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#hey hey found that post i thought i lost!

get-back-homeward · 11 months

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I know it’s all just standards.

But Ringo’s Sentimental Journey is utterly charming.

We really should talk more about how he turns to this project as therapy as the band is falling apart. It’s pure nostalgia in a bottle but with Ringo jazz drumming and just having fun with it singing and adding these cute little improv bits. Blues Turning Grey Over You is a highlight for the “I just lost myself there, child!” laugh at the end.

It’s all utterly charming.

It’s a really cool collaboration too. He recruited different musicans arrange each piece (including Paul, who arranged Stardust, perhaps before the breakup drama heats up). George Martin produces and gets the big band together. They start recording more sporadically at first, starting Oct 1969. Night and Day, Stormy Weather (which got left off the final album but I love he tried it), Stardust, and Dream, all recorded before Christmas. The rest are Jan-Mar 1970.

It gets ripped to shreds by the rock cred sector. But Ringo using this as a grief project, sorta returning to childhood in the midst of a blow for comfort, feels more honest and healthy than he gets credit for. It’s also brassy af. This is the height of “fuck jazz,” and Ringo’s just like “so what? I’ll do what I like.”

George said he liked it. John slagged him off for it in interviews, but I bet he secretly liked it too. Not sure whether Paul ever commented on it given the dual release drama. He does his own standards album decades later, after it becomes a thing artists do. But when Ringo does it in 1970? No one was doing that.

#sentimental journey #ringo starr #blue turning grey over you #particularly sounds like ringos version of grieving #pringo folks yall should be all over this one #pauls recording all by himself while john and george recruit ringo for their solo work #we know ringo took that hard with that lyric about not knowing if paul will play with him #you always hurt the ones you love #thats why that quotes on his mind #ringo appreciation post #my text #hey hey found that post i thought i lost!#when i say fuck jazz i mean fuck 40s big band #boomers saw it as their parents music and rejected it for decades #ringos like i know its my parents music but its also sounds of my childhood and like a warm blanket and thats kinda beautiful

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millyhelp · 4 months

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Jason had just woken up. the large arm stretched out so he could pull you by the waist and snuggle you into him. Your side of the bed was empty and cold. Your cell phone wasn't on the nightstand.

Where are you?

Panic broke out in Jason's mind, making the post-sleep haze disappear. You never wake up before him.

Jason stood up with only his black Versace underwear on his body. He went to the bathroom, you weren't there, he went to the office and you weren't there. He always kept weapons hidden around the apartment and this was a time when he picked up a 9mm that was under a corner table in the apartment's hallway.

"Where are you?..." Jason's voice sounded shaky. His hands were tight on the gun in his hands.

He went to the kitchen and walked through the living room, guest room, you were nowhere to be found.

Did she leave me? Could it be that she abandoned me? What did I do wrong?

Jason ran his hands through his hair. No sign of you. Not your purse, not your keys, nothing. For a moment he thought you were just a dream, but no, the nail marks that burned on his back and the hickeys along his chest and abs proved otherwise.

The sound of the door unlocking made him alert at the front door. It opened and there you were. A sigh of relief left Jason's lips. He ran over to you and pulled you towards him.

"Jay-oh, hey..." The bags that were in your hand fell to the floor and you struggled to close the door and hug Jason then. Thick tears that Jason had no idea he was shedding before you arrived wet your shoulder.

"Where-" a sob left Jason's lips "Where were you?"

"I just went to buy things to make you lunch, babe..." You ran your hands welcomingly along Jason's back. He was holding you tight to his body. "You were sleeping so peacefully that I didn't want to wake you up."

her smell. she is here. she didn't leave. I'm not alone. it's her. she is here.

"I'm here now, it's okay." You kissed his neck sweetly and he whimpered. "I'm here..."

"Dont leave me... please..." he whispered

"i won't. im sorry for not waking you up." Jason looked into your eyes. The arms were still around you, you felt cold metal on your back. "What is that?"

Jason remembered he still had the pistol in his hand. He showed you and you looked at him in surprise.

"I thought someone took you from me." The face, red and wet with tears, spoke with melancholy. "I would kill anyone who tried to take you from me."

your heart pounded in your chest. He really thought someone had taken you or that you were gone. You took the bags in your hands. "Come with me. Let's leave this in the kitchen and I'll go back to bed with you, put that gun away, it's not necessary." You said sweetly and kissed Jason's cheek.

Jason nodded. He still had one hand on your waist, he wasn't going to let you go anywhere soon.

you walked to the kitchen and placed the bags on the counter. Jason put the gun next to the things and hugged you from behind while you took the things you bought out of the bag.

his large slender fingers caressed your belly while he watched you attentively and in silence taking things away. Jason's thoughts were lost on you and only you. the way you moved, everything about you gave him peace of mind, his mind wasn't an enemy when you were present.

"a penny for your thoughts." You said with a smile on your lips.

"You."

"Me?" You giggled and felt Jason nod and then felt him rest his chin on your left shoulder.

"Yes." He whispered. "What will you do?"

"a brazilian dish. feijoada is the name." You sigh when you manage to finish taking everything out of the bags.

"hmm." Jason mutters. "can we go to bed now?"

you took Jason's hand and guided him to the bedroom. You only realized that he was only in his underwear when you took off your dress and lay down in just your bra and panties.

You opened your arms to Jason and he buried his face in the middle of your breasts. "Would you kill a kidnapper with just your underwear on?"

"Mhm..." He muttered and you giggled. Jason squeezed your hips, pulling you closer, if that was possible.

"Don't ever do that again..." he said quietly "Never leave again without at least telling me, please..."

"I promise." You kissed Jason's forehead and he buried his face in the valley of your breasts again.

he was finally at peace again and could go back to having a peaceful sleep while in your arms.

#millyhelp thoughts~#jason todd #jason todd fluff #jason todd angst #jason todd x reader #jason todd oneshot #red hood x reader #jason todd smut

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euniexenoblade · 4 months

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since we're talking about call outs lately, i've been called out many times, most of which are made from lies and sometimes by altering screenshots, but the most effective call out i ever got was like, in early 2015 there was a tumblr user everyone knew was a terf, but she would say "actually i support trans women" this was before crypto terfs were as talked about so the language wasn't really there to say "hey this person is a crypto terf." but yeah some people put posts of this woman on my dash and i made a random post on my blog "why do yall reblog her shes a terf" and of course she searches her own name daily, found my post, and replied to it that me calling her a terf was racist. that was it. no other interaction. but she went on all night talking about me being racist and just making things up as she went "oh i bet she says the n word all the time irl" kind of shit that had, like no basis? But her follower base took it 100% and i literally had thousands of anons telling me to kill myself, trying to goad me into being racist (didnt work), and the most concerning thing was i got hundreds of anons being like "what was the point of doing hrt if you still look like that, you should kill yourself." It was like, violent and overwhelming. and on top of it I'd get random young teenager trans people who followed her and bought into her bioessentialism showing up in my messages being like "you give trans people a bad name" "you're why transphobia exists" etc etc it was fucking crazy.

but i lost like, no followers because everyone around me understood, this woman was a terf. this all set up the real one though.

later in the year a teenage "communist" trans girl made some snarky comment about me being racist on a post of mine blowing up. i ignored her cuz like, who cares it's just some random teenager. but i guess people were looking for a reason to hate me cuz that blew up, lots of people just took that at face value no need to investigate. when someone finally did send the girl an ask being like "hey how is she racist" she replied "I dont remember but I know she is" and even more people just took this as 100%. the thing is, i do remember her being one of those "you make trans people look bad" terf following young trans people, it's not that she didn't remember, it's that she didnt want to admit she followed a terf and she believed a terf just saying shit. I lost like 3/4s of my followers, i had a lot of people i thought were my friends just stop talking to me, and going forward every time i got a call out there would usually be a line of like "also she's racist, everyone already knows this" all cuz this girl needed to make a snarky comment cuz she just loves terfs.

the thing about the "i dont remember" bit is it made some weird game of telephone. "I dont remember" became "oh she's racist, i think she says the n word" which became "she called black bloggers the n word" like people just made shit up about me and connected it to this call out. and when id be like this isnt true id be met with a "this is just known, youre a known racist" and it's like, to this day i will still find people be like "hey good on you for growing as a person and not doing that any more" and its like I NEVER DID IT TO BEGIN WITH

#ranting

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5sospenguinqueen · 6 days

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Growing Pains | Oscar Piastri x Reader

Summary: When fans begin commenting about your future plans, Oscar begins to worry that your long-term relationship is preventing you from truly experiencing life.

