#when people watch strange movies i love so we can talk about them together

[notjanine]

what hidden truths are revealed when people who are so so different from each other choose to love you in the same way

[mcdynamite]

Kissing has never done all that much for Steve, if he’s honest.

It's just not really something he's ever given much thought to before - the way someone kisses - despite the fact that he's locked lips with plenty of people. For him, kissing has always been something nice, but not particularly special. It's never been earth-shattering. Never taken his breath away, the way people talk about in movies and books. It's just a way to be closer to someone, and it's nice, but it's never anything more than that.

Then, Steve kisses Eddie for the first time, and suddenly he gets it.

They're high when it happens, laying side by side in Eddie's unmade bed while the weed sinks into their bones. Steve loves the way it seems to slow down the world around them - makes everything syrupy and sweet, so he feels every brush of Eddie's fingers against his own in every inch of his body as they pass the joint back and forth.

The casual contact makes him long for more, and when he's high, Steve just...gives into the longing. He lets himself drift closer until they're pressed together so closely that Eddie can hide his face in Steve's uncharacteristically messy hair when he's trying to cover up a snort of laughter in response to Steve's deranged weed-induced musings.

Tonight, they meander their way through a directionless conversation - as they so often do when they get high together - until the joint is so small it nearly singes their fingertips. When Eddie finally sits up to stamp it out in the ashtray on the bedside table, Steve tries not to miss the feeling of Eddie's body against his own too much, knowing it'll be back soon enough.

"I'm thinking of handing over the DM throne to Will for the next oneshot, after we finish this campaign," Eddie says, speech slow and thoughtful as he puts out the blunt. "Think he'll be good at it."

Steve just hums, eyes heavy-lidded, gaze fixed on the curls he wants so badly to run his fingers through, just to know what it feels like. He's high enough to not care about the consequences when he decides fuck it, and reaches out to feel the soft ringlets beneath his fingertips.

"You're good at it," he muses - a delayed response to Eddie's comment. If Eddie is bothered by the way Steve is carefully petting his hair, he doesn't show it. Instead, he turns back to look down at Steve with a soft smile that makes Steve's insides feel all gooey.

"Yeah?" Eddie asks, a hint of a smirk overtaking the softness. "You ready to admit that you like watching me play my little nerd game, Harrington?"

Steve blames the quiet whine that escapes his throat on the weed, along with the way he honest-to-God pouts in response to Eddie's words. He tugs on a lock of Eddie's hair petulantly. "Don't like it when you call me that."

Eddie's face does something strange then, and Steve can't quite parse out what it means with the weed making his brain all foggy. He looks...surprised? Fond? Maybe both?

"Sorry, Stevie," he replies, teasing but somehow genuine at the same time. Steve smiles dopily, an expression that Eddie returns. "That better?"

Satisfied, Steve nods. Hums in affirmation. "Yeah. I like that one."

And it's true. Steve loves when Eddie calls him Stevie, because Eddie always sounds so fond when he does, and it makes Steve's heart feel too big for his chest.

"Oh, yeah?" Eddie asks, still grinning as he leans down until he's propped up on one elbow, hovering just over Steve on the bed. "What else do you want me to call you, hm? Stevie? Steve? M'lord?"

The last one makes Steve laugh and close his eyes, happy to bask in the sound of Eddie's voice as he floats along with their conversation.

"Sir Steven? Sweetheart?" Eddie continues, and Steve's heart jumps just a bit at the second one. Then, Eddie murmurs, "Baby?" 

And Steve's eyes fly open.

Steve stares at his friend with wide eyes - lips parted as a soft, punched-out oh escapes him - and it's weird, is the thing. Because Steve has been called baby before, lovingly by his grandmother when he was still a little boy causing mischief while his parents weren't watching, meanly by boys on the playground when he cried over something silly like a scraped knee…and when he got older, teasingly by the girls he took on dates.

It's not a new name for him, but it feels groundbreaking nonetheless.

Because the word sounds so much better coming from Eddie's mouth than anyone else's. It's soft, and fond, and knowing, and...

It's longing.

"Yeah,” Steve croaks. "Yeah."

"Which one? Sir Steven?" Eddie asks playfully, cocking his head to the side like a puppy. He grins maniacally when Steve huffs and shakes his head in disappointment. "No? Which one was it, then, that you liked the most?"

"Eddieeee," Steve complains, burying his flushed face into the pillow and avoiding his friend's gaze. "You know which one."

Eddie shakes his head in an almost scolding manner and Steve is convinced he must've moved closer, because Steve can feel Eddie's breath against his skin, and the air in the room feels about a hundred degrees hotter.

"Nuh-uh, Stevie," Eddie says, poking him playfully in the ribs. "You gotta tell me which one."

Steve hesitates, feeling more and more self-conscious by the second. He sort of wants to hide, but he also really wants Eddie to call him that again. It's probably thanks to his intoxicated brain that he allows himself to answer truthfully. "Baby," he murmurs, uncharacteristically shy.

"Yeah?" Eddie says, voice and smile softening in tandem. "You like when I call you baby, Stevie?"

Steve stares up at him with wide eyes, hardly able to believe this is really happening, and nods. "Yeah. That one."

Eddie is so close, now, that Steve can feel the warmth that emanates from his skin; can see the flecks of gold in his eyes amongst the molten chocolate brown. He's got freckles - Steve realizes. Tiny little dots across the bridge of his nose and the apples of his cheeks that form constellations on his skin. Steve thinks, maybe a bit deliriously, that he would be perfectly happy spending hours tracing them, the way astronomers of old once traced the stars.

"Eddie..." he breathes, heart pounding as he begins to feel more and more desperate for...for something. Anything to let him know that he's not the only one succumbing to the gravitational pull between them.

Eddie blinks slowly, and his eyes widen as though he's just realized something important. Steve watches his throat bob nervously before Eddie finally whispers, "Yeah, baby?"

Steve inhales sharply through parted lips - a soft, plaintive gasp that draws Eddie's eyes to his lips, and-

Oh.

That's what Steve wants, isn't it?

"I-" Steve tries, helpless to stop his own gaze from falling on Eddie's lips - pink and parted and just a little bit chapped, and so, so close.

"Baby," Eddie says again, and this time it's different. Unintentional. Like Eddie said it without meaning to. And maybe it's just the weed, but Steve swears he can feel the word burrowing its way into his chest and settling around his heart like a blanket. It makes his whole body feel warm - something only made worse by the hot coal of desire that begins smoldering low in his gut.

He's so lost in it all that he can't even bring himself to feel embarrassed when he whispers, "Please."

Steve waits with bated breath until finally, any remaining nervousness retreats from Eddie's eyes, and Eddie smiles in that way that makes Steve's stomach flutter. It's such a pretty smile. Steve can only watch as it grows closer, going cross-eyed for the briefest moment in his quest to to stare at Eddie's lips until suddenly his eyes are fluttering shut, because...because...

Because Eddie kisses him with lips still curled into a smile, and Steve thinks - utterly nonsensically - that feeling Eddie's lips against his own is so much better than just looking at them. The thought makes him giggle, just a bit, and he finds himself grinning into the kiss, too.

They part for a moment so Steve can let out another quiet giggle, and Eddie seems to pause for a moment, smiling down at Steve with poorly concealed affection. "Baby," he murmurs reverently, and then he's leaning down to capture Steve's lips in another kiss.

This time, Steve is ready for it, but it draws a muffled whimper out of him nonetheless. His nose fills with the scent of weed and cigarettes and cheap cologne - the smell of Eddie - and it's so overwhelmingly good. He lets his lips fall open on a gasp...doesn't close them when Eddie tentatively brushes his tongue against Steve's own. He shuts his eyes, because the press of Eddie's hand to his cheek and Eddie's chest to his own feel like so much more like that.

Eddie breaks the kiss to gasp in a breath, and inexplicably, that's what really sends every last bit of restraint in Steve's brain packing. It's so simple, so ordinary - the soft, quick sip of air Eddie takes in. It's a breathy little sound that Steve has heard from countless others before, but maybe that's why it puts him in this unfamiliar chokehold of wanting.

This isn't just anyone.

This is Eddie.

And Eddie is making those quiet, lovely little sounds because he's kissing Steve, and Steve is very rapidly realizing that he is utterly incapable of being normal about any of this.

He feels his cheeks go hot as he forces his heavy limbs to move so he can tangle his fingers in Eddie's curls, holding him close (because Steve thinks he might die if Eddie stops kissing him, now). And it's bliss. It's addictive. It's ruinously tender, and Steve feels himself unraveling from within. Feels the knots in his heart - left behind by absent parents, cruel friends, and distant girlfriends - turn to dust at the gentlest brush of Eddie's lips.

He whimpers into Eddie's mouth and clings to him even tighter, feeling his throat grow strangely tight as his eyes sting at the corners, and when Eddie pulls away he's got a small furrow in his brow, just under his bangs. 

"Stevie?" Eddie murmurs. His eyes dart to Steve's cheeks, and when he brushes his thumb along the skin just under Steve's eye, it drags a bit of wetness with it. Only then does Steve realize...he's crying.

And Eddie is wiping away his tears.

"I..." Steve croaks, eyes wide and spilling more tears with every blink. He drags his hands down from Eddie's hair to rest on his chest, beginning to curl into himself as the embarrassment sinks in.

Christ, he's crying. And all they've done is kiss.

Eddie's frown deepens, but he doesn't pull away completely. Instead, he lets their noses brush and breathes, "Baby..."

Steve's breath hitches.

"You're shaking, sweetheart," Eddie continues, still brushing Steve's tears away with gentle fingers. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing!" Steve gasps hurriedly, because as far as he understands, it's the truth. "Nothing's wrong, I just..." He closes his eyes. Swallows the lump in his throat and admits with a trembling voice, "I didn't know it could be like this."

He opens his eyes and sees Eddie's expression soften, but the concern remains. "What do you mean?"

"I just..." Steve tries, sniffling and letting out a quiet, distressed laugh. He slams his eyes shut again and rubs them roughly with his palms, trying to force the tears back into his body. "Jesus, this is fucking embarrassing, man."

"Steve..." Eddie murmurs. He sounds sad. Conflicted. Like he's not sure what to do or how to help - if he should stay or go - and that just won't do, because Steve is certain he'll drift away on the breeze without Eddie to ground him. He's got to try to explain, even with his thoughts still feeling syrupy slow from the weed.

He wants to tell Eddie that he's kissed dozens of people before, but kissing them never felt like this. He wants to explain that he's used to taking the lead, and that it's nice having someone else set the pace, for once. He wants to tell Eddie about the way most people he's kissed have done so - frantically...lustfully. Kissing has always been a simple means to an end. And it's never made Steve feel like this.

What he actually manages to say is slightly different, though.

"No one's ever kissed me like they love me, before."

His eyes are still covered by his own hands, so he can't see what is surely a stunned expression on Eddie's face, but he can hear the way Eddie gasps in response to Steve's words.

It’s too much, he thinks. He's said too much, fast-forwarded too far into the movie. It's too early to be talking about love. Steve knows this. It's just...

His stupid, floaty little brain can't envision a world where someone kisses the way Eddie does without being hopelessly, irrevocably in love.

"Shit," Steve breathes after several minutes of silence. Or maybe it's several seconds. He really doesn't know. Time feels funny, when he's high. "I know that's, like, way too much. I'm too much. I don't know why I-"

"Steve," Eddie interrupts, and Steve snaps his mouth shut. He feels Eddie's hands wrap carefully around his wrists to pull them from his eyes. Eddie is being so careful with him...like he can't see that his tenderness is exactly the thing that’s ripping Steve apart at the seams.

Steve wants to scream. He wants to cry. He wants to drag Eddie back down and kiss him until he can't breathe. Until Eddie's sweetness becomes warm and comforting instead of feeling like the scalding heat of jumping into a hot tub after a dip in the cold waters of the pool.

"Baby, look at me," Eddie says softly.

Steve is helpless but to obey.

Eddie's gaze is sad but kind when Steve finally meets it with his own. He's got the barest hint of a smile on his pretty lips - the same ones Steve so desperately wants to feel against his own, again - and Steve feels his stomach swirl with something he can't quite describe.

"It's not too much," Eddie continues, voice steady. "And neither are you, okay? You, Steve Harrington, are never too much. Not to me."

The words settle over Steve like a blanket, and he can't decide whether it's comforting or suffocating. He just wants to stop talking about things so they can move on. He just wants Eddie.

"Eds..." he rasps desperately. "I don't- I just want-" He cuts himself off with the hitching breath of what may be a sob. He's not really sure, at this point.

"What can I do, honey?" Eddie says, and he really needs to stop with the pet names, or Steve might genuinely fracture into pieces. "What do you want?"

Steve is sunk too deep into the syrupy slow feeling of the weed - too desperate to feel Eddie pressed against him again - to do anything but tell the truth.

"Just want you," he says.

Eddie smiles - eyes crinkling at the corners - and Steve breathes the sight in like oxygen. "You have me, baby," Eddie murmurs. He's rubbing small, comforting circle into the sensitive skin of Steve's wrists now, and it's perfect. It's wonderfully, disgustingly perfect.

"I do?" Steve asks dumbly. His brain feels fifteen seconds behind everything, but he thinks that's probably okay. Eddie seems to be just fine waiting for him to catch up.

"Yeah, Stevie," Eddie chuckles quietly. "Had me for a long time, now. Just wasn't sure if you would want me the way I wanted you."

"You want me," Steve says breathlessly, more to himself than to Eddie. "You wanna kiss me."

Eddie's resulting laugh is a bit louder, a bit brighter, this time. "I do," he says. The sadness is fading from his eyes, giving way to something that looks an awful lot like elation. Steve remains still and watches, entranced, as Eddie carefully hauls himself up until he can swing a leg over Steve's to straddle him.

Still smiling broadly, Eddie leans down until their faces are mere inches apart, studying Steve with those big, brown eyes. "You gonna let me?" he asks Steve, a teasing lilt to his voice.

Steve nods, lips parted in surprise he can't quite seem to shake, and Eddie's expression softens.

"Gonna let me kiss you like I love you, Stevie?" Eddie whispers.

Steve's not sure when, exactly, his tears had begun to dry up, but he knows they must have at some point, because they're returning with a vengeance, now. "Please," he breathes.

Eddie shifts, and Steve expects Eddie to go right back to kissing him, but that's not what he does.

Instead, Eddie releases one of Steve's wrists and cups his cheek tenderly. This time, the feeling of his thumb brushing the tears away is a familiar one, and it makes Steve smile dopily.

"You know the reason I kiss you like I love you?" Eddie asks. Steve shakes his head and tracks Eddie's gaze as it drifts towards the place where his fingers are still wrapped around Steve's wrist. His lips quirk into a smile as he uses his grip to pin Steve's hand to the mattress, right beside Steve's head, and laces their fingers together.

Their noses are brushing, now, and Eddie's hips are resting on Steve's, and Eddie's hair has fallen around them like a curtain to keep the rest of the world out, and it's so much. Eddie is everywhere, and he's everything, and Steve is completely, unquestioningly in love with him - probably has been in love with him for ages, now, and just never let himself think too hard about it.

"I kiss you like I love you, Steve Harrington," Eddie breathes, and their lips brush as he speaks. "Because I love you."

And the thing is…Steve has spent his entire life wondering what it would feel like to know, without a shadow of a doubt, that he was loved. It's something that's eluded him for twenty years.

So it's all the more miraculous when Eddie kisses him again, and suddenly, Steve knows. He knows that Eddie Munson loves him. He feels it in the way Eddie kisses him slowly and deliberately, like it would never have crossed Eddie's mind not to. He feels it in their linked hands, in the way Eddie squeezes his hand when Steve makes a desperate, wanton sound into his mouth.

He feels it when Eddie brushes the hair out of his eyes and smiles before kissing Steve's forehead, then his nose, and then his lips again.

Feels it when Eddie's lips begin to wander down his neck.

When Eddie sucks a mark into the thin skin above his collar bone, just because Steve begs him too.

When Eddie pulls Steve's shirt over his head with careful hands, then lets Steve do the same, because Steve needs the intimacy of skin on skin.

He feels it when Eddie stops Steve's wandering hands from venturing too far south with a firm grip and apologetic eyes, because Eddie wants him - of course he does - but not when they've been smoking. Not when there's even the slightest chance that Steve might wake up and regret it in the morning.

And he hears it, too, later that night when they're laying in Eddie's bed exchanging soft, sleepy kisses, unwilling to drift off and let the night end, just yet.

Their legs are woven together - bare, aside from their boxers - and Steve has lost track of how long they've been tangled up in each other like this. He doesn't particularly care, though. He's pretty sure he could happily spend the rest of his life exactly like this.

"Love you, Stevie," Eddie whispers against his lips. They both smile into the next kiss, and Steve's heart is full to bursting, because he believes it. He knows, now, what it feels like to be loved...to be adored.

"I love you," he murmurs in reply, relishing in Eddie's sharp intake of breath. He giggles a bit, for no reason other than the pure joy that's been coursing through his body all night. "God," he laughs. "I fucking love you, Eddie Munson.

Eddie is quiet for a moment before his face splits into a grin that could rival Steve's own, and he's so goddamn beautiful that Steve almost feels like crying again.

He doesn't cry, though. He just watches adoringly as Eddie smiles and nudges Steve's nose with his own. "Yeah, baby?" Eddie teases.

"Yeah, Eds," he answers simply.

And he's pretty sure Eddie knows - is pretty sure Eddie can feel it - because Steve kisses him for the umpteenth time that night, and he pours every ounce of his heart into it. 

Steve kisses Eddie like he loves him, because he does. God, help him, he does.

And Eddie?

Eddie kisses Steve like he loves him back, and Steve gets it now, because it’s more than just a kiss.

It’s perfect.

It’s earth-shattering.

It’s everything.

--

Shout-out to @lyphyshard for the beta!

For more of my Steddie blurbs and one-shots, check out my masterlist!

[solxamber]

This is a funny lil idea I just had but have you ever thought about rook and a reader that acts like his behavior is normal? Like, they know he's literally stalking them but is perfectly fine with it for some strange reason.

And when they finally do start dating, everyone is either

1. Convinced that he’s threatening your life

Or

2. Judging you like crazy because WHY

Totally Normal Romance || Rook Hunt

You've fallen hard for the hunter and you're dating! But when you tell your friends the good news, they immediately try staging interventions. Huh, I wonder why?

thank you for waiting! I loved the idea a lot and it became way longer than I expected but I hope you like it!

You’ve somehow managed to fall into a relationship with Rook, the Academy's resident “Hunter” and renowned tracker of students who can't even attempt to hide without him finding them.

Most people would be a little alarmed—okay, extremely alarmed—by Rook’s knack for showing up whenever you breathe a little too loud. But you? You’re weirdly, unapologetically chill about it.

The day starts as it usually does. Rook is outside your door bright and early, practically sparkling, ready to report how many steps you took in your sleep, how many breaths you exhaled, and what percentage of your dreams contained images of his dashing silhouette.

You nod, acting like he’s merely sharing the weather, and go about your morning. People are whispering in the hallways; they’ve noticed that the school’s “greatest hunter” is now your personal shadow.

Some think you're being held hostage in an unholy union. Others are convinced you’ve cracked under the pressure of Rook’s endless poetic monologues and have, in fact, lost your mind.

When the two of you officially start dating, the rumors take a delightful nosedive into the surreal. Rook is, naturally, over the moon, reciting sonnets about your “captivating acceptance of his pursuit.” Friends beg you to “see the red flags.”

You just smile as Rook emerges from behind a tree on your morning jog to hand you a flower he found “radiant with the essence of your aura.”

Intervention Attempt 1: Adeuce

You’re just sitting down to lunch when Ace and Deuce suddenly approach you with identical expressions of horror and determination, like they’ve somehow stumbled into a horror movie and taken it upon themselves to rescue the clueless protagonist. Ace, as usual, decides to take the lead.

“We need to talk. About... him.” He jerks a thumb toward Rook, who’s lurking—quite visibly—behind a tree, watching you with a delighted grin as if the entire world is his favorite reality TV show.

You shrug. “Rook’s just being his usual sweet self.”

Deuce’s mouth falls open. “That’s... sweet? The dude’s literally hiding in a tree to stare at you.”

You wave a hand. “He’s just thoughtful, you know? He knew I needed a pick-me-up yesterday, so he waited in my closet for two hours just to surprise me with a motivational haiku.”

Ace’s expression is somewhere between pity and disbelief. “You’re serious? That’s... sweet?”

“Uh-huh.” You pop a fry in your mouth, unfazed. “Honestly, it’s kind of nice to have someone that dedicated.”

Ace and Deuce share a silent, horrified look, one that clearly says, Our friend has lost it. Then, Ace leans in close. “You know, if he’s threatening you, you can blink twice or something. We can handle him.”

You burst into laughter, almost choking on your fry. “Guys, come on! Rook’s harmless. It’s just his way of showing affection.”

Behind the tree, Rook notices you laughing and beams even wider, waving with both hands like you’re his entire world. Ace sighs, looking like he’s just signed up for an impossible mission. Deuce’s brows knit together in concern, like he’s mentally preparing himself to guard you from the “danger” Rook apparently presents.

Intervention Attempt 2: Leona

Leona lounges on the couch as you walk into the room, looking way too relaxed—except for the sharp glint in his eye as he watches you. You know that look; it’s the we need to talk look, though Leona would sooner eat his tail than say it outright.

“You know that guy who keeps creeping around you?” he starts, his tone casual, as if he’s talking about the weather. “The hunter dude?”

“Oh, Rook? Yeah, he’s great!” you reply with a smile, clearly missing his hint.

Leona raises an eyebrow, looking faintly amused. “Great? The guy basically tracks your every move like a lion on a hunt. He’s probably memorized your breathing patterns by now.”

You laugh it off, waving a hand. “Leona, you make it sound creepy. Rook’s just… committed.”

Leona smirks, leaning back with a lazy yawn. “Committed to what, stalking you?”

You shrug. “It’s romantic in its own way! He writes poetry about me, makes sure I’m always safe... It’s kinda nice knowing someone’s always watching out for me.”

“Watching out for you,” Leona mutters, barely concealing a snicker. “Sure. Or just watching you.” He tilts his head, examining you as if you’re some rare species that’s suddenly shown up in the savanna. “You sure he hasn’t put a spell on you? You sound completely out of it.”

You smirk. “Leona, you’re just not used to people showing appreciation.”

Leona narrows his eyes, amusement flickering in his gaze. “You keep saying stuff like that, herbivore, and I’m gonna assume you’ve completely lost it.” He yawns and flops back onto the couch, muttering under his breath, “That crazy hunter and his weird haikus…”

You walk away, oblivious, and Leona just shakes his head with a smirk, quietly wondering if he’ll end up having to pry Rook off of you someday.

Intervention Attempt 3: Riddle

Riddle stares at you over his teacup, his brows knit with concern as you talk about your latest “date” with Rook. You've barely started describing his newest poetic declaration when Riddle sets his cup down, looking thoroughly alarmed.

“I… don’t understand,” he interrupts. “Did you say he was waiting in the shadows outside your dorm window at midnight? And he… recited sonnets?”

You nod, completely unbothered. “Oh, yes! And he was so sweet about it. He even had a rose between his teeth, Riddle. He really went all out.”

Riddle’s expression looks like he’s been hit with cold water. “And you… didn’t feel unsafe?”

“Why would I?” you laugh, waving a hand dismissively. “It’s Rook. He’s just being his passionate self.”

Riddle’s face hardens, and he stands up, clutching his teacup with barely contained fury. “This is unacceptable! You must report this immediately—stalking is a severe issue! You don’t have to tolerate this treatment, no matter how he frames it!”

You blink, surprised. “Riddle, it’s really okay. He’s not stalking me; he’s just… really attentive.”

Riddle’s lips thin, and he looks at you with pity, as if you're just too naive to understand the danger you’re in. “It’s worse than I thought,” he mutters, eyes blazing. “He’s… he’s manipulating you into thinking this is acceptable!”

Riddle finally sighs, shaking his head. “If you’re too afraid to tell him off, I’ll do it for you. As a dorm leader, it’s my duty to protect students in my care.”

“Riddle, I appreciate it, but I don’t need protection,” you insist, patting him on the shoulder. “Rook is harmless.”

Riddle huffs, looking like he’s already planning out the verbal lashing he’s going to deliver to Rook the next time he sees him. “You’ll see,” he says. “When you realize the danger, remember I warned you.”

You just smile, and he glances at you like you’re a sheep walking happily into a lion’s den.

Intervention Attempt 4: Malleus (And Lilia?)

When Malleus summons you to Diasomnia for what he calls an “urgent matter,” you’re intrigued. However, when you arrive, his expression is downright grave. The flickering candlelight gives his face an eerie glow as he looks at you, his usually calm demeanor laced with worry.

He leans in close, and his eyes narrow. “I understand you… spend much time with Rook,” he says, voice almost a whisper.

“Uh, yeah? We’re dating,” you say, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

Malleus blinks, clearly taken aback, as if he was expecting an entirely different answer. “So you willingly… permit him to lurk in the shadows around you?”

“Well, yes, he’s got that whole poetic ‘silent protector’ thing going on.” You shrug, but Malleus doesn’t look any less alarmed.

“I see,” Malleus says, more to himself than to you. “So he’s already gained control over you.” He sighs, looking deeply concerned. “Fear not. I will protect you from him.”

Before you can respond, Lilia, who’s been silently watching with a smirk, bursts into laughter.

“Oh, Malleus, you’re taking this far too seriously,” he cackles, clapping a hand on Malleus’s shoulder. “Rook isn’t dangerous—well, unless you count bad poetry as a weapon.”

Malleus doesn’t look convinced. “You find this funny?” he asks, frowning.

“Of course I do!” Lilia grins, wiping a tear of laughter from his eye. “They’re dating, Malleus. Rook doesn’t even know how to scare a fly when it comes to them.”

Malleus turns back to you, still worried. “Are you… certain you’re safe?”

You nod, but the look of pity in his eyes says he’s clearly unconvinced, as if he thinks you’re only defending Rook out of fear. Meanwhile, Lilia gives you a wink and a mischievous grin, enjoying the absurdity of the whole situation.

Intervention Attempt 5: Azul

You’re strolling past the Mostro Lounge, hoping to grab some food, when Azul intercepts you, looking unusually serious. He gestures for you to follow him into a private corner, glancing around as if he's worried someone might overhear.

“I understand you’ve been spending quite a bit of time with Rook,” he says, his tone grave, though there’s a glint in his eyes that tells you he’s already calculating something.

You raise an eyebrow. “Yeah, we’re dating.”

Azul’s expression shifts to something between shock and pity, as if he’s just heard you’ve taken up with the Grim Reaper himself. “Dating? So… you’re aware he’s stalking you?”

You shrug. “He’s not stalking—he’s just keeping an eye out. Very vigilant, actually.”

Azul’s face darkens. “Right… vigilant.” He clears his throat. “In that case, allow me to offer the services of Floyd and Jade for your… protection.”

You blink. “Protection?”

“Yes. For a reasonable price, of course,” he says with a smooth smile, back to his usual self. “Consider it a sort of… insurance in case this arrangement with Rook takes a… dramatic turn.”

He leans forward, lowering his voice. “Imagine if you had two skilled guards who could tail him as closely as he tails you.”

Before you can respond, Floyd appears out of nowhere, draping an arm over your shoulder and grinning. “We could totally scare him, too. Make him feel like he’s the one being hunted!”

Jade nods from behind him, his smile too sharp to be comforting. “Yes, we’re more than happy to shadow Rook if you’d like.”

You stare at the twins, whose predatory smiles seem to stretch further the longer they look at you. “Guys, I appreciate the offer, but Rook’s fine. I’m not being held captive.”

Azul raises an eyebrow, but he doesn’t push, instead sighing in that dramatic way of his. “Very well. The offer stands should you need it. Just remember: one word, and we’re at your service.”

As you walk away, you catch a quiet exchange between the twins.

“Do you think we’d even get the chance to tail him, Jade?”

“Hmm… I’d say it’s more likely he’d follow us, Floyd.”

You shake your head, amused. Only Azul would find a way to capitalize on your love life.

Intervention(?) Attempt 6: Vil

You’re backstage in Pomefiore, helping Vil with his costume adjustments for his latest role when he pauses, hands on his hips, giving you a long, evaluative look.

“So… you and Rook?” he finally says, an eyebrow raised with an almost resigned air.

“Yeah.” You grin, shrugging. “I mean, he’s… intense, but it works.”

Vil sighs, pressing two fingers to his temple as if that would ward off the headache he’s certain to get from this conversation. “You realize that most people would find his behavior concerning, right?”

You wave him off. “He’s harmless. Just… expressive.”

He gives a soft, humorless laugh, as though he’s not sure if you’re just that naive or that confident. “You’re both completely mad, you know that?”

“Maybe,” you say, leaning back with a shrug. “But I like it that way.”

Vil sighs again, and there’s a glimmer of a smile, even if it’s hidden behind a look of sheer exasperation. “Well, at least he won’t make you look bad. He’ll be too busy swooning in the background to do anything truly reckless.” He adjusts your collar with an air of finality, giving you a nod. “Good luck. You’ll need it.”

And with that, he returns to his preparations, mumbling something under his breath about how only you could take Rook’s intensity as a “feature” rather than a “warning sign.” But you catch the faint smile on his face as he walks away, leaving you feeling oddly reassured.

Final Intervention: Idia

Idia’s “intervention” is the sort of spectacle that would probably have your other friends dial emergency numbers if they walked in. He's got his laptop perched on a stack of comics, his tablet propped up, and an honest-to-Seven laser pointer he’s brandishing like it’s going to physically ward off any poor life choices.

He points at his first diagram, titled in neon-green font: "Why Your Boyfriend Should Not Be Tracking Your Every Move Like a Supervillain”. It's complete with cartoonish red arrows and diagrams that could pass for an undergrad thesis on questionable behavior.

Rook’s sitting beside you, nodding along with a strangely approving look, as if Idia's crude drawings are just part of the "unrefined genius" he'd expect from mere mortals.

When Idia clicks to his next slide—a very intense pie chart on “Reasons You’re Definitely in Danger"—you shrug. “Look, Idia, everyone’s got their quirks, right? He leaves poetry scrolls for me; you send messages only through encrypted text channels with six layers of memes as the header.”

Idia stares at you, blinking, and drops his laser pointer. It rolls pathetically across the floor, and he looks like he’s two seconds away from fainting. “Th-This isn’t the same! I don’t leave my IP address in your flowerbeds!”

Rook, thrilled, interjects. “Ah, but would you not feel a poetic stirring in your heart if you did, monsieur? Every new line I compose is a love letter to the chase!”

Idia sways. You’re genuinely worried he might black out.

Life, as it turns out, continues with a healthy dose of Rook’s “love language,” which to everyone else looks like the dictionary definition of a security risk.

Yet, you find yourself smiling every time he swoops in with that glittering look in his eyes, poetry scrolls under his arm and a thousand strange ideas.

And even if everyone around you is either looking into exorcisms or planning escape routes, for you, it’s just another day of living your best life.

Masterlist

[blond3ang3l]

🌷♡₊˚geek lover! eren🦢・₊✧

———————————————————————

This is a remake of the already geek lover eren, but specifically a sfw version but I actually really love this story

———————————————————————

Eren is a geek lover. He absolutely is enamored with you. Watching your lips with every word you spoke. The way you got excited telling him about every single new detail of the things you got interested in. Eren worked hard as a famous rnb singer, long days in the studio trying to perfect his songs. Then having to perform when he literally had the WORST anxiety known to man. It always felt like someone needed him and was on his ass about something.

But he did it all for you. So you can have everything your heart desired. He left nothing behind when it came to you. You wanted to see a new sci fi movie? He already bought out the theater. There’s a new podcast you like? He’s downloaded all the episodes for you on both yours and his phone. Don’t even get started on books. On your first date you mentioned you like to read and study psychology in your free time. Once you moved in he had your very own book room built for you. Carefully picking out each book for you on his own. Your own desk and room for you todo your writings in. He even surprised you with a laptop and camera so you can start your own podcast! He just wanted to show you how much he loved and supported you.

For moment like this were he could come home and listen to you tell him. About the things you've watched in your huge list of video essays that you had in a playlist on YouTube. How you lit up telling him different facts from how the dating game killer had a coworker that also happened to be a serial killer and he didn't know to the conspiracy theory of the 27 club, no matter what you said it always made you so happy and seeing you all giddy and stimming while you talked to him made him so content with his life.

"I know cotards syndrome, Koro, Diogenes, fregoli, hypochondria, pica, capgras, boanthropy, apotenmophilia, kulver bulcy, ekbom, erotomania, Stendhal. Pics is like one of the more well known. You know that show my strange addiction that we watch together? Yeah so like those people who eat the random shit like the lady who ate rocks- omg that reminds me!"

Erens ass was not listening one bit. He was watching you, watching your body. You guys had been apart for a little over a month so could do a very short tour in another country and he was sick as fuck that he couldn't bring you.

Everyone knew it too. His attitude fucking sucked that trip. He was antsy, his anxiety was through the roof, he snapped at everyone, overall he fucking hated it. But now, sitting here with you he finally felt at peace.

You were sitting on his lap, yapping his ear off.His eyes couldn't help but wander to your legs which lead him to notice you were wearing his boxers. Your hands thick thighs were filling them out so well. His hands moved to grip them as he watched you talk. You’d kill him later for not listening but he just felt so much dread when he was away from you that he couldn’t help but just stare at you forever.

“Rennie, papa are you okay? You’re getting all red. Are you feeling sick baby?”

You were worried, he had a bad history of getting sick easily. With him coming back from another country he could have likely caught something. It would hurt your heart to know he wasn’t feeling well.

“I’m fine baby. Keep going. I wanna hear you talk.”

“Are you sure baby? We can go lay down if you’d like.”

It warmed his heart how much you cared for him. You made him the man he was. He used to be so closed off to anyone that wasn’t your friends mikasa and armin. You taught him how to deal with the grief of life and got him therapy to get through the rough days of his depression. He just loved you so much and truly couldn’t imagine being anywhere without you.

“I’m fine baby, just missed you so much..”

For my girlie @merakidoll

[askinkiskarma]

i just had an idea while talking with ai neteyam last night. What about human reader asking neteyam to make a "movie" together. Or else neteyam learning about porn thanks to one of the guy from the lab and asking reader if she wants to do one. ‼️

wait no cause Neteyam learning about human stuff does things to me and I need to write more of it for my own sanity. also i've discovered my fave trope to write is "people doing embarrassing things and other people catching them and the interactions that bloom thereafter". anyway, enjoy bestie x

ps: i'm probably going to have reached 1800 followers when this is posted so thank you besties ilysm smooches!!!

wc: 990 words

18+ minors dni

Neteyam was up and early today in the lab, too excited to see you and spend the day together to wait any longer. He was a bit disillusioned though, as he came and found you fast asleep in your bed, but despite the minor disappointment, he absolutely adored how relaxed and comfortable you looked as you were splayed like a starfish under the covers, your feet dangling slightly off both sides of the mattress.

He decided to keep busy for a while with the scientists in the lab. He essentially grew up with Norm and Max, a strange, peculiar constant in his otherwise all Na'vi lifestyle and he had his dad to thank for that. He loved them, they were like uncles to him, and despite how much he hated to admit it, there were certain things about humanity he liked, and certain things about humans he found... endearing. Clearly, he thought with a chuckle, mind wandering to you.

"Neteyam, good morning! You're here early today, is everything ok?" Norm had a big smile on his face and his predisposition brightened Neteyam's, who was suddenly happy to be able to spend a little one-on-one time with him.

"Everything's fine, just came to see her, but she's still sleeping."

Norm chuckles as he removes his gloves and throws them in a nearby yellow bin.

"Yeah, she was doing data analysis until late last night. She used my laptop, you can look at it if you want? We did some a timelapse of an immunofluorescent experiment and it's actually really cool to see. Just open my laptop and it should be there."

Neteyam did as he was told. When he opened the lid of the laptop, the image he saw stilled him on the spot, his hand still gripping the screen, almost unable to move or think, just feeling a tinge of raw curiosity, of unhindered temptation. Because on the screen were two humans. The woman was on all fours, head thrown so far back Neteyam was almost worried for her, eyes shut tightly and an almost pained expression on her face, although Neteyam doubted pain was anywhere near what she was feeling in the moment. The man was kneeled behind her, his cock sunk in her almost to the base, holding on to her long ponytail and pulling on it with one hand, the other hand tightly gripping her hip, imprints clearly visible on her skin.

The feelings this evoked in Neteyam were mixed and intense, from wonderment, to confusion, to deep, intense arousal, the blood quickly rushing from his brain to much lower down, and he felt the need to adjust his loincloth to ease some of the discomfort he was currently experiencing. What was this? Who were these people? He's never seen them before among the humans, and Eywa, was Neteyam glad to say that.

"Um... Norm, I don't think this is the experiment you wanted me to see."

Norm walked over to where Neteyam was sitting, mildly amused at Neteyam and his obvious lack of skill around technology. Neteyam almost jumped out of his skin at Norm's gasp and startled demeanour when he saw what Neteyam was looking at, and at how aggressively he was pushing the off button, trying to remove the image from his eyes, and his brain.

"Fuck... I... I'm so sorry, Neteyam. I -..." Neteyam watched dumbfounded as Norm turned on his heels and left, still wearing his labcoat and goggles, and he knew that if Norm were to have a tail, it'd definitely be in between his legs right now.

You were sprawled on the bed similarly to how you had been just a few hours ago, except right now you had the added weight of a almost 9 foot tall alien on top of you, a weight you'd never want to lose. He looked nervous about one thing or another, and you knew based on how his breath was increasing in speed that he was going to spill it soon enough.

"What is it, Teyam? Come on, out with it."

His cheeks turned a deep shade of purple as his eyes avoided yours.

"I saw something today, on Norm's laptop... something I don't think I was meant to see."

"Oh?" That definitely peaked your attention. What would anything on Norm's laptop make Neteyam so fidgety?

"It was... a man and a woman... they were... uhm... naked." Neteyam felt like his face was about to catch fire, and you cackled loudly, finding it hard to believe that Norm had porn on his laptop and was so careless about it.

"OH, MY GOD! I'M NEVER LETTING HIM LIVE THIS DOWN!"

"Wh-what.. was it?"

"Oh, yawne... it's called porn. It's... a video of people going at it."

Neteyam's confusion didn't lessen; quite the opposite, actually.

"But why?"

"Well, let's see, what did it make you feel?" Your raised eyebrow and knowing smirk was enough to make Neteyam's ears flatten in shame.

"Well...I -"

You chuckled. "There you go. That's why. It helps humans... release tension. If it's done well, it can be quite the experience."

"D-do you watch... porn?" the word felt weird and unfamiliar rolling off his tongue.

"Sometimes. But honestly, I think I'd prefer making porn."

Neteyam almost choked at your words, but couldn't help the way his cock twitched in his tewng, and how much his mind wandered at the image he saw and how much he wanted to see you in it, it in front of his eyes, there captured for eternity for him to enjoy... over and over again.

"You... want to... make porn?"

Your hips raised, brushing against his now rock hard-on, moaning a little at the way it relieved some of the pressure building up in your core.

"Only with you, yawne."

He kissed you passionately, ripping the buttons on your top as he undressed you, and made a mental note of yet another thing he should thank humans for.

[perksofbeingpoet]

new headcanons!

☆ THE POETS AT THE CINEMA ☆

(this got really long bc i love them so much aahhhh i hope you enjoy these headcanons as much as i do-)

CHARLIE: his favourite genre is comedy, plus movies about outlaws and teen rebels, says "so me" all through the film. oh yeah he doesn't shut up ever, talks the whole time until someone tells him to please stop talking because the movie's more interesting than how he'd dress as a pirate. every time there's a kissing scene, he turns to the poet sitting next to him and wiggles his eyebrows with a smirk. a nightmare to clean up after, his popcorn ends up all over the floor and himself. BUT all this doesn't apply to emotional movies. if a movie is sad, charlie is silent the entire time, doesn't crack a joke once and comes out of it with half his popcorn left.

KNOX: cries when watching romance, tells the poets he's not crying!! just the dry air of the cinema getting to him. insists on taking pictures of them in front of the movie poster. has accidentally thrown his ticket away instead of the receipt on several occasions. if there are cardboard cut-outs of characters at the cinema, he needs to take pics with all of them. eats a strange mixture of snacks, popcorn, pretzels and ice cream. asks "whAT?" at least five times through the movie bc he can't follow the plot. really fun to watch a movie with because he'll audibly gasp at every plot twist. idk him at the cinema is really cute guys i swear.

PITTS: needs a toilet break three times throughout the movie (tall guy small bladder king). his legs get cramps from the rows being too narrow but he doesn't care, pittsie LOVES going to the cinema. will most often go with knox and meeks, they're the best film trio. knows loads of lore about all sci-fi movies they watch, and acts annoyed at people asking questions because OF COURSE ni-bo64 has to destroy Leobor. eats salty snacks and always chooses the biggest cup of soda (meeks points this out every time pittsie has to squeeze around him to go to the toilet). loudly shouts "YES" when something he approves of happens. is the best sport about charlie's smirks in kissing scenes, he just like puts his hand on charlie's thigh really slowly and mouths 'hi'.

MEEKS: really likes movies with a hidden message, is the only one charlie will watch emotional movies with. but also just a huge nerd, him and pittsie watch sci-fi stuff together and then talk about every plot point for an hour. ORANGE SODA. really big fan of good film music. can't sit still and always steals the arm rest. doesn't talk but says "WHAT??" way too loud when a plothole occurs or a thing he was hoping for doesn't happen. is the one to buy the tickets.

NEIL: loves the comfy velvet seats. always has half a breakdown about "omg maybe i should go into film instead of stage acting??" after seeing a movie he really likes. is a little movie nerd, especially for superhero movies! loves the moment of stepping out of the cinema into the fresh night air. his snack is sweet popcorn or gummy bears. gets so excited when something cool is about to happen, he's waving his arms and being like "oh- ooohhhh- oooohhhhhh" until the cool thing actually happens. makes sure everyone has their tickets (goes into airport dad mode). laughs a lot and looks around at all the poets like "did you see that??" as if they're not all watching the same movie.

TODD: too anxious to complain about sitting behind a tall person, he'll often try to sit on top of his balled-up jacket to be a bit taller and see enough of the screen. pitts notices after a while and is like "hey todd, could we swap seats? i'd love to sit next to knox". todd only realises what that was about a few hours later and is silently soo grateful for pitts not embarrassing him. likes artsy movies where not a lot happens, and LOVES reruns bc then he already knows the plot and can relax. doesn't ever talk throughout the movie but laughs SO MUCH. mouths the lines when he already knows a movie. when there's a kissing scene he'll get embarrassed. doesn't buy snacks cos they're "too loud" and then eats all the other poets' snacks. every time. likes watching the ads before the movie.

CAMERON: asks "does anyone need to go to the bathroom before the movie starts" like fifty times before they watch the movie. hates sitting next to strangers during the movie because then he's always hyper aware of his behaviour and can't really focus on the film. likes historical movies and will watch them with todd (no one can tell me todd/cameron friendship isn't real, it makes so much sense). salty popcorn kinda guy. knows the names of all the actors and actresses.

[tkwrites]

Back to You - Matthew Tkachuk x Jessie (ofc)

gif from @drysaladandketchup

Title: Back To You

Author: Tory / @tkwrites 

Relationship: Matthew Tkachuck  x Jessie (ofc)

Warnings: Swearing, lots of flirting. Slow burn. Smut at the end: fingering (f receiving), oral (f and m receiving).

Summary: Jessie and Matthew meet at a New Years Eve party and form an instant connection. When a fire rips them apart, can fate bring them back together? 

Word Count: 12,700

Comments: This is my entry for @wyattjohnston‘s winter fic exchange written for @luvsherleafs

This is by far the longest piece I’ve written for Tumblr. I had a really clear vision of where I wanted it to go, and I eventually got it there. In the end, I’m so proud of how it turned out. I hope you enjoy, and would love to know what you think.

Many, many thanks to Mari @eyesthatroll and Bre @fallinallincurls for looking this over and assuring me it wasn’t garbage when I was in the trenches of writing. 

Me and you  We were a strange situation  And kissing you  Felt like Christmas Vacation  An exciting place to escape  Sometimes I wish that I could've stayed Cause you were my favorite Holiday  -Christmas Vacation by LØLØ

Back to You

Matthew couldn't tear his eyes away from her and knew he wasn't the only one. 

With dark hair cascading down her back in a long, shiny waterfall, big eyes and a plump little mouth that looked just made for kissing, she was the kind of classic girl next door people wrote into movies and books for the hero to find his way back to.

He especially liked what she was wearing. Bare legs weren’t really something he would advise at two hours to January in Ottawa, but at least it wasn’t a mini skirt like most women were tugging at constantly. Her shorts had a gold stripe on the sides that caught the flashing lights, as if they might have once been extravagant tuxedo pants tailored explicitly to show off her curvy legs. Her dark shirt had flecks of something metallic in the fabric - a wrapped and tied number like he’d never seen before. 

Laughter was all over her face as she danced with the people around her. Slamming her foot (clad in gold oxfords) down with the beat before circling her hips in time with the music. 

“Do you need a towel, man?” 

“What?” Matthew asked, pulling his eyes away to look at his brother.

“I asked if you needed a towel,” Brady repeated, failing to keep the teasing smile off his face, “for the drool.”    

Matthew flipped him off, and Brady laughed. 

“Go talk to her,” he encouraged, pushing Matthew off the bar stool. “I’m sick of watching you sit here and stare at her. Go do something about it.”  

He hesitated. It hadn't been that long since he’d broken up with Heidi.

“Go,” Brady repeated, shoving him across the walkway onto the dance floor. “Move on.”

Although he wasn't sure if he was ready to meet someone new, Matthew knew Brady was right. He’d be kicking himself come morning if he let a woman this good looking go without at least shooting his shot. 

As he weaved through the crowd of dancers, his competitive drive growled in his chest, pleased. He’d be damned if he let someone else get to her first.

“Your admirer is coming this way,” Roger said, nodding to someone over Jessie’s shoulder. 

She glanced over. A tallish guy with curly hair was walking right at her, a determined intensity all over his handsome face. Her gaze swung back to Roge, eyes wide. 

“Just letting you know so you can prepare,” he said with a wink. “I told you those shorts would bring all the boys.” 

Although she'd made them for the occasion, she didn't think they would pull the amount of attention they were getting. Her clothes often garnered a lot of lingering glances, though they usually came from other women. 

Someone tapped on her shoulder and she turned.

The same guy was standing in front of her. He was much taller up close, had light eyes, and his hair looked like it might be blonde. It was hard to tell under the dim dancefloor lights. 

He flashed her a charismatic smile. The gap between his front teeth only added to his charm. 

“Can I buy you a drink?” he asked, leaning in and yelling to be heard over the music. 

Jessie wasn’t generally the type to accept drinks from random strangers, but this guy was hot, had nice style, and of all the dudes that had stared at her that evening, was the first one to do something about it. 

“Sure,” she yelled back. 

“Wanna go to the bar?”

After she nodded and they started walking through the mass of dancers, she glanced over her shoulder. Roge lifted his phone out of his pocket and shook it at her. His flashlight turned on. 

She sent him a text about going to the bar and his flashlight, made sure the ringer was turned on, and slipped her phone back into her shorts pocket. Another good thing about making her own clothes: she could make the pockets as big as she needed.

Matthew couldn’t keep the smug smile off his face at the glares and disappointed looks that followed them to the bar.

“What'll you have?” the bartender asked as they came to a stop in the corner of the club. It was a bit quieter. 

“A mojito, please” she said, before gathering her hair into a fist behind her and running her hand down the length of it. 

Momentarily distracted by her actions and the flash of dark red, the bartender had to ask him again what he wanted. 

“Beer would be great,” he said, flashing a bright smile, “whatever light you recommend.” Glancing back at the girl, he ran a hand through his hair to make sure it wasn’t doing something stupid, and said, “I'm Matthew, by the way. “

“Jessie. Are you from around here?”

“No, but my brother lives here. You?”

“My family is from here, but I'm usually in the states.” she said, watching the bartender muddle the mint in her drink. He didn’t seem to be doing anything funny with it. 

“Yeah? Which one?”

“New York. Well, technically New Jersey, but I study in New York.”

“What do you study?” Matthew asked, lifting his beer bottle to his lips. 

“Fashion.”

“I should have guessed,” he said. 

“You should have?”

“Yeah. You have great style.”

The smile that spread over her face made him want to kiss her. 

“What do you do, Matthew?” she asked, as she brought the black straw in her drink to her mouth. She caught it between her tongue and teeth before her lips wrapped around it. 

His train of thought ran off the rails with visions of her mouth wrapping around other things.

Thankfully, autopilot kicked in and saved him from looking like a total creep, “I play hockey.” 

“Seriously?”

He nodded. “I'm based in Florida.”

“Why the hell are you in Ottawa for New Years,” she asked, aghast, “when you could be somewhere warm?”

“We played here yesterday, so my family are all staying with my brother. Why are you here?”

“My dad grew up here, and wanted us to experience the joys of the frozen tundra at Christmastime,” she said with a long sweep of her hand, as if gesturing to the whole country. 

He laughed again, and held her eye contact. It was so intense, she was the one to break it. 

“Anyway,” she flipped her free hand, “what do you do for fun?” 

“I honestly don’t have that much free time, but I always enjoy a good libation,” he said, holding up his bottle. 

A wide smile spread over his face when she clinked her glass against it as she said, “amen.” 

“And I like to hang out with people and I play a lot of other sports.” 

“I will never understand why athletes always want to play other sports. It’s not like I sew upholstery when I’m not making clothes.” 

He laughed, loud and genuine, and Jessie felt her heart flutter a little. 

“It can be hard to turn off the competitive drive, so it helps to have somewhere to channel it. So did you make these clothes?” he asked, nodding at her outfit. 

“Yeah. I found this gold fabric,” her fingers ran down the stripe on her left hip, “and fell in love with the idea of tuxedo shorts for New Years. I play around with a lot of menswear styles.” 

“I like them,” he said. If he, by some miracle, got nominated for another award, maybe he would get a gold striped tux made. 

“We have to wear suits to all of our games, so I’m always looking for something new and interesting,” he said. 

The conversation lulled for a moment, and he continued, “what do you do for fun?” 

“I also enjoy a good libation,” she clinked her glass against his again, “and I like to play tennis and I love movies.” 

The rest of the night was spent in that little corner of the bar, talking and laughing - Matthew was funny. Quick with a movie quote and a sarcastic comment in her ear. She told him about coming to the club with her cousins, only one of whom she really knew, and he told her about coming with his family. A younger, married brother, and a sister still in college. 

He refreshed their drinks and marveled at finding a woman who could keep up with his banter, genuinely laughed at his jokes and seemed interested in him as a person rather than as Matthew Tkachuk. 

They talked about hockey, she knew some as her dad was Canadian, but not a lot, then about fashion. 

She admitted one of the reasons she’d said yes to his drink had been his pants. 

“Listen, more American men need to understand how many more girls they’d get if they just wore the right pants!” 

He cocked an eyebrow. 

“Your pants are fitted properly so I can see your ass and your thighs, and it makes you about a thousand times more attractive.” 

A cocky smile spread over his face, “Oh, yeah?” he asked, leaning into her space. 

She gulped, “yeah. If more men wore pants like yours, they wouldn’t be single.” 

He stayed in her space, and her eyes darted to his lips. He licked them, just to see what she would do at the flash of his tongue. 

Her eyes darted back to his and her cheeks pinked. He smiled. 

The music changed to a slower, more house-style song he recognised. Jessie bumped her shoulders to the beat. 

“Do you want to dance?” Matthew asked.  

“Sure.” 

They moved to the floor, and he watched, entranced as she swung her hips in rhythm.

When she turned around, pressing flush against him, his right hand immediately grasped her hip, as if that might provide some kind of grounding from the fluttering feeling in his chest. 

It wasn’t like this had never happened - girls grinding up on him. It happened quite a lot, actually. Sometimes without any kind of consent. But this? Jessie? He couldn't get enough. She was pretty and they had the kind of instant chemistry you couldn't fake. 

He found himself thinking about her beyond that night. A first since Heidi. 

For her part, Jessie couldn't stand not touching him any longer. The chemistry between them was so palpable, she was surprised other club goers weren’t getting caught in it. Feeling him move against her made desire rumble to life in her belly, growling to be released. 

They danced that way for - Matthew lost track of how many songs. She felt amazing pressed up against him. He was so in tune with how they moved together, the dancing felt like foreplay. 

When the countdown to midnight began, she turned to face him. They were still so close - she could feel his body heat seeping through his clothing and into hers, see the way his button down was just starting to cling to his skin. 

Matthew looked down at her, not hiding any of his interest. She looked back with so much hope and lust in her eyes, his stomach twisted. 

“Three, two, one!” the crowd cheered. 

He leaned down, then paused, “okay?” 

Rising onto her toes, she closed the gap between them in answer. 

All of their flirting was leading up to this moment, and Jessie wasn’t disappointed at all. It was as if everything around them faded into soft focus and the din of the crowd melted away. It was better than she could have imagined. His tongue brushed along hers, and heat flooded her stomach. 

Matthew angled closer when her fingers slid into his hair. His hand splayed over her lower back. He wished he didn’t have this beer bottle so he could have both hands on her.

It went on and on for what felt like ages - a promise of things to come. 

Someone cat called from nearby, and Jessie broke away, pursing her lips to hide how flustered she felt. At least he was as breathless as she was, his chest expanding to the confines of his shirt with every inhale. 

They stared at each other for a moment longer, not quite engaged with the crowd, which was growing increasingly restless with the New Year in full swing.

She was debating between kissing him again, or asking if he wanted to leave all together when the lights went out, plunging them into total darkness. 

The suddenness of it made her laugh. She thought it must be some kind of prank until all at once, a mono tone alarm started to scream. Lights began to strobe - harsh, bright flashes that instantly made spots appear in her vision. 

The word “fire” was popping up in the crowd.

Just as he was starting to register what was happening, murky water cascaded from the ceiling. 

The club was dissolving into chaos. Matthew snapped out of his reverie, and looked around for Taryn. 

“I have to find my sister,” he told her.

As Jessie's face was illuminated by the flashing lights, she looked stricken and worried. 

“I’ll call you, though!” he promised.

“But -” she watched him run off, knowing she hadn't given him her number. She didn't even know his last name. 

“Jessie!” Roger yelled from somewhere to her left. Her eyes roved for him, and landed when he shouted again, waving his cell phone flashlight in his own face.

She ran to him, and they followed the swarming crowd outside. 

To her complete surprise, smoke was pouring out of the building and the fire department was pulling up. She had been certain someone had pulled the alarm as a prank. 

“Fuck it’s cold out here,” she said, wrapping her arms around herself, as if that would do any good. Her coat was inside, a pair of wool tights tucked in one of the pockets. She'd planned to put them on in the bathroom before they left. 

“We should call it,” Lacey said. “Catch the next train. If we hurry we won't have to wait for another one.”

“But my coat’s in there,” Jessie complained. She hadn't made it, but she may as well have, she’d altered it so much. It was the best thing in her wardrobe. 

“We’ll come back tomorrow,” Roger assured, “but Lacey’s right, we should get out of here. We’re soaked and it’s below freezing.”

It wasn't just the coat. She didn’t want to lose Matthew. She hoped she might run into him in the parking lot, but had yet to see him.   

Roger and Lacey were right. Her wet clothing was already starting to freeze - stiffening and biting into her skin. Glancing around the crowd once more, she hoped she might see him, but there were too many people moving in too many different directions. 

As Roger pulled her away, she hoped against hope the universe would bring them back together. It had been so long since she'd felt a spark like she had with him.

“Who was that girl you were kissing at midnight?” Taryn asked, her tone suggestive as she waggled her eyebrows at her oldest brother. 

“Her name is Jessie,” he said, looking around for Brady. He finally spotted him with Emma and some of the Sens guys across the parking lot. 

“Seemed pretty serious.”

Matthew rolled his eyes. “We got on, that’s all.” 

“I’ve seen you look like that before, and that was not just getting on with someone,” Taryn argued. “I hope you got her number.” 

“I did,” he assured, then stopped dead in their pursuit through the crowd. 

Taryn ran into his back. “Matthew!” she complained. 

He was too busy digging his phone out of his pocket to apologize or move out of the way. Thankfully, it wasn’t ruined. As he opened his recent contacts, though, he found his fear confirmed. 

Taryn pushed on his back, “Matthew, move! I wanna get inside.” 

The older brother in him took control, wrapping his arm around Taryn's shoulder to lead them to Brady and finally into the car to go home. 

As they settled into the SUV, heat blasting to melt the ice that had formed in their hair and on their cheeks, Emma punched Matthew in the arm. “That was some New Year's kiss, Matty.” 

The disappointment of reality bit into him, and he snapped, “I don’t want to talk about it.” 

“Whoa,” Brady said in warning. 

Matthew leaned forward, putting his head in his hands. The possibility of her was still buzzing on his skin. 

The future was being ripped out of his grasp. How could so much hope be dashed so quickly? So completely? He'd been making plans in his head. Immediately, where they were going to spend the night if she was willing. Beyond that, how he would see her whenever he was in New York, and beyond that? Hopefully something that ended up with them together. 

“Oh no,” Taryn whispered, her hands coming up to cover her mouth. “You didn’t get her number did you?” 

He shook his head. 

“Oh, Matthew,” Taryn said, laying a hand on his back, “I’m sorry.” 

The rest of the night, he lay in Brady’s guest bedroom, Taryn in the bed next to his, and tried to relax. It wasn’t working. He could still feel the phantom of her grinding up against him, and if he thought about it too much, he got hard. 

Opening Instagram, he typed “Jessie” into the search. There were pages and pages of results. He scrolled through, hoping he might see her face. When the photos started to blur together, he clicked off the app. 

Feeling hopeless, he pressed the heels of his hands into his eyes. Jessie’s face was etched on the inside of his eyelids. He saw her smiling, heard her laugh ringing in his ears, felt her lips so perfectly fitted between his own. They should have been tangled up in bed together. The actuality of his loneliness was a slap in the face every time he turned over. 

It was after four when he finally fell asleep.

He woke sometime around 10am when Taryn sat by his feet. 

“Mom wants to know why you’re still in bed,” she said when he sat up, rubbing his hands over his face. “I told her you were hungover.” 

“Thanks,” he said dryly.  

“Listen, I heard you last night.” 

His hands dropped and he gave her a suspicious look. “And what did you hear last night?” 

She took a deep breath. “I heard you crying.” 

A groan fell out of his mouth as his head tipped back. He didn’t even try to deny it. It hadn’t lasted long, the crying, but he hadn’t been able to stop it for a few minutes. He was sure Taryn heard his sniffling. 

“Is this about that girl?” 

“Listen, Taryn, I don’t want to -” 

She cut in, “Matthew, I saw the way you looked after you kissed her. It’s the same way Brady looks at Emma.”

Shit. He was in deeper than he thought. And they hadn’t even slept together yet. He didn’t even know her last name. If he knew her last name, he’d be able to find her. 

Letting his hands fall in his lap, he slouched over, and let the reality of what happened wash over him again. He would get over it eventually, but now? It felt too close to push aside. 

Taryn’s hand came to rest on his knee, “I was thinking, what if she left something at the club? I mean, people must have left coats and things with the fire alarm. We could at least try. See if you can leave your number for her, or something.” 

A spark of hope flickered to life in his chest. “Yeah, that’s a really good idea.” 

Jessie wasn’t too surprised to see the tent in front of the club when they pulled up. The post on their Instagram page said they would be available for people to pick up their belongings all day. Two women were sitting there, bundled up to the hilt. As she got closer, she saw the propane heaters. At least that was something. 

“How can we help you, darlin?” 

“Yeah, I was here last night, and I hoped I could get my coat that I left with the coat check?” 

One of the women stood, “what does it look like?” 

“It’s a black wool trench, and it has sort of wavy lapels,” she demonstrated on herself. “There’s a pair of gray wool tights in the left pocket.” 

She walked over to a rack behind their table.

The Club had seen better days, that was for sure. Some of the glass had been blown out from the heat, and there were charred bricks on the front from where the flames had licked out the windows. 

“Is it condemned?” 

“No, but it’ll take us a while to remodel, especially with the winter,” the other woman said, giving her a smile. 

“Did they find out what caused it?” 

“Not yet, but we’re pretty sure it was some faulty wiring.” 

“Here we go. Is this it?” The other woman, the one with pink hair, turned the coat around. 

Jessie smiled, relieved, “Yes.”

As she reached for the coat, she debated about the next part. What was the harm really? She knew she would be kicking herself all the way home if she didn’t. 

“I know this is a little strange, but I met someone last night, but we were separated before we could exchange numbers, and I wondered if he’d come by?” 

“I’m not sure. We’ve seen quite a few people today.”

“His name was Matthew, and he had curly hair, light eyes, and he was tall.” 

They looked at each other, each shaking their head. “I don’t think we’ve seen anyone like that today.”

She wasn’t sure what she would have done if they had. 

“Do you want to leave a note for him, or something?” 

She chewed on her lip, petting the smoke soaked coat draped over her arm. If he happened to come by, it might work. But what if he didn’t? Or what if some other guy with curly hair came by, and they gave him her note? 

She shouldn’t have even asked. It was fruitless. What did she expect? That he would just walk out of the building: here I am! 

“No,” she said, defeated. “I was just hoping.”

“Well, love has a way of coming back when you least expect it.” 

It felt like such a throw-away thing to say. “Yeah, I hope so,” Jessie said, turning back to her parents' car, parked in the lot.  

Matthew walked up to the women sitting in front of the club. He knew he was used to the Florida warmth by now, and just despised the cold on principle, but sitting out here? In this? They were nuts. 

“Hi, honey,” the older, motherly looking one greeted, “did you leave something here last night?” 

Yeah, my future, he thought. 

“No, I was hoping,” he reached up to scratch the back of his neck nervously. “I mean, I met someone here last night and I was -” 

“Are you Matthew?” the other woman interrupted. 

His eyes shot to hers. “Yeah,” he said, breathless with anticipation. 

“Oh no,” the women looked at each other. One had her hand over her mouth. 

“Someone was just here looking for you.” 

Hope started hammering in his chest. 

“Pretty little thing, lovely red hair.” 

“Yeah,” his heart was running so fast he felt like he might be sick. 

“I’m so sorry honey, we asked her if she wanted to leave a note or something, but she decided not to.” 

Now he really was going to throw up. 

They had been so close. So close to meeting again. Why hadn’t she left a note? Why didn’t he just get her number last night? 

Because he’d planned on asking her for it in the morning. 

“Well, thanks anyway,” he said, hand falling limply at his side. 

“Good luck. I hope she finds her way back to you.” 

“Thanks,” he said, turning back to the car. Taryn was watching with rapt anticipation. He shook his head and her expression fell. 

**Nine Months Later**

For the first time since moving, the bright Florida sunshine didn't make Jessie smile as she got out of bed. That September morning, she woke up to an anxious fluttering in her chest, trying to tell herself it was going to be a day like any other. She would go to the shop and sew that new sculptural blazer for the window. She'd help Raul with his clients and do the same things she’d been doing every other work day for the past three months. 

It didn’t matter that some of the Florida professional hockey team were coming in for suits for the new season. She’d already checked, and there wasn’t a Matthew on the books. 

Even if he did show up, he had probably moved on. It was just her romantic streak that kept him alive in her memory. 

After a few miserable, sulky hours on New Year's Day, Roger had finally suggested she look him up. 

“I don’t know his last name, Roge.” 

“Didn’t you say he plays hockey in Florida?” he’d asked, pulling out his phone. He found a roster for her to look through - all men in blue, none of them Matthew. There wasn’t even a Matthew on the team. 

“I think it’s hopeless,” she said. 

“Hold on, there’s another one.”

“Another what?” 

“Another team.” 

“Here, I think this is him?” he turned the phone around and Matthew was staring at her, a smug little smile on his face. 

Her breath caught in her throat. His eyes were blue. And his hair was a dark blonde, with almost a gingery tone to it. 

“Matthew Tkachuk?” she asked, trying to pronounce all the letters. It came out a bit of a garbled mess. 

“Look him up on Insta.” 

So she had. She found him easily. He was verified with over 150 thousand followers. 

She messaged him, hoping. 

Hey this is Jessie from last night before the fire stole our thunder. 

He’d never even seen her message. She had checked every day for a while, then every couple of weeks until she'd all but forgotten about it, moving on with her life. 

Pulling out her phone now, she scrolled down to the thread. The date was still staring at her, no read notifications in sight. 

Matthew wasn't even all that great. That’s what she told herself every time she went on another failed date with some guy so boring she wanted to just drop off the chair and fall asleep on the bar floor. If she let herself believe he really was as charming and interested and built just for her as he’d seemed, she would never go on another set up or app date again. It had been the alcohol and the rush of the new year that had painted him in such rosy light. It was likely he was just another boring dude like all the rest. 

The pink lace she put on under her clothes before going to work was for her, and she wasn’t hoping anyone would get to see it. 

She absorbed herself with structuring the new women’s blazer all morning until the appointment at 2. 

Matthew wasn’t entirely certain why he’d agreed to go with Benny that afternoon. He already had a suit guy in St. Louis. He didn’t need another one. But Sam was persuasive, a few other guys were going, and Matthew was always looking for something new. When you have to wear the same item of clothing over and over again, might as well make it something interesting. 

Walking into the little shop, he could see why Sam liked it. There were racks and racks of interesting fabrics. Subtle and bold patterns and solid colors he never would have considered for a suit before. 

As the other guys got to browsing, Matthew wandered over to the wall of photos. In every one, a short, dark haired man was posing with various people in beautiful suits. Sam was up there as were Barky and Bob. He didn’t know they came here too. Apparently, this was the place to be. 

Something rustled in the back, and he turned. Nothing was there, but a glass cabinet that housed a display of cufflinks. 

“Matthew?” 

His head shot up. 

A pretty young woman who wasn't in any of the photos was standing in the doorway behind the display case, holding up the heavy velvet curtain. He could see a row of sewing machines under her arm. She had on a blue skirt and a green blouse. A fabric flower was attached to her wrist, a porcupine of pins sticking out of it. 

His breath locked in his chest. She was here. In Florida. She was in front of him. The girl from the New Years Eve party he couldn’t quite convince himself to let go of for half a season and the whole summer. 

Her hair was shorter than it had been - ending at her collar bone - and a dark auburn red. He supposed it had probably always been that color. She had creamy pale skin with a dusting of freckles across her nose, and shit, had her eyes always been that green? 

He’d never seen her out of that harsh club lighting, he realized. Of course she would be prettier in the daylight. 

The murmuring behind him hushed into silence, and his mind went completely blank, as if he’d never had a thought in his life. 

“Hey,” he heard himself say. The shock of seeing her was so intense, he couldn’t remember her name. He’d just been thinking about her last week after another failed third date.

Sam shot him a questioning look.  

He was in shock. He was overwhelmed. He was… he was… he was acting like an idiot. 

His heart thundered in his ears. She was looking at him like she was trying to figure out if he remembered who she was. 

“Jessie,” she said hesitantly, pointing to her chest. “From New Years?”

Didn’t he remember? His face was branded into her memory. The dream of him - of them - roared to life in her chest unbidden. Her body reacted instantly, as if no time had passed. 

Right. Jessie, Jessie, Jessie, he thought.

Cool. He needed to play this cool. “Oh, hey,” he said. “How’ve you been?” 

As soon as it was out of his mouth, he knew it was the wrong thing to say. Hope fell right off her face. He saw the moment it happened, and it sliced through him like a knife to the gut. 

Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

She wasn’t some old acquaintance he hadn’t seen in a while. She was the girl he kept coming back to. The one he thought about after failed dates or that relationship that started at the beginning of the summer only to fizzle out six weeks later. She was his, it might have been, girl.

The man walked in then, forcing her into the shop. “Ah, I see you have met Jessica. She just graduated from FIT in New York,” he bragged, “and is helping us expand into womens suiting. She’s also a marvelous tailor, so she’ll be helping with the suits as well. Jessica, these are the clients I was telling you about. From the ice hockey team. Good clients. They like interesting things.” 

She painted a smile on her face that almost looked convincing. “I can’t wait to help.” 

“You,” Raul said, “I don't know you.”

“Matthew,” he said, holding a hand out to the older Italian man. “Sam said you make the best suits on the eastern seaboard.”

Raul pulled out the leather bound book that served as his ledger, and flipped to the section Jessie had been looking at that morning, simply marked, Hockey.

“Last name?” he asked. 

He spelled it out, then pronounced it, “Tkachuk. The T is silent.” 

Raul nodded, noting the silent letter next to his name. 

“Jessica and I will take your measurements,” he said, gesturing him over to the plinth near the mirrors surrounded by dark wood. 

Jessie picked up a notebook and followed Raul. Matthew had definitely recognised her, he’d been shocked by her appearance, even. Then he treated her like…like a one night stand or an acquaintance he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to reunite with. It hurt more than it should have to have the things she was telling herself come true. 

She had hoped Raul would let her help the other clients, but luck seemed to be against her. At least he hadn’t handed her the tape. She didn’t know what she would have done if  her hands brushed against Matthew’s body. She already felt on edge just being in the same room as him. 

“Very important to get the thigh measurement with these hockey players,” Raul was saying as he threaded a measuring tape around Matthews upper thigh. “Big legs.” 

“It’s from all the skating,” Matthew said, almost out of habit. 

Jessie was doing a very good job of not looking at him. She had a little notebook in her hands and she kept her eyes trained on it as she wrote down every body part and corresponding number Raul called out. Upper thigh, lower thigh, calf, hip to knee, knee to ankle. Matthew had been measured like this before, so he just stood still and let the man do his work. 

“So, Jessie, right?” Josh asked, leaning onto one of the mirrors, nearby where she was standing, not quite in Matthew’s peripheral vision. 

She hummed in agreement. Raul was still calling out numbers to her, and she couldn’t divide her focus that well. 

“What brought you all the way down to Florida from New York?” 

Matthew clenched his jaw to keep from telling Josh off. As much as he wanted it, he didn’t have any claim over Jessie.

“Um,” she said, still jotting numbers. She spared a glance at him. He had long, unruly, dark hair, dark eyes, and a goofy smile. She smiled back, “can you give me just a minute to finish up here?” she asked, pointing at Matthew’s stomach with the cap of her pen. 

Josh blushed, “yeah, of course.” 

She went back to her notebook, face impassive once more. 

Josh stayed where he was. 

“So Chucky, what do you think about the schedule this year?” 

Matthew shrugged, then snapped himself back into place at Rauls reprimand. “Sorry,” he mumbled. 

Jessie gagged internally. hoping that wasn’t really his nickname. Chucky was either a possessed doll, or a possessed rat mascot, neither of which she liked to think about for very long. 

They continued to talk about something with their team. When she and Raul finished, she handed the notebook off to him, which he would transcribe into the ledger. He still didn’t trust her to do it the way he liked. 

Matthew didn’t move off the plinth, but she turned to the other man, “sorry, what was your question?” 

She sounded so polite, so formal. Sure, they’d only met that one night, but she hadn’t been guarded like this at that club in Ottawa. He supposed that was probably his fault. God, why was he such an idiot?

“I wondered what brought you to Florida. It’s a long way from New York.” 

“Oh, the heat,” she said. “I was so tired of the north-east cold.”

“And you know Raul…”

“He and one of my mentors are great friends, and he got us in touch. I have some family down here, and wanted to live somewhere warm for a change. Raul wanted to expand into some womenswear, and tailoring happens to be one of my specialties.” She said it without much emotion. Just stating the facts. “We met, I made him and myself a suit to audition, and here we are.” 

Matthew opened his mouth to say something about how he was glad she was here, but she walked away before he could force the words out. 

Josh gave him a look that said something like, women, right? 

Matthew walked away before he said something stupid.

“While I update the rest of your measurements, Jessica can help you with fabrics. She’s excellent with color. Jessica, why don’t you get the samples and help them pick out what they need.” 

She nodded, went into the back and came out with five big binders. She set them on the table, and flipped some of them open. 

She helped Reino pick out a dark teal, a blue and a few subtle plaids before moving on to someone else. 

Matthew was the last at the table. 

“What are you looking for?” she asked, trying to keep her voice and demeanor level. No need to let him know how her heart still pounded just looking at him when it was so obvious he didn’t care about her. 

“I'm always looking for something interesting,” he said. “What would you suggest?” 

Her eyes darted up to his face. His eyes were so blue - much more intense in person. He had the kind of eyes poets say hold summer skies and glacial lakes. It was the first time she really saw them, and they took her breath away. 

“Well,” she forced herself back to work, “you could pull off almost anything with your coloring. How adventurous are you?” 

“I’m willing to try anything once,” he said, trying to sound flirtatious. It just came off desperate. 

She chewed on the inside of her lip. “How many suits are you looking for?” 

“Eight,” he said. 

He didn’t need eight suits. But if it kept him at this table for longer, he would buy as many as she would sell him. 

“All for here?” 

“For here?”

“To be worn here, in Florida? The others have mentioned needing some for travel.”

“Oh, I’ll need three or four for travel, three at least for the cold.” 

They talked through colors. She opened a binder she hadn’t given anyone else. None of the other guys were as handsome, or seemed as adventurous with their style as Matthew. 

“If you’re brave enough, I think this lilac would look really good on you,” she said, pulling the pastel fabric sample off the board and holding it up. He was more bronze than he had been when they’d met, but it would still look good when his summer tan faded. 

“Okay,” he said. He trusted her style. He’d never worn lilac, but if she thought it would look good, he’d give it a shot.

Jessie got the feeling he was just agreeing with her to get this whole thing over with. Still, she couldn’t help pulling the best fabrics for him, even an expensive light blue linen blend that would make him look like Brad Pitt in Santorini. He didn't balk when she mentioned the price. He didn't even seem to notice. 

“Chucky, how did you know Jessie?” Bennet said as they walked down the block to the public parking they’d all met at. 

“A party,” he said, trying to sound non-committal. 

People got into their cars, but before Matthew could leave, Benny came up to his driver's window. “You wanna tell us what’s going on?” 

“You’re never this quiet,” Reino said from his place on Benny’s left. 

Matthew sighed and got out of the car. This was going to take a while. Sam had always been a bit of a brother to him and he knew he wouldn’t let him go without an explanation. 

“Jessie and I met last New Years Eve,” he said, crossing his arms over his chest and leaning against the hood of his car. 

“Okay, and what did you do? Hookup and never call her again?” 

“No!” He sounded too defensive, even to his own ears. 

Reino raised an eyebrow, “so what happened?” 

His hands raked into his hair so he didn't have to look at them as he told the story. “We met at this club in Ottawa, and we had this amazing connection. I've never felt anything like it before. Like, boom: Instant chemistry.” It felt even worse to say it out loud. 

Both guys just waited. 

“But the club caught fire.” 

“Wait, what?” Benny asked. “Really?”

“I know, man,” Matthew said, throwing his hands up, “and I thought I had her number, so I left her to find Taryn, but I didn’t, and I couldn't find her after. I didn’t think I was ever going to see her again, and then, all of a sudden she was here,” he gestured in the direction of the shop, “and I just…” 

“Fucked it?” Benny asked. 

“Yeah.” 

“So go back and talk to her,” Reino said, like it was the easiest thing in the world. 

He scoffed. “What would I say? ‘Hey, sorry I completely forgot your name and treated you like our connection didn't matter, but I actually haven’t been able to stop thinking about you for the past nine months?’” 

“Better than not saying anything,” Benny said. 

Matthew shook his head, “I can’t go back in there.” 

“Why not?” 

“You didn’t see her face. There’s no way she wants to talk to me.” 

A few weeks later, Jessie was piecing Matthew’s jacket from the blue linen in the back of the shop. The fabric was so light and delicate, she couldn’t even have music going while working with it. One wrong move and there would be pulled threads all over the place. She knew Raul would disapprove, but she gave herself twice the seam allowance to make sure she could finish the inside raw edges. Otherwise the fabric would start to pull apart - eventually, quite literally, fraying at the seams. 

“Uh, hello?” someone asked. 

She jumped and dropped the scissors. She let them clatter to the floor with a curse. She’d been so focused on the task at hand, she hadn’t heard the bell ring. 

“One second,” she called, before securing her pattern with an extra pin, picking up the scissors and coming out to the sales floor. 

“Hi, sorry about that. I got kind of in the zone. What can I do for you?” 

It was one of the hockey guys. The one with strawberry hair. She couldn’t help but glance around him to see if he’d brought anyone with him. 

She shouldn’t even be looking for Matthew, especially considering he'd ignored all of her phone calls about his suiting. All the same, seeing him again had awoken her longing in a way she couldn’t quite tamp down. 

“Raul said I had some suits he wanted me to try on,” he said. 

She asked his name, then went to the back to retrieve the garment bag. She remembered this one. She’d convinced him an oxblood red wouldn’t look too harsh with his coloring, and she was hoping he would like the results. 

Giving him a pair of pants, she left him in the changing room while she cut extra threads on the inside of the jacket.

Immediately, she could see the pants were a smidge too loose. They talked about his preferred fit, and he avoided looking at her as she pinned the inner thigh. All men reacted this way, but to Jessie, this was all about the garment. As far as she was concerned, he was a mannequin under these clothes. 

Finally, the questions that had been ruminating in her mind got the best of her. “So, did Matthew get traded or something?” 

“Chucky?” he asked, surprised.  

“I guess so.” 

“No,” he was laughing as he said it, “he has seven more years on his contract.”

“Oh.” 

“Why?” 

“I’ve just called him a few times about measurements, or fittings, and he’s never called back or come in.”

“Really? He told me he was here yesterday.” 

Of course he was coming in on her day off. Why had she even told him that in the message?

She stood up, and moved onto the jacket after asking him if he ever planned to wear it with a sweater. He wasn’t sure. Or if she should shorten the sleeves. He liked them a little longer. 

“Chucky told us what happened in Ottawa,” he said. 

Jessie felt her shoulders tense, but kept working. “Yeah?” she asked, not daring to look up. All this still felt too close to the surface, and she didn’t want this man she barely knew to know how much it had hurt when Matthew brushed her aside. 

“Yeah, he said he looked for you after the fire.” 

“I tried to stay, but my cousins and I were soaking wet and it was below freezing so we had to catch the train.” 

“He said he went back the next day and you’d been there, but didn’t leave a note.” 

That made Jessie gasp. Audibly. She blushed and tried to brush it off, “I was worried it might go to the wrong person,” she said, “plus I messaged him on Instagram and he never responded.” 

He hummed, debating the best way to approach this. He wanted to do some digging without letting on that’s what he was doing. “He said you guys had quite the connection.” 

Was she really going to go into this with one of his teammates? She hadn’t talked to anyone about it but Roger. Words bubbled up into her mouth so fast, she guessed she was. 

“Yeah, we did.” God, why did she have to sound so moony?

“Do you think there’s still something there?” 

“He made it pretty obvious there’s not.” 

“I don’t think he meant to do that. He was pretty shocked to see you.”

“I was shocked to see him too, but I didn’t just brush him aside.” 

“Listen, Jessie - it’s Jessie, right?”

She nodded.

“Matthew can be pretty thick. He gets so in his head, sometimes he doesn’t really think things through, but he told us what happened, and how much he liked you, and he said he fucked it and you wouldn’t want to see him again.”

She hummed, and got him a new suit to try on. She’d been right. The oxblood did look killer on him, like he could be in a GQ shoot. He looked impressed. 

“Would you want to see him again?” Sam asked. 

“If he came in here himself?”

He nodded. 

“I’d at least give him a chance.” 

Even though she would usually just move on, she’d never felt anything like the instant connection she and Matthew shared on New Years. It was the kind of thing she thought only existed in books and rom coms. Experiencing it in real life made it into something she couldn’t just walk away from.  

They talked about where they were from and made comfortable small talk for the duration of the fitting. She told him how relieved she was when Raul trusted her enough to run the shop by herself one day a week. 

“Listen, I’ll tell Chucky to come by next Wednesday. We’re leaving for the opening roadie that day, but I’ll try to get his head out of his ass before then.” 

She giggled. 

He could see why Matthew liked her, and could see how their personalities would match up well. She was kind and easy to talk to - quiet at first, but got louder as she got comfortable, and Chucky was just loud all the time. He could tell they both valued relationships more than things. 

The next week, after their final practice before the season opening road trip, Benny cornered Matthew in his stall. “You need to go see Jessie.”

“She doesn't want to talk to me, man.”

“The way she asked me about you last week would say otherwise.”

He scoffed. 

“I told her you still like her -”

“You what?!”

“She brought you up first, and you weren't doing shit, so don’t tell me I'm ruining your plans or some bull. She said she's called you a bunch of times, but you only show up when she's not there.”

“It's just easier,” Matthew mumbled. It wasn't his fault she told him when she'd be gone.

Benny rolled his eyes. “Dude, wake up. She still likes you.” 

Matthew looked at him, skeptical, “she told you that?” 

“Yes, but she didn’t need to. The first thing she asked me was if you’d been traded. We weren’t even talking about you.”

 A ridiculous amount of hope lit up his face.

“I knew it! You still like her too!”

What’s not to like? Matthew thought.

“She runs the shop on Wednesdays. Just go talk to her.”

“How do you know?”

“Because I went there last Wednesday, dumbass. She told me.” 

Matthew hesitated, still unconvinced. 

“Go. Now. I’ll drive you myself if I have to. I’m sick and tired of you moping around when there’s such an easy solution to your problem.”

“Okay, okay. I’m going,” Matthew said, holding his hands up in defeat. 

“And check your instagram. She said she sent you a message.” 

Usually when she walked onto the sales floor after the doorbell dinged, Jessie would have to search for someone among the racks of fabric samples and ready to be tailored suits. This time, a man was standing at the counter, watching her with the same determined intensity he’d shown the first time they met.

He was here. Finally. Four of his suits had been sitting in the storage room for more than a week, further proof that he was avoiding her. 

“Hi Matthew,” she greeted hesitantly. 

“Hey Jessie.”

They looked at each other in awkward silence for a moment. 

“Can I help you with something?” 

“Yeah, Raul told me some of the suits were ready?”

“They are.”

“I just came to pick those up.” 

“Oh,” the tiny spark of hope fizzled out again. Sam must not have made it through to him. 

She looked instantly downcast. 

To hell with it. He couldn't make any more of an ass of himself. “And I wanted to see you,” he blurted.

“You wanted to see…me?” she repeated, pulling a pen from her ponytail to start fiddling with it. He didn’t know why, but it struck him as such an endearing gesture. 

“Yeah,” he said, heart falling. Was Sam setting him up? He was a prankster, but not to this level, usually. Not when it was this important. 

“Why would you want to see me?” she asked, feeling that guard go up. Every time she got her hopes up about Matthew, he tore them down.

Thoughts raced through his mind. He could lie so easily, but where would that get him? It was time to just own up and blurt it out. Her reaction be damned. “Because I really like you.”

She looked surprised. Way more surprised than he’d expected. “I thought you didn’t remember.”

“How could I forget?” he asked. “I thought you must hate me since I forgot your name and acted like such an ass that first day.”

Shaking her head, Jessie wondered how on earth they got into this situation. “I mean, I was disappointed, but then, you backed it up by never coming to the shop when I was working, I thought you must be trying to avoid me.”

“I was.”

One of her eyebrows shot up.

“Not like that,” he floundered. “Like, I couldn’t stand to see you and remember how well we got on, and how much I like you, and how pretty you are when I knew I'd blown my chance and you hated me.”

She let out a laugh. “That makes no sense. What did I ever do to make you think I hated you? I called you every time something was finished, or we needed a new measurement. I gave you the best fabric selections.”

Had that been because she liked him? “I don’t know, it did in my brain. I guess I was so embarrassed I forgot your name when I like you so much, I was telling myself you must be angry with me.”

Jessie rolled her eyes. “You know, Matthew, for someone so smart, you can be pretty dumb.” 

“You think I’m smart?” He’d been called many things in his life, but smart was rarely one of them. 

“Yes. I think you’re very smart, except when it comes to romance, I guess.” 

He chuffed a laugh, grabbing the back of his neck. “I really fucked this one up, didn’t I?” 

“I don’t know,” she said, trying to be cool and hoping against hope that this last shot would land on target. If it didn’t, she was kicking him out and scrubbing him from all her memories. “I think you might still have a chance.” 

His eyes snapped to hers. “Yeah?” 

She nodded. 

Heart pounding, but trying to keep that flirty, cool skin on, he walked around the counter to remove the barrier between them. 

Knowing he still liked her brought all those feelings from the club rushing back. She’d never felt like that with anyone else. If only he knew how many times she’d replayed that night. How many times she remembered how he felt and how no one had ever kissed her like that, or swept her off her feet so quickly.

“Play your cards right,” she said, feeling breathless with the nearness of him. “And I think you might get another chance at bat.”

As he leaned in closer, her pupils dilated, and her eyes darted to his mouth. He licked his lips just to see her force her eyes back to his like last time. Her blush was even more adorable in the daylight.

“If I swing, what are my odds of getting a home run?” 

She laughed. It didn’t break the spell. It turned out that palpable chemistry was still between them, just waiting to be ignited. Their eye contact was hot and glued together.

“Maybe not today,” she said, “but I think it’s a safe bet that you’ll get on base.” 

Time moved in slow motion as he leaned in further, looking at her mouth, then her neck, then her cleavage, barely visible through the two undone buttons of her starched, white shirt, before snapping back to hers as she stopped him with a hand pressed tightly to his chest.  

“We can’t do this here. There are cameras on the floor,” she said. 

His head dropped forward in defeat. “I have to leave for Vegas in two hours,” he said, feeling more than a bit desperate. “I really don’t want to wait until I’m back.” 

“I don’t want to either, but I’m telling you, if Raul catches me making out with a client, I’m going to be out on my ass.” 

“So what do we do?”

She thought for a moment before an idea struck her. “Follow me.” 

She made a big show of walking into the back, digging his new lilac suit out of the garment bag and hanging it in the private dressing room. “You go in there. When I come back and ask you how it’s fitting, you need to tell me something needs to be adjusted and invite me in, okay?” 

“Right. Yeah, okay.” 

She put out the sign that said she would return soon and locked the front door. It wasn’t that unusual to lock up when they were helping a high profile client, anyway. Plus, Wednesdays were always the slowest day of the week, hence why she was allowed to man the shop alone. She just hoped Raul wouldn’t have any reason to review the tapes. 

Her whole chest felt like it was full of helium as she walked back to him. Were they really about to do this? 

“Everything going okay in there?” she asked. 

“Something’s wrong with this suit jacket,” he said. “Can you come take a look?” 

Upon entering, she found Matthew with his shirt already off.

Sweet Jesus, she was not prepared for that. For his sculpted body, and his chest hair, that tapered into a thin trail running down the center of his abs before it dipped enticingly into the waistband of his pants. 

“That’s not fair,” she said. 

“What’s not fair?” he reached for her and drew her to him, hands splaying over her waist.

“You’re already half naked,” she said, eyes wandering down his chest again. 

“You could be too,” he teased, playfully pulling at the shirt tucked into her waistband. He didn’t actually pull any of the fabric loose, which she appreciated. He was letting her set the pace.

“Damn, Jessie. You’re the only woman I know who can make a pant suit look sexy.” 

She laughed, and pulled the whole shirt over her head, leaving her in a white camisole, a black lace bra peeking out from underneath it. 

“Do you always wear black lingerie to work?” he asked, voice gone husky as he ran a finger under one of the straps. 

“Only when I think you might come in.” 

His eyes snapped to hers, thrilled but questioning. 

“Sam told me he was going to try to get you to come by today.”

“So this really is for me?” he felt dizzy with the prospect.

“No. It’s for me. I put it on this morning, thinking that at the very least if you came in and you were an ass again, you wouldn’t get the satisfaction of seeing how hot I look in my bra,” she said, before stripping off the camisole so he could see exactly how hot she looked in her bra. 

Seeing her, in black suit pants, a gold belt buckle flashing at her waist, and her sheer, floral lace bra that plunged between her breasts, the breath was sucked out of his lungs. 

His ongoing ache for her intensified, pressing insistently against the confines of his jeans. 

He stepped toward her when she once again stopped his progress with a hand to the chest. “I really like you, Matthew,” she said, swooning a little at the happiness that lit up his face, “but I was serious. I don't want to have sex.” 

“Can you define that a little more?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Like you don't want oral sex, or…” 

She wouldn't have guessed oral sex would even be on the table. She practically had to beg past boyfriends for it. 

“I mean I don't want to have penetrative sex. The first time with someone new is hard enough. I don't want to make it more complicated by taking a bed out of the equation.” 

“I get that. Plus, it'll give me something to look forward to when I get back,” he said with a grin and a cheeky wink. 

God, maybe they really were made for each other. 

As his left hand slipped to the back of her neck, the other spread over her rib cage, thumb brushing against the soft lace that cupped her breast. 

She sucked in a breath, letting her hand ghost up his torso over the ridges and valleys, until her fingers hooked over his shoulder. The other slid around to his back.

It felt like it had been a million years since they’d last done this. Not the touching, not the skin to skin, which felt like…it felt like heaven, but the longing. 

Jessie was looking at him with that same hope and lust in her eyes. It made his stomach twist with that same wanting to fulfill them both. 

It was so long coming, he wanted to savor every movement, every breath, every glance. Her eyes were so green. Somehow even more green up close. 

Finally, when their lips met, she sighed, melting against him. 

This was all together more intense and less hurried than their first kiss had been. It was a slow burn, a thorough seduction, a fulfillment of everything Matthew had been dreaming of that night they lost each other. 

When he pulled away, their heavy breaths crashed together. 

Fingertips sliding up her back, he tried to memorize the feel of her. Her skin was so soft. 

Jessie was growing impatient. Any other moment, she would love this slow seduction. Most of the time she felt like men moved too fast. Today though, she had so much sexual frustration built up for him that the weight of desire was already heavy between her legs. 

Taking matters into her own hands, she leaned in and trailed her mouth along his jaw before nipping the soft spot behind it, just under his ear. He shuddered when she soothed it with her tongue. 

“I’ve been dreaming of this for so long,” she confessed, barely above a whisper.

That snapped him into action. Taking her waist, he pulled her flush to him, and crushed his mouth to hers. 

There was the passion she’d been looking for. 

As they surged together, she felt so restless and turned on, she tried to hook a knee over his hip in an attempt to slot him between her legs. 

Groaning against her, his hand slid over her rear and down her leg to keep it elevated and wrapped around him. 

Kissing her was so much better than he remembered. How was that possible? She was so good in his dreams. In reality, she was living - flesh and bone and wanting - and he couldn’t get enough. 

Moving to her neck, he sucked her pulse point. He felt her tremble against him, but her hand still came up to pull him back to her mouth. “Nothing visible, okay? I have to go back to work.” 

He nodded and caught her lips. It might be too late for that one, but he wouldn’t do it again. 

Her desire was a wildfire, consuming every part of her. It wanted to consume him, too. 

When she tucked two of her fingers behind the button of his jeans, a moan fell into her mouth. 

“Okay?”

“Yeah.” 

She tore the zipper down, and palmed him through his boxers. His hips jumped into her hand as a moan ripped from his throat.

His fingers fumbled to her belt buckle and paused. 

“Please,” she whimpered. 

He was clumsy with desperation and the distraction of her kissing and biting his neck, but he finally got it open and her pants undone. 

The weight of the buckle sunk the waistband to the floor with a heavy clink, and Jessie stepped out of it, kicking off her shoes at the same time. Sinking her hand into his pants, she shoved them down his muscular legs. 

He nearly fell over in his attempt to get out of his shoes so he could free himself from the shackle of the fabric around his ankles. 

Jessie giggled, and moved with him as he stepped away. He finally got his first look at her in her underwear. Made of some fabric he couldn’t name, they were also black and cut high on her hip. He could see it was a thong in the mirrored wall behind her. 

His jaw grew heavy with longing, but managed to make his mouth work enough to tell her, “you’re so beautiful, Jessie.”

“Thank you. I think you’re really handsome.” she said, running a hand down his chest. And he was - he could be a living sculpture in the Greek wing of the Louvre with his curly hair and sculpted body. 

Sliding his hands over her hips, he pulled her to him once more. He hesitated for a moment, and Jessie took charge, too impatient to wait. “Matthew?” 

“Hmm?” 

“I really appreciate you getting my consent, I really, really do, but you can just move forward. I’ll tell you if I don’t like something.” 

“Okay.” 

She captured his mouth again and the fire roared to life between them, stoked hotter by so much skin touching skin. 

Sneaking his fingers into the waistband of her panties, he pushed them down, trusting that she would stop him if she wanted to.

She didn’t want him to. 

His fingers traced back up her leg and when he stroked her, she broke from the kiss to let her head lull forward onto his shoulder. Her panting breaths were the stuff of his dreams. She was already so wet, and he wanted nothing more than to bring her pleasure. 

“Oh,” she moaned when he explored more, running a couple of rough fingers from her entrance to her throbbing bundle of nerves. She rocked into his hand, and he took the hint, caressing her over and over again until she was trembling and moaning. 

“Matthew,” her voice was wrecked: desperate and thick with longing. 

“What do you need?” 

“Your fingers,” she begged, “inside me.” 

He obeyed, following the rhythm she set. Pressing the pad of his thumb to her clit, a wicked, self satisfied smile took over his face as her head tipped back, and her breath hitched. 

“Oh,” she moaned, “just like that.” Her hands slid to his arms, clinging to his biceps. 

He wanted to eat her pleasure for breakfast - sustain himself with it on long, lonely nights. He knew he would dream of her voice and all her little sounds through the whole ten days away, anxious to come back to the very actual reality of her. He kept having to remind himself this wasn’t a dream.

He rutted against her thigh in an attempt to pacify some of his own lust. 

Body shaking, she cried out. 

Matthew continued to stroke and leaned in, kissing her right through her orgasm.

Feeling her core pulse around him again and again, the release was so long coming, it seemed to go on forever.

As her breathing finally slowed, he eased his fingers from her. 

“Oh my god,” she said, still clutching him to stay upright. “I’m so pissed we had to wait nine months for this.” 

Laughter barked out of his mouth.

When she could make her hands work, Jessie pulled his hard, hot length from his boxers, and stroked a few times. 

His mouth fell open, and he panted, “it’s bullshit, right?”

“Such bullshit,” she agreed, devouring the pleasure that washed over his face.

“Wait,” he said, grasping her wrist. “I want this to last.” 

“You already got me off,” she said. “What do you need to wait for?” 

“I'm not going until you've come at least twice. What's the point of women being able to have multiple orgasms if I can't give them to you?”

That was some flawed logic, but she allowed him to pull her hand away. She wasn’t going to say no.

“Can I taste you?” 

“If you want,” she said hesitantly, as if he might be pulling some kind of prank. She'd never had a man offer to go down on her first.

“I do want,” he said, guiding her to lean against the mirrored wall and sinking to his knees. “I've been wondering how you taste since we met.”

Maybe that oral fixation all the girls talked about online was actually true.

“Can you put your leg up here?” he asked, sliding a gentle hand to the back of her knee, and lifting so the joint bent around his palm. He guided her foot to the stool. 

When he looked up at her, his blue eyes shining with excitement, she retraced their steps to get there. Not even ten minutes before would she have expected to end up with Matthew Tkachuk eating her out in the back dressing room. 

“That feels okay?” he confirmed, palm stroking back up her thigh.

God, he was even making sure she was comfortable. Her whole body fluttered in anticipation. “Yeah,” she breathed. 

Every other time a man had given her oral, they were fast and sloppy, obviously trying to get it over with as soon as possible. With Matthew, he seemed to be dragging it out for his own pleasure, tasting and teasing like he just couldn’t get enough. He was driving her crazy - winding her tighter and tighter. 

“Matthew,” she moaned. It was better than any of his dreams. Better than any fantasy. “More. Please. More.” 

She felt his lips briefly curve into a smile against her before he really got to work. Licking with the whole flat of his tongue, then flicking with the tip, he was suddenly everywhere. 

Her hand scrambled for purchase on the wall behind her. Met only with the slick mirror, her fingers fumbled into his hair, searching for anything to hold on to. 

He groaned into her, almost as if in pain.

“O-okay?” she asked, voice shaking as she attempted to loosen her grip.

When she felt his response but couldn't hear it, it took all her willpower to push him away. She was not going to hurt him, especially when he had been so insistent on her consent. She could feel his hard breathing rushing over her and it set her skin to trembling. 

“Okay?” she asked again. 

“Good,” he assured, eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I'll let you know if you pull too hard,” he said with a wink before diving back in. 

Her head thunked back against the mirror. He really was made for her, that was the only explanation. 

 God, she was perfect. She tasted like paradise, like water in the desert, like his favorite meal after a long period of fasting. She satiated his every craving. 

His competitive drive growled into a higher gear, demanding to please her until she whimpered and begged. He licked and sucked and spelled his own name with his tongue, gauging where she liked to be touched most. 

“Matthew,” she moaned. “Oh my god, Matthew.”

Pleasure began to tingle low in her pelvis. It loosened her hips and turned her legs to putty. She'd never had a man take this much interest, let alone put so much effort into her pleasure. She moaned something unintelligible, even to her own ears.

He slipped a finger into her, and she cried out. Her hand tightened in his hair when he added another. 

A whimper on every exhale, she panted, trying to keep some semblance of control. It shattered when he gently kneaded her g spot. 

Pleasure thundered low in her belly, and she was forced over the cliff, glad to know Matthew would be there to catch her fall. Her vision turned hazy as she crashed. Time and space exploded into nothing more than shadowy constructs. She heard herself shout as if listening from another room.

When she came back to herself, Matthew was still languidly tasting her folds, one of his forearms braced over her hips to keep her upright. 

Pushing him away from her core, she tried to catch her breath. 

As he sat back, he wiped his face with his free hand. The satisfaction of pleasing her rumbled contentedly in his chest. 

“Don’t take this the wrong way, but I think I fucking love you.” 

He laughed, a look of delighted surprise on his face.

The reality of what she'd just said hit her and Jessie covered her face with her hands, “oh my god. I can't believe I just said that out loud.”

“That might be the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me during sex.” 

Relief sunk into her bones. Soul mates. They had to be soul mates. 

A few moments later, she finally found her feet and pushed away from the mirror.

“Alright,” she said, reaching for him and wrapping her fingers around his erection. He stumbled toward her, anxious to feel more. 

She smoothed the precome leaking from the tip onto the shaft with her thumb. “I think it's my turn to taste now.” 

Matthew wasn't entirely sure what he'd expected her to do, but lowering to her knees in front of him right away hadn't been at the top of the list. He expected her to jerk him off for a minute, maybe kiss and tease him a little. Not that he was complaining. If she was willing, he'd gladly accept. 

“Do you like more suction or more mouth?” she asked before licking the underside of his shaft. 

Oh God.

“I dont - I don't care.” He wasn't sure he was even going to last long enough for it to make a difference. He felt so close to the surface already. 

“You don't care?” she repeated, sitting back on her haunches to look up at him. 

With her mouth off of him, he could explain his reasoning a little better. 

“Frankly, I've been dreaming about this for so long, I could almost bust just from seeing you on your knees.” 

She was flattered and also a little relieved she wasn't the only one. 

“Okay,” she said as she reached up to pump him a few times. “Something we'll figure out later.”

The fact that she was thinking about the future, too, made him weak. 

Her lips wrapped around his tip, tongue caressing, and he was right there. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. 

“Jessie,” he moaned, “god that feels good.”

Was it the best blow job ever? Objectively no, but it was Jessie, so it felt more important than any that came before it. He felt like he was fifteen again, getting his first head, amazed by everything and having no restraint. 

“I'm - I'm gonna come,” he moaned, trying to pull back so as not to come in her mouth. 

Jessie would rather have it in her mouth than all over her, so she gripped the backs of his thighs to keep him in place. 

“Oh, fuck.” How could she possibly be this perfect? 

She sucked and caressed and he exploded with a long low groan. 

She kept licking, albeit more gently, until he pulled back, sensitivity making it too much to bear.

“Holy shit,” he said. The room felt muggy and he felt content in a way he'd been longing for since they'd lost each other. 

“Yeah,” she agreed. 

He helped her to her feet, and pulled her against him, wanting to feel her close. 

A while later, her phone, which had fallen out of one of her pants pockets, buzzed and the time flashed. 

“Shit! I have to go,” he said, scrambling for his clothes. “I still have stuff to pack!” 

“When’s your flight?”

“In an hour, but I have to drive home and then to the airport.”

They rushed to get their clothes back on. He hated seeing her bra disappear under the camisole again. 

As soon as he was dressed, he grabbed her jaw and kissed her. Her hands floated from tucking her shirt to cup his face. 

He'd just had her, but the wanting roared back to life as soon as she touched him, as if his body was trying to remind him what was possible between them. Like he could ever forget. 

“This was so amazing. I promise I'll take you on a real date when I'm back, and I'll call you while I’m gone,” he said. “I'm sorry I have to dash out of here.”

He kissed her again, hard and purposefully, before rushing out of the dressing room. 

“Wait!” she chased him onto the sales floor still tucking her shirt, “my number. You need my number.” 

“Oh my god,” he slapped a palm to his forehead. “I can't believe I almost left without it again!”

She giggled, “you're not getting away from me this time.”

They exchanged numbers and Matthew raced home. 

He rushed to pack the last of his things, grateful for the example his dad set, in always having a base bag packed the day before a road trip just in case something came up. 

He was the last one on the plane, a first for him.

“Chucky just got fucked!” someone yelled. 

Matthew felt his cheeks get hot. His hair was probably wild from Jessie's hands, and he could feel the love bite on his neck, a sure sign it would soon be a full blown mark. 

Reino met his eyes and raised a brow. Jessie? he mouthed. 

Matthew nodded. 

He wiped the back of his hand over his brow in mock relief. 

“Oh thank God,” Bennett exclaimed from across the aisle. “I thought I was going to have to lock you two in a room until you got together.”

Matthew laughed. 

When he got settled, he sent Jessie a text. Just on the plane, but I'm missing you already. I'm back on the 14th, so pencil me in for that date. 

I have you in for the weekend. We have a lot of time to make up for. 

Fanciction Masterlist

[phoenixwatchesmovies]

Dracula Season Watch Party: The Lost Boys (1987)

After moving to a new town, two brothers discover that the area is a haven for vampires. - Dir. Joel Schumacher

Let's get one thing straight: this movie isn't. Stick a pin in that because we'll get back to that in due time.

In that case, though, WHERE DO I START? This is a fucking great movie and I'll fight anyone who says otherwise. (I didn't say you have to like it. Quality is objective and personal taste is not. Go forth with that nugget of wisdom.)

Starting at the beginning, then, we get one of the best movie themes ever written (as evidenced by the amount of covers that exist), some of my favorite establishing shots ever filmed, and the character entrance that made me say out loud, "OH SHIT 👀"

YOU SEE WHAT I MEAN. As the top comment on the video says, "you know it's awesome when you click just to watch the opening."

The entire movie is like that, TBH. It's almost as quotable as The Princess Bride Thee Greatest Movie Ever Made, and is matched only by The Shining for scenes I'll just watch on their own because I love them that much. Like this one, for instance, that I'm linking because I'm going to bring it up again later:

^^ the music, the camera, the lighting, the transition from the headlights to the lighthouse... It's so good...

Other great music moments include the "People Are Strange" montage of slice-of-life style clips of folks going about their day in Santa Carla intercut with all the posters of missing people hung up around the boardwalk, "I Still Believe" featuring Tim Cappello, Tina Turner's former saxophone player, "Walk This Way" as the boys close in on the surfers on the beach, and ENDLESS uses of "Cry Little Sister."

Brief moment to talk about the Emerson family dynamic. Script, performances, and direction all work together in all the best ways so you never doubt how much they care about each other, or how far they'll go for each other. You can argue for family being one of the core themes of the story, whether it's the one you're born into or the one you're...well, born in a sense, into. Either way, it's about the bonds you make, be it for a lifetime or an eternity.

Grandpa gets his own bullet for being such an icon, and for having the absolute #1 best last line of a movie in history. We waited an hour and a half for the punchline of a joke we didn't even notice we were being told. 🫡

Suppose I'll move onto the Frog brothers. Their antics are where most of the comedy comes from, and if there's one thing I have a problem with in this movie, it's the way the two halves don't quite fit together. Michael and David and Co. work on their own as an edgy, stylish, coming-of-age story. Sam and the Frog brothers are the most obvious giveaway that the original concept was something a bit more similar to The Goonies. And it's probably because I like the vampires a lot more, but the kids just aren't that interesting. They're funny and necessary, but I'm not as invested in what they're doing.

Which brings us back to the Lost Boys themselves. The name is a deliberate reference to Peter Pan, and that's where the tragedy of the whole thing comes in. Screenwriter James Jeremias, after reading Interview With The Vampire and the character Claudia in particular, ran with the idea that the reason Peter and his gang never grow up is because they're vampires (which came first, this movie, or the theory that Peter and Co. are the souls of dead children?). You can see that influence throughout the story, and apparently David and the boys were meant to contrast with Michael in the way they represent adolescence, given they're eternal teenagers.

Buuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuut I don't get that very much. I'm sure it's there, but in terms of x vs y, the vampires and the Frog brothers have always stood out more to me. Compare the two kids trying so hard to appear grown up (Edgar even puts on a deep voice that fools no one) and the four kids who will literally never grow up.

I also called this a tragedy, at least as far as the boys are concerned. What else could it be, being a horror movie, but you watch scenes like the bike ride and it's fun and exciting and you understand what Schumacher is going for. They're alive and living in the moment, free in the way only kids seem to be. As you learn what they are, you realize that, for them, at least, this freedom is forever. Life will always be one big party going from one thrill to the next. The tag line is literally "never grow old, never die." And only one of those is true by the end of the movie. The gut punch about David's death (aside from the fact that he dies at all, what can I say, I'm obsessed with him) is that he doesn't go out like the others do, with blood and melting flesh and explosions. He just...dies, as that child choir kicks in one last time, and you see him for what he always was--a dead kid.

In conversation with tragedy is the theme of monsterhood as a whole. When Michael is faced with the reality of what his new friends are and what he himself is becoming, David has this to say: "You'll never grow old, Michael, and you'll never die. But you must feed." Spoken after the vampires have slaughtered half a dozen beach bums, we have the cost of immortality underlined for us. We've also seen Michael struggle against his new nature when he nearly attacked his own brother earlier in the movie, and it's not like he chose to go after Sam because he's evil. It's instinct. Hunger. A matter of survival. We see him alternatively warning Sam to stay away from him and pleading for help to stop what's happening to him because he doesn't want to become a monster, a killer like David. And that's what makes David and the rest of the boys the antagonists, because their survival depends on killing and feeding on other people, but that's all they're doing, is surviving according to their nature. That's the tragedy of monsterhood.

Along with the realization that someone had to have done that to these kids. Someone chose to make them what they are, and that's the real evil of the story.

And speaking of Max, I appreciate the fake-out approach to revealing him as the real Big Bad. It's very Scream, where you were pretty sure it was Billy the whole time but there was that one scene that threw a temporary wrench in your theory. But Star's line about Max being a secret David was protecting comes out of nowhere in a way that feels like there was a bit more context for it initially, but it never made the final cut.

Which leads me to my other gripe. The pacing and timeline don't seem to be in obvious cooperation. Again, it feels like more was there at one point, but transitional scenes were left out, so it's hard to tell how much time passes between the Emersons moving to Santa Carla and the final showdown. Things could either happen very quickly in which case the escalation is on a level with Romeo and Juliet, or it's more spaced out and the space isn't apparent. And I'm leaning towards the "spaced out" approach.

Now. Allow me a few more indulgent moments, because we gotta talk about David.

Look at him.

LOOK AGAIN.

Istg, he stepped around the bend of that merry-go-round and I said, out loud, with words, "oh shit." I had a crisis for days afterward due to the gender envy. I STILL don't know if I want him or if I want to be him. (I'm too fond of my hair as it is to even think about whether or not I'm brave enough for a bleached mullet, so at least I don't really have to think too hard about the answer.) All this to say, can you really blame Michael? One look at this guy and I didn't know what kind of egg joke I wanted to make, so I'm not surprised our boy Mike was trying so hard to fit into this group.

(Yes, you're correct, I'm circling back to my opening statement.)

You can read this as straight up, pun slightly intended, guys being dudes and Michael just wanting to be accepted by the local cool kids. Makes sense, really. They are cool. He's the new kid in town, and that folds right into the usual coming of age narrative with finding your place in the world along with discovering your own identity, etc etc. But if that's the case, then why all the long, frequent, intense eye contact?

@verified-villain-fxcker gets it. 🥂

Look, I'm sure if you tried hard enough to find a heterosexual explanation for the homoerotic tension I'm seeing, you could. But you're on this site, browsing the tag for this movie, so do you really want to? I've got a whole thesis statement on how Schumacher being a gay man/identity influencing one's art/motorcycle clubs being part of queer culture rattling around somewhere in my head, but to keep mostly on topic, I'm sticking with this: part of the coming of age story is discovering your identity, which includes your sexuality. Therefore, it's hardly a stretch to say this is a movie about gay awakening as much as anything else and that Michael Emerson is a disaster bisexual. Of course I'm not the first person to see it that way, but Pride Month is almost over. What else was I going to end on?

He's queer, your honor. Happy Pride. 🏳️‍🌈

[writesforfun]

childhood friends, a Mark Lee Fiction.

angst, fluff, mark is sooo mark-coded here(?), you and mark are friends since birth, neighbor mark, 2k words

Being Mark Lee's bestfriend at the mere age of 0 was a blessing— some people would say now.

He's handsome, that you admit. He's been this guy that's just popular for no reason at all. He's handsome, good in everything he sets his mind at, and don't forget the fact that Mark, although shy and doesn't really have that much of a close friend, is just simply very kind to everyone he meets.

You thought you would lose him when you two were in elementary and middle school— cause he was that popular. Everyone wanted to play and be friends with him, and you thought he would forget you. Which Mark definetely prooved it to be nonsense, cause he sat and stayed with you every day without failure. When you asked why, Mark just simply shrugged it off by saying, "What do you mean why? We're friends!"

So here you are. Both of you are grown-ups, you will be turning 24 at December and Mark had already hit that age in August.

It's now September.

"Y/N! What you thinking?" He holds your hand tight, smiling— nah, come to think of it, he didn't smile. It's a grin. The Mark Lee™ signature grin.

You come to your senses. Today, you're gonna go to an ice cream shop with Mark and then you two are gonna make some popcorn and watch movies at your house.

"Sorry. I was thinking of us during elementary school."

He puts on a shock expression. "Daaaaamn dude. That was such a looong time agooooo!"

You laugh and shake your head, grabbing his hands so that you can pull him to his Tesla so that he would start driving.

"What? Yo I'm serious! When you said that I felt it in my stomach that like.. yooo that was a long ass time ago," He said. You ruffle his hair, ignoring his sound of protest. "You're saying things that doesn't need any further explanations. As a friend, I'm helping you so that both of us wouldn't waste time and hurry up."

Mark rolled his eyes with a smile on his face, opening up his car door for you first and then for him. You felt your heart skip four beats or something and then ignore them for the nth time.

Don't care about your feelings, Y/N. You said to yourself. Yes, you do have an immense crush— no, no. Yes, you do love him since middle school, but that doesn't matter. What matters the most is your friendship. And you would never want to ruin that.

Seeing Mark spend Valentine's Day with someone else at college hurted you like crazy. He always used to spend it together with you, but at college, he spent it with his now ex-girlfriend. They broke up after a year of dating, and a year of your suffering basically. You try to distance yourself then, but Mark just quite simply won't accept distancing as friendship. He visited your house basically everytime, and he picks you up although you gotta third wheel him and his girlfriend.

There was no drama between you and his ex though. His ex have always been nice, and you two still talk via DM sometimes. You know, replying stories and stuff.

"Y/N! I was asking a question, dude," He said, putting his hand your thighs and squeezing them gently. Things he did as a simple caring gesture since you know him.

"Sorry. I was thinking of my homework. What did you ask?" You lied, gritting your teeth before looking at his gawkingly handsome face. You just wanna kiss that smile off his— nevermind.

"I was thinking, maybe instead of rewatching Mean Girls we could just watch Doctor Strange? I've been dying to watch the Multiverse of Madness thingy, I haven't watch that."

You nod. "I haven't too. We're so lame! That's a disrespect to Marvel,"

He laughs, turning the bluetooth volume to a solid 38, making you both hear Taylor Swift's Labyrinth clearly. The bluetooth is connected to your phone, and Taylor Swift is your favorite singer. You introduce her to Mark and he basically just listen to it with you like the good person he is. You brag to Karina and Ningning all the time that he's a trained Swiftie.

But this song.. this song, you relate to a lot. It's about a realization of being in love, and considering your situation, you relate to it a lot.

You don't really believe in good man and love until you realize you love him. Your dad.. he failed to set example of a man when your family caught him cheating during your elementary school years and even going as far as marriage with the person he's cheating with. Your mom forgived him and they're still together— but the trauma you went through was unexplainable. Since then, your relationship with your dad has been different. His voice sounds annoying as hell and every thing he do, you nitpick and hate. Mark has always been there for you though, he even spent all his savings during elementary school to buy you new toys and ice cream.

You know and believe that Mark is a good guy. Every thing he does have always been positive and his mind never fails to make you fascinated.

"Oh God, why are the Halloween decorations have already been put up?" You ask when you both arrive at the ice cream shop you always go together with. It's a 17 minute drive from both of your house, which is in front of each other.

"Better late than never, Y/N. Let's go," He says, opening his door before opening up yours and opening the door for you.

He ordered a watermelon and vanilla ice cream, which you hated and teased him with since forever. You think that's a weird combination and his love for watermelon should never be brought to an ice cream flavor. You ordered a Lotus Biscoff ice cream, and he have a lot of protests for that as well but whatever. Biscoff for life.

"Do you wanna eat it here or in the car?" He ask. "I don't know. How are you gonna eat it if we're gonna eat in the car?" You ask him again instead of answering his question.

"You can just feed me, I guess." He answers nonchalantly, like it's something normal in a friendship. The blur of lines are making you wanna die, and sometimes you just think to yourself whether or not distancing yourself from Mark is a better option.

"Alright then. Let's eat in the car, whatever," You say. As much as you hate to admit it, you wouldn't really pass on feeding him. Both of you had feed each other since middle school anyway.

Coming home from watching Doctor Strange with Mark, you realize that your feelings for Mark is just growing bigger every day, and you finally decide that you can't do this anymore.

Come on, Mark Lee simply would never look at you more than friends, right?

So you decide to ignore his presence. You ignore all his texts, and even when Mark came to your house and ask for your presence, you had already ask your Mom who knows your crush towards him to tell him that you're not in the house.

You usually go to your work place with Mark cause you and him work only 2,4km away from each other. So whenever he picks you up, you were already gone. It's for the best. You miss him a lot but you realize you'd rather lose him now than losing him to a girl he'll marry later. You can't imagine being her bridesmaid and be happy for them though you're dying.

His nth phone call of the day you ignore without failure today as well. It's been a month of ignoring him and you're kind of used to the feeling of a scratch in your heart whenever you hear his dissapointed and sad voice downstairs. Your phone vibrates, and you see his third message for you today.

markie 🐆🦁

Y/N it's been a month. i don't know what i did to you but i know you're ignoring me. whats uppp? please answer me. please. i can't afford to lose you.

And there it is again. Your heart hurts like crazy. But whatever. Just sleep through it like always. It's for the best.

It's your first day of period today and you're hurting like crazy. Usually, Mark would be here to comfort you and massage you and all that stuff, but now, you actually think you're gonna spend your birthday tomorrow without him. For the first time ever in your life.

The day you were born, baby Mark had come with his lovely family to visit your family in the hospital. From his and your parents, you heard that you slept next to Mark and he hugged you both as you sleep. Baby Mark even caressed your hair with his small hands, and you have a video that captured that moment. You watched it again, smiling though your eyes are red and teary. You miss him. The thought of not having him around for your birthday hurt you.

You saw that there are no pads left and let out a long sigh. You put on your hat that Mark gave you as a birthday present and put on your slippers. You then go out your door and decided to buy some pads.

Usually, Mark would buy it for you but— ugh! Stop it with the Mark thing.

"Here's your order. Have a nice day," The lovely lady working the cashier register say to you. You smile through the pain you're going through, wanting to step out before a oh-so familiar voice register.

"Y/N?"

It's no doubt it's Mark Lee's voice. You can see through the side of your eye that he's currently looking right at you with his worried sad eye with his right hand holding a cola.

You don't know what to do. So you run through the door, ignoring Mark's shout of your name as he chases you. It's like the game of chase you two used to play back in elementary school. You cry, you really don't know why but you cry. Passing your house, you run to the park and decided to catch your breath by sitting at one of the slides. You and Mark used to play at that slide all the time until you both grew up.

You look everywhere, and close your eyes when Mark isn't in your sight anymore. You stay in that position for 3 minutes, and when you open your eyes. You almost jump from your seat as you see Mark squatting in front of you sitting in the slide with teary eyes.

"Why— why are you avoiding me?" His voice breaks as he turns away from you, and you can clearly see him wiping away his tears before looking at you with eyes that you swear can make anybody cry. So you become teary eyed as well.

"I'm not." You reply shortly, before standing up to go back to your house. He snorts out of disbelief. "Sit down, Y/N. We're not done talking and if this is the last— if this is— if this is the— if this is the last time we're talking, I don't want it to be an open ending."

You really can't believe that word. You want to just cry your eyes out for 100 years after hearing that word, so you sit down. You want closure as well.

"I know damn well that you're avoiding me. And I really don't know what I did to make you piss off like that. Heck, Y/N, I was jokingly strangling you as we watch Doctor Strange and we were laughing like crazy as well. At some point you even drank a portion of my iced americano. I don't know what I could've done to make you ignore me after all that fun. And I'm honestly so.. I don't know anymore. I'm so sad, Y/N. Mom said she never saw me cry this much. I can't even dare to say that you're ignoring me just because I don't believe that word. Just tell me why are you avoiding me? Am I not good enough as a friend? What am I lacking so much that you decide to ignore me? Why do you do all that while you're here looking as hurt as I am and—"

"BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!" There. You say it. You blurt it out loud. Whatever. You don't care anymore. You are in your most vulnerable and raw feeling and you don't even care anymore.

He closes his mouth. He looks at you with some expression you don't even know what it means. But you continue your words as tears flow from your eyes, "I love you, Mark. I love you since forever. I know you don't feel the same, so I'm taking a step back. I don't wanna be your friend anymore. I don't think I physically and mentally can. It's for the both of us. That way, whenever you have another girl it'll be easy for me, for you, and for your girlfriend. Just please let me be. I'm gonna go home. I don't want you to follow me. Let's just pretend we don't know each other and let me enjoy this heartbreak in peace for God's sake. Please just— please," You stop talking as tears and emotions just stream through your whole body.

"Y/N.." He says. And you just can't anymore. You walk away.

You walk for 11 seconds before his hands reaches you. You shout. You literally shout. You told him not to follow you anymore, what is he trying to do? Stop fixing a friendship that literally cannot be fixed anymore!

"STOP IT!" You screamed. You looked at his eyes with anger until you catch his sad, teary glares.

"Y/N, hear me out. Please?" He says. And after a few thoughts, you decides that he can have a few say in this situation.

"I love you too," He says, smiling through his tears as he hugs you. You're puzzled— standing there and doing nothing as he hugs you close, brushing your hair with his hand, kissing the top of your head as he takes a breath of your scent he missed.

"W-what?"

He laughed, eyes still in tears as he let go of the hug but still intertwining both your hands together. "I love you too. I loved you since elementary school or something like that. Then you had a crush for stupid Choi Hyunsuk in college and I found another girl in college. But even then I realise that my number one, my Mom excluded— has always been you. So then I love you again, up until this moment. You should've just communicated this and not cut me off. That's not nice, baby."

Baby.

Baby.

Baby.

The nickname rings through your head, all the way to your heart because it starts beating unrealistically fast.

"What?"

He laughs again. "Just... I love you. Do you maybe wanna be my girlfriend then?"

You never say yes so fast.

And there it was.

Your birthday.

"Are you really going to spend it without me this year?" He ask as you two eats your favorite cake; a Lotus Biscoff Cookie Cake.

"Yep. That was my plan, until.."

"Until?" He asks with a teeth-showing smile and one eyebrow up. "Well.. until this." You reply, kissing him as you hug him tight.

You can't believe it, but he's all yours.

author's note: HELLOOOO EVERYONEEE! TvT THANK YOU SOOO MUCH FOR READING!! Please do tell me your opinions and thought and whether or not you like a second part where it shows more of Mark and Y/N's relationship ��� have a good year wherever you are!! stay healthy and eat well peeps!

[cameronspecial]

Thorn In My Side, Rose In My Hand (Part 6)

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Reader

Warnings:  Under Age Drinking, Under Age Marijuana Use, Violence and Displays of Toxic Relationship Acts. If I missed one, please let me know.

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: Rafe throws a party in an attempt to see Y/N. Y/N finds out a heart breaking truth. 

Masterlist

Rafe knows Y/N is ignoring him. No matter what he tries, she never so much as utters a word in his direction. So he is giving her some space. He could say that he isn’t throwing a party for the sole purpose of hopefully seeing Y/N for a split second if she chooses to come, but he’d be lying. Normally, he goes from room to room to check on people. Today, he is in the kitchen, guarding the stuff he bought specifically for Y/N in case she shows up. He sees someone reaching for the hard kombucha in the fridge, “Touch that can and I will throw you out of my house faster than you can say kombucha.” The person quickly closed the fridge and exited the kitchen. “You better not be opening that Oreo package,” he threatens to Mason, who Rafe knows has been eyeing the package. 

“Dude, come on. I told you that she isn’t coming. She went to something that Wilson is holding. It sounded fancy. So let me just have one, please,” Mason begs while he inches toward the package again.

“Still you never know. Maybe she’ll get bored and stop by?”

“I love you, dude. And I want to see you guys together, but I think it’s time to call it. I don’t want you to get your hopes up.” 

“I know my chances. I still have hope though. We are meant to be, I just know it.”

———

Y/N sits at the dinner table with all of Wilson’s friends. He is having a dinner soirée. Honestly, Y/N is bored out of her mind, but Wilson is her boyfriend and this is typically a girlfriend's duty. La Bleue Fleur is catering and the topic of conversation is that uninteresting Civil War documentary that Wilson made her watch.  Y/N is pushing around the leftover garnish on her plate as she is the first person to finish eating. “Y/N, what did you think of Timothy Satonis’ masterpiece?” Allen asks, looking toward the girl. She is caught off guard by the question because she has mostly been left out of the conversation. “Uhh, not gonna lie, I zoned out during the movie. Docs really aren’t my thing,” she replies to the group, which causes them to look at her with horror in their eyes. The group is awkwardly silent for a second before Wilson directs the conversation to something Y/N can be involved in, “Did you guys know Y/N is Cassie Y/L/N’s daughter?” 

This sparks a conversation between the dinner guests. “Have you met her?” Hailey questions excitedly. Wilson smiles with pride, “Yes, I have. We met when I took Y/N to Midsummer. Later on,  I gave her a manuscript of my book when I visited Y/N’s house the other day. Hopefully, she can pass it on to her publisher and it gets published.” Y/N finds it strange that Wilson would say it like he was the one to ask her to Midsummer when in reality she is the one to ask him out. “That is an amazing idea. Y/N, what is your favourite book of hers?” Josh inquiries. “Um, probably Murder in The Deep. The series is inspired by my love of murder mysteries and the main character, Arabella, is modelled after me. So it feels pretty personal and sentimental to me. She even mentions me in the dedication and named a murder victim after me.” “I see. Wilson did not tell us you were one of those types of readers,” Josh remarks with judgement in his tone. She turns towards Wilson to see if he will stand up for her. He doesn’t, so Y/N once again zones out as everyone else continues talking about her mom like she is not there. She feels a little uncomfortable, but she doesn’t say anything to avoid making anyone else feel the same way. 

After dinner and dessert are finished, the evening continues in the family room with a game of trivia. Y/N is usually good at trivia as she is on track to being valedictorian and she loves to know random, obscure facts. However, this game of trivia is all related to the same topics, which bore her to death. “If you’re a fan of Ella Fitzgerald, Benny Goodman, and Miles Davis, which museum in Kansas City will be music to your ears?” Allen reads from the card. Hailey rings her bell quickly, “Amerian Jazz Museum!” The group claps at her answer. Y/N didn’t even know there was a museum only for Jazz music, let alone that it was in Kansas City. Hailey takes the next card, “Bela Bartok and Romantic composer Franz Liszt are typically considered the greatest composers to emerge from what European nation?” Y/N wants to be included in the game, so she tries to take a guess at the answer and rings her bell, “Is it Germany?” Wilson shakes his head in disappointment and she can see the embarrassment in his eyes. “Of course, it is not Germany, Y/N. Everyone knows they are from Hungary. If you do not know the answer, then do not bother answering the question,” he chastises and Y/N feels as though she is a child. 

“Excuse me, I’m going to go to the bathroom,” Y/N excuses as she gets up to find the bathroom, hoping to escape the situation. Y/N knew she should stand up for herself, but she didn’t wanna make a scene because that would also be embarrassing. She is walking back to the family room when she hears her name being spoken. She stops just outside of the family room archway, hiding behind the wall. “I do not understand why you are dating her. She has no substance at all. She is vapid and I do not know how you can spend so much time with her,” she hears Hailey complain. This absolutely guts Y/N because this is another one of her insecurities. When compared to the intelligent life of the part, Elizabeth Huntington, she felt uninteresting with her more reserved personality. However, nothing prepares her for the feeling of what Wilson says next. “It is about looking at the advantages. Y/N may be vapid, but I got to meet Cassie and hopefully, I can be mentored by her. It is the only reason why I asked her out. I heard a rumour that the Y/L/N’s like to spend time on the beach where we met. I figured I was bound to meet one of them eventually.”

Y/N could continue to just stand there and be sorry for herself, but her blood is now boiling and she decides to stand up for herself, no matter how much she wants to cry right now. She steps out from behind the wall, “I may be vapid, but at least, I’m not a lonely boy, who is so obsessed with an author that I stalked her and her family. It is so sad that you used another human being just to get your boring ass manuscript read. My mom showed me the manuscript and we both agree that you sound like a giant stick in the mud even when you write. You don’t have to worry about putting up with me any longer because we are over!” This isn’t her finest moment, but she storms out in a hurry. She can only make it so far before she realizes that she could not walk home all the way. Her vision is blurry, meaning she could not see three feet in front of her. 

She decides it is safer to call someone to come pick her up. She takes out her phone and dials her brother’s number, “Dude, why are you calling? Are you a boomer? Anyways leave a message at the beep.” Voicemail. She calls her parents and gets voicemail again. Right, they are staying on the mainland for the night because her mom has a back-to-back book signing there. She goes to call Lacey, but notices she has a voicemail from her friend. “Y/NNNNN, I love youuuuu. Before you ask, I amz totes not drink. Drink. Drunk, lol. Okay, maybe I am. But, I wants you to know I loves you. Alsoooo, I total- total- totally made out with Derren. He is so h-” The voicemail cuts off before Lacey could finish her drunken rant. This causes Y/N to stop crying for a second and giggle at Lacey’s drunken antics. But the realization that she only has one other person to call whom she felt comfortable with makes her feel anxious because she is not even sure he is going to answer her call after the way she has been ignoring him. 

———

Rafe sits on his couch with Elizabeth on his lap and her tongue down his throat. He was able to convince her that saying Y/N’s name during Midsummer was a mistake, which leads to them having been making out for the last ten minutes. Even with the raging music of the party, Rafe could hear the beginning notes of “The Book of You and I” by Alec Benjamin. It is the ringtone he assigned for Y/N. He must admit it is a strange song to have chosen because it talks about a breakup and he and Y/N haven’t even started their story. The song reminds him of her and he knows Y/N loves the song just because of the mention of a book. She loves the idea of a love story being a book of the two people in the relationship. He immediately pulls away from Elizabeth, leaving the girl frustrated again to go answer the phone somewhere quieter. The song couldn’t even make it to the second note because Rafe answers it. 

“Y/L/N, are you hurt?” he immediately interrogates with worry seeping into his voice. With Y/N ignoring him for the past couple of weeks, he knows it must be serious if she is calling him right now at night. “Ca- Can y- yo- you pi-pick m-e u-u-up, please?” he hears her struggle to say through her tears. Rafe’s eyebrows knit together in concern, “Absolutely, send me your pin and I’ll be there immediately.” Y/N whispers a meek okay and goodbye before hanging up the phone, not giving him a chance to ask further questions.

———

Once again another party ended early for Y/N’s safety, but seeing as Rafe threw the party just to get her attention, he had no problem with ushering everyone out of his house as fast as he can. He doesn’t even wait for everyone to be gone before hopping into his jeep and driving off to the location Y/N sent him. He held very little regard for his own safety as he drove past stop signs and red lights. All that matters is making sure she is safe. He finally gets to his destination, the end of Wilson’s driveway. Y/N sits on the decorative rock in a full-on sobbing fit. Rafe jumps out after double-checking he put the car in park. He wraps his arms around her shoulders and pulls her into his neck without saying a word. After a few minutes, she calms down enough to tell him what happened. “He was only dating me to get to my mom. He said I was vapid and I know it’s true, but it just hurts to hear someone else confirm it.” Rafe blood boils at how Wilson made Y/N feel, “You are not vapid. You’re a rose. When you meet a new person, you are the bud. You are more reserved around them. But when you start to bloom, your passion, love, and joy start to show. Just like how when a rose starts to open up you start to see the beautiful red colour that hides within. Wilson was just too selfish and boring for you to do anything interesting with him.” She smiles up at him and nods her head in understanding. “Wait, here for a second. I’m going to go do something real quick before we leave,” he explains before getting up and walking toward the front door.

Rafe knocks on the auspicious door and waits for Wilson to open it. “What are y-” Wilson tries to say, but he is interrupted by Rafe’s fist punching him in the face. “Come near Y/N again and I’ll do a whole lot worse,” he warns, running off toward Y/N. She stands there shocked at what just happened. She giggles at the image of Rafe coming towards her. He grabs her hand as he passes by and drags her toward his car. Once he helps her up, he goes around and drives off, watching in the back mirror as Wilson and his friends finally catch up to the street. Rafe pulls out his phone to play “Getaway Car” by Taylor Swift, which causes Y/N to fall into hysterics.  

Rafe drives Y/N to Tannyhill because he knows her parents aren’t home and that Mason is probably still in a guest room with Amanda, even after the party is ended. “Where is everyone?” Y/N ponders out loud as she sees the empty house. Mason told her about the party Rafe was throwing. “Sent them home when you called,” he informs her without skipping a beat. He says it in a matter-of-fact way that she knows he doesn’t want her to feel guilty. The car stops and they see Mason come out to join them outside. “Dude, where did you go?” Mason pauses when he sees the tear-streaked face belonging to his twin. “Y/N/N, what’s wrong?” “Wilson was only dating me because of mom,” Y/N mumbles, attaching herself to Rafe. His being there during her time of vulnerability has caused her to feel comfort in his grasp. Mason’s face contorts into anger, “HE DID WHAT! I’M GOING TO KILL HIM!” Y/N quickly goes to her brother’s side and puts her arm out so he can’t get past her. “Don’t worry. Rafe already punched him for me,” she assures her brother, who pulls her into a hug. “Mace, you didn’t pick up your phone.” He grimaces and places a kiss on her forehead, “I know, I’m sorry.” “It’s okay, Rafe was there,” she whispers in the nook. “Should we go home?” Mason asks. “No, can we go to the balcony?” She replies, looking between Mason and Rafe. Both boys nod and follow her to her desired destination. 

Rafe and Y/N make a quick stop to get her more comfortable clothes, so Mason goes to get some snacks. Rafe goes past his room, heading towards Sarah’s room. He looks back to check in with Y/N and notices she isn’t following him. She is paused at his door, waiting for him to follow her. “What’s wrong? Sarah’s room is this way,” he points in the direction of the room. Y/N looks at her feet while shifting her weight between the two, “Actually, can I borrow some of your clothes, please? They are comfy.” Rafe smiles at her suggestion, “Of course, you can, Y/L/N.” he takes her inside. He gives her a plain gray T-shirt and black sweatpants. It may be a mundane outfit, but Rafe loved how she looked in his clothes. She is practically swimming in his shirt because he is so much taller than her and she had to tie her sweatpants very tight so they wouldn’t slip down so much. They both giggle at her constant need to pull up the pants as they head to the balcony. 

———

Mason sits opposite from Y/N and Rafe with a joint in hand while Y/N cuddles herself into Rafe’s arms. They’ve been talking about anything and everything just to cheer Y/N up. “Why the dude never used contractions was so fucking weird. He sounded like such an old person,” Mason jokes while taking a drag of his blunt. Rafe laughs, “Those stupid button-up shirts he’d wear all the damn time. With his name monogrammed onto them. He looked like such a douchebag in them.” This continuous mockery of Wilson has cheered Y/N up. “I caught him ironing the collar of it. Only an asshole is that uptight,” she joins in while taking a swing of her hard kombucha. The boys nod in agreement. Mason snubs out the joint and gets up from his seat, “I’m gonna head to bed. Y/N, you cool if we sleep here?” She nods; originally, she was supposed to sleep over at Wilson’s house. With that, Mason leaves the two alone. 

They sit in comfortable silence, drinking their drinks and looking up at the stars. She has now shifted so her head is on his chest and his arm is around her neck. Y/N opens up the pack of Oreos placed on the coffee table in front of them. She untwists the top of the one she picks up and gives the bottom with the cream on it to Rafe. Understanding what she wants him to do, he grabs the bottom and eats the cream for her before handing it back to her. Y/N and Wilson never had this unspoken language while they were dating. “Why doesn’t anyone love me for me?” She wonders as she gives him another Oreo. “Someone does. He’s just waiting for you to be ready,” Rafe whispers without realizing that she heard him. She looks up at him from her position and he looks down at her. She closes her eyes and starts to lean in to kiss him. No matter how much he wishes he could lean down to meet her lips, he knows this isn’t the right moment, so he pulls away. “As much as I want to kiss you right now, I would rather our first kiss be when you are feeling less vulnerable and are 100% sober,” he tells her. Disappointment is written all over her face, but she knows that he made the right decision. She would prefer their first kiss to feel more right and not just because he is there being sweet to her after a breakup. She nuzzles back into his chest and they go back to just enjoy each other’s company. Her light snores tell him she has fallen asleep and instead of waking her up from her slumber, he picks her up and takes her to the other guest bedroom. He tucks her into the bed and admires the serene look on her face as she sleeps. He lightly kisses her forehead and goes back to his room to welcome the sleep. 

Taglist: @itsalexwin @sublimepenguinpeach-blog  @gillybear17  @terraeluce​  @f4ll-for-you​ 

[iolaussharpe-24]

I've realized something.

Brian Petsos movies don't have a lot of fans. Oscar Isaac fans like his characters in Brian Petsos movies. We don't talk about Revenge for Jolly!; we talk about Cecil. We don't talk about Ticky Tacky unless we're praising Lucien and/or comparing/connecting him to Anselm. We don't talk about Lightningface; we talk about how pathetic Basil is and compare him to Steven Grant. We don't talk about Big Gold Brick unless it's to bash it, talk about the cast, and obsess over Anselm. I didn't think this at first, because I just assumed I was the wrong kind of viewer for Petsos projects (I previously mentioned that they kind of reminded me of Jim Jarmusch movies), but the more I've looked around online at reviews and discussions, I've been finding this pattern of negativity. It seems like everyone just kind of agrees that Brian Petsos doesn't really make good movies, but Oscar Isaac makes them worth seeing at least once. And, yes, I am aware that there are things Petsos has done without Isaac, but when you search 'Brian Petsos' the first things that come up are the ones that Oscar Isaac is a part of. This includes The Letter Room, which was written and directed by Elvira Lind but Petsos does have a part in solely as an actor. Even on his IMDb page, there's little to nothing about him but half of the available information is, and I quote, "frequently works with Oscar Isaac". In my opinion, that's pretty telling on it's own. I'm not trying to be mean here, I just think this is kind of an interesting thing to note. If you disagree, please let me know. I'd be happy to debate this. Personally speaking, I've watched Revenge for Jolly!, Ticky Tacky, Lightningface, and a tiny bit of Big Gold Brick. (For the record, I know that Petsos didn't direct Revenge for Jolly! but he wrote and starred in it.)

One thing I will say in Petsos' favor: There's very clearly a lot of genuine passion and love in his work and it does show. Interviews with him, the proud displays of nonsensical strangeness, and the fact that he's able to keep making movies all reflect that. You can tell that the people involved are having fun and I think that's the most important part. I think his weakness (to me) is that his projects feel like they lack something. Revenge for Jolly! didn't feel like it was going anywhere for most of it's runtime. Like it wanted to be and do something but didn't know how. It had fairly decent moments... in the first half. But those moments only landed out of shock value, and they very quickly became predictable. (Also, what was up with that bar scene?) Ticky Tacky and Lightningface felt flat. Like bread that didn't rise. Maybe they needed more time to really explore their premises and characters. Like, if we saw Lucien and Claire together before he finds out about the cheating, or if we get to know Basil before the lightning strike. Both of these are about people going crazy, but without that sense of who they used to be, it doesn't really hit that hard and leaves you wondering 'what the hell did I just watch and why?' This is one thing I think Revenge for Jolly! understood, because we get to see Harry, Jolly, and Cecil before the inciting incident of the movie. We get a sense of their relationships with one another. I can't speak for Big Gold Brick because I haven't seen it in full so I'm not going to bother saying anything for the bits I saw either. That's just not fair for anybody.

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Bengiyo's Queer Cinema Syllabus

Oh hello again everyone! Apologies to the three people who are probably interested in this syllabus journey for falling off the face of the earth for the last few months. Had a lot of life changes and travel going on and have not been falling desperately behind in all of the things I have been watching. Now that I am back home for more than two days at a time, I figured I should get back into the swing of things with @bengiyo’s queer cinema syllabus.. With this post I am officially wrapping up Unit 4: Heartbreak Alley and will get to reap my reward with Lesbians and Gems for Units 5 and 6. As a reminder the films in Unit 4 are: Bent (1997), Strange Fruit (2004), Boys Don’t Cry (1999), Brokeback Mountain (2005), Parting Glances (1986), Philadelphia (1993), The Living End (1992), Holding the Man (2015), Jeffery (1995), and Boys on the Side (1995)

Today I will be talking about:

Boys on the Side (1995) dir. Herbert Ross

[Run Time: 1:55, I watched it through Plex, Language: English]

Summary: Robin shares a ride in her car with Jane from New York to Los Angeles. They stop at Jane's friend Holly's place in Pittsburgh and take her with them west, making a long stop in Tucson. The three very different women become close friends.

Cast:  - Whoopi Goldberg as Jane - Mary-Louise Parker as Robin - Drew Barrymore as Holly

___

OKAY. Shout out to me for getting through the final film in Heartbreak Alley without crying! 

A trend I have noticed throughout the sad films in this section is that the vast majority of them hold the sadness until the end, which is super fair, but also something I would consider to be rather kind. Maybe it’s just me, but seeing Mysterious Skin so early on in this syllabus really altered my perception of what a difficult movie looked and felt like. The movie that compromised me the most in this unit was far and away Strange Fruit, which sits in the Mysterious Skin camp of being great and also something I will struggle to ever watch again. By comparison, a lot of the Heartbreak Alley films were fine. 

I liked how much Boys on the Side was about the bonds between women and the importance of found family. I love a movie where the premise is: girls do crime and then hit the road together. I like how expertly this film was able to pull back the layers on Robin, until you hit the reveal of her HIV diagnosis. When we first meet her, she’s just a kind of put together, somewhat annoying and anal white woman that wants to hit the road for god knows what reason, and you (and Jane) roll your eyes a little at how often she is sanitizing things. 

And then she vomits, and you can kind of just dismiss it as the allergies she says it is. 

And then Jane leaves the car to go see Holly and Robin uses that moment alone to take some medication, and things start to unravel. She goes to bed really early, she looks haggard the longer they are endurance testing their driving on the road. Something is definitely wrong with her, and BOOM, she’s collapsed and is hospitalized, and you find out she’s HIV positive. 

I liked how distinct all three of the main characters felt, and I liked their friendship with one another. The full blown, silent conversations that can pass between them. I like the little moments in a slice of life, the birthday parties, the dancing, Jane making Robin shout “Cunt” because she feels uncomfortable referring to her vagina. I liked that having HIV was just a detail in her life, and that the movie itself didn’t feel like An AIDS Movie. 

Even though Robin is surrounded by red the whole time, something which I usually associate with AIDS itself because of blood and red ribbons. Robin’s car is red, the lighting in her first hospital room is read, the list of plumbers and landlords she leaves on the fridge at her old apartment in New York is red, they settle in Tuscon, they live in a house made of red clay. But she is never the one that is painted in it. She never wears red, she is not the one painted by it. Jane is the one that bleeds in this film, Jane is the one washed in the red lights of the hospital. But the bigger instances of red: the car, the house contains an entire life inside it. A friendship. Happiness, sadness, anger, joy. You barely even notice that it’s there. 

When Robin’s initial case of pneumonia was resolved, the doctor wasn’t worried about it, and even though Robin did pass by the end of the film, the movie itself wasn’t about her dying of AIDS. It was about the friendship between Jane, Robin, and Holly. At least that’s how it felt for me. 

Definitely my favorite part of this film was that Robin was allowed to be absolutely pissed and to kick Jane out of the house when Jane revealed her status to the man Robin liked. Jane was just trying to be helpful, and the man himself was very chill and totally fine with her status. But Jane didn’t have a right to disclose that information. 

I want to know more about the writers of this film, because I liked that the person in the movie who had AIDS was not the former drug user, or the queer person, but the heterosexual, cisgender, white real estate agent. That it seems to have been a little bit of time since she got her diagnosis, and she’s got a handle on how she is dealing with her grief. She doesn’t pity herself, once Jane and Holly know about it, she’s very casual with her references to the blood tests she needs, etc. 

Even if AIDS is a death sentence still in a movie like this one, I still think the film itself is kind about how they portray it. Robin can still be there for the people she cares about. She can get a very violent situation under control, she can fly across the country and testify to try to help Holly, she brings Jane happiness, music, fun. She doesn’t want a funeral, she wants a big party in the house they shared. She makes it long enough to tell Jane she was loved, to go home and meet Holly’s baby. 

We don’t have to watch her die, and even though the last scene of the film itself is an empty house, the understanding that Robin is dead, we don’t have to see her mother, who already lost her husband and her son, mourn her, we don’t have to watch her die. And we are immediately handed the end credit title cards that are just a compilation of the happy moments between Jane, Holly, and Robin. They don’t make you sit in the emotions there for very long. You get the sad scene of Robin seeing the visage of her dead brother, telling Jane what she wants to happen after she’s passed. And then it is immediately followed with a birth, with happiness and humor. You get the happiness of the baby shower when Holly gets out of prison and then the sadness of a shared song and an empty house, and Jane painting her nails in the car as she continues on her journey. And then you get Robin’s face, smiling away, laughter, chaos, joy at all these little moments in the film. 

A good movie to end this section on, both as a wind down piece and as an appetizer for Unit 5: Lesbians. 

Favorite Moment

I think my favorite moment of the film was when Jane and Robin meet Abe for the first time. Mostly because it is absolutely fucking hilarious to watch the paragraphs of silent, judgemental conversation they are having with each other while simultaneously trying to process that Holly who accidentally murdered a guy is dating a cop. It was truly such an expert portrayal of the psychic connections you forge between close friends. 

Favorite Quote 

“Everyone go potty, we don’t want to have to stop,”

I know what you are thinking. “Wen, why the fuck is that your favorite quote of the film?” It’s because of the context. Picture this, you have entered an apartment that is not your own after seeing through the window that the person who responded to your newspaper ad looking for a road trip buddy is in a fight with a random guy. The apartment you enter is a mess and your road trip buddy and her friend are bleeding at the hands of an abusive, drug dealing, asshole. You have managed to get the situation under control once already through sheer force of reasonable suggestion, only to have it ruined when this woman you do not know hits the abusive fucker over the head with a baseball bat. 

THEN because you don’t want to murder him, but you also don’t want him to catch up to you, you and these two women you barely know, tie this man to a chair with rope and duct tape. You have thought through the timing of how long it will take him to break through the binds and have thought about the noise and found a music disc that will last long enough to give you one hell of a head start. You are standing next to this guy who just beat up two people you barely know, who you have hog tied, and who is bleeding from his temple, and in the flattest, most mother telling her child to do a simple task way, you suggest that everyone uses the potty before they essentially enter a getaway car and escape from the scene of this assault. It was just so fucking funny to me. 

Score 

8/10 

I enjoyed the movie, but I think I wanted a little bit more attention and depth on Jane and less on Holly. I think there were a few too many threads going on, and that some of the set up was unnecessary. But I had a good time. 

And that’s it! I have finished Unit 4, I have so many more films to watch, but I inch ever closer to getting to rewatch Big Eden so onward I charge!

[lotusbl0ck]

Imaginary Love

(Requested?: no) (my first work!) I just finished watching the "IF" movie and it was lowkey amazing and cried. ____________________________________________________________

The hum of New York City life filled the air as taxis honked and people bustled through the streets. Amidst the chaos, you found a rare sanctuary in your small, cozy apartment on the Upper West Side. Your niece, Bea, had recently been through a remarkable journey, one that led her to reconnect with a group of imaginary friends she had once relied on. After helping them reunite with the children they once belonged to, she had introduced you to Calvin, her imaginary friend. Despite the strangeness of his origin, Calvin had a certain charm and an undeniable warmth that drew you in.

Tonight, the city seemed particularly restless. You were in the kitchen, preparing dinner, when the doorbell rang. Wiping your hands on a towel, you hurried to answer it. Standing on the other side was Calvin, his usually bright demeanor overshadowed by a look of uncertainty and sadness.

"Calvin, come in," you said, stepping aside to let him enter.

"Thanks, Y/N," he replied, his voice tinged with weariness. He moved past you and into the living room, glancing around as if seeking comfort in the familiar space.

"Are you alright?" you asked, following him and taking a seat on the couch.

He sat down next to you, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know, Y/N. It's just… everything's changed so much. All of us are trying to find our place in a world that doesn't quite understand us."

You reached out, placing a reassuring hand on his arm. "It's a lot to process, I know. But you're not alone in this. Bea and I are here for you."

Calvin looked at you, his eyes softening. "I appreciate that more than you know. But sometimes, I feel like I’m a relic of a past that everyone else has moved on from. Like I don’t belong anywhere."

Your heart ached at his words. Despite his vibrant personality, it was clear that he was struggling with his sense of identity and purpose. You shifted closer, wrapping your arms around him in a comforting embrace. "You belong, Calvin. You have a place here, with us."

He hugged you back, holding on a little tighter than usual. "Thanks, Y/N. You always know how to make me feel better."

As you pulled back, you noticed the hint of a smile returning to his face. "How about we finish dinner together? Cooking always seems to help clear the mind."

Calvin nodded, a flicker of his usual enthusiasm returning. "Sounds like a plan."

The two of you moved to the kitchen, working side by side to prepare the meal. The rhythmic chopping of vegetables and the sizzling of the pan provided a soothing backdrop to your conversation. You talked about lighter topics, sharing stories and laughter, gradually lifting the heavy mood that had settled earlier.

By the time dinner was ready, Calvin seemed more at ease. You both sat down at the table, the delicious aroma of your cooking filling the room. As you ate, you couldn't help but admire the resilience and strength that Calvin possessed. Despite his uncertainties, he continued to push forward, finding joy in the simple moments.

"Y/N, I never got to thank you properly for everything you've done," Calvin said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence.

You looked up, meeting his sincere gaze. "You don't have to thank me, Calvin. We're friends, and friends look out for each other."

He reached across the table, taking your hand in his. "Still, it means a lot. More than I can put into words."

His touch was warm, his grip gentle yet reassuring. You squeezed his hand in return, feeling a surge of affection for the man who had become such an integral part of your life. "You're important to me, Calvin. Never doubt that."

The rest of the evening passed in a blur of warmth and contentment. After dinner, you and Calvin curled up on the couch, watching an old movie and talking about everything and nothing. It was in these quiet, shared moments that the bond between you grew stronger, a testament to the connection that transcended the ordinary.

As the night drew to a close, Calvin stood up to leave. You walked him to the door, the cool night air rushing in as you opened it.

"Thanks for tonight, Y/N. I really needed it," he said, his voice soft and filled with gratitude.

"Anytime, Calvin. You know where to find me," you replied, smiling warmly.

He hesitated for a moment, then leaned in to press a gentle kiss to your forehead. "Goodnight, Y/N."

"Goodnight, Calvin," you whispered, watching as he walked down the hall and disappeared into the elevator.

Closing the door, you felt a sense of peace settle over you. Life in New York was hectic, unpredictable, and sometimes overwhelming, but with Calvin by your side, you knew you could face whatever challenges lay ahead. As you prepared for bed, you couldn't help but look forward to the days to come, filled with the promise of new memories and the unwavering support of a friend who had become so much more. (You can see imaginary friends just like Bea :D ) lotusbl0ck, signing off!

[raven-at-the-writing-desk]

Ortho, Sebek: The Human Condition

OMG ORTHO COPIES IDIA 😭 dtqtwfh5;#?vekcmsksk These vignettes were super wholesome!! Always love hearing about Ortho’s perspective; he’s quite different from the other NRC students.

I think my favorite part was Sebek being shocked that Idia willingly leaves his room for family outings. Then when Sebek offers to pitch ideas for outdoor family activities, my immediate thought was, “this man is about to suggest doing Lilia-sama’s hellish training as a family friendly activity and Idia is actually going to die” 😂

Just Riddle's birthday left before Jamil begins the cycle anew!

A Boy in Bloom, and his Flowering Future.

“What do you do on your days off?”

How mundane the question was for a pair that was anything but. The birthday boy, a humanoid robot, floating by his feet on gravity-repulsion tech to meet the eyes of his tall interviewer, a young man half fae and half human.

Ortho practically bounced as he produced an eager response. A large grin awaited behind his mouth visor. "I enjoy spending time with the students of Night Raven College! Whether it's streaming movies to watch, working on a play production together, sharing a meal, or just observing them... There's just so much I have yet to learn about the people around me. I'm glad that I'm able to experience these things and make friends while at school. I'll forever treasure these moments!"

Sebek's nose crinkled, his forehead creasing. "I doubt the humans at this school are anything to note of. Night Raven College may boast students worthy of its prestige, but none can compare to the grace and dignity of the young master and Lilia-sama's company!"

"That's not true, Sebek Zigvolt-san." Ortho slowly shook his head. "Life forms differ greatly from one another, but they each have something special to offer. As a technomantic humanoid, I have access to the wealth of knowledge on the internet and in my databases--and still, I do not understand the human condition."

“What could there possible be to 'understand'? Humans are known to be inferior in every capacity. They are born small, helpless, and frail, with only a fraction of them capable of producing a modicum of magic. If one were to compare them to the stars in the night sky, they are but mere specks!"

"But in a way, don't you think that ordinariness is actually what makes them so extraordinary?" Ortho gave an excited twirl.

"I fail to see your point. There is nothing extraordinary about being ordinary!!"

A giggle.

"Humans are capable of the illogical, compelled by profound emotions. An exhilarating happiness which blinds them to their actions, sorrow so immense they're driven to isolation, anger which rages out of control and hurts those around them... And not only that, but backgrounds and values--these all shape the soul and lend perspective in ways I could never imagine for myself."

"You speak of emotions as though they're magic spells." Sebek's gaze was questioning. A knight defending his stance--but lacking his usual sharpness, replaced by quiet conflict. "To be human is not so complicated!!"

“Eeeh?” Ortho tilted his head to one side. “Nii-san can talk for hours about his ‘best girls’ and the intricacies of animaga plotlines though.”

“YOUR BROTHER IS AN EXCEPTION TO THE RULE!!” Sebek boomed as he folded his arms. “His inane rants lie beyond the realm of comprehension! How he happily spends his days locked up in his room being an unproductive lout, I’ll never grasp.”

“Nii-san doesn’t spend all of his days inside! He goes outside too,” Ortho pouted. “We go around town and play this creature-collecting game called Pocket M—”

“WHAT?!” Sebek’s thunderous voice interrupted the child. “You must be deceiving me!! Your brother… WILLINGLY leaves his personal chambers?!”

“Yes…? Is it really that strange?”

“He doesn’t the impression of being an outdoorsman,” Sebek said flatly.

“You’d be surprised. Well, even more than you are right now!”

Ortho’s eyes lidded, his smile turning fond. Memories fizzled up from his memory banks—happy days, spent hand-in-hand. “… Mama and Papa, Nii-san and I, we’d go on outings to lots of places. Parks, rivers, stores, mountains. Maybe they’d have taken us to the ends of Twisted Wonderland if we asked them to. It didn’t matter where we went, as long as we had each other.”

Sebek had gone silent as the birthday boy recalled the past. Hazy thoughts given clarity. Ortho’s tale resonated somewhere buried deeply in Sebek.

Time spent earnestly with family…

His gloved hands clenched into fists, his heart softening. “… Myself as well,” Sebek confessed. “When I was a child, I would have similar outings with my parents and siblings.”

“See?” Ortho beamed proudly. “Something as small and as simple as this can connect us, even though we’re so vastly differently. That’s the magic of it. What makes the ordinary extraordinary.”

There was a break in his voice, and a quick correction before he continued. Sadness had seeped into his words, weighing them down. “Many years ago, we lost something important to us. Nii-san started holing up in his room. The family outings stopped, and everyone drifted apart."

Sebek scoffed. "So he was a coward that ran away at the first major tragedy he encountered. What gall!!"

"That's a natural reaction to trauma. It’s only recently that Nii-san has found the courage again to face the world. He had the strength to face his fears and change the course of his life. That's amazing to me!"

Ortho angled his head upwards. Sunshine spilled onto his face, highlighting the lights in his artificial irises. They were bright as a jolt of lightning in the dark, full of life.

"There are people like Nii-san who can be shy, introverted, or withdrawn. But even they're still human, a social creature. They love, and they want to be loved back by their friends, their families, their special ones. Those bonds connect them to others. It grants them the power to behave in unexpected ways."

Sebek looked startled by the declaration. His pupils were thin slits, mouth wrenched into a confounded "o".

"Love makes humans do crazy things. Nii-san was able to go from zero to hero. Mama and Papa regained what they had lost. I was born from those feelings. And I think... the world itself can be changed with that power. That's what it means to 'live', and to be human. There is no other existence like it."

Doing crazy things…

What it means to be human…

Sebek clamped his jaw shut, a rare instance of inability to conjure a defiant rebuttal. A semblance of a thought attempted to squeeze out, but it quivered as it rose up, still only half formed.

He thought of his mother and grandfather. So gallant, so noble. Then there was his father. Plain, unassuming. So ordinary.

Yet a father that loved him all the same.

An unknown pressure had been building in his chest all this time. He didn’t know what it was, only that it was uncomfortable. A truth creeping up on him, bypassing his shields.

Pat.

Sebek glanced up in shock, finding that Ortho had hovered far above him, planting a pat upon his head. The robotic boy ran his hand through Sebek’s slicked back hair. Back and forth, back and forth, in a reassuring manner.

“You too, Sebek Zigvolt-san! As long as we have people who love and support us, we’ll be just fine.” Ortho’s eyes were electric. Sparking with energy.

“… Heh.” Sebek wiped whatever contemplation had remained on his face away, replacing it with a smirk. “Of course!! I wouldn’t be Malleus-sama’s guard were I to be of poor lineage!”

“That’s the spirit! You gotta shoot for glory among the stars and soar like a comet!”

“Hmph!! I must be slacking off on my training if I’m standing here being lectured to by a child.” Sebek pursed his lips (in what Ortho could only assume interpret as a stiff smile). “… For better or for worse, you are far more human than you realize.”

“Affirmative!” Ortho’s expression turned mischievous. “Shall I register your statement as a compliment?”

“Wh-What NERVE!! I was in NOT WAY complimenting you!! Humans are every bit as flawed as they always were! To call you human-like is not a net positive!!”

Ortho laughed—for this, too, was another precious bond, another thread woven on the spindle called Fate.

Ding!

A sound went off. He shuddered as it came in waves across his metal body. Thumping set into Ortho’s head—a reminder of the time.

“Oh! That must be the alarm I set for the birthday party.”

Eager to change the subject, Sebek loudly cleared his throat. “The time has come, then! Your departure awaits!!”

He presented Ortho with his broom. Like every other birthday boy’s before it, a beautiful bouquet was secures where the bristles would normally be. Blues and whites, like the sky, telling of the truths that he sought.

“Ooh, so pretty!” Ortho cried, accepting the broom by the handle. It was firm against his fingers, the roughness of wood picked up by his tactile sensors. “A special piece of equipment was prepared for me.”

“Will you be able to handle it? You mentioned early in our interview that you typically do not use magic to fly.”

“I can adopt to the situation, just watch! I’ll show you the full extent of my flight capabilities.”

Clink, clonk.

Ortho ungracefully plopped himself down on the broom. The movement was a little difficult—no thanks in part due to all the intricate pieces that made up his “cape” and “robes”. But he was a facsimile of a Night Raven College student all the same.

A birthday boy.

Ortho gripped the broom and leaned forward. The air around him formed a warm bubble, a pleasant hum building in volume. When he counted to 3, all the stored energy was released in a single, powerful burst.

The android took off. His kickback—a ring of shimmering blue light—radiated in his wake and swept across the campus. Heat washed over Sebek and passing students, hugged the trees and shrubs.

It was proof of Ortho’s presence, something warm and kind and full of heart.

His humanity.

[skyfallslayer]

The Black & White Lie || Chapter One

-Modern Day!Eddie Munson x Wheeler!Reader-

Series Masterlist

🦋Summary: Ah, College. A time where you can finally spread your wings and enjoy a little bit of freedom. And you’re even spending it with your best friend, Jonathan. You shouldn’t get too lonely… right?

🦋Pairings: Slow burn! Eddie Munson x Wheeler!Reader; (Past) Jason Carver x Reader; Platonic! Jonathan Byers x Reader; Jonathan x Nancy

🦋Rating: Teen

🦋Word Count: 3,248

🦋Date: 2/18/24

🦋Warnings: Brief mention of underage drinking; Brief talks of sex - of losing virginity; Slight Reference to a panic attack. Read At Your Own Risk!

🦋 A/N: If you recognized the summary for this story, this is actually inspired by the movie 'Son-In-Law'. When I watched for the first time the other day, for some reason the love interest reminded me of Eddie a lot and- *Ding*Ding*! Lightbulb moment! And then before you know it, every idea came flooding in and then this was born. Hopefully it turns out like it did in my head. Lol. Enjoy!

In a small rural town in Hawkins, Indiana, is where this strange adventure begins. Born 18 years ago is our main protagonist of the story, Y/N Wheeler. Y/N grew up with a loving family that owns a farm, consisting of her twin sister, Nancy, her younger brother, Mike, and baby sister, Holly; and of course her parents. 

When she wasn’t helping out on her parents’ farm, Y/N was the typical “all american” girl. She dawns lovely clothes, is mindful and full of manners, a cheer captain and top of her classes throughout the school years and earned many straight A’s that steered her in the right direction for a bright future and career. Which leads to her very big day…

.

.

.

Now here you are, dressed in hunter green silk and caps, the seniors waited around on the bleachers of the basketball court, diplomas in hand as they listened to their principal speak from his heart, telling them that he was very proud that you made it this far. When he finishes everyone claps and soon the spotlight falls upon you as the class valedictorian. 

You stood up as your name was called, hearing everyone applaud and your family cheer from you in the stands; You even heard your boyfriend, Jason, shouting your name. You step up to the podium with a smile, proceeding to recite the speech that you’ve replayed thousands of times.

“Today, I would like to talk about change. It’s all around us.” You feel your family’s eyes on you as you begin. “Change. It happens whether we want it or not. Change. Are we ready for it? I think so. We are poised and prepared for the future, ready to embrace new people, places and ideas. In short, we are ready for the challenge of life. Lady and Gentleman, take a good look at us. We are the future. We are the Hawkins Tigers. Here us roar! We did it!”

“I give you the class of 20XX!” Your principal sent just as everyone sent their caps into the air while jumping with joy.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“We fucking did.” Your twin, Nancy, said once everyone was settled down into their friend’s house for the party. She passes you a drink and gives you a wink to silently tell you this was a… special fruit punch.

You laugh quietly. “Thank you Mr. Hopper.” You smile and take a sip before sighing with relief. “Four long years and it’s finally over.”

Nancy hums. “And you’re the one who’s jumping right back into it.”

You quirk your eyebrow up. “Hey, pot-kettle? You’re going to college, too.”

“Not willing…” She sighs. “I wish I could have gone to the same school as you.”

“I know.” You frown a little. It was always hard to not stay attached to your twin, especially when you’ve done pretty much everything together. However, you try to keep both your hopes up by saying, “But, hey… you can’t pass up a scholarship. Indiana’s instate school is still just as great as California’s. Not to mention, Indiana U has the best journalism courses, this is your dream! Your calling! You’ll be great.”

You see your sister smile, happy with the outcome just as someone came up and slung their arms around both your shoulders.

“How are my favorite girls doing?” Jonathan, who was your childhood/best friend, asked, with the biggest grin on his face. Whether that was from drinking or feeling the high of not being in highschool, you were unsure of but glad to see he was enjoying himself.

“Pretty amazing, actually.” Nancy replies to her boyfriend (Yeah, her boyfriend. Whom she should thank you for that). “You?”

He lets out a blissful sigh. “Fantastic! The nightmare is finally over.” 

You snorted and teased, “You really didn’t like it?”

“Hell, no. You think there’s room for a nerd like me? I never fit in.”

“Awe.” Nancy said, squeezing his cheek. “You’ll always be our nerd.”

“Thanks.”

“Hey, hey! Y/N! Jonathan!” You both turned around to spot one of your brothers’ friends, Dustin. He smiles with his goofy toothless grin, making you heart melt (He was always your favorite one. Don’t tell, Mike). “Hey, if you find a cute girl around my age in Cali, send her my way.”

“Dusty!” His mother said, catching his conversation when she walked by.

“What?”

Jonathan laughs. “We’ll try. I promise.” He said, ruffling the kid’s springy hair.

He holds his hand to his chest, all moved. “What about you Nancy? Any cute girls in Bloomington?” 

“I will definitely try, Dustin.” She promises as well, crossing her heart. It must have been enough for the boy before he ran off with some friends to the backyard.

“What do you think Cali’s like?” Jonathan asked, genuinely curious.

“Hmm, don’t know.” Nancy said, knowing just watching shows from there and reading up about it wasn’t enough information.

“I mean, sun, sand, ocean, uh–” 

“Baywatch, The Hollywood sign, uh, Nickelodeon, um–” You started naming off things and couldn’t hide the fact that you were about to laugh at your own antics. Both your sister and friend were on the verge of doing the same.

“Nickelodeon?” Jonathan muttered, surprised.

“Y-Yeah, uh, Regular Show, San Andreas fault, Chris Pine, Comic Con, Pet Rocks–”

“Pet Rocks?” Nancy asked, confused.

“Hey, they were invented in the state, look it up. Uh, Universal Studios, Barbie, The San Diego Zoo, Alcatraz–”

She chuckles. “Y/N, Stop.”

“Never.”

“Oh, kids!” Jonathan’s mother, Joyce, called out, getting their attention. 

Well, I guess that’s your guys’ cue to take some photos.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You were all packed and ready to go for the next day. Since Nancy didn’t start school till next week, your family decided it would be nice for all of you to pack in the old van and drive to your new school. Your Dad says it was for… safety, but you knew better; They were all going to desperately miss you. Which leads to this conversation that’s been going back and forth for a few moments now.

“-California is a long way off just to go to school. Are you sure you don’t want to reconsider going in state?” Your father, Ted, asked, and just when you were about to ‘go to bed’.

You laugh lightly, trying to calm his nerves. “You know I want to do this. Besides, I won’t be alone. Jonathan will be there with me.” 

“Well– that’s true. But uh, Y/N, I’m not sure if I’ve really prepared you for what you’re gonna run into out there. Uh–” He clears his throat as you raise an eyebrow. “What I mean is… the boys are different from what they are here. They’re uh–”

“Dad?”

“Hmm?”

You smile. “I’ll be fine. You know me.”

He nods. “Yeah, I guess you’re right.” He knows you well enough that you won’t do anything too crazy. “Now let’s try to get some shut eye.”

“Okay.”

“Goodnight.”

“‘Night.” 

And when the door shut, your closet automatically flew wide open (and you pray that it didn’t make too much noise).

“He’s officially calling it a night?” Nancy asked, dressed in street clothes which you were also wearing under your robe. She was skeptical as she stared at the door wondering if he’ll just waltz back in here without warning.

“Yep.” You reply, shedding your coverage and standing tall.

“Oh, finally! He gave the same talk, and I don’t leave for another week!” She smiles. “Thanks for letting me sneak out.”

“Hey, we both got to see our boyfriends before we leave, right?”

“Just–” She grabs you by your hands. “Be careful, alright?”

“Right back at you, Nance.”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

You found yourself in the barn that was far away from your house. Laying on the hay bales, you were kissing Jason passionately, your hands in his hair and slowly moaning his name as he slowly undoes each button on your blouse. But your worriedness got the best of you, making you squirm a bit from his touch.

“Jason.” You whisper, feeling his fingers skim across your bra straps.

“What?” He said back, ghosting your ripe lips.

“Slow down.”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I-I want it to be right.” You reply, a twinge of guilt courses through you as he stops his actions, looking you dead in the eyes with concern and softness.

“Well, when is it going to be right?” He asked, sounding like a lost puppy. “You’re leaving tomorrow.”

You almost laugh at the face he was making. “You act like it’s forever.”

“Well I’m not going to see you for three months. What if everything changes?”

“Nothing is going to change.” You shake your head, cupping his face and stroking his cheeks with your thumb. “I’ll go to school, you’ll work at the co-op, and we’ll see each other every single vacation. And when I’m done–” You smile. “We’ll be together.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

“Okay.” He whispers, fully under your spell. “I guess I can wait.”

You hum in delight. “Now…” You pull him closer again. “Where were we?”

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Dad’s going to blow a fuse if we don’t leave soon!” Nancy says, barging into the bathroom where you were finishing up doing your hair.

“I know, I know. I’m finishing up.” You said, sparing your twin a glance. You can see her button her collared shirt all the way up, making you grin like the cheshire cat. “Oooh… I didn’t know Byers was a biter.”

She blushed and lightly smacked you in the arm. “Do not tease me. I mean he always is.”

Your eyebrows shot up. “Always?”

“Yeah.” She locks eyes with you, face still red before realizing. “Wait… You and Jason still haven’t done it?”

Now it was your turn to blush. “W-Well–”

“I thought you surely were going to do it last night?”

“I-I don’t know, I got weird.” You shrug, breaking eye contact. “I told him we should wait, you know, when the time’s right.”

“So you’re going to be like a 40 year old virgin?” Nancy teased, copying your grin from earlier.

“Hey.” You said, smacking her this time. 

“Joking, I think it’s sweet. Y/N Wheeler, the purest of all Wheelers.”

“You know they think you’re pure too.” You said as you followed her out and down the stairs.

“Ha, ha.”

“I’m serious, Nance!” You reply, feeling around your pockets as you do so. “Oh, crap. I forgot my phone.”

“Well hurry up! Dad’s a ticking time bomb.” She yelled back and hustled out of the house. The conversation she foretold was being presented in front of her.

“I don’t get why we’re driving. Flying would be much easier.” Mike complained as he loaded his backpack into the car with a sour expression.

“We’re just trying to spend some quality time with your sister, Okay?” Their mother, Karen said, giving him a look to tell him to stop.

“Oh, good, Holly’s here.” Ted said, as he spotted the four year old climbing into the van. “Mike, where’s your sisters?” 

“I’m here!” Nancy said, while fixing her hair to cover her neck.

“Okay, where’s Y/N then?”

“Maybe she’s still in the barn with–” Mike snickers, before getting whacked in the back of his head by Nancy. “Ow! Mom!”

“Kids, stop fighting!” Karen shouted back.

“Y/N!” Ted called out, upon seeing his daughter still up in her room through her window.

“Coming!” You called back, double checking you have everything before you go (I mean I guess your family could mail anything you need to you but that’ll be a hassle for them; And maybe kind of a dick to do that to them?).

“Well hurry up! Time is of the essence.” He sighs. “I swear, the Byers are going to beat us there.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

And sure enough…

They did.

Parking pretty much right next to each other, you stood their basking in front of the school along with Jonathan and his sister. The younger girl was looking at it like she’s never seen such a big building before.

“Bitchin’.” She says, and both you and Jonathan hold back a laugh.

“Language, young lady.” Jim, or who you like to call, Hopper said to his daughter who gave him a strange look.

“You say it all the time.” 

“Think she’s caught you there.” Jonathan said, throwing salt into the wound.

“You’re not helping your sister here.” He points to the car. “Now I’m going to make my kids grab your own bags.”

“What?!” They said, which resulted in some light bickering, which was kind of happening with the other family beside them.

“Y/N! Get your head out of the clouds, and let’s find your dorm.” Ted said, and you hurry over. 

The families grabbed the belongings and headed straight first into the hectic crowd. This was definitely a culture shock for them, especially for the Wheelers. The hallway was crowded with rowdy young adults, cracking jokes, makeout sessions, and even the occasionally streaker. You locked eyes with your sister when it happened, who was trying to hold back a smirk as your eyes just stayed wide. Your dad ushered you to keep moving until you found your dorm, overhearing a conversation while you passed.

“Uh, this was the– uh, opportunity that you wanted for your daughter?” Ted said, as Karen tried to hold back her feelings on her face (Which was hard at this point).

When you finally got to the room at the end of the hall, room 408, you noticed the left side of the room was empty, free for you to use. The other side was already occupied, filled with a few movie posters and cheer pendants. You smiled and wondered what your roommate would be like (and was excited that she likes cheerleading like you. At least you have a good conversation started).

“Hey, why don’t you see where Jonathan’s at?” You tell Nancy who complied and dove back into the crowd.

“Well this is very cozy, sweetie.” Karen said, trying to stay positive.

“It’s a shithole.” Mike replies, plopping on your bed.

“Mike!”

“What?”

“It’s… not bad. I’ll do.” You said, also trying to keep your head up high. But your brother tries to say something else and you were fortunately saved by a cute ginger girl entering the room.

“Hello, there. I’m Chrissy, your roomie.” She said, slightly shy as she gave the family a wave.

“Hi.” You said, waving too. “I’m Y/N.”

“Sorry to bother you, Chrissy, but it seems we forgot the key to her trunk.” Ted said, gesturing to where most of your belongings were. “Do you have any idea where I can get some tools?”

“Oh, yes. Uh, our resident advisor should have something.” She points across the hall. “He’s right across from here.”

“Oh, perfect. Thank you.” He was secretly happy that his precious daughter would be across from the advisor. He pushes himself past some people, knuckles brushing against the door. He knocked a few times afterwards when he didn’t get a response, wondering if maybe it was too loud to even hear it or he’s not in. So, treading carefully, he opens the door to peek inside.

This was not at all what he was expecting.

He was blasted in the face with ‘Iron Maiden’, and a room that screamed heavy metal. Stickers and posters laid across the wall, all consisting of either some kind of band or horror film; A record player-CD combo on the shelf, instruments of every kind, sheet music on the floor, leather jackets and boots hanging off from the windows and ceiling. This was not…

Resident advisor material.

Did he walk into the wrong place or–

“Hello!!” A voice shouts before he dangled upside down in front of the older man. Ted nearly has a heart attack as he startles and falls back against the door. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you, I’m just trying to get the creative juices flowing. You know?”

“Uh– s-sure.” Ted said, still trying to process this. He keeps his eyes on him and not the fact that this boy was hanging from a pipe. “Um, I need to borrow a screwdriver.”

The boy, who’s hair was long and curly and orbs of cinnamon, raised an eyebrow. “Sorry, I’m all out of vodka.”

“N-No, I need an actually screwdriver. My daughter’s trunk is–”

“Oh, you have a daughter! Is she cute?”

“What–”

“I’m just kidding.” He smiles and holds his hand out. “Name’s Eddie. I’m the resident advisor.”

Make that a second heart attack for Mr. Wheeler, who’s face paled as he tried reaching for the doorknob behind him. “Oh, shit. Oh, shit.”

“What? Where are you going?” He asked, with a snort. “Don’t leave me hanging.”

But Ted was already hustling back over to the room where they were still talking to Chrissy, who was getting them up to speed on how this place ran. He comes over to his wife, pulling her aside and discussing what he just witnessed and how he’s not liking this. Meanwhile, Nancy had just returned while stringing along her boyfriend.

“Oh, Chrissy, this is my twin Nancy and my friend Jonathan.” You said, as she waves to them.

“Hi. You guys coming to school too?” Chrissy asked, your sister shaking her head.

“I am.” Jonathan said, before looking at you. “Y/N/N, this is awesome.”

You tilt your head. “Really? I still think this is a bit overwhelming.”

“I admit, it is, but my roommate, Argyle, is a trip.” He smiles. “I’m so going to love this place.”

“See, honey–” Karen said, loudly. “Jonathan’s staying.” She holds her hand up to stop her husband from talking. “And yes, I’m sure Joyce has some words about this place too, but the kids can’t pass this up. They got on a scholarship here.”

“But Karen–” He tries to protest.

“They. Have. A. Scholarship. They’re staying.” Her eyes trailed over to yours. “Right?”

You flash your dad a smile. “Don’t worry, Dad. It’ll be fine. And you know I can always come home.”

“See, Ted?” Your mother points out, finally defeating him. He mumbles an ‘okay’, satisfying her.

���°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

“Mom, you’re suffocating me.” Jonathan said, after yet another hug and kiss from his mother. She was holding back some tears at the thought of leaving her oldest child behind in another state. 

“Oh, I’m sorry. I’m really happy for you, I promise.” 

“I know, Mom, I know.” He takes her hands in his. “I promise I’ll be okay.” She opens her mouth to speak. “And I promise I’ll call every once and a while.”

Joyce smiles at the answer. “You’re going to do great.”

The family of five shared a hug afterwards, wishing him the best of luck. Meanwhile, the Wheelers were doing the same, squeezing the life of You and nagging you to make you call, or at least text them here and there. You of course promised them too, which was a good enough answer.

The last person to hug you was your sister, giving you a small squeeze of reassurance, knowing you like the back of her hand.

“I know you’re nervous about fitting it, but don’t sweat it.” She says, pulling away. “You’re going to do fine. If not, you can always go home, or…” She smirks. “You can nag Jonathan.”

You chuckle. “Of course I can nag him. It’s not like I’ll be alone.”

You have Jonathan, and you even have your chill roommate, Chrissy. You shouldn’t get too lonely.

.

.

.

.

Right?

(TBC)

A/N: I promise the next one will be longer :) - Thanks for reading!

-Taglist Is Open-

[sugawhaaa]

Junhan x reader

Shy little bunny~

Disclaimer~this is a complete work of fiction and is not intended to offend anyone! This is just for pure imagination and creativity.

Genre:smut (ish?)

Warnings: suggestive at the end

A/N: this is my first time posting smth a little spicy but I just wanted to see how it'd turn out if I did post it 😋

It was a rainy Saturday night in xdinary heroes dorm but instead of getting bummed out by the sad weather you and the boys decided to make a big meal together. Loads of side dishes, of rice, seaweed soup, noodles, spring rolls etc and some spicy chicken legs that were the main attraction of tonight. You and your boyfriend Junhan were on Ramen and rice duty. The kitchen was quite the disaster from Seungmins talented cooking skills to Jooyeon's sad attempt at not burning the spring rolls. The kitchen was a mess but it was filled with laughter. After all the chaos was over with, you and the gang sat down at a food loaded table with the scent of delicious flavor flowing through the dorms. After everyone got together and did a big cheers with their glasses of whine, pop and water you started digging in.

After everyone was overflowing with food in their stomachs it was time for dessert which was a homemade cake you and Junhan had baked last night. Gaon put candles on it (for whatever reason) while Gaon was carefully loading up the cake with rainbow candles Seungmin turned to you (a little tipsy)

"Hey uh Y/N what's that strange mark on your neck?" He said pointing his fork towards your lower neck and Junhan choked on his water. You turned your head to look at him, and your face began to flush "Oh look there's two of em" Seungmin said looking closer and squinting a bit

"AHEM what's the verdict on those candles Jiseok becauseIreallydon'twannakeeptalkingabout this" you awkwardly laughed

"Almost done," Jiseok said, sticking in a few more candles with the tip of his tongue hanging out in focus. Then o.de turned to Gunil asking him if he also saw the marks on your neck. Junhan swiftly wrapped his arm around your neck to cover the marks up. It was pretty obvious what they were and considering the walls are rather thin in these dorms they probably heard some… noise last night. But you still found it difficult to talk to the other members about you and Junhan's relationship.

"It's called a hickey O.de," Gunil said nonchalantly, causing your face to heat up.

"What's a hickey?" O.de asked dumb founded

"Well when two people love each other-" Just as Gunil was about to start his very embarrassing and awkward lesson Jungsu turned the lights out

"Alright! Let's look at this wonderful candle show you set up for us Gaon" Jungsu said, walking over to the cake with a lighter. The cake was a little…deformed due to the amount of wax candles shoved in it but when lit on fire it was a little hard to notice the difference. After blowing out the candles Jungsu went to turn the lights back on when there was a big woosh. Everyone stopped eating.

"What was that?" Jooyeon asked with a mouth full of cake. Jungsu flicked the light switch back and forth.

"Just as I thought, powers out"

The boys sighed and groaned in disappointment.

"Awe I wanted to watch a movie tonight" jooyeon said sadly

"I have a USB with some movies on it," Junhan said shyly looking down at his plate "I dunno if you'll like any of them though" Junhan looked up to see you and all the boys wide eyed and excited. So you and XH got out some blankets, pillows and snacks. While everyone was setting up, Junhan hooked up the USB to the TV and started looking through the movies.

"Okay so we can either watch Epic, the My Hero Academia movie, scream or a barbie movie?" And as soon as Junhan said Barbie everyone started cheering for Barbie so Junhan stuck it on and everyone got cuddled up together to watch fairytopia. Everyone was making jokes about it and genuinely enjoying it and it was actually very fun.

~Spice~

Near the end of the movie you set your hand on Junhan's thigh. He didn't show much of a reaction so you decided to rub your hand up and down his thigh. Again there was not much of a reaction besides a very quick glance to your hand. You eyed the other boys to make sure they weren't looking at you or Junhan so you slide your hand further up his leg and just a little to the left. That's when you finally achieved your goal. A quiet little moan came from his lips. Considering he is anything but vocal when you two are being intimate this was quite the surprise.

He shuffled a bit in his seat but you just kept following his crotch with your hand. Despite it being quite dark you could see him harshly biting his bottom lip to suppress his sounds. He finally admitted defeat and stopped trying to squirm out of your grasp. You took a moment to let him think you were done teasing him but to his surprise you lifted your palm up and slowly pressed it back down along his length. He covered his mouth quietly and threw his head back. You could feel him getting harder under your grip but you got snapped back to reality.

"Oh yeah I forgot to ask, does everyone have flash lights for tonight? The power will probably be out for a while, "Gunil said, turning to look at everyone on the couch. Everyone nodded their heads or said something like "yeah" but neither you nor Junhan replied. "Junhan? Y/N?" He asked looking over at us

"Yeah we're good-ah!" As Junhan was replying you decided to test him and move your hand up and down his crotch quickly. Gunil just gave him a weird look and shrugged

"Okay" and with that everyone went back to watching the movie. After that you decided to leave Junhan alone and you put your hand back on his thigh.

After the movie was finished everyone was talking to each other about the movie. Making more jokes and talking about the weather etc.

"Jeez it's 8 and I'm so tired" jungsu sighed

"How about we all go to my room and play some games! Doesn't that sound fun?" Seungmin said excitedly and everyone agreed except for you and Junhan.

"You guys wanna join or?" Asked Gaon

"Um, I'm good. How about you Junnie?" You said politely before turning to look at Junhan to await his response.

"I'll hang back too, thank you for asking though," He smiled. Gaon just shrugged and said "okay" before walking away with the others. Now it was just you and Junhan left sitting on the couch. You both waited to hear the door to O.de's room latch as soon as you both heard it clicked you looked at each other. Junhan grabbed a pillow off the floor and smacked you in the back of the head with it.

"Gah! What was that for!" You shouted

"I could ask you the same question," he huffed. You laughed "Giving me a clothed handjob while Jungsu was sitting right next to you!"

"Well you're speaking rather negatively about something you were clearly enjoying," you said leaning closer to him. He tried forming a sentence but it just turned into a stuttering mess before he sighed. That's when you found your hand in a familiar location. On his inner thigh. Was he stammering over such a simple touch? He really is sensitive. You could greatly use this to your advantage.

"Well even if I did enjoy it, we already did this last night! Two nights in a row… I don't know if that's a good idea," Junhan said avoiding eye contact

"It's a weekend, it's fine," you said gently, pushing him down by the chest. As his dark brown eyes scanned your face and body they started to fill with lust.

"I guess, you're right" he said clearly, focusing on you and not what he was saying. You leaned down to give him a kiss. He wrapped his arms around your neck as you two passionately kissed. You then brought your hand back down to the zipper of his jeans and started unzipping them. Junhan started to smile into the kiss.

"The members are gonna have a lot of questions tomorrow," he chuckled.