twenty four hour cafe that’s a few blocks away.”

Sae-byeok doesn’t get you. She feels like she’s about to go mad.

“Hey, what’s your deal?” Sae-byeok asks. You pause walking and spin on your heels to look at her. “Could you quit being reckless?”

You don’t understand her. Sae-byeok isn’t obligated to look after you. You actually feel quite bad for making her stay up this late.

“I’m not—I don’t think I am.” you murmur and lower the ice pack cooling your bruised cheek.

“You are.” she says bluntly. “You’ve been acting suspicious from the start, you keep running away and now all of a sudden you came with bruises and now that I’ve seen them you try to run away again?”

That’s the most you heard her speak. You don’t know if you should feel honored or embarrassed.

Sae-byeok stands up, her guards are up you just know it. Her posture straightens and her dark sharp eyes bore right into your skull like she’s trying to get into your head. Your breath hitches so you take a few steps backwards.

“I’m trying not to disturb you more than I already have these past few days. I feel like I’m breaking everything I touch so...” you trail off. Sae-byeok remains immovable.

Apart from the suspicious bruising littering your body, it hits Sae-byeok that she has nothing on you. She can’t risk living dangerously anymore now that she has Cheol under her care, but could you really threaten their way of living?

“You’re limping.”

“I should be fine these are my comfiest sneakers.” you say. “I’ll be back in an hour. I promise.”

Sae-byeok rolls her eyes. “I have to come with you now.” she says like it is the most obvious option. “Or Ji-yeong will blame me again.”

You have a feeling that she’s hard headed when it comes to decision making. So silently, you let her trail behind you as you make your ways towards the cafe in the brisk of midnight.

🏷️: @monroesturnns @knfthxv @jumpedthenfell-13 @peelover25 @karli6

[akirasarchives]

[02] | Valuable Addition.

Summary: Tension grows between you and Hyunju after the split vote to leave. However, you finally find Junhee and discover something dire.

— usual squid game stuff, bold is [day, date, time], italics is internal monologue and bold+italics is flashback

[ DAY ONE, ???, AFTERNOON ]

After the initial adrenaline wore off and the lights began to dim inside the bed hall, a devastating silence blanketed the room. Both you and Hyunju had long fallen into the silence, finding solace in each other's equal trauma. You fiddled, twisted and turned as you tried to fight the flashes of blood and body matter that printed itself into your orbs. The lifeless gazes you met as you stepped over and trampled on the bodies that were dead too early.

That could’ve been me.

However, you can’t shake the thought of player 456. He knew, he knew how the doll worked in such a short time and it was almost as if he had encountered it before. Played it before. You’re dying to ask Hyunju but a part of you is terrified to break the silence.

Suddenly, a loud whirring noise causes you to shake. You gasp, using your arms to prop you up as the lights in the room flash on. The doors had opened and the armed guards filter in.

Everyone who has previously sat on the floors scramble for safety causing the frames of the bedding to shake due to the intensity. You glance at Hyunju who grasps her mattress for support.

“Congratulations for making it through the first game. Here are the results for the first game.” The guard announces, staring straight as the screen above him begins to move. The player count falls from 456 to to 365 as he explains that 91 players had died in the first game. Your stomach drops at the figure and how that could’ve easily been you if Hyunju didn’t help you in your state of panic.

“Sir! Please don’t kill us!” An elderly woman pleads as she steps forward. What you assume is her son is attached to her arm and looks equally as horrified as the woman. She falls to her knees as she begs once more.

The sight is horrifying.

She pleads about her sons debt, explaining that she will do whatever it takes as long as they don’t hurt her son. Together, the two start pleading. Your stomach is churning at the scene as anxiety bubbles dangerously high within your body. You want to run, to hide.

“There seems to be a misunderstanding.” The guard explains but more people begin pleading, crawling and crying. They’re rubbing their hands together desperately and bowing with the deepest respect.

“We are not trying to harm you. We are presenting you with an opportunity—“

“Clause three of the consent form!”

Player 456?

“The games may be terminated upon a majority vote. Correct?” He retaliates as he walks to the centre of the room, demanding authority. The tension in the air is thick as 456 has a silence standoff with the guards leader.

You swallow nervously, cringing at the loud sound.

“That is correct.” The guard nods slightly.

“Then let’s take a vote right now.” 456 replies with the upmost confidence. You glance between the two, thankful for your higher view.

“Of course.”

The room fills with relieved sighs. Your heart hammers heavily. Surely it cannot be this easy to leave?

I still haven’t found Junhee.

“But first, let me announce the prize amount that has been accumulated.”

Gasps fill the room as the lights dim, followed by the familiar arcade sound of a winning play. A large pig, beaming with a golden ray begins to fill with stacks of money. The sight is eerily dystopian as people’s faces begin to fill with curiosity and amazement instead of dread and disgust.

“The number of players eliminated in the first game is 91. Therefore a total of 9.1 billion won has been accumulated.”

Horror spikes through your body, pricking you like pins and needles. The money presented is the worth of these individuals. Instead of cash, you see visions of the crumpled corpses lying inside the pig.

I’m getting out of here.

[DAY ONE, ???, EVENING ]

Things had gone south quickly. Once the vote to leave was announced and the guards had the players vote one by one, by number, you watched as the one person you connected with voted to stay. You felt so… betrayed? Hyunju didn’t even look at you once she voted, joining the O side without any thought towards you. You watched from the X side as the people around her didn’t even glance at her yet celebrated others joining the side as they are too absorbed by their transphobic ideologies. A part of you wanted to scream as you watched the O side increase by one. How can she join the O side especially when the purple haired lunatic was screaming and running around proudly?

On the plus side, you found Junhee. She was player 222 and had a look of absolute distraught that you had never seen before. Despite the turbulent emotions of fear, anger and distress, you greeted your friend with a relieved smile and tight hug.

“I’ve been looking for you!” You both whispered, holding back your laughs as you took in each other's faces. You both share a defeated look, though the light in your eyes had brightened since finding Junhee alive.

Now, you followed Junhee to her bed. She was situated on the other side of the room which explained why you had struggle locating the small woman in the spacious cell.

You think back to earlier, how it felt Hyunju turned her back on you. Despite finding your friend, you felt you lost another.

“You chose to stay?” You ask Hyunju with slouched shoulders. The woman, who had previously started walking back to the beds, pauses. It’s almost as if she was trying to run away from the conversation as she must’ve realised you would be pissed at her actions.

‘We were talking about getting out of here less than two hours ago!’ The thought rattles in your head.

A frown presents itself on your face. It feels like the only thing you’ve done since you’ve been here is frown or become overrun by existential fear. Slowly, she turns on her heel.

Her pupils shake as her face contorts through her emotions. A pang of empathy hits your heart at the sight of her glossy eyes.

“I need the money, [y/n].” Her voice is shaky and despite the usual compassion you would feel, her words just irritate you. You both watched people die. You comforted her because she couldn’t save someone. You rubbed the bloody fucking sand off of both of your shoes.

You can’t help but scoff, “Hyunju. People died. That money is only there because people fucking died.”

“You don’t understand.” Hyunju replies. Her voice is still ever so soft and it only serves to annoy you more. How can she be so calm?

“I don’t? You want to keep playing — more people are probably going to die! Then what? You might get to live?” You can’t help it as you begin to raise your tone at her. Hyunju furrows her brows as her patience wears thin.

“I need this money to live. To be me.” She places a hand on her chest sincerely, but her tone is sharp, “To be beautiful.”

A palpable silence bestows you both. Like earlier, a silent standoff begins. You can’t find the words as your mind is reeling.

‘Why do I care so much about this random person?’

Hyunju turns on her heel once more, walking back to her bed. You step forward, speaking loud enough for her to hear.

“You’re beautiful already, unnie.”

A hand is placed on your shoulder. You jump, following the arm to the perpetrators face.

“You scared me.” You whisper, glancing back at your shoes. They’re still beaten, bloodied and still have sand stuck in the crevasses. The sight puts you off the food in your dish despite how your stomach tells out in hunger.

Junhee examines your face, “The person… 120. Are you okay?” She asks. Of course she witnessed your fight with Hyunju as she had been by your side, nervously pulling at your sleeve to get you to walk away. Junhee had never seen you in such a state and to be frank, it scared her quite a bit. She watched the clip of you on the screen too, how afraid and little you looked. It was nothing close to your usual self.

You sigh, “Yeah. I guess.” Pushing yourself from the bed frame, you glance around. Due to everyone circulating in groups it was now easier to spot individual people. It wasn’t hard to find Hyunju sitting by the elderly woman and her son who had previously begged for their lives.

Junhee opens her mouth to speak but you reply swiftly, “We should be in 456’s team.”

She blinks, “Huh?”

“He’s been here before. He won. We should be close to him. We could have a better chance of winning if we don’t get a majority vote out.” You point over at the distraught man. His friend, player 390 seems to be comforting him as he wallows in pity.

“Have this too.” Again, you jump. This time Junhee does too. An extra egg is placed onto her dish by the elderly woman from earlier.

How is she this fast?

She leans in, glancing at you and Junhee. She seems almost nervous or hesitant to speak, causing you to raise a brow.

“You should eat it for your baby, eggs are good for pregnant women.”

Baby!? Junhee is actually pregnant? Also how does this woman know??

“Junhee… You’re actually pregnant?” You ask in a low whisper. Junhee looks like a deer in headlights. Not only had this woman just known about her pregnancy, now you do. After all, she told you she thinks she might be pregnant.

Her pale lips quiver. She’s at a loss for words, staring at you with soulless eyes. You want to cry for her, seeing her in such a state. The usual bubbly girl who helps you make coffees is reduced to a mute state.

The elderly lady tries to crack a smile “I’ve helped more than a dozen women in my neighbourhood deliver their babies. I can tell just by looking at your body shape and the way you walk.”

It’s your turn to blink.

Am I really that stupid that I didn’t notice? Or is she some kind of walking ultrasound machine?

Junhee glances at her food dish. A part of you want to reach out and hold her, tell her she’ll be fine. But it’s not right.

“It looks like your due date is getting close. If you compress your belly to hide it, it’ll be dangerous for both you and your baby.” The elderly woman expresses sincerely. It’s the same pleading face she used when begging the guards to spare her life. Junhee’s situation is dire.

“That’s why you were in pain earlier!”

… She was?

Junhee shakes her head, “It’s not what you think.”

The lady sighs once more. Junhee sounds so dejected and you’re sure she’s thought about this a lot in the past few hours. Would it be safe for her to reveal her pregnancy?

Within seconds the lady is quickly rushed away by her son, pulling her before she can fully say what she wanted to Junhee.

“Junhee… You didn’t tell me?” You ask, looking at hee slumped posture. She stares at the egg placed over her partially eaten rice, toying with it with her spoon.

“I… I didn’t know how. It’s so complicated.” She replies, glancing at you through her bangs. You sigh, placing your food tin in front of you. The elderly woman’s words ring through your mind.

Her belly… She must be in so much pain.

You motion towards her stomach, “How long have you been compressing your belly?” The thought sickens you. How far along had Junhee been when she told you if she has to press it down? Was she testing the waters to your reaction?

“A while…” She whispers as she gathers a bit of rice on her spoon. Slowly, she brings the spoon to her mouth. Your eyes sting with the threat of tears as she shows her vulnerability to you.

You scoot forward, swinging your legs over the bed so you’re sat comfortably beside her. She doesn’t bother to move her head as you place your arm around her. Almost instinctively she leans towards your touch.

You rub her shoulder comfortingly in an attempt to soothe her.

“I’ll take care of you.”

masterlist

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Two of a Kind 8

Masterlist

NO TAGS. Don’t ask.

Warnings: non-consent sex and rape; manipulation; criminal behaviour; cumplay/creampie, talk of contraception; written for smut, just being honest. Not all elements will be tagged/warned.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. It features dark!Ransom Drysdale and dark!Modern Charles Blackwood. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Synopsis: Ransom and Charles are partner’s in crime but they’re looking for some pleasure after years of business.

Note: :)

Thanks to everyone for reading and thanks in advance for all your feedback. :)

I really hope you enjoy. 💋

<3 As usual, I’d appreciate if you let me know what you think with a like or reblog or reply or an ask! Love ya.

Ransom paces. He’s agitated. Charles always has to be the big man. Always has to be in control. That’s not how this works. This is a partnership. They are equal, in all their gains. It’s why they’re so efficient. 

So how come he’s out in the cold and Charlie Boy is cuddled up nice and close with the kitty. He bets he’s in there getting a double dip. Fucking unbelievable. 

Ransom snarls and flops onto the couch. His satin boxers tickle his tip and he hardens. He hasn’t fully calmed down. Every time he thinks about how she squeezed him, he tingles and twitches. Fuck, that was good. Who would’ve thought?  

He sighs and stands up. He charges down the hall to Charles’ room then stops. He strides back to the front room and retraces his steps a second time. He snarls and cracks his neck. They had a fucking deal. They share. So why is he in there hogging her all to himself? 

He closes his eyes and pictures her shivering in the tub. The tears streaked down her cheeks and the glistening, sticky aftermath of fucking all over her skin. The way he covered her has him fully hard. Fuck it, he’s not waiting until morning. 

He turns the handle and swings the door inward. The room is dark. He can smell the chamomile. Charles’ snores rumble in the dark. He always sounded like a pig in heat when he slept. Ransom slows as his eyes adjust to the dim. 

He sees her squirm. She’s under Charles’ arm. He thinks she’s awake, he swears he can feel her eyes on him. He nears quietly, placing each foot carefully, and bends over the side of the bed. He measures’ his accomplices snores. 

He runs his fingertips down her arm and wraps his fingers around her wrist. He’s lucked out and he’s not gonna pass up the prime opportunity. He tugs her and she whimpers. He hisses out a hush. She gulps and slides out from beneath the blankets and Charles’ arm. 

Ransom stops and pulls her to him as the other man grumbles and shifts onto his stomach. He puts his hand over her mouth to quiet her gasp and she presses flush to him. She’s still naked. 

He turns her and walks her toward the door. He ushers her into the hall as she awkwardly mimics his steps. He reaches back to close the door and she whines. 

“Please, I’m tired--” 

“Shut up,” he snarls. “You can sleep, I’ll still fuck you.” 

“But... Ransom... I... I thought you liked me--” 

He chuckles, sure to keep it low. He nudges her down the hall. He points over her shoulder. 

“I like what you can give me. Well, more what you have. By nature, really. Nothing special but those holes do the job,” he smacks her ass and reaches past her to open his bedroom door. “So why don’t you show them off for me, baby.” 

She curls her shoulders, looking even smaller, and his balls throb. He feels full even though he was aching moments ago. Been a while since he felt so... ready. Usually, he just rolls over and prays he wakes up to an empty bed. 

She hesitates and looks around. He huffs. She’s a bit stupid. Her fear gets him going but it’s also fucking annoying.  

He marches up and grabs the back of her neck. He urges her to the end of the bed and guides her to kneel on the cushioned bench, like a fucking dog. Mm, he likes that. She’s his. His obedient little pet. 

Her back racks visibly as she quivers. He gets behind her and pushes down his boxers, the fabric catching on his swollen tip. He growls and stretches the elastic past his length. He lets the satin fall to his feet and grabs her hip. 

He steps closer and presses his tip along your ass. He smears around the precum already trickling out and shudders. His entire body pulses at the sensation.  

The surge drives him. He bends his knees and leans over her. She whines as he traces down past her ring, a moment of intrigue before he finds her cunt. Charles wouldn’t forgive him if he took her ass without him. 

He glides between her swollen folds and feels her flinches. He groans and rubs against her cunt. He pushes against her opening and she drones as she tenses. Her body resists his intrusion but it only goads him on. 

He snaps his hips and breaks through. She cries out and he once more brings his hand to her mouth. He puts his other on the bench as he bends over her and thrusts again. It takes several tilts for him to bottom out as she sobs into his palm. 

Her agony fills him with smoky delight. Fuck. Her walls throb, milking him as he tries to fight the pressure. He can’t blow already. 

He rolls his hips slowly, enjoying the feeling of her around him, so tight and slick, then the tingle of the naked air around him as he pulls out. In, out. He stands up, bringing her with him, and watches himself pump into her. Shit. Don’t, don’t, don’t. 

He exhales away the swell and carries on. He covers half her face with his hand and ruts harder and harder, pausing after each rippling slap of skin. He leans his head back as his eyes roll into his skull. Her fractured voice is smothered by his palm and she quakes uncontrollably at his mercy. 

He spasms as he erupts, unable to hold it in any longer. He fills her up as he fucks his cum into her until it squelches and leaks out. Even then, he doesn’t stop. He could keep her on him forever. 

👄

You stare at Ransom’s back. Your insides crawl and threaten to spill over. You stare at his muscles, the power woven through them, and you feel the weakness in you. 

His breath rises and falls as you lay in the soft hue cast through the window. You suppress a groan as you turn onto your back. It takes all you have to sit up. You hunch over and touch your pelvis as it scalds.  

You nearly stumble out of the bed. You limp to the door and glance back at his sleeping figure, focusing on him to make sure he isn’t awake. You slip through the door, leaving it slightly open, and creep down the hall. 

Your clothes are still on the floor. You dress in the grim night shade. The friction of fabric on your skin makes you wretch. You can’t stand even that. You never want to be touched again. 

You find your shoes and bag by the door. You stop to listen to the house as you put your coat on. You take out your phone before you flip back the lock. You sneak out into the whipping gales and steel yourself for the walk home. At least, you hope you find your way back. 

You open your maps app and follow the small blue arrow through the desolate night time. Each step is torture. When you trip off a curb, you feel it inside. 

You cry again, here and there, replaying the night in your head. Reliving your own mistakes. How could you ever believe Ransom? You really thought he was into you... 

Your mom can’t know. She’d be horrified. Or... what if she doesn’t believe you? 

That hurts more than anything they did to you. No one would believe you. If they did, they’d say it was your fault. You went to his house, you stayed there with both of them, you didn’t fight hard enough. No, you let them use you. 

You stop and sit on a bench. You know this part of town. You’re just too tired to keep going. You just need a minute. Or two. Or three. 

It takes you a while to get up again. Shivering, you watch the battery on your phone drain. You put it away as you recognise the street signs. It’s like a maze as you struggle to push through the pain and the blistering wind. 

You just want to go home and forget tonight. Forget it like it never happened. 

As you reach your front door, you fumble for the keys. You ease inside, keeping your steps soft and sitting to take off your boots. You hug your bag, huddling over it, and shuffle down the hall. The light flicks on above you. 

You blanch as your mother’s voice calls after you. You inhale and face her, hoping she can’t see your sadness. You force a smile. 

“Mom...” 

“There you are,” she says. “I’ve been waiting all night. I thought you’d be home before me.” 

“I’m sorry, mom, I... I lost track of time--” 

“You couldn’t call, or message?” 

“I know, mom. I—I—” You stutter. “I’m an adult.” 

She scoffs, “I know that but I worry.” 

“It’s okay--” 

“Okay? Out all night with a boy. You never know what could happen.” 

You sniffle, “mom.” 

“I’m just trying to look out for you, honey.” She girds and lets out a sigh. “I’m sorry, but... I’m just glad you’re safe.” 

She comes forward and you tremble. You want so desperately to hug her and cry against her. No, like you said, you’re an adult, you made this decision. 

“Well, did you have fun?” She asks. 

The question nearly bowls you over. You stare at her dumbly and shrug. She smiles and snickers, “oh, you don’t have to tell me everything.” 

Good, because you’re not telling her anything. 

[lillaydee]

Head Over Heels Part 4

Jackson!Joel / Reader

Special Guest Appearance by a Certain FBI Agent who may or may not look a lot like Joel.

You left the loneliness of your home and headed to Jackson with Joel and the teenage girl he was with, hoping your new life would be less lonely. You should've stayed alone.

WARNING:

Non-canon Compliant, Pining, Fluff and Angst, Hurt Joel (The Last of Us), Joel is Bad at Feelings (The Last of Us), Joel Needs a Hug (The Last of Us), Joel Lives (The Last of Us), Protective Joel (The Last of Us), Soft Joel (The Last of Us), Jealousy, Loneliness, Trauma.

MEGA WARNING: Descriptions of Attempted Sexual Assault.

@copperhalfcent @joelalorian @vickie5446 @peelieblue @nandan11

SERIES MASTER LIST

Part 3

---

One month. You decided that you would stay for a month to see if you would stay for good. And now that month was up. Time to make a decision.

That first week after the settling down period was interesting. During the settling down week, the three of you basically went everywhere together. Had your meals together. No talking, but the familiarity of being together helped you. Helped all three of you, even, you dared thought. Joel would go out first, and you would wait for Ellie. But every time you came out of the door, he would be there and walked with both of you over to the hall. After dinner, he would walk the two of you home and then leave again to go to the Bison for a drink with Tommy.

When that week was over, you woke up early to make sure everyone had a good start to your new lives in Jackson. You made breakfast. Nothing fancy, just some eggs and toast, which Ellie devoured even if she wasn’t speaking to you. When Joel came down, he stopped at the bottom of the stairs for a good minute, taking in the food on the table, and the coffee you made for him. He came over and told Ellie to have a great day at school, sort of looked your way, nodded and told you to have a great day at the greenhouse and left, his breakfast and coffee untouched.

For a second, you could’ve sworn you saw Ellie looked at him a certain way, shaking her head and chancing a glance at your hurt expression that he didn’t touch the food you made for him. She didn’t say anything to you, though. She took half of the eggs you had scrambled for Joel and gave you the rest, devouring her breakfast in silence as you poured the coffee meant for him in a to go cup for you to take to work before making some sandwiches for Ellie’s lunch.

When you walked Ellie to school, you ran into him, walking out of the dining hall, getting ready to go on his first patrol, a cup of coffee in his hands. He watched you drop Ellie off, and then turned around and left for the stables with Tommy.

That breakfast with Ellie was the last one you would have with her over the coming month. She made friends at school that day and left early to have breakfast with them at the hall every single day since then, even on weekends. She left the lunch you made for her untouched, leaving it on the table when she got back from school that first day before leaving again to see her new friends.

You ate those sandwiches for dinner, alone. Joel didn’t come home until well past ten, when you and Ellie were already in bed.

The same happened every day for the whole week. When the next Monday came, you stopped bothering.

You swallowed your pride and went on with your new life, focusing instead on those who did enjoy your company. Your new colleague at the greenhouse, Liv, was nice. She and her sister Diana came to Jackson a few years back. Diana worked in the kitchen, and the two of them, along with Maria had taken you in, and soon, you felt as if you had been friends with them forever. Since Joel and Ellie had both decided your presence was no longer necessary at their mealtimes, you dined with the sisters and Maria instead.

You spent your first two weekends after settling down cleaning the house and doing the laundry, before Joel told you to stop, taking his clothes off your hands, rather roughly, you might add, telling you he and Ellie could do their own laundry, and clean their own areas too. So don’t bother, he said, and don't go around rummaging through my stuff.  

You were stunned. Ellie just watched as he did this, adding that her stuff was off-limits too.

The truth was you were gagging for something to do. You were often alone at the house on the weekends, Ellie off somewhere with her new friends and Joel on patrol or off fixing something somewhere in the small town. By that third weekend, you were going out of your mind. So you looked for things to do, helping out at the bakery, the kitchen, heck, you even went for an extra shift or two, completely without pay at the greenhouse just because.

It was when you decided to go to the library that you found what you needed. They didn't have the Chronicles of Narnia, but they did have a copy of the Two Towers and the Hobbit. You almost shouted in excitement. You scoured the place for Return of the King, but even Ike, the kind, older man who took care of the library told you he hadn’t had the pleasure of finding one yet, but he would let you know as soon as one was found.

You took those books everywhere, reading them at every opportunity, straight up running into Joel as you left the house one morning with your nose literally in the book. You fell on your back, and Joel dropped his pack to help you up.

“Oh, dear, are you okay, Joel?”

A sweet, simpering voice came calling, followed by a blurred figure rushing past you, knocking you back onto your ass on your own door step, trying to make sure Joel was okay, even though he didn’t even budge from the impact.

Joel went around her to help you up, offering his hand to you, but somehow, the presence of that woman made you want to get out of there as fast as you could. You ignored his hand and left, muttering an apology to him while practically jogging away from the house you shared with him.

It was her, Vanessa. She was in his patrol team. She was married, according to Liv, to Pete, the town playboy. They were very young when the outbreak happened, and met at the QZ their parents took them to. They escaped when there was a coop there, and travelled together for years, and then married when they settled in Jackson. But Pete, a good looking, strong, strapping man in his thirties, when suddenly presented with a gaggle of young ladies in Jackson, decided that Vanessa alone wasn’t enough for him anymore. They had only known each other, and Pete was unashamedly sowing his wild oats, and Vanessa was forced to watch helplessly as her husband went around with every single and available, and in some cases, taken and married lady in town.

She had attempted to do exactly what he did just to spite him, but apparently, men were less enticed by the town playboy’s wife than she thought they would be. It didn’t help that Pete was a somewhat scary man, the years of travelling having to protect a woman alone had made him ruthless, and no men wanted the hassle of facing an angry Pete.

Rumour had it that Vanessa had had enough of this humiliation her husband had put her through. All this while, no man had dared take her up on her offer – they were all to afraid of Pete. But now, it seemed, a new man had arrived in town. One who had a reputation as a killer, a ruthless, savage killer. One who was well-connected in Jackson, the brother-in-law to the mayor of Jackson.  

A man Pete wouldn’t dare touch.

Joel Miller.

And she wanted him and made absolutely no effort to hide it.

Liv and Diana told you the popularity Joel Miller had in this small town. The young ladies, most of whom were younger than his daughter Sarah would’ve been if she hadn’t passed, positively swooned over him. They all stared and giggled at him every time he was around. You had to sit through an entire lunch where the girls at the next table were wondering out loud what kind of a savage he would be in bed.

You should make your move, Elena, or he would be swiped out right from under you, Liv and Diana told you, giggling good-naturedly.

You kept telling yourself you didn’t care. Your crush on him was on the sidelines for now, ready to be shoved into some back closet you had yet to find in your mind, now that you knew for sure what he thought of you. But your heart ached every time you hear these much younger, much prettier women coo over him, the man you had been crushing hard on these past 15 years. Maybe he was a hard ass who didn’t want to risk opening his heart to anyone, but he was just a red blooded man. A handsome, rugged, red blooded man. Who’s to say he wasn’t fucking them already?

You had to physically shake your head to get the images of him fucking one of these ladies in the room across the corridor from you out of your head. You didn’t know if your heart could ever take it if that were to happen. But somehow, you managed to put those thoughts away by losing yourself in the new books you had borrowed. Middle Earth was much safer than Jackson, you felt. At least Middle Earth wouldn’t break your heart.

You were telling Liv and Maria your frustrations about not having the final book in the trilogy that evening when Vanessa came gliding in, arms wrapped around Joel’s who looked like he would rather be anywhere but there, all ready for her evening shift at the greenhouse. He stepped away from her, taking his arm away from her grasp, gruffly asking you if you were ready to leave, puzzling you. Joel Miller offering to walk you home from work? Something was not right. It wasn’t until Vanessa reminded him to eat the dinner she made for him while it was hot that you realized what was happening. Ah… he was walking her to work and had to come up with a quick strategy to not make it obvious to you by asking you if you were ready to leave. Liv and Maria watched in uneasy silence as Vanessa crooned on and on about what a gentleman Joel was to walk her all the way to the greenhouse.

“I’m okay to walk by myself, Joel. Thank you.”

He stood there for a while, looking as if he wanted to say something to you, but ultimately decided against it and left, Vanessa sweetly saying goodbye to him. She turned to you after he closed the door behind him, sighing, telling you she didn’t understand how you could live with someone like him and not jump his bones already. You stood up and took a basket with you, going to the row of peppers, picking some to dry on the rack. She followed you, asking you incessant questions about his likes, his dislikes, his background, refusing to shut up, annoying the living shit out of you. You’d finally had enough and turned to her with a snap, telling her that you were not his mother, nor the keeper of all that was Joel Miller, so could she please leave you alone?

Vanessa looked at you as if you had slapped her, muttering an apology before finally walking away from you. You made your way back to the big table, Maria and Liv looking at you with a look that you could only decode as pity. You gathered the veggies you were going to send to the kitchen for dinner and placed them in the trolley, telling them you were clocking out for the day, placing the Two Towers on top of everything and wheeled the trolley out of there.

You turned the corner out of the greenhouse to Joel standing with his back to the wall, his hands in his pockets. He stood up straight when he saw you, rushing over to get the cart from you. You quickly moved it past him, telling him you had it. Go home Joel. What would the townspeople think if they saw the two of you together? Bad enough you lived together, you refused to get in the way of him having a life there.

“Look, I didn’t walk her here, Vanessa showed up with dinner, and I was just…”

“Well, go home and have it. You heard what she said, have it while it’s hot!”

And with that, you pushed the cart away, leaving him standing there, gripping the handle tight and hoped he didn’t see your shaking hands. Maria came running after you, hands on her pregnant belly, Liv following close behind.

“You okay?” Maria asked you.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t I be?”

“Elena, it’s me. You can be honest with me.”

“I’m fine, Maria. I need to get these to the kitchen.”

**********

You had to admit, you liked it here in Jackson, despite the loneliness you felt whenever you were home. You liked that you had things to do. That you had a purpose, that you were contributing. You had duties you had to do. People you could help. You felt useful. Everywhere in this town you felt useful, welcomed, liked.

Everywhere in Jackson, except your own home.

Ellie still wouldn’t talk to you or Joel, stomping around in and out the house, only speaking when asking you where the detergent was, or how to work the washing machine, or to tell you she was going to hang out with her friends. She had only begun doing that because you had gone around town one night looking for her when you opened the door to her room to check on her before bedtime, only to realize she wasn’t there.

That was one of the rare instances you and Joel communicated in peace and went your separate ways looking for her.

When you found her and dragged her home, she screamed at you for invading her privacy. For putting your nose in her business. She only got quiet when you arrived home to Joel seething on the porch, giving her an earful about how she was your responsibility, his responsibility, and how you couldn’t keep her safe if she didn’t let you know where she was going. She was about to say something else when he told her to really, really think if she wanted to say what she was about to say. She looked at you and Joel with such hatred in her eyes before slamming the door shut behind her as she went inside.

You and Joel stood around on the porch composing yourselves in silence before going inside and retiring to your rooms for the night.

And as for you and Joel. Well…

You saw him return an empty container to Vanessa a couple of times, previously filled with a homemade dinner or breakfast made by her truly. You couldn’t help but feel stung that he would eat her offerings when he ignored that one breakfast you made for him. You, the woman who lived with him, the one who travelled with him for months, the one who nursed him back to health when he needed it. The one he had known for 15 years. This man, who had no problem eating the meals you cooked with Bill way back when, who ate the stuff you cooked or reheated on the road for him and Ellie, had resolutely refused to eat something you cooked now that you were living under the same roof.

Ever since that day he got caught walking Vanessa to the greenhouse, he hadn’t openly tried to do so again, although you did see him in the vicinity of the greenhouse every time you left your shift, standing somewhere near, making himself busy looking at some trees and walls with interest. Conveniently, those were also the days Vanessa had come in to take over your shift.

Hmph, hide it better, Joel. Not like you were going to stop him.

Sleeping at night had gotten easier and easier, the room now felt like a sanctuary for you. It was the place you could be alone. You used to toss and turn at night before falling asleep, but these days, all you had to do was lie down, and you would drift off. Maybe it was the safety of the walls, maybe it was familiarity, but most probably you were just tired from your busy day. Sometimes, that dream you used to have, one where Joel would caress your face or smooth your hair, or tuck your blanket around you would come, but you had gotten so used to those dreams you ignored them.

You did wake up after one such dream one day to your bedroom door ajar. You got up to close it, cursing that the old door was starting to cause problems before going to use the bathroom. You came back out and got in bed, hearing a door click shut somewhere in the house.

Shit was that someone in the house? Did Joel just get back? At this hour? Not that you cared if he did, but if he wasn’t home before when you woke up to your door ajar, that gave you pause.

You installed a latch on the door the next day just so it wouldn’t give you any more trouble, to keep your mind at ease.

Strangely, you never had those dreams again.

You were still teetering on whether or not you wanted to stay in Jackson when one day, Ellie wasn’t home 30 minutes after she said she would be home. You went looking for her, remembering Liv’s words that evening during dinner - she saw Ellie and her friends walking towards their ‘hideout’ looking like they were up to something. So you went to the ‘hideout’, opening the door to find Ellie sitting down with her bite mark out, one of her friends tattooing something on it. They froze when they saw you.

You wanted to say something, of course you did, but you didn’t want to give her a reason to be mad at you for going off on her in front of her friends. So you left, giving her a stare that was enough, it seemed, for her to get the message. She came home 30 minutes later, her arm wrapped, meekly sitting across from you as you sat on the couch in the living room with a stern glare her way.

“What were you thinking Ellie? You didn’t think you should’ve talked to me or Joel about this? You were showing them your bitemark! What if they had told people?”

“They wouldn’t do that, okay? They’re my friends! They would never betray me like that. I just wanted to cover it up once and for all. I wanted to be able to roll up my sleeves, wear short sleeved t-shirts and not worry someone was going to see the mark.”

“Ellie, I get where you’re coming from. If you wanted to hide the mark we could’ve figured something out, but Ellie, if people find out about this, they might do things to you. Give you up to the Fireflies, kill you, even. Not everyone can be trusted with this information, Ellie!”

“God!” she screamed, standing up. “Will you stop controlling my life? You are not my mother!”

“I’m only looking out for you Ellie, I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.”

“Well, if you had let me die in Salt Lake City, you could’ve spared yourself that worry.”

“Ellie!”

“Look, Elena, I’m gonna say this one more time. You. Are. Not. My. Mother. I'm not a fucking child. Leave me the fuck alone. God! You’re so annoying! I wish you would just leave already! I should’ve kept quiet when you wanted to go back to Boston. At least I wouldn’t have to face your annoying face every day! No wonder Joel won’t talk to you. You’re like a fly nobody wants! Buzzing around, being nosey. Just get off my back already!” she snarled, before taking her jacket and leaving, slamming the door behind her.

You sat there, willing yourself not to cry.

So, that’s what she thought of you.

She’s an angry teenager, you reminded yourself. She didn’t mean it. She didn’t mean it. She didn’t mean it.

You needed a distraction.

Diana and Liv had always asked you to join them for a drink at the Bison. You never went, the crowd of drunk people made you nervous. But if there was one thing you needed today, it was a distraction. The crowd and the music and the buzz might help.

Yeah. You’ll go to the Bison.

You got up and went upstairs to get ready. Just as you were shutting your bedroom door you heard Joel and Tommy come in, their voices carrying up the stairs.

“Listen brother, you’re here now, permanently, maybe dating is not a bad idea. But not that Vanessa chick. She’s married, Joel. People are talking.”

“I don’t know what you are talking about. I’m not seeing her. I’m fine with being alone. I have Ellie to worry about.”

“Look, I’m just saying, Elena…”

“No, never suggest that again. I told you. That’s the stupidest idea I’ve ever heard. Not her. Anyone but her, you hear?”

“Okay, okay, sheesh. But, I have to tell you, brother. A lot of men in town are interested in her. They keep asking me if she's off limits – they’re scared of you, you know. But maybe, if you date someone else, they could ask her out. She’s hot, man. But they don’t dare go near her cause they think she’s with you.”

Joel didn’t answer. You couldn’t see any of them, but you could feel the tension between the brothers all the way upstairs.

“Joel, if you don’t want her, don’t stop her from having a chance at happiness, brother. She’s pretty, she's nice. If she has a shot at being happy here, having a normal life, a family, let her, brother. Although, I still think you and her…”

“Tommy!” Joel’s voice rang throughout the house, and you could just see him grit his teeth, jaws clenching at Tommy.

“Yes alright! I’ll stop! So tonight, when you come for a drink, maybe don’t bite the heads of the ladies who come trying their luck with you, huh? Go out on dates, and then maybe Elena would have a chance. But Joel, are you sure you’re not…”

“Tommy, I will never, ever, be with her like that. You hear me? Or would your hearing get better with my fist in your face?”

“Fine. Just… think about the dating thing, okay? See you in ten.”

You heard the front door close, and a huge sigh of relief from Joel.

You took a shawl from the hook behind your door and wrapped it around yourself, waiting until you heard him move away from the front door to leave. You heard the kitchen sink turn on, and snuck downstairs as quickly as you could, shutting the front door behind you quietly.

If you heard the front door open behind you as you walked away, you didn’t look back, not wanting him to see the tears free-falling down your cheeks.

**********

Your worst fear was now confirmed. They didn’t want you there with them. The two people who were the closest thing you had to family didn’t want you there.

You. Are. Not. My. Mother.

I wish you would just leave already!

You’re like a fly nobody wants!

Not her. Anyone but her.

I will never, ever, be with her like that.

Those words kept coming to you, pelting at you like bullets you couldn’t dodge, lodging themselves in your mind.

You wiped your wet face with your shawl, walking into the Bison to join Liv and Diana with a huge smile on your face as if nothing was bothering you.

You had just ordered your second drink when Joel and Tommy walked in, Joel eyeing you nervously.

No. You were not going to let him win. You were not going to give him the satisfaction of knowing he had hurt you.

You went back to your table and sat down, happily laughing as you listened to Liv tell a story about a date she had when she first got to Jackson. You saw him in the corner of your eyes, staring at you from across the room, his hands twirling his drink on the table.

And then, Vanessa walked in. She beelined towards him and Tommy, immediately sitting down next to Joel, her arm around his. She said something to him, and he said something back to her, his eyes still on you. She got up and went to the bar to get herself a drink, coming back to sit next to him, saying something to Tommy instead.

You tried your best to give Liv and Diana your full attention, not wanting to seem distracted. But you couldn’t. Try as you might, your attention was always drawn back to Joel, now happily laughing with Tommy and Vanessa, her hands all over him. He certainly didn’t make any attempts to stop her from where you were sitting.

And then, one of the young ladies you had heard talk about Joel once, Esther, if you remembered correctly, walked up to him. You saw Vanessa’s face turn. The lady said something to him, her body language flirty as she played with her hair, batting her eyelashes at him. She turned to walk away, and after a moment, Joel picked up his glass and followed her to the bar, sitting next to her, looking her in the eyes, listening to her talk and talk.

When had he ever looked at you straight in the eyes like that on a social basis? His eyes were always on your feet, his own, or the necklace or bracelet you wore, the ones Tess gave you. Never your eyes. And here he was, taking Tommy’s advice, focusing on this lady as if she was the most important person in the room.

You couldn’t take it anymore. You couldn’t be here to watch this. To watch the man you had been crushing hard on from the past 15 years treat someone else, look at someone else the way you had wished he would you for years.

You knew what you needed to do. You excused yourself, told Liv and Diana you had something important to talk to Maria about and left.

When Maria opened her front door, she was greeted by a sobbing you.

“Maria, I need your help. I can’t stay in that house with them anymore. They don’t want me there, Maria. I don’t want to leave, but please let me stay somewhere else. I need this Maria. Please.”

---

Part 5

[hypnagogicwriter]

𝙝𝙖𝙥𝙥𝙮 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙮𝙚𝙖𝙧

fandom masterlist | general navigation

synopsis: There's glitter on the floor after the party, and Y/N finds herself cleaning up year after year. Surprisingly, Gojo Satoru joined her once and didn't seem to leave.

Tags: Gojo Satoru/f!Reader, Reader is Not a Jujutsu Sorcerer, still kicks ass tho, Soft Gojo Satoru but he is struggling with emotions, Feelings?, Reader has a problematic past, We only briefly look at that, kinda Strangers to Lovers, inaccurate canon universe

Words: 1471

Kinda obvious based on this song

The sound of laughter and distant fireworks echoed through the halls of Jujutsu High as the students celebrated the arrival of a new year. The main room was a mess of discarded cups, streamers, and confetti, and Y/N stood at the center, broom in hand, surveying the aftermath.

It was tradition now—she’d clean while the others enjoyed themselves, preferring the quiet over the chaos of the party. That's where she belonged, after all.

“You know, there’s no rule that says you have to do this every year.”

The familiar voice made her sigh. She turned to see Gojo Satoru leaning against the doorframe, his blindfold perched on his head.

“Shouldn’t you be off dazzling everyone with your charm?” she asked, resuming her sweeping.

“I already dazzled them,” he said, walking into the room. “Now I’m here to dazzle you.”

She rolled her eyes. “Grab a broom if you’re going to stay.”

He smirked but complied, picking up the other broom. Together, they cleaned in silence, the remnants of the party fading away. This was not possible when Y/N took up the position as a regular teacher, the communication between the two of them was too harsh.

“You’re always cleaning up after everyone,” he said after a while, his voice quieter than usual. “Why?”

She shrugged, keeping her eyes on the floor. Someone has to do the dirty work. At home, it was always her. A bit like Cinderella, only without a prince, but with a good friend with exceptionally good contacts, who couldn't stand her family.

His gaze lingered on her, a softness she wasn’t used to seeing in him.

The first time Gojo had seen Y/N like this was a year ago, on New Year’s Day. She had been sitting in the empty common room, staring at the remnants of another celebration. He’d wandered in, looking for a late-night snack, and found her instead.

“You okay?” he’d asked, leaning against the doorway.

“Just thinking,” she’d replied, her voice echoing back from the end of the universe.

He didn’t press her that night, just sat across from her and shared the silence. It became a habit after that—running into her at odd hours, sharing unspoken moments in the aftermath of celebrations or battles.

She intrigued him, this non-sorcerer who carried herself with quiet strength. He wasn’t used to people like her.

There are 12 months between "Gojo Satoru is really getting on my nerves!" and "You're really hard in love, Y/N" (Shoko smirking diabolically).

It started with little things—passing conversations in the halls, stolen glances during meetings, and a steady rhythm that Y/N hadn’t noticed was building. Gojo had a way of inserting himself into her life, in the spaces between her routines.

One day, she was grading papers in the courtyard, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows across the stone path. She heard the distinct crunch of footsteps and sighed.

“Gojo, if you’re here to bother me—”

“Bother you?” he interrupted, dropping into the chair across from her. “I’m here to provide you with my much-needed company. You’re welcome.”

“I didn’t ask for your company,” she replied, not looking up from her work.

“Your eyes did,” he teased, leaning back and balancing his chair on two legs. “They practically screamed, ‘I wish someone would entertain me.’”

Y/N smirked despite herself. “My eyes must be malfunctioning, then.”

They fell into their familiar talking, his teasing bouncing off her sharp retorts. By the time the sun had dipped below the horizon, she realized she hadn’t marked a single paper but didn’t feel annoyed about it.

Another time, they crossed paths in the library. She was perched on a ladder, pulling down a stack of dusty books, when his voice rang out.

“Need a hand, shorty?”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Gojo.”

“Come on, let me be your knight in shining armor,” he said, winking up at her.

“Go pester someone else,” she muttered, carefully stepping down the ladder.

But when she mistook the last step, Gojo was there, catching her before she could hit the ground. She blinked up at him, her face inches from his, and for a moment, the air between them shifted and Y/N thought of kissing him.

“Careful,” he said, his voice unusually soft.

“Thanks,” she murmured, stepping out of his arms and busying herself with the books.

The moments kept piling up—him bringing her coffee during long staff meetings, her quietly leaving snacks in the training rooms he frequented. Neither addressed the subtle shift, but it was undeniable, and for everyone to see.

The breaking point came during a mission. A group of students had been sent to exorcise a minor curse but found themselves overwhelmed. Y/N and Gojo had been dispatched as backup.

While Gojo handled the curse with his usual flair, Y/N focused on helping the injured students. She knelt beside one, assessing their wounds, like Shoko had shown her and other non-sorcerers, when she heard Gojo’s voice behind her.

“Y/N, watch out!”

Before she could react, he was in front of her, his hand raised as a barrier materialized to deflect a stray attack. The curse dissolved moments later, but the weight of his protective stance lingered.

“You okay?” he asked, turning to her, his eyes scanning her for injuries.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“Of course I did,” he replied, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “Can’t have anything happening to you.”

Her heart stuttered at his words, so honest.

Later that night, as she replayed the events in her mind, she found herself questioning her growing feelings. It wasn’t just his charm or his power—it was the way he seemed to notice the parts of her that others overlooked.

And while she hated to admit it, she couldn’t ignore the truth anymore. She had fallen for Gojo Satoru, and it felt like standing at the edge of a cliff, the ground crumbling beneath her feet.

There are 12 months between “Y/N is a pain in my ass!" and "You're down bad, Gojo-san" (Ijichi grinning diabolically).

This New Year’s was quieter than the last. Most of the students had gone home, leaving the school nearly empty. Y/N found herself cleaning again, the silence soothing as she swept confetti into a pile.

“You’re predictable,” Gojo said, appearing as if from nowhere.

She didn’t look up. “And you’re annoying.”

He chuckled, grabbing a nearby chair and spinning it around to sit backward. “Why do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“Hide away. Take care of everyone else. Pretend like you don’t matter.”

Because she meant nothing. She was just a mixture of bone and flesh. Meaningless. Next to everything else. For the sake of peace, she decided not to say it out loud. You hide something like that behind walls without doors.

She stopped sweeping. “What are you talking about?”

“I’ve been watching you,” he said, his tone serious. “You give so much of yourself to everyone else, but you never let anyone in.”

Oh, how she hated the way he read her like an open book. The way he gently hit the points. The way he tore down the walls, she carefully built around her past.

Her chest tightened, and she turned away. “Why do you care?”

“Because I care about you,” he said simply, standing up. She froze, her heart pounding in her chest. “Don’t joke about that, Satoru.”

“I’m not joking,” he said, stepping closer. “I’ve been trying to ignore it, I really did. Because having this kind of feeling for people, for non-sorcerers especially, is tough. I learnt from my past that it can hurt, but I also learnt that it hurts the most not to talk about. So yeah, I do care about you so, so deeply and I would never joke when it comes to you —and my students.”

She turned to face him, searching his face for any hint of mockery, but all she found was sincerity. She was speechless.

“You drive me crazy,” she said, her voice trembling.

He smiled, but it was softer this time. “Good. Then we’re even.”

As the first light of dawn broke over the horizon, Y/N and Gojo sat side by side in the common room, the mess forgotten.

“Do you think this is a mistake?” she asked quietly, her head resting on his shoulder.

“Probably,” he replied, lacing his fingers with hers. “But I don’t care.”

She laughed softly, and he turned to look at her, his eyes bright in the dim light.

“Stay,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

And she did, in fact, stayed in this love, even longer than him.

[paxaz535]

Brothers Best Friend

♡pairing ♡

paige x black!oc

chapter v

series here

——————

When Makayla, Emma, Daveli, David and Paige all arrived to the very nice hotel, it was already four. They really didn’t expect anyone to be there because, let’s be honest, who’s really on time for real? if anything, Eli was quite relieved, she wanted to get herself situated before she had to greet anyone anyways.

“Who all did you really invite, David?” Paige asked her best friend as they all stood on the elevator. David chuckled nervously as everyone looked at him. “Oh you know.. just Derek, Lonzo, jayden and his homies.” Eli squinted her eyes. “That’s it?” She questioned. She had a feeling he had more people sliding. David waved her off, “Don’t worry about all that.. just know we gon be lit.” Emma, Makayla and Eli shared a look, they had a feeling something was gonna go down.

As the group of 5 made it to the 4th floor, they all stepped out the elevator. Eli looked down the hall to see pink decorations around her door. She squealed, already getting excited. Makayla and Emma giggled while David and Paige just grinned. “Guys..”

When they made it to the door, Makayla handed her the key card. Eli was cheesing, happily taking the card and unlocking the door. When she walked in, she let out a big gasp. It was pink and black balloons all around the living area, she picked one up and walked further in. She looked towards the kitchen to see a huge ass cake sitting on the counter with her picture on it. It was chips, candy and just a whole bunch of goodies sitting around. Eli couldn’t help but cover her mouth, she was getting emotional.

“Yall didn’t..” She spoke out of shock. Emma stood by the bed room door. “In here is all the good stuff.” She spoke as she opened it. Eli turned around and before she could even step inside, she saw a mini pile of presents. She quickly walked in to see a big pink sign in balloons on the window that said ‘Happy Birthday Daveli’ and more balloons on the ceiling. it was a number 18 right next to the bed with pink pebbles on the bed.

She saw a led light ball in a corner meaning when it got darker, they’d display it and make the room look pretty. It was heart balloons by the bathroom, she noticed mini portraits of her around the room, some with David, some with Paige and some with Makayla in it. It was one with her and Emma on the tv stand and she noticed every one of them.

She was crying by now, they put so much thought into the room and she couldn’t have ask for better friends. She quickly turned towards them and hugged everyone one by one. “Thank you, thank you. this is too cute. I love yall so much.” She spoke, tears still coming down. They all chuckled, seeing the girls reaction.

Paige then remembered, “I have one more thing for you.” She spoke and ran out the room. Daveli was confused and looked at David. He shrugged, “Imma go get myself situated in my room. my peoples should be here soon.” The girls just nodded, eli going back to gawking at the room.

She quickly took a picture and automatically posted it on her story.

daveli.lili added to their story !

(pretend it’s still light out)

When Paige came back with the flowers, she stayed outside the door, texting Eli to come out. When Daveli got the message, she was even more confused. “Paige just texted me to come out.” She told the two girls in the room. Makayla and Emma looked at each other, then back at the 18 year old.

“Then go!” Eli widened her eyes and nodded, quickly leaving the bedroom. When she opened the door, she saw Paige with a huge bouquet of flowers. They were pink, just like her favorite color. Her eyes went wide again and a gasp left her. “Happy Birthday, Eli.” The blonde spoke softly as she gave the flowers to the girl.

“Paige..” Eli looked at them and back at the blonde. She quickly gave her a hug, squeezing the girl tightly. When Paige gave her a squeeze back, Eli smiled big. Hugging Paige has always been the best feeling Eli could endure, paige was always warm and smelled so good. “Thank you, p. I love you.” She spoke softly and leaned into her until she couldn’t.

“I love you too, D.” But not in the way she wanted her to. Hearing Paige say that was music to her ears, but she knew p didn’t mean it in the way she longed for. The girls were so busy wrapped around each other, they didn’t see Azzi, Carol and Jaida walk up. Jaida was the one to disturb the moment, clearing her throat.

The two separated, not knowing the three was standing there. “Hi there.” Azzi spoke in a teasing tone, making Paige blush out of embarrassment and Daveli look away, trying to hide her smile. “Wassup, yall.” Paige spoke as she gave Carol and Azzi a hug. She dapped up Jaida and smacked her back.

Azzi and Carol approached Eli, teasing smiles on their faces. “Hi, birthday girl.” Azzi spoke and gave her a hug. “Hey, Azzi.” She cheesed and turned towards Caroline. “You’re carol, right?” The brunette nodded, a shy smile on her face. “It’s nice to meet you, happy birthday!” The two went in for a hug, making Eli smile wider. She loves hugs, if you couldn’t tell.

“Thank you!” Paige and Jaida then walked up, looking at the 18 year old. “Eli, this is Jaida. I told you about her.” Eli nodded, giving the brownskin girl a quick look up and down. She had on baggie jeans with a pink hoodie. Her hair was in a slick back ponytail with a puff in the back. She had a grey and pink beanie on, the girl was screaming gay. She was a stud, Eli’s type.

“Nice to meet you, jaida.” She spoke as they hugged, “You too, eli. Happy birthday, pretty.” Daveli smiled, leading them towards the room. Paige gave Jaida a discreet look before turning towards Eli. “Oh, they showed out. It’s nice in here.” Azzi spoke as they all walked in the hotel room.

“Keep that door open!” Jaida turned around to see a light skin girl, she had stitch braids with a pink juicy couture outfit and a black travel bag. “Who’s that?” Paige whispered. Jaida shrugged, she was intrigued on who this girl was… until a man came jogging after her. Paige stilled a laugh, seeing Jaida’s face drop. The brown skin turned towards the blonde and flicked her forehead, Paige rubbed it and walked into the room fully.

“Thank you. Derek, hurry up.” She called as Derek was still two doors away from them. Derek just smacked his lips, speed walking towards his girlfriend. She let out a big sigh, keeping the door open for him, Jaida was already inside, going towards everyone else.

The couple walked in, taking in the environment. “You seem excited as fuck to be at your opp’s party.” Derek spoke as he and Nai sat on the couch. She turned towards him, “I only came here because of you, don’t piss me off.” She spoke as she smacked on her gum, leaning back and getting on her phone.

Inside the room everyone was chilling, Emma and Makayla already changed into their swim suits. “Yo.. it’s some light skin girl and her nigga out there.” Jaida spoke as she sat next to Azzi. Daveli froze, slowly turning towards Makayla. Makayla had the same look on her face, then they both looked at the rest of the girls.

“Woah.. what happened?” Carol asked as she noticed their whole demeanor’s changed. “That’s Nai.” Emma spoke. Daveli gagged just hearing her name, making Paige eyes go wide. “That was Nai?” She asked, she never really paid attention to the girl before but now putting a name on her face made her realize. Emma went on to explain what happened so the girls could be caught up.

Daveli just sighed, looking at Makayla. “Whatever, it’s my day. No bad energy.” Makayla nodded, a smile on her face. Daveli then went to the bathroom to change into her two piece, taking paige’s flowers with her. She took a picture before she changed and posted it.

Daveli added to their story !

She then changed into her pink two piece and put a black cover up on. She came out and everyone was either getting their stuff out of their bags or just lounging around. “Yo!” David voice rung out. “What’s up, David?” Derek spoke, dabbing him up. “Hi, david.” Nai’s voice could be heard, making Eli make a mug look on her face. Emma and Azzi laughed and David heard, busting inside the room.

“Ayeeee, What’s up yall!?” Everyone spoke back, Jaida getting up to dap the curly head up. “This might not be my actual room but that still doesn’t give you a reason to bust in, David.” Eli spoke as she put her clothes away. David looked at her, a bored look on his face. Eli shot her eyes out at him, popping her neck.

There was a knock at the front. “I got it!” Derek spoke. When he opened the door, he saw Lonzo, Jayden, Mj, and 3 more girls. “Wassup?” He greeted and let them in. “Hey, Nai!!” A girl yelled as she ran towards her. She had strawberry blonde hair and hazel eyes. Nai shot up, seeing her friend. “Hey, Mia!!” They hugged and began talking. The other two girls were looking for Daveli, actually wanting to speak to her.

Derek lead them to the room to see everyone laughing at something Eli was talking about. “Is that Daveli Corjay Robertson?” Daveli eyes widen, looking at her two friends. “Yall are feds!” She smiled and walked towards them, hugging them tightly.

When they pulled away, Eli faced everyone. “This is Connie and Caniya. Yes, they are twins.” She spoke, the two sisters already had their swimsuits on so they just sat their bags down and waved at everyone.

“Yall are pretty as hell.” Carol complimented. The twins smiled, thanking the brunette and giving her a compliment as well. “Alright, I think everyone’s here, yea?” David spoke as he stood up. Eli looked around, nodding her head. As much as she disliked Nai, she didn’t want the girl to be clueless on what’s going on. She noticed the gift corner got bigger, making her internally smile.

“Yo, can you tell them to come by the door so I don’t have to repeat myself?” She asked as she wiped off her make up from earlier. Derek nodded and poked his head out. “Yall, come here.” Nai and Mia stopped mid conversation and stood up, standing by the door.

“Okay! First of all, I wanna say thank you for coming to this, i was lowkey stressing but we here.” Everyone cheered, the girl hearing happy birthday’s. She just smiled and continued. “Secondly, I just wanna let everyone know the plans, alright? I rented out the pool from 6 to 10 but you’re free to leave and come up to get comfortable whenever. I’mma probably leave early because dinner won’t be here till like 9. David has his own room so his peoples can stay with him.” Everyone nodded, understanding what was going on.

Eli looked at her phone. “Well, it’s almost 6 so whoever needs to get changed, go ahead. Where’s the speaker?” She asked as she slid on her slides. “I got it.” Jaida spoke as she picked it up. Eli smiled, winking at the girl. Daveli started to get everything she needed and she started making her way downstairs. Makayla, Emma, Paige, Azzi, Carol and Jaida was behind her, them already being ready.

When the girls were on the elevator, the blonde decided to talk. “Yo, who was that girl with Nai?” Paige asked. Eli side eyed her secretly, why is she worried about it? Emma, being the bright one she is, answered happily. “Oh, that’s Mia. They be attached to the hip.” Paige nodded her head, looking over at Jaida.

Jaida shook her head, smirking in the process. Daveli peeped the whole thing, looking over at Makayla to see her face. Makayla lips went into a straight line, knowing exactly what her best friend was thinking. Azzi and Carol also shared a look, silently watching the interaction. The two gays didn’t seem to notice the slight shift, going on their phones.

Daveli couldn’t— wouldn’t let that ruin her night, it’s her birthday. Fuck everything else. The elevator finally got to the first floor and everyone emptied out, walking towards the pool.

When they reached it, they were shocked to see how big it was, this hotel was expensive and the pool probably proved that. “Holy shit, eli.” Carol muttered, everyone was surprised. Daveli giggled, speed walking towards a lounging chair. “Well, come on let’s get wet.”

“Ayo?”

next chapter will be based off a flash back

i’m excited for that

taglist - @melpthatsme @prettygirl-gabi @rebecca-woso @starfulani @avvwritesstufff @evry1luvzzae

[whumplump]

Auction

CW: bidding for a whumpee

The lights on the big stage came on and revealed the magnitude of the scene to everyone who attended the event. Rich men and women enjoyed their glasses of wine at the tables in the main hall. They fell silent to hear the auctioneer speak.

“Ladies and gentlemen, it is an immense pleasure to welcome you here tonight!”

He signaled to his two companions, who headed towards the back of the stage.

“Tonight, I have a special offer for you, my dearings.”

The two men returned, dragging a medium-sized cage on wheels. The auctioneer walked over to it and removed the sheet covering it, revealing a wounded and cornered figure. The poor thing in the cage looked like a trapped animal, moving their eyes across the scene, passing each of the expressionless faces in the audience.

“Here we have a magnificent specimen. Young, healthy, except for these bruises which, by the way, I apologize for my team for causing them”, the auctioneer continued and the audience laughed.

He fit his arms through a recess in the cage and grabbed Whumpee by the back of their neck. He brought them closer for the audience to see, one hand firmly holding them in place, and the other gesturing to explain.

“Look, smooth, hydrated skin. See how the skin sits comfortably over the bones. It's well fed, you can see. Healthy eyes.” He held Whumpee's jaw with his other hand and forced them to open their mouth. “Perfect teeth. Also, I must inform you, it can read and write.”

Several people in the audience began to murmur among themselves, admiring the presentation of the species for sale. An individual raised his hand, but was interrupted by the auctioneer's explosive shout.

“So, let's get started! Who gives the most for it?!”

The audience started to make their bids. Rarely, the price would stand still and the auctioneer would threaten to end the bid, but before that happened, another guest would offer a higher price. Whumpee was released by the auctioneer and went to cower in the corner of the cell. They were shaking, more from the shock than from fear. Thousands of dollars were being offered in exchange for them, as if they were an artifact, a jewel. But Whumpee knew that, in the eyes of those people, they were worth less than that; a slave.

The competition between two specific guests was fierce. At one of the tables, Caretaker feared for the fate of the poor thing selling if they fell into the hands of a rich person with ill intentions, as were most of the people there. Whenever they bet an absurd amount, Whumper came up with an even higher one.

Caretaker squirmed in their seat and ate their own nails, such was their distress. They should be like Whumper, fight for that property. What would be the point of trying to stage a protest? Specimens like the one in the cage were sold at similar auctions every week. What was so interesting about agreeing with, or even trying to reprimand, these rich, sick people?

Whumper stood up from his chair and offered sixty thousand. Caretaker imitated the move and offered ten thousand more. Some other guests in the hall had the courage to increase their bids, but nothing more than a few tens of thousands, rising little by little.

Whumper decreed: 120 thousand.

The auctioneer tapped his shoes on the floor rhythmically. The final move made him jump with excitement.

“120 thousand! Going once…”

Caretaker looked wide-eyed at Whumper, who remained standing, certain of victory. They couldn't raise the bid. It was money they didn't have. If it was worth saving that poor thing in the cage, would it be worth lying and getting into debt?

“Going twice…”

Whumpee stood in the corner of the cell and approached the bars to look into the hall, full of rich snobs. Most were bored now that the bids were impossible to beat. Two guests, standing, one of them, looking at them with a kind of compassion, the other, with malice and possession.

“Sold!”

The room erupted in applause. Whumper smiled to himself and took a big sip from his wine glass in celebration. The auctioneer gave new signals to his companions, who were ready to take Whumpee's cell back to the back of the stage.

Caretaker did not applaud, and sat down defeated.

[pawnshopbleus]

These Are the Days Chapter Fourteen - Girl in Red

Abby Anderson x Fem!Reader High School au

For the summary, warnings, and more, please visit here.

previous chapter.

cw: a fight and mention of homophobic slur used (word not written out)

Abby couldn’t be happier. When she saw the look of surprise on your face when you opened the door, she knew that’s where she wanted to be: with you and her friends. 

Ellie and Dina left early in the morning, and Jesse followed them a few minutes later. Abby lay there with you slumped on her shoulder. As she looked around, she noticed the lack of photos and decorations. Abby’s home was littered with pictures of her as a kid, on fishing trips with her dad, her at her eighth grade dance, there’s even a picture of Ellie on her living room wall. Your house — although beautiful in its own right, lacks the homeliness a person needs to grow. 

Abby sighed at the thought of you missing out on so much due to the neglect of your parents. You have the right to be an awful person. You have the right to shut everyone out, but you don’t. You are the best person Abby’s ever met. You changed her life for the better, and she hopes to do the same. 

Soon after the clock strikes nine, you stir awake and groan, the tangy taste of beer still lingering on your tongue. You don’t move from your spot, fearing that this is all a dream. That you will move a limb and be transported back to your bedroom in California. No matter how much you miss your beachy town and your overpriced everything, you’d rather stay here. At this moment, nothing else matters except you and the girl who changed everything for the better. 

Abby says your name. The second you hear the beautiful timbre of her voice, you can tell that she’s been up for a while. You look up at her, your tired eyes working against the rays of sunlight streaming in through the curtains. 

“I need to ask you something,” she said, her voice laced with worry and something else. Hope, maybe? “Will you be my girlfriend?” 

…

“This is Vic Issac with KKWF radio; how may I help you?” 

“I just found out that my husband of ten years cheated on me with his secretary. I mean, how cliche is that? I am more upset at-” 

Your hand quickly moves to turn off the radio in Abby’s car. You would rather hear a car alarm than hear someone complain about their relationship problems again. Abby’s hand finds purchase on your thigh as she steers and weaves effortlessly through the streets of Bellevue. 

It has been a week since Abby asked you to be her girlfriend. In other words, it has been a week of pure bliss. She picks you up in the morning, opens the door for you, and drops you off after softball practice with her letterman safely in your arms. You’re pretty sure your bike is starting to feel neglected with how little you use it now. 

Abby pulls into her normal spot at the front of the school and rushes over to your side of the car. When you’re with her, she treats you like a princess. You wish you could do the same, but Abby insists that she’s fine. 

Jesse isn’t too happy about the new couple in the group. As the only man, it was hard enough, but now, as the resident fifth wheel, he is starting to feel like dating apps are a good option. 

You and Abby had been successful at avoiding Owen all throughout the week. If you saw him walking down the hall, the two of you would rush into an empty classroom. If he was in the lunch line, you and Abby would sneak out and eat somewhere down the road. 

Maybe it was fate that brought the three of you into this situation. Or maybe it was the fact that Owen is one of the worst people on the planet. 

You didn’t see him barreling down the hallway with a smug look on his face. It wasn’t until his shoulder met yours that you finally recognized his presence. 

“Watch where you're going,” Abby spat. 

“The fuck you just say to me?” Owen walks menacingly toward Abby.

The two of them square up. Abby, being only a few inches shorter than Owen, puffs her chest out to make herself seem taller. The tension in the middle of the hall was so thick it could be cut with a knife. 

“I said, watch where you’re going.” 

“What are you gonna do about it-” The next word out of Owen’s mouth is a word only uttered by the ignorant. It’s ugly and hateful and has no place in anyone’s vocabulary. 

Everything happens too fast for you to recount. Owen is on the floor. Abby is on top of him, delivering blow after blow while he struggles against her weight. People close in on the three of you. Some are taking videos while others chant. You can see Ellie, Dina, and Jesse cheering Abby on. 

You snap out of your trance and try and get Abby to stop. This is a side of her you have never seen. The primal urge to protect those who mean the world to her is noble, chivalrous, and destructive. As you watch her in this state, you can’t help but look at the way her muscles ripple every time she cocks her arm back or the way she grunts in anger. You shouldn’t be feeling this way when she’s in distress, but damn, does your girlfriend look hot. 

…

The front office is colder than the rest of the school. Abby’s knuckles are bloody and bruised under the ice pack provided by the nurse. Owen is alive, but his ego isn’t. After getting beaten up by his lesbian ex-girlfriend, he can kiss his social life and everything that came with it goodbye. His dad isn’t all too happy either, but there’s only so much you can do when you’re about to go to prison for tax fraud. 

The principal's secretary comes out of the shadows and beacons the two of you forward. “Now, don’t be scared and tell the truth,” She opens the door to the principal's office and closes it behind you.

The principal, a tall, slender, and elegant woman with a little midwestern twang to her voice, greets the two of you as you sit down. Her office is warmer than the climate you just left, but being under her gaze sends a shiver down your spine. On her desk sits a cup full of pens, two picture frames facing away from you, and a placard in the middle of her desk. Engraved in fancy letters is her name, Principal Servopoulos. 

“I can’t say that I’m happy to have you in my office under these circumstances. The behavior you exhibited today is unacceptable, Ms. Anderson. What possessed the captain of the softball team to act that way?” 

Abby's leg bounces as she looks down at her injured hand. You can’t help but feel slightly responsible for the outcome of this situation. If you could have just stood your ground and told Owen to fuck off, maybe the two of you would be in your history class, holding hands under the table. Hypotheticals aren’t going to help in this situation. 

“He deserved it,” Abby grits. 

Mrs. Servopoulos shakes her head. “That is neither here nor there. What is important is that you assaulted another student. As a principal, I cannot allow you to participate in any of the upcoming school activities, and I will have to revoke your title as team captain and member of the softball team.” 

Your eyes go wide. “You can’t do that! Abby’s worked too hard for this.” “Ms. Anderson is lucky she isn’t expelled!” “And what punishment is Owen getting for calling her a — that word?” 

“As the principal of this school, I cannot discuss the status of other students,” Mrs. Servopoulos said, leaning in close and whispering as if she were sharing secret information. “But as a lesbian woman with a wife and a kid, I’m going to make him regret opening his mouth.” 

… 

After school, Abby didn’t want to go home. She couldn’t bear to see the look of disappointment on her dad's face. She could kiss all hope of going to college goodbye as her record would be permanently stained.

She could say she didn’t know what came over her, but that would be a lie. She knew exactly what it was. The urge to protect you from the one thing that made her life a living hell. 

As her knuckles met his skull, she could feel all the pent-up tension and frustration she held in the past few years. Punch after punch, she felt herself getting better. Was it a conventional way of overcoming something? No, but it felt good. 

Abby drove the two of you to the pier and refused to let you pay for anything. She was the one who got into trouble, after all. 

The ferris wheel creaked and groaned under the the two of you, tt’s hinges tired after so many years of use. Abby's arm is thrown across your shoulder, bringing you in close. 

“I’m sorry we can’t go to homecoming,” you sigh. 

“I’m the one who can’t go. You didn’t do anything, so, to quote Principal Servopoulos, ‘you are exempt from any punishment.’” 

“If you can’t go homecoming, then why should I? We’re in this together now, whether you like it or not.” 

“I don’t deserve you,” Abby says under her breath. “I’m sorry for getting you into all of this mess.” 

“You shouldn’t be sorry. You saved me, and I’ll be forever grateful.”

Under the twinkling stars and the silvery moon, Abby looks even more radiant than usual. You push a strand that had found its way out of her braid behind her ear and let your hand linger there momentarily. 

“Can I kiss you?” 

You can’t remember who asked who, but you can remember her soft, velvety lips touching yours. 

Tag list: @rew1nds, @colbyweirdo, @mylettterstoyou

Thank you for reading!

Next Chapter - Coming soon

[666anxiety666]

hrrr.rr.r..more ler swansea and lee daisuke.,......

maube like.. cheer up twords..... i think daisuke was a little anxious when they first got on the ship cuz . being in space is scary...... n swansea distracts him / cheers him up with twords...... ok have a good day

@bug-twords

YESYESYES!

I've got ya.

Mouthwashing tickle fic

LEE: Daisuke LER: Swansea

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Daisuke was normally an enthusiastic person, but his nerves were making him a mess. Him? In space? Away from his friends and family? His mom? Daisuke hated it. He hated every part of it. But he wanted to make his mother proud.

everyone on the ship had started to take notice. first it was Curly who noticed. "Daisuke?" Daisuke jumped when he heard his name further up the hall. he hadn't even noticed he had been zoned out with his back to the wall. his head shot up. "c-captain..." Daisuke stammered. "s-sorry, just daydreaming again. I-I'll just get back to work... see ya!" and before Curly could get another word in, Daisuke was heading off the opposite direction down the hall. leaving Curly confused and a little worried.

after that, it didn't take long for the rest of the crew to show a slight concern for the young intern. he was in fact the youngest on board, so they felt responsible for him in some way. and it didn't take long for the word to spread to Swansea. but by then, he had already noticed it in Daisuke's behavior.

it had only been a days after take off and Daisuke was sitting in the living area. "you'll be fine, Daisuke... just think, you'll make mom really... r-really proud..." Daisuke mumbled to himself, his legs bouncing. his hands was very sweaty. what the hell was wrong with him?! he was normally so enthusiastic about things... but not this...

"Daisuke..." Daisuke's head snapped up. Swansea was standing in the doorway. "S-Swansea!" Daisuke instantly sat up straighter. Swansea huffed, walking over and sitting next to his young intern. "you're not in any trouble kid..." Swansea mumbled gruffly. Daisuke was still pretty tense.

"you know... the crew has noticed you've been very on edge lately. but no one had to tell me twice..." Swansea mentioned, looking over at Daisuke, who met his eyes. Daisuke didn't look at Swansea. he rubbed the back of his neck. "so come on... tell me what's up, kid." Swansea sat back. waiting patently for Daisuke would respond.

Daisuke was quiet for a moment. "just... I-I think I just... I don't think I'm cut out for this..." Daisuke stammered. Swansea raised an eyebrow. "what do you mean you're not cut out for this?" "I can't do this... I-I miss home. I can't do this job right, I keep messing up and I've only been here a few days!" Daisuke exclaimed. he seemed to be getting a little distressed.

Daisuke paused, he couldn't look at Swansea. he felt like such a failure already. he should never have come on this ship! at least that's what was going through Daisuke's head. he stopped rambling in his mind when he felt a hand on his shoulder. Daisuke's head shot up and locked eye's with Swansea.

"kid..." Swansea sighed. thinks about what to say next. "I know we got off rough... and sure, you can mess up from time to time..." Swansea continued. "but that's what I'm here for, to teach you... and sure, I can be hard on you. but I see it in you that you really wanna be somethin'... but you all ready are, kid." Swansea let out a gruff chuckle, ruffling Daisuke's hair.

Daisuke blinked a few times. "you mean that?" Daisuke asked. Swansea chuckled once more. "yeah... but don't get used to it!" Daisuke chuckled once more, pushing Swansea's hand on his head. "too late!" Swansea rolled his eye's "the hell am I gonna do with you?" Swansea reached out, poking the younger boys side.

Daisuke jumped. letting out a yelp. "S-Swansea...!" Daisuke whined, covering his side instantly. Swansea grinned. "huh, guess now i know..." Swansea didn't waste anytime digging his fingers into Daisuke's sides with both hands. Daisuke squealed instantly, trying to ran away, but only fell back onto onto the couch. his body jumping in surprise.

"Swansehehea! ehehahaha! nohoho!" Swansea grinned. "what? I need to do somethin' about that attuite..." Swansea switched up to poking and prodding. his hands wondering around over Daisuke's sides and ribs. making Daisuke jump at every poke. "S-Swahahansea! cohohohome ohon!" Daisuke giggled.

Swansea smirked. "plehehease! IhI didn't mehehean ihit!" "you're a little late for that kid..!" Swansea moved his hands down to Daisuke's tummy. Daisuke squealed louder. caught of guard by the sudden change. his legs kicked weakly and hands shot down to grab at Swansea's hands. "NAHAHA- SWAHAHANSEA!" Daisuke's face had started to turn pink.

"Jesus. kid. how sensitive are ya?" Swansea teased. using his hand as a claw on Daisuke's tummy, vibrating slightly. Daisuke's legs kicked a little more. Swansea had to use a leg to pin them down effectively. "PLEHEHEASE! IHI'M SOHOHORRY!" Daisuke cackled, unable to control his laughter. "sorry for what? huh? maybe you shouldn't be talkin' shit about yourself..." Swansea's hands wondered down to Daisuke's hips.

in an instant, Daisuke was screaming. his reaction was sudden, even surprising Swansea. "NAHA- WAHAHAIT! I-IHIH CAHAHAN'T! SWAHAHAHANSEA!" Daisuke practically screamed and his body jumped on contact. the whole ship could probably hear him. Swansea chuckled in surprise. "Jesus, kid. it can't be that bad, can it?" Daisuke couldn't even answer properly, just screaming and cackling as he tried oh so desperately to push Swansea away.

"IHIT IHIHIS! IHIIHIT IS! PLEHEHEASE!" Daisuke let out a scream and threw his head back as Swansea drilled his thumbs into Daisuke's hips. "hm... I don't know, kid... are you gonna stop being all sulky?" Swansea asked. massaging the younger mans hips. Daisuke was barely able to get the words out through his giggles. "OHOKAY! OHOHOKAY! IHI WILL! IHIHI SWEHEHEAR!" Daisuke squealed.

Swansea huffed and finally pulled away, sitting up right once more and leaving Daisuke panting on the couch. the poor kids face and ears bright red. before Swansea could ask Daisuke if he was okay, the door to the living area slid open. "is everything okay in here? I heard screaming..." Anya stood at the door, Curly and jimmy standing behind her.

Swansea looked up at the door. he huffed and waved his hand dismissively. "just teaching the kid a lesson, nothing to worry about..." Daisuke was still panting on the couch. his hair a little messy and he hugged his stomach. the three at the door just blinked for a moment. Jimmy shrugged and walked away with a small smirk. while Anya and Curly chuckled a little before following him.

Swansea looked down at Daisuke. the kid had sat up now and had calmed down a little. "you okay, kid?" Swansea asked. Daisuke nodded. "y-yeah... I think so..." Daisuke lay back on the couch. "you feeling a little better?" "yeah... thanks Swansea..." Daisuke rubbed the back of his neck. "anytime, kid..." Swansea smiled a little. "now come on..!" Swansea stood. "we got work to do..." Daisuke jumped up. "yes sir!" Daisuke exclaimed and walked off in front of Swansea. Swansea huffed a small laugh. "Damn kid..."

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yippee! told yall I'd have one done!

art by @pileoftrshley on instagram