Warnings: Swearing. Angst. Self-sacrificing Oscar haha. Childhood sweethearts

Female reader with various faceclaims. Pics found on Pinterest.

2023 season

Less baby-fever, more baby panic haha. I'm so sorry if these aren't as baby-centered as the others. I've been trying to make them a little different.

Main Masterlist

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YourUserName just posted

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, danielricciardo and others

YourUserName i love weekends off with you <3

978 comments

oscarpiastri you didn’t post the one of me with my face in the water? that is the sweetest thing you’ve ever done for me

→ YourUserName only because your ass was in the air and i’m the only one allowed to see that

→ oscarpiastri oh

→ User1 we would like to see this photo please and thanks - and not just for the ass

landonorris @ oscarpiastri well, now you’ve told the internet that it exists, we need to see it

→ User2 lando is one of us

danielricciardo i’m still your favourite australian though, right?

→ YourUserName no. i’m my own favourite australian

→ oscarpiastri you tell ‘em, sweetheart

→ User3 SWEETHEART!!!

User4 i know they’re only young but when can we expect a wedding

→ User5 they’ve been together for long enough. they’re practically already married at this point

→ User6 their wedding would be so cute

→ User7 can you imagine all the f1 appearances we would get?

→ User8 mark webber in a tux 🤤

mclaren our favourite young couple

→ landonorris hey!

→ mclaren you and daniel don’t count anymore

→ danielricciardo hey!

User9 papaya wedding when?

logansargeant did oscar pay you to make it look like he was good at other sports?

→ YourUserName i thought we decided you weren’t allowed to bully him anymore

→ logansargeant we decided nothing!

→ oscarpiastri at least i know what a kilometer is

→ User10 RAHHH 🦅🦅

User11 how can someone look so good after being in the water? i look like a drowned rat

→ User12 she literally takes the yummiest pics of oscar

→ User13 oh, i was talking about y/n. he’s just ken

→ User14 his job is beach

oscarpiastri just posted

liked by mclaren, charles_leclerc and others

oscarpiastri my favourite girl 💕

2,664 comments

YourUserName don’t let suzie hear you say that. she’ll be distraught

→ oscarpaistri maybe you should drive her more and she’ll love me less

→ YourUserName whoa, i thought this was an appreciation post for me, why are you throwing shade

→ landonorris why would she drive her own car when she has you to do it for her?

→ YourUserName exactly!

→ User15 wait, suzie is a car? i was hoping they had a pet or something we didn’t know about

→ User16 their family includes them and a car, apparently

→ YourUserName be realistic. there’s more than one car in this relationship

User17 in the paddock wearing a lando shirt?

User18 the disrespect to have lando’s # on her back but be stood in front of oscar’s garage

logansargeant yet i suggest she support driver #2 and i had holes poked in all my juice boxes

→ oscarpiastri you can never prove that was me

→ YourUserName i have video footage

landonorris everyone can relax, she’s wearing the shirt because she lost a bet. oscar was a good sport about it

→ YourUserName i got soooo many dirty looks that day. the fans did not like me

→ oscarpiastri i still think you’re beautiful. not as beautiful with MY number splashed only our back but

→ YourUserName you know 81 is my favourite number

→ YourUserName (and sometimes 16)

→ charles_leclerc forza ferrari

→ User19 everyone is a ferrari fan

→ User20 everyone wants to know what the bet was

→ arthur_leclerc @ YourUserName whoa, hey. you once told me i was your favourite leclerc

User21 these two are literally my favourite couple in the world

User22 the fact that they fell in love during the most awkward years of a person’s life and have continued to love each other when they got hot

→ User23 they saw the potential in each other

User24 the fact that he’s loved you since you were 14 and continues to love you more each day 🥹

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YourUserName just posted

liked by racerbia, alex_albon and others

YourUserName i’m so proud of you, osc. another podium in a long-line of many. thank you for sharing your joy and success with me. 🧡🧡

when i befriended the nerdy 12 year old who wouldn’t stop talking about engines, i never imagined that you would be dragging me around the world. don’t get me wrong, i always believed you would make it this far. i just thought i would’ve managed to break free from you before then 😂 however, i’m so glad i didn’t because you are my favouritest guy in the whole world, and seeing you on that podium made me cry more than watching the supernatural series finale

1,220 comments

YourUserName oh, and well done to lando on P3, i guess

→ landonorris you guess???

User1 time for another round of: is he looking at lando or y/n in the 3rd pic?

→ landonorris it was y/n this time :(

→ YourUserName you get loads of pics of him looking at you like this, let me have my moment

→ User2 girl, the fact that you got lando AND y/n to respond to your comment

→ User1 dying!

oscarpiastri thank you for coming with me around the world and supporting me no matter what. you’ve been one of my biggest supporters these past 8 years and i don’t think i could’ve done it without you by my side. i love you so much, even if i come second to dean winchester 🧡🤍

→ User3 P2 in your relationship as well

→ oscarpiastri only because y/n is p1

→ YourUserName stop making me love you more and more each day. i might explodeeeee

User4 my parents. i need them to adopt me because they’re just so cute

mclaren we’re so proud of our aussies

→ danielricciardo you used plural?

→ mclaren oscar and y/n

→ danielricciardo she doesn’t even race!

→ YourUserName and yet i replaced you

→ danielricciardo everyone says you’re so nice but i see you for who you really are

→ YourUserName which is better than you!

→ User5 y/n y/l/n for alphatauri 2024

→ danielricciardo no.

User6 drenched in champagne is a good look for piastri

User7 the pirelli cap needs to stay on during sex

→ User8 is this y/n’s secret account

landonorris this is so cute. excuse me whilst i puke

→ User9 just admit you’re jealous and move on

logansargeant i can confirm that they’re this mushy about each other in public as well

→ YourUserName and i can confirm that logan cried with me watching supernatural, and seeing osc on the podium

→ logansargeant dude!

→ YourUserName you forget, i’ve also known you for years and have many embarrassing memories of you

→ logansargeant y/n y/l/n is the best person i know

User10 when people ask me if f1 is a serious sport, i just show them their comment sections

aussiegrit so proud of our boy

liked by YourUserName

maxverstappen1 a delight to share the podium with your boyfriend for the 2nd time

→ User11 y/n’s boyfriend and y/n’s boyfriend’s boyfriend on the podium with max 2x in a row

→ YourUserName omg max verstappen commented on my post! you’re like my favourite driver ever

→ oscarpiastri you agreed not to mention this in public

→ User12 i don’t think this is a joke considering there’s a redbull in the background of one of these pics

→ charles_leclerc @ YourUserName i thought it was me

→ landonorris i thought it was me

→ fernandoalo_official jokes on all of you, she told me it was me

→ aussiegrit you're all wrong. it's me

User13 if you guys are after a third, i’m free?

→ User14 how could you say this to the cutest couple on the grid

→ User15 because y/n has said worse and is more unhinged than we think but oscar’s pr manager has gotten to her recently

User1 i’m gonna have to agree with @ OscarPastryyy just because they’ve been together forever doesn’t change the fact that they’re still young

→ User2 they probably just wanna focus on being together and travelling the world

User3 agreed. yeah they’ve been together for a while but that doesn’t mean that having children is their only option. they’re still technically children themselves

NicolePiastri he doesn’t know how to do his own washing. trust me, he’s not ready for children. Y/N on the other hand, has been keeping that boy alive since they were 12

→ User4 omg we love you

→ User5 nobody humbles an f1 racer more than mama piastri

→ User6 he may have 2m followers on insta but he’s not too old to be embarrassed by his mother

User7 @ CHICKEN!! is so real for that. max is only 4 years old than them and yet everyone talks about him, kelly and P being a family and when are him and kelly getting married, but y/n and oscar have been together for longer than kelly has been a mother so…

User8 i think people only focus on their age and forget about their experience. i went to school with them and they still act just as infatuated with each other now as they did when they were 14.

→ User9 but they’ve also only been with each other. perhaps they should try dating other people before committing to the rest of their lives

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YourUserName just posted

liked by aussiegrit, logansargeant and others

YourUserName quando a Roma 🇮🇹��️ tagged: YourBFF, YourBFF2

1,009 comments

YourBFF i told you that pic of you by the fountain would look amazing

→ YourBFF2 i think if we pumped another cocktail in her, she’d have gone swimming in it

→ YourUserName stop making me sound like a sloppy drunk

→ YourBFF you were sloppy anyway

→ YourUserName bitch

→ YourBFF2 it’s part of being in your 20s. welcome!

→ YourUserName not funny.

User1 guys, oscar hasn’t commented. he always comments on posts with her in, even if they’re posted by friends/family

→ User2 he did like though?

mclaren orange drinks to support your favourite f1 team this weekend?

→ YourUserName you know it. papaya pride!

→ YourBFF2 she actually said that to herself when she took the pic. you’ve indoctrinated her

lilymhe cute post but you’re coming to sichuan with me next

→ YourUserName just name a date and time, and i’m yours

→ alex_albon what is it with you and stealing f1 drivers’ partners

→ YourUserName i think that just means i have the most rizz

User3 you mean to tell me that she’s in rome the weekend that oscar is all the way in america? so, she’s not going to be at the race 🤔

→ User4 she doesn’t have to go to every one

→ User5 i know but she’s said loads of times that she tries to make all of them

→ User6 yeah but she’s on a girls holiday. this might have been the only time that y/n and her friends were all free at the same time?

User7 how are you so pretty

User8 all of you calling y/n a bad girlfriend but are we forgetting that they’ve already been together for 8 years, and have known each for 10. they’re at the point where they don’t have to be glued to the hip all the time

→ User9 literally. like they’ve been together longer than some of the married couples on the grid

→ User10 yeah but it’s just unlike them. how do they go from being infatuated with each other to distancing within 2 weeks without there being some cause? it wasn’t a natural progression

User11 you look so beautiful in that dress. White is definitely your colour

logansargeant i can’t believe you didn’t bring me back a gift.. you said you would

→ YourUserName i also said i’d wear a williams t-shirt one race but we all know that ain’t happening

→ User12 is this logan shooting his shot?

alexandrasaintmleux i knew that would dress would look good on you. you look radiant

→ YourUserName my favourite shopping partner

→ charles_leclerc my girl has good taste

→ YourUserName not if she’s dating you

→ charles_leclerc you have hurted my feelings

User13 y/n hasn’t been able to terrorise oscar on social media and it’s showing because sis has been dragging the grid in their comments haha

→ User14 she’s so funny. i bet they’re fearful anytime her name pops up in their notifs

User15 i love how we all sound insane to other people but us oscy/n stans know we’re right because they’ve been a constant media presence since his f2 days

User16 we may not sound crazy but i sure hope we are because they are the only reason i believe in love

User17 i hate to say it but what if we’re the reason they broke up? we couldn't stop talking about them getting married and having kids lately, and what if it freaked them out…

User18 i can’t imagine oscar piastri without y/n y/l/n. i only really follow f1, not f2 but he’s always been oscar and y/n since he started. it would be akin to not seeing him in mclaren

mclaren just posted

liked by YourUserName, ln4 and others

mclaren get you a teammate who looks at you the way these two look at each other #unitedstatesgp

1,559 comments

oscarpiastri 🧡

racerbia team papaya! 🧡

User1 so exciting to see lando on the podium again

User2 poor oscar, such a shame he had to retire after minimal contact

User3 not to be that person but it was defo because y/n wasn’t there. she’s his good luck charm

YourUserName well done lando!

User4 anyone else getting more and more confused by oscar and y/n’s relationship purely because of their media presence

→ User4 for info, she posts that she’s in rome the weekend he is in america, proving that she isn't attending the race. oscar likes the post but doesn’t comment despite y/n looking beautiful in that post (1/4)

→ User4 then she’s not spotted in the paddock, further proving that she’s defo not at the race. plus, whenever oscar was asked about her during interviews, lando quickly changed the topic for him (2/4)

→ User4 then oscar crashes and y/n doesn’t post ANYTHING about the race but when he dnf’d in bahrain and belgium, she put numerous posts on her story about how proud of him she was (3/4)

→ User4 and now she congratulates lando on the mclaren post but doesn’t even mention her long-term boyfriend?? (4/4)

→ User5 you have too much time on your hands and are reading too much into things. i’m sure she’s facetimed him to see how he’s doing and told him she’s proud of him

User6 okay but if a man looked at me the way oscar and lando look at each other, i would marry him on the spot

User7 the way lando and oscar are always smiling/laughing when they’re together

User8 oscar has such golden retriever energy

danielricciardo @ oscarpiastri first your girlfriend tries stealing my seat, and now you’re stealing my lando. you two are giving aussie's a bad name

→ landonorris you’re the only for me, boo

→ danielricciardo don’t lie. the pictures show everything

User9 looking forward to a better result for oscar next weekend

User10 i miss y/n and oscar. we’ve only been without them for two weeks. i don’t know how i’m going to cope with the rest of our lives

maxfewtrell lando used to look at me like that :(

User11 i miss when we couldn't tell if he was looking at lando or y/n like that. now we know it’s lando because y/n isn’t in the paddock

Note: Their texts at the end kinda resolve things (and, yes, he crumbled after just one race without y/n) so let me know if you want a Part 2 showing their future? As he doesn't really need a redemption so no Part 2 planned as of yet.

As always, requests are welcome!

GUESS WHAT’S COMING NEXT WEEK!!

A Lando x Plus Size Reader

I’m kidding. (I’m not. I am actually releasing that) but also Danny Ric Baby Fever Part2!!!!

Baby Fever Angst

Daniel's Version | Max's Version | Lando's Version

Lance's Version | Charles' Version

Tag list

@bibissparkles @barcelonaloverf1life @rlalliehayes @dullypully @softtina @callsignwidow @lav3nder-haze @minkyungseokie @luvrrish @fall-bambi @evans-dejong @sadsierra2 @justdreamersdream @spookystitchery @dark-night-sky-99 @majusialikesfastcars @luckyladycreator2 @bborra @mrosales16 @reguluscrystals @tvdtw4ever @alwaysclassyeagle @gigicisneros @spanishcorndogs @thecubanator2 @goldenharrysworld @awritingtree @jxnellat @sbrn0905 @hc-dutch @buckybarnessweetheart @ironmaiden1313 @dreamercrowd @yourbane @reguluscrystals @peachiicherries

2K notes · View notes

zyafics · 2 months

Text

headspace | drabble

masterlist

pairing rafe cameron x female reader

summary when rafe hasn't seen you in twenty-four hours, he comes over to your house to check on you.

content (1.0k words) fluff, suggestive tone near the end, rafe trying to be a good boyfriend, math (yuck!) — reader type academic weapon, burnout from studying (me), anxious, cries from being overwhelmed and pushes people away when busy

dedication inspired by this post by @winterrrnight (definitely check out her stuff!! 💘)

zya's notes was this purely self-indulgent? maybe. but it was a good writing break for me before i get back to linear algebra myself.

"What are you doing here?" You accuse, opening your bedroom door to discover your boyfriend standing behind it.

"I'm here to see you." Rafe says, taking in your appearance. You're wearing a borrowed tee of his, the name of his fraternity plastered in Greek letters, with shorts that's barely seen under the long material. "I've been texting you all day."

"You have?" You ask, your voice softening from the sharp undertone of your accusation. You're just so tired. "My phone's been on DND."

"Why?" He lets out a dry chuckle. He doesn't like the fact that you’ve been ignoring him. "You fuckin' someone?"

That earns him a scowl and Rafe knows he messed up when you pull on the doorknob, closing the limited space that allows him to see and enter your bedroom. "I'm not in the mood, Rafe. How'd you get in?"

He swallows hard. "Your mom let me in."

"She's home?" Your brows furrow together. You've lost track of time. You've been so busy that you didn't even hear your parents coming back from work. "Shit, what time is it?"

You abandon your post at the entryway and search for your phone in the messy covers of your bed. When you check the time, your heart drops. It's nearing midnight.

Rafe quietly slips into your room with his hands in his pockets and searches the place. He admits the first signs he looked for was the presence of another man. That you, in the twenty-four hours since he last saw you, have decided that he wasn't enough and that you found someone else. Instead, what he uncovers is your textbooks sprawled all over the floor, crinkled up sheets of papers surrounding your trashcan and your laptop and tablet propped on your desk with mathematical symbols and equations on the screen.

You weren't out finding his replacement. You were studying.

Your heart is racing, trying to figure out what to do next. You didn't even realize Rafe slipped to your side till his hand catches your wrist and pulls your attention away from your darkened phone screen.

"Hey." Rafe whispers, noticing the panic on your features. "Have you been studying all day? When was the last time you ate?"

Momentarily drawn away from your thoughts, you search your brain for an answer only to recall a distant memory of some yogurt and granola.

"I don't know." You admit. Your chest tightening at the look of concern that flashes across his face. "I can't think about that right now."

"You can't think about food?" He repeats, incredulous. "You're the one who's always trying to get me to try new places."

He was trying to make you laugh, relax, but all it does is set your lips into a flat line. He really is not living up to the role of good boyfriend right now.

"I have a huge exam coming up in two days and I still don't understand a single concept. And it's midnight." You explain, your breathing growing more rapidly as the realization dawns on you. "I shouldn't have gone out with you yesterday, I knew that, but I went when I should’ve stayed in—"

"Hey, hey." He shushes you, his hands sliding up to your shoulders. He knows you're about to descend into a spiral right now. He can't let it happen. "Look at me."

You do.

"It's going to be okay. You're a smart girl, you're going to figure it out."

You shake your head, not believing him, to the point that you're pushing away from his touch, reeling back as if you don't deserve his comfort. "No, Rafe, it's not. It's worth 20% of my grade and I can't recall a single thing. I've been studying all day and I feel like I'm about to go insane because I don't get it. I have never not gotten something this bad before."

You can't stop the tears from welling in your eyes, your bottom lip trembling. First and foremost, you can't believe you're crying over math right now but the emotions are too strong to ignore—you feel like you're about to combust.

"Baby." Rafe begins softly, taking a step forward and pulling you back in. You try to resist but his grip is too strong and you like being in his embrace. Even if you don't deserve it. "Take a breath. Come on, let's take a break."

"I can't." Your voice cracks, a tear falling down your cheek and wetting his shirt. "I actually think I'm going to fail and it scares me."

Rafe knows you always cared about your academics. Way more than he does. But, it's one of the things he admires about you. That fact that you're so smart, that you manage to fall for a guy like him. He doesn't know of any way to help in that department, but fuck if he isn't going to try.

"Alright, how about this?" Rafe pulls apart, the loss of touch causes you to whimper, but his hand tucks under your chin and lifts your gaze to meet his. "We're going to get somethin' to eat. Any place you want, I don't care how far, and I'll drive."

You open your mouth to counter but he cuts you off. "Then, we're going to come back here and I'll help you study. All night if I have to. We're going to figure this out together, okay?"

The plan sounds appealing but you're still hesitant. "You don't know anything about linear algebra."

"Fuck, baby, you can teach me." He states, causing a small smile to rise on your lips. That makes him proud. "Isn't that the best way to learn? When the student become the teacher?"

"Are you saying you're my teacher?" You tilt your head, teasing him. He loves that you're coming to yourself again.

He lowers himself to your level, stopping next to the shell of your ear. "I'm about to teach you a lesson if you don't get a move on." He murmurs, lightly slapping your ass and releasing you in one-go. You let out a little yelp, jumping back.

He tips his head to your closet. "Get change. We got shit to do."

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luvacookie · 4 months

Text

mr steal ur girl.

eren notices an unfamiliar face at one of his frat parties…

❥ warnings : reiner bein a dick, unprotected sex (wrap before u tap), nicknames, squirting, porn w a plot, intended use of lower case, mildly proof read, shy-ish reader, black fem coded.

❥ cookie for ur thoughts ? : my first post, my first aot idea >~< ! idk how people will respond to this. i need to write a lil sum sum for con, i will work on it…

“pleaseee ! you never come out with me! plus you get to be around reiner.”

pieck stared at you through the floor length mirror, adjusting her black skin tight dress as you ignored her and continued to scroll through your phone. as per usual, she was going to one of her parties hosted by her friends and as per usual she was asking you to join her.

normally you declined, opting to stay wrapped up in bed, catching up on one of your hour long k-dramas episodes or looking over work you did in a lecture.

parties were not your scene and they never had been.

“pieck… i don’t know…” you responded sceptically, curling the end of your braid around your finger.

“i can set you up with reiner, he talks about you all the time you know,” pieck said walking over to your bed.

you sighed, you knew she was just using your delusional crush on reiner to lure you in and unfortunately it was working.

you pushed your glasses up, exhaling defeatedly. pieck smiled and clapped her hands together, jumping up from the bed.

“we have to make sure you look cute as fuck so shower, skincare, makeup, whatever you need to do and by time you get out i’ll have a cute fit for you!” she said happily, digging through your clothes.

you hauled yourself out of bed, grabbing your towel and headed to the shower. you cleaned up nicely, freshening yourself up for the party. you put your braids into a half-up half-down with a side parting, laying your edges with a decorative heart.

pieck had picked out a two piece pink set for you with white string heels, you matched your accessories accordingly with pink hair clips and white glasses.

she smiled at you in awe. “you look so fuckin’ good right now! you seriously need to get out more.”

you looked down shyly, “are you sure pie’? this is so out of my zone.”

“oh my god, of course i’m sure, now come on. reiner won’t wait all night,” she giggled.

she grabbed you by the hand and dragged you to her convertible, making sure to let the top down so the warm night air hit your faces. the ride there was filled with vibes and giggles, your nerves slowly disappearing.

soon enough you arrived at the frat house, the musics blaring through all the open doors and windows. people were dancing on the lawn, cars pulled up in every direction. pieck dragged you through the crowd, stopping for a couple seconds at a time to say hi to her mutuals.

soon enough you found your way into the kitchen with her where the rest of your friend group was.

“hey guys!” pieck called out over the music and they all greeted her back.

“no fuckin’ way you brought y/n,” connie said, licking his paper and putting the blunt behind his ear.

you waved at him, smiling lightly.

“well damn, who woulda thought,” annie said from beside him, holding a red solo cup.

“she finally managed to convince me soooo…” you trailed off leaning against the counter.

“you look hot though,” sasha commented, a lazy smile on her face as if she was already high.

“mmm, cheers to that,” reiner said from behind you.

you turned around, looking him up and down. he had a simple white tee on that hugged his arms perfectly, a pair of black cargo’s with a silver chain. he handed you a cup and knocked it with yours, tipping the contents of it back.

you stared at him briefly, watching his throat move as he swallowed. you followed shortly after, pulling a face as the liquor burned your throat.

everyone spoke amongst themselves, pieck catching up on all the lost drinks, leaving you and reiner to have a sweet conversation.

“why don’t i see you out enough?” he asked, looking down at you.

you turned your head to the side, the eye contact making your stomach flip, “not really my thing.”

“they should be,” he followed up quickly, “you’re too pretty to be kept hostage in your dorm.”

you looked at him, smiling. “thanks.”

“no problem sweetheart,” he poured himself another drink, refilling yours too.

“you drink a lot?” he asked, sipping on his mix.

“not really, only when i come to these things, which is basically never,” you chuckled lightly, tasting your drink.

“i’m gonna have to force pieck to bring you out more, you’re too fuckin’ pretty darling.”

“rei, stop you’re making me feel shy,” you sighed, looking at him with obvious heart eyes.

he made a noise in his throat, a cocky smirk on his face. “dance with me?”

you stared, your brain slowly registering before you nodded. you turned to pieck, gesturing that you were going with reiner and she gave you a massive thumbs up in encouragement.

reiner took your hand in his and lead you to where the music was the loudest, putting your hands around his neck as his met your waist. he stayed with you like that for the majority of the song, his eyes holding yours.

your acrylics danced at the nape of his neck, as the grip on your waist slowly became tighter. he pulled you close enough for your chests to be touching, forcing you to look up at his height.

“are you even listening ? hellooo?”

“yeah..yeah, who’s that?” eren asked, ignoring whatever armin was saying.

armin looked around, “who?”

“her,” eren said, nodding in your direction.

“oh, y/n l/n. she’s in my english major,” armin said dismissively.

eren nodded, watching how you were slowly grinding on reiner, or realistically how your tits were moving in your dress. he had never seen you before, so how did you know reiner of all people?

as the song ended you pulled reiner down to your height, muttering something to him in which he nodded. you left the room, leaving reiner to join one of his other group of friends, though he didn’t see where you left to as porco joined him and armin.

you returned to the kitchen where connie was left on his own, tapping the ash off his blunt into the sink.

“you and reiner?” he asked, his words slightly slowed.

you poured a shot, smiling to yourself. “maybe. i don’t know.”

you tipped it back as he continued talking to you. “he likes you, you know that right?”

you reapplied your lipgloss, “does he?”

“for real, he talks about you all the time,” he inhaled slowly.

“that’s cute. i like him too,” you smiled at connie.

he exhaled and turned the roll to you, “you smoke?”

“no… i’ve only hit once before,” you admitted, staring at it.

“you don’t wanna hit that shit, probably laced,” came a deep voice from behind you.

you turned to see eren leaning on the door frame, staring at you. he was wearing simple grey sweats and a white tee, his hair pulled back into a messy bun.

“fuck off yaeger,” connie muttered, rolling his eyes, smoke exhaling his mouth with a string of cusses following.

he ignored connie, focusing his attention on you. “you’ve never been to one of these before have you?”

“do i stand out that bad?” you shook your head, the sound of your acrylic tapping the glass following.

eren walked round the counter, pouring himself straight whiskey. “oh you stand out… would’ve remembered your face.”

you tip your head to the side and glance back at connie who stares at you blankly. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“means your cute, your boyfriend is lucky,” he comments swiftly.

“my boyfriend ?” you question, toying with the curly end of your braid.

“reiner. i would think so anyways after the way you were dancing with him,” he responds, a glint in his eye as if he was digging for information.

you look up and make eye contact with him. “he’s not my boyfriend—”

“not yet anyways,” connie interrupts.

you felt your face flush, unsure if you had turned a shade of red or not. you shook your head and had another shaky shot, the alcohol seeping it’s way into your bloodstream.

“what’s your name ?” eren asks, sipping vodka straight from the bottle that was left on the counter.

“y/n,” you responded. “don’t worry, i know who you are eren.”

he tipped his head to the side slightly, he liked the way you said his name.

he hummed, continuing his drink when his friend armin entered the room.

“are reiner and annie fucking or something ?” he asks, a twinge of annoyance in his tone.

you turned to look at armin, your heart slightly dropping. “what do you mean ?”

armin looks at you as if he hadn’t registered you were in the room, “n-nothing. just the way they were talkin’ and dancing and shit..”

you were sure you felt your heart drop this time. annie and reiner ? they had never gave an indication that they liked each other.

you looked off to the side, your throat slowly going dry.

connie noticed and sighed. “they like siblings, don’t stress it.”

you nodded, “y-yeah of course, i just need some air or something.”

you used that as your cue to leave, eren’s eyes following your figure as you walked past him towards the back garden.

you were slightly embarrassed, choking up in front of three boys, two of them you barley knew. you sat on a chair in the corner, taking a shallow breath and texting pieck.

y/n : i think i’m ready to cut pie

pie 🙇🏾‍♀️💓 : y ? e oksy?

you looked at her message and knew she was drunk, yet she still tried her best to check in on you.

y/n : yh dw abt me imma jus take an uber or smthin

pie 🙇🏾‍♀️💓 : olay

pie 🙇🏾‍♀️💓 : grt home sfe iky <3333

you sighed and turned your phone off, looking at the people in the garden. you heard giggling and saw reiner and annie trip over one another, clearly having a good time with themselves.

you turned your phone on and scrolled through your missed texts when you felt a person stood behind you. you looked up and saw eren’s green eyes looking at annie and reiner.

“what a prick,” eren sighed, looking down to meet your eyes.

“it’s cool. annie’s better than me by like tenfold so i’m not really shocked,” you responded, dropping your phone in your lap.

“don’t be fuckin’ dumb, reiner’s a blind asshole. he always has been,” he comforted you. “here.”

he handed you his lit joint and you took a hesitant hit, careful not to get lipgloss all over the paper.

eren watched you as you exhaled into the air, swallowing nothing. “you good?”

you nodded, “ ‘m good.”

you guys stayed like that for a while, exchanging useless comments and smoking. eren was glad that your mood had been lifted. at some point you had ended up back in the kitchen with your group of friends, high and definitely drunk.

pieck had everyone do body shots off of her stomach and made you dance round the counter like an idiot, something you were too drunk to question.

“where’d you go?” reiner’s voice said from behind you, his arms wrapping around your shoulders.

you tensed uncomfortably, though reiner was far too gone to notice. you wriggled out of his grasp, turning around to look at him. “s-sorry, i ended up getting distracted by eren and connie.”

eren nodded at whatever words mikasa was saying, his eyes focusing on the way reiner was forcing a conversation after abandoning you to fuck around with annie.

“yaeger? what were you doing with that bastard ?” reiner said, ignoring the way you rubbed your arm rather nervously.

“n-nothing, we was jus’ talking and shi—”

“fuck that, don’t hang around with that kid,” reiner cut you off, staring at you rather annoyed.

“reiner, i’m sorry he just—”

“why shouldn’t she hang around with me ? i’d say i’m a pretty fun time,” eren said lazily, sitting on the counter beside you.

reiner glared at him, “don’t start your bullshit with me yaeger.”

“i’d say you’re starting problems with me braun, tellin’ pretty girls they should steer clear,” he responded.

eren looked unbothered whereas reiner had become rather agitated.

he ignored reiner, turning to you, “wanna go some where else ?”

you looked at reiner then at eren before nodding, following his lead and taking his hand as he lead you somewhere else.

“fuckin’ hell. rei just got his bitch stolen by yaeger,” porco muttered, reiner still heard it.

“you good princess?” eren mumbled, the sound of his door clicking shut.

“mhm, thank you,” you responded from his desk, untying your heels as he pushed himself up on his bed.

“for what?” he asked pointedly, his eyes locking with yours.

“the reiner thing—”

“anybody with working brain cells could see that you were uncomfortable, i was just helping out,” he dismissed, his hands resting behind his head.

you nodded, holding eye contact with him. the room went silent, the only sound being the tapping of your acrylics against the wood of his desk.

eren sighed, patting the cover of his bedsheets. “c’mere, you too far away.”

you let out a little laugh, hopping off his desk and standing in front of him. he grabbed you by your hands and pulled you on top of him, settling yourself on his hips. he was less than bother by the sudden added weight of your own body, his hands meeting the side of your thighs.

“you really are mad pretty,” he mumbled, squeezing the fat of your thighs that was closer to your ass.

you exhaled, turning your head to try and hide your smile. he grabbed your face and turned it back to him, his eyes hooded with lust.

you stared at him and your eyes dropped to his lips and unfortunately for you, he didn’t miss it. you took a deep breath and leaned forward, encasing eren’s lips in yours.

his hands instantly moved to your ass, squeezing roughly. he kissed you back hard, pushing his hips upwards.

your hands travelled to the back of his hair, your acrylics burying themselves in the nape of his neck. he sat up properly so he could flip you over, a shear display of his strength.

he bit at the bottom of your lip, taking advantage of the whine you let out to slip his tongue into your mouth. his hands wondered down the front of your top, though he pulled away, inspecting your face.

“why’d you stop ?” you mumbled, your eyes darting towards his swollen lips.

“nothin’, just checking to see if you’re actually sober. you alright with this though ?” he asked and you nodded eagerly, tugging at his hoodie.

he laughed. “you’re a desperate thing aren’t you.”

“eren, please,” you mumbled, pulling him forwards with more force.

“fuck. whatever you want princess,” he groaned, grabbing you by the neck and pulling you into a deeper kiss than before.

you moaned quietly as he untied the front of your shirt, revealing your lacy white bra.

“please tell me you weren’t wearing this for reiner,” he begged, rubbing on your tits.

you shook your head. “thank fuck for that.”

he pulled your skirt off, revealing your matching set, throwing the skirt somewhere in his room.

“fuck sake, y/n,” he muttered, eyes trailing the whole of your body.

you tugged at his zipper, “off, i want it off.”

he unzipped his hoodie with a chuckle, removing his shirt too, revealing his muscles. “makin’ demands now ?”

you rolled your eyes and pulled him back in for another heated kiss, your hands trailing down his body and palming his dick through his grey bottoms. he groaned, kissing you harder as you continued to stroke his growing hard-on through the material.

he pulled away and began kissing down your neck, leaving deep hickies as he went down, kissing all the way down your stomach till he got to the top of your lace thong.

he made eye contact with you as he placed a light kiss on your cover clit, watching as your mouth slightly dropped open. he pulled your panties down, stuffing them in his pocket whilst he rubbed on your clit with slow circles.

“you’re so fuckin’ wet for me right now angel. did you know that?” he asked, continuing with his agonisingly slow circles.

“mm fuck, eren, please—” you whined, your hands gripping his sheets.

“please what princess?” he teased, watching your body squirm under his touch.

you whined even louder. “fuck, i want more—” you cut yourself off with a shallow moan as he dipped his middle finger inside of you briefly before pulling it out.

“more what?” he teased.

you looked at him with round glossy eyes, “please eat me out.”

“that’s all you had to say princess,” he laughed, finally giving you what you wanted.

his tongue made contact with your clit and he licked eagerly, making his middle and ring finger stretch you out nicely.

“gotta make sure this pretty pussy is ready for my dick hm,” he mumbled on your clit, sucking on it roughly.

you babbled incoherent sentences, scratching as far as your hands could reach down his shoulders. your moans gradually increased in volume as his slender fingers worked your insides deliciously, finding that soft spot your own couldn’t reach with ease.

“f-fuck eren— feels so fuckin’ good,” you moaned gripping on his sheets harder.

just as you could feel your orgasm approaching, you could feel your phone vibrate beside you.

pieck was calling you, your thighs began to close but eren forced them back open. “answer it.”

“b-but—”

“i said answer it and be quiet.”

you looked at him before doing as he said, his fingers working harder than before.

“y/nnnn! where did you gooooo?” pieck shouted down the phone.

“i-i went with— mm-fuck, eren—” you struggled, pulling at eren’s hand.

“to do whatttt? you guys are missing the party” she yelled, giggling shortly after.

you struggled to hold back a moan as eren sucked more feverishly on your clit, “ ‘m s-sorry pie’, w-we’ll be — fuckfuck— we’ll be b-back soon.”

pieck stayed silent on the other side for a moment. “ohmygodyouanderenarefucking?!”

eren laughed, the vibrations on your clit causing you to let a loud whine slip past your mouth, one pieck definitely heard.

“OHMYGOD YOU ARE! GUYSGUYS EREN AND Y/N ARE—”

you hung up on her and threw your phone on the floor some where, focusing back on eren. “that is y-your fault.”

he pulled up and looked at you, the lower half of his face covered in your slick. “i told you to be quiet princess.”

you rolled your eyes as he continued finger fucking you, his tongue slipping to your hole every now and again.

a strange feeling built up in your stomach, making you push him away by his shoulders. “mm— eren wait, f-feels like ‘m gonna—”

his dick twitched at the thought of you squirting from him eating your pussy, so he pushed your hands away. “stop, let me finish.”

“no— eren—”

he grabbed your arms with his free hand and held them to your side, licking at your clit more needly as he could feel your cunt clenching around his fingers. “i got you princess.”

you moaned loudly and the clear liquid drenched your thighs and his sheets, eren’s fingers still working you through your orgasm.

“f-fuck, eren— please—” you moaned desperately, tears sliding down the side of your face as you tried to squeeze your thighs shut.

“give me one more, i know you can y/n,” he mumbled, pulling your thighs open as his fingers working faster, grazing your soft spot every time.

you shook your head, feeling your second orgasm approaching harder than the first one.

“fuckfuckfuck, eren please—” you came around his fingers a second time, moaning loudly.

“there you fucking go,” eren smirked, feeling your cunt squeeze him. he slipped his fingers out and kissed your clit gently before coming back up to kiss you.

“you okay princess?” he asked quietly, looking you in your eyes.

you nodded lazily, fucked out from the two orgasms he gave you. “ ‘m good.”

“good cause i’m not done with you yet,” he exhaled, kissing you again.

he pulled his bottoms down, revealing his white calvin klein boxers that hugged his straining dick.

“this is your fault,” he said mimicking the words you said to him earlier.

you ignored him and palmed at his dick, feeling it twitch under the contact. you pulled his boxers down and let it free, continuing to rub it bare.

“fuckk—” he groaned, “shit, let me get a condom—”

“i’m clean,” you interjected, “and on birth control.”

eren looked slightly taken back. “are you sure ?”

you nodded desperately, “i need you please—”

“well shit. i’m clean too don’t worry,” he reassured you.

you nodded and continued rubbing his dick.

he moaned lowly before grabbing your face, “open.”

you opened your mouth and he stuck his fingers down your throat, the same ones that had been inside you.

he pulled them out and rubbed them on his dick, mixing your spit and his pre-cum.

next time i’ll have to get head, he thinks to himself before lining his dick up with your cunt. you moan loudly as the tip slowly pushed past your pillowy walls, hugging eren tightly.

“shit—” eren cussed as he felt your nails dig into his bicep, “you’re never fuckin’ getting rid of me princess.”

he bottomed out, making you whimper. he stilled, allowing you to adjust to his length. he watched your face for any signs of discomfort before slowly moving in and out of your cunt.

“fuck eren— you feel- so good—” you babbled incoherently, clawing deep marks down his back.

he nodded, lifting your leg to put it over his shoulder to get a better angle. he increased his speed, rubbing at your clit, making you squeeze his cock.

his hips stuttered. “stop doing that, gonna make me cum.”

“i want you to cum in me though,” you said, looking at him through your lashes.

eren scoffed and went deeper, thanks to the angle his tip kept assaulting your sweet spot.

you whimpered, “fuck eren— gonna cum—”

“no you’re not. hold it,” he grunted, gripping your hips and pulling you down to meet his base.

“eren,” you whined.

his pacing slowed down, his thrusts becoming sloppier as he neared his high.

“fuck— princess, i’m gonna cum—” he muttered into your ankle, nibbling slightly.

you squeezed around him at the sensations. he let out a deep moan, his cum painting the insides of your pussy white.

you came as you felt him empty inside of you, digging a crescent shape into his back.

“f-fuck,” you mumbled, watching him pull his dick out.

you whined at the empty feeling, though eren chose to ignore it. “imma be back.”

he picked his boxers up from the floor and pulled them on, walking to his bathroom. he walked out with a warm cloth, gently wiping the insides of your thigh.

“is your back okay? i noticed all the scratches and some were kinda bleeding…” you said sympathetically.

“don’t worry about me, i’ve had worse,” he smiled.

when he finished he put it on his desk and walked back over to you, kissing you gently.

“you good princess?”

you nodded dazed, causing eren to chuckle. he pulled you up and helped you get dressed, allowing you to fix your makeup and hair.

when you left his bedroom the party was still full swing, people dancing and drinking.

“ayeee ! there they are,” porco called out, clapping eren on the back when he sat next to him.

you were about to walk off to sit with pieck and sasha when eren grabbed your hand and pulled you into his lap.

you looked at him confused when he muttered in your ear. “didn’t i tell you you’re never getting rid of me ?”

you were sure this time you were blushing, especially when he kissed the dark hickey on your neck.

“alright, we get it, you fucked, get a room,” sasha fake gagged, giggling after.

eren made eye contact with reiner. “she won’t be able to walk next time we get a room.”

#💌: alexies letters.#connie x reader #eren aot #eren yaeger x reader #black y/n #aot smut #smut #aot #aot x reader #aot x black reader #eren smut

1K notes · View notes

midastouch013 · 24 days

Text

Scars and All

Based on this request

Summary: You and Natasha have been dating for almost a year, and so what happens when you finally find out why things never get steamy

Warnings: Insecurity, Scars, Flashbacks of Redroom. Super soft Nat.

---

You and Natasha had been dating for close to a year now, having moved in a month ago to the floor Tony had given the both of you happy to see his, and you quote ' favourite spider' so in love, and though your relationship was incredible in so many ways, there was one aspect that sometimes caused a bit of frustration. Every time things got a little bit steamy, Natasha would freeze up. And every time it left you confused, more than before with every occurrence.

It happened again tonight. You were tangled up in each other, lips locked in a passionate kiss, hands exploring, when Natasha suddenly pulled back, her breath uneven.

"Stop," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

You froze, your heart pounding. You were frustrated, sure, but you respected Natasha enough to honor her wishes. With a heavy sigh, you pulled away, trying to hide your disappointment.

"Are you okay?" you asked softly, concern evident in your voice.

She nodded, avoiding your gaze. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just… not feeling it right now."

You couldn't help but feel disappointed, but you didn't want to show it. Instead, you forced a small smile and said, "Okay. I'm just gonna… take a cold shower then."

Without waiting for a response, you got up and made your way to the bathroom, leaving Natasha alone on the bed.

The cold water did little to wash away your disappointment. You couldn't shake the feeling of frustration, unable to understand why Natasha kept pulling away.

After what felt like an eternity under the icy spray, you finally turned off the water and stepped out of the shower. As you dried off and got dressed, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong.

When you emerged from the bathroom, you found Natasha lost in her own world, her eyes unfocused as she begged someone she had only told you about once, Madame B, not to hit her.

Your heart broke at the sight. You knew Natasha was reliving a moment from her past, a nightmare from her time in the Red Room. Without a second thought, you crossed the room and enveloped her in a tight hug, hoping to ground her in the present, having it done many times previously.

"Nat, it's me," you whispered, your voice soft and soothing. "You're safe now. You're with me."

Slowly, Natasha's breathing began to steady, and the tension in her body started to ease. She clung to you, burying her face in the crook of your neck as she struggled to break free from the memories that haunted her.

You held her close, whispering words of comfort and reassurance until she finally began to relax in your arms.

After Natasha falls asleep in your arms, you gently tuck her under the covers, making sure she's comfortable. With a lingering glance, you quietly slip out of the room, closing the door softly behind you.

You make your way downstairs and pull out your phone, dialing Yelena's number. She picks up after a couple of rings.

"Hey," she says, her voice filled with concern. "Is everything okay?"

You hesitate for a moment, not sure how to explain what just happened with Natasha.

"Not really," you admit, your voice barely above a whisper. "Nat had a flashback… to the Red Room, I think."

There's a pause on the other end of the line before Yelena speaks again. "Is she okay now?"

"Yeah, she's sleeping," you reply. "But… I don't know what to do, Yelena. Every time things start to get… intimate, she freezes up. I can't shake the feeling that it's connected somehow."

There's a thoughtful silence before Yelena speaks again. "Does my sestra shower with the door closed?"

You frown, confused by the seemingly random question. "Uh, yeah, she does. Why?"

Yelena hums thoughtfully. "And does she ever… mention anything about about her post-missions "

Your heart skips a beat as the pieces start to click into place. "No, she doesn't even let me see her till she's in pajamas. Why?"

Yelena lets out a heavy sigh. "Look, I think… Y/n, you're pretty smart, so I'm surprised I have to be telling you this, but my sister is insecure about something. And maybe, just maybe, that's why she keeps pulling away."

"But what insecurity?" you question," She-"

Before you can say anything else, Yelena interrupts you. "Sorry, I have to go. Kate's calling me. Just… be there for her, okay? She needs you."

After Yelena hangs up, more incidents with Natasha flash through your mind. Little moments that, when looked at together, begin to form a pattern. And suddenly, it hits you like a ton of bricks. Natasha's insecurity is about her scars.

Just as you're connecting the dots, Natasha comes downstairs to grab something to eat. Wordlessly, you grab her by the hips and lift her up.

"Hey, what are you doing?" she squeals, trying to wriggle out of your grasp.

Ignoring her protests, you carry her back upstairs to your room. Once there, you gently set her down on the edge of the bed, ignoring her playful protests.

"Okay, seriously, what's going on?" she asks, confusion evident in her voice.

You don't answer right away. Instead, you kneel down on the floor in front of her, taking her hands in yours.

"Tasha, I love you," you begin, your voice steady. "And I want you to know that you can talk to me about anything. I know… I know that something happened tonight, something that triggered a flashback. And I think… I think I know what it is."

Natasha's eyes widen in surprise, and for a moment, she looks like she might bolt. But then she takes a deep breath and meets your gaze.

"You do?" she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

You nod, squeezing her hands gently while taking a deep breath, trying to find the right words to say. "Natasha, do you not like your scars?" you ask gently.

Natasha's defenses go up immediately, and she tries to deflect the situation with humor. "What, these old things?" she says, gesturing to her scars with a forced smirk. "Just battle wounds, nothing to worry about."

But you're firm in your resolve. You don't let her deflect this time. "Nat, please," you say, your voice pleading. "I need you to be honest with me."

She sighs, the forced smile slipping from her face. "Fine," she says, her voice barely above a whisper. "Fine, you want the truth? I hate them, okay? I hate the way they look. I hate what they remind me of."

Your heart breaks at her words, but you keep your voice steady. "Why, Nat? Why do you hate them so much?"

And then she confesses, her words tumbling out in a rush. "Because I'm afraid, okay? I'm afraid that when you see them, you'll finally realize that you're dating a monster. A cold-blooded murderer. I'm afraid that you'll look at me and see nothing but a killer. And I love you so much, and I don't want to lose you. But I'm afraid that these scars will scare you away. That I don't look… sexy with my scars and all."

Tears fill her eyes as she speaks, and you feel your heart breaking all over again.

You feel a surge of anger and hurt at Natasha's admission. How could she think of herself like that? And how could she think that you would ever see her that way?

"You really think that?" you say, your voice coming out a bit harsher than you intended. "That I would see you like that? That I would ever think of you as a monster? God, Natasha, how could you even think that?"

Natasha flinches at your words, and for a moment, you regret the harshness of your tone. But then you take a deep breath and soften your voice.

"I'm sorry, It wasn't supposed to sound so rude, but… I get it, Nat," you continue, your voice gentle now. "I get that you're scared. And I understand why you feel that way. Even if I've not been through what you've been through, I'd like to think that I get it. But you need to know that I love you, scars and all. And I would never, ever think of you as anything less than amazing."

You feel Natasha's arms tighten around you, and you know that she's listening, really listening, to what you're saying.

"And another thing," you add, your voice firm now. "You need to stop calling yourself those hateful things. You are not a monster, Natasha. You are not a cold-blooded murderer. You are a hero, you are the role model to millions of kids out there, and you're my girlfriend. There's no way in hell could you be what you claim to be. Don't you ever forget that."

Natasha doesn't say anything in response, and for a moment, you worry that you've pushed her too far. But then she pulls back slightly, her eyes meeting yours.

"Thank you," she whispers, her voice barely above a whisper. "Thank you for… for loving me, scars and all."

You shush her with a gentle finger to her lips. " What have I told you about that?" you ask in a tutting tone.

She chuckled breathily, a faint smile on her face " Never thank you unless I don't want dinner that night"

You look into Natasha's eyes, your heart overflowing with love and reassurance. Without saying a word, you lift her (Well yours, but anything that was yours was hers) t-shirt and leant in to press a gentle kiss to one of her scars, then another, and another, until you'd kissed each one.

Each kiss is an act of reassurance, a silent declaration of how beautiful and attractive you find her scars. And with each kiss, you feel Natasha's tension slowly melting away, replaced by a sense of peace and acceptance.

When you finally pull back, Natasha is looking at you with tear-filled eyes, a small smile playing at the corners of her lips.

"I love you" she whispers, her voice filled with emotion.

" I love you more"

"Willing to bet on it?"

#avengers #natasha romanoff #black widow #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanov #natasha x reader #natasha x you #anon ask #anonymous #natasha romanoff hurt/comfort #natasha x y/n #natasha marvel #yelena and natasha

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eideticallys · 1 year

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The Dangers of Tennis Skirts

request: based on this.

pairing: spencer reid x reader

summary: “you know, reid,” you said, “guys ask girls out on a date before they bury their faces into their thighs.”

genre: fluff

word count: 817

author's notes: this is my first ever blurb! i wrote this to practice writing blurbs & writing this was so fun. also, i hope anon doesn’t mind that i wrote this with a fem!reader in mind & reader noticing spencer getting flustered. i just think it would be a lot funnier that way. thank you for this cute request, anon! i got to practice writing blurbs and it's about shy!spencer? a win for me! i hope you'll love this ♡ also posted on ao3 (spencereids).

“REID, YOU OKAY?” Morgan asked the younger male.

Despite his blatant intelligence and many talents, Spencer Reid is just a man. And just like any hot-blooded guy out there who is interested in exploring the curves and dips of a woman’s body, Spencer can’t help but have his IQ slashed down to sixty, or whatever it was Emily said before. And unfortunately for him, hiding the effect of seeing you in a short, white tennis skirt for the first time is not one of Spencer’s talents.

“Yep,” Spencer said, popping the p as he tried to stop his ogling—cue the word, stop—but failed magnanimously, eyes wide, pulse racing, and mouth gaping.

Morgan frowned at the doctor's weird behavior. Usually, when asked how he is, Spencer would go on tangents that would be relevant to the conversation at hand. A single Yep! would not suffice for the boy genius.

Something is going on with him, Morgan thought.

Worried but still weirded out by Spencer, Morgan followed his line of sight and guffawed at what he found. You just entered the bullpen in a fluffy beige sweater, a white tennis skirt, and with your hair tied with a white ribbon.

"Oh, pretty boy," Morgan exclaimed between chuckles. "You are hopeless!"

"Who's hopeless?" Garcia, who just sat on one of the chairs available, interjected.

Morgan continued chuckling and motioned to Spencer, whose eyes were about to fall out of their sockets, and then pointed at you just entering the area. Garcia gasped in happiness. She always thought you and boy genius would make the perfect couple.

And like Spencer, Garcia has many talents. One of which is playing Cupid.

Making the most out of Spencer’s inattentiveness—busy staring at you—Garcia made quick work of calling you over to talk about your cute outfit.

“Hey, Y/N!” Garcia blurted out. “I love LOVE your outfit. We all do.”

She made sure to gesture at Morgan and definitely at Spencer. “Right, boy genius?”

This interrupted Spencer in reverie and unfortunately for him, he’s not the most subtle when he’s back from being lost in thought.

“Are you okay, Reid?” You asked, none the wiser at the obvious display of Spencer getting distracted by your outfit, specifically, your skirt.

Spencer’s eyes widened at your concern. Frightened you’d find out the reason he was dazed was because of you, he instantly stood up from his seat, failing to notice that an electric cord was stuck beneath the chair. And with his quick scrambling, coupled with the fact that his reflexes are akin to that of a toddler just learning to walk, Spencer ended up falling face-first into the floor.

At his clumsiness, Morgan snickered loudly, earning him a slap from Garcia with a matching, “You are not helping at all!” And a glare from you to which he raised his arms in defeat. You held your palm out for Spencer to reach, who was busy trying to dust off his pants, not noticing it was you helping him up until he looked up.

Aside from talents, Spencer was blessed with the gift of hard luck. And unfortunately for him, it seemed his hard luck always tripled in front of a pretty girl—you. Because instead of looking into your eyes when he looked up, his eyes landed on the plush softness of your thighs, which you haven’t failed to notice.

Spencer never wanted to dig a hole and jump in it so badly before today.

You were already giggling, cheeks reddening at the thought of your effect on the genius. Imagine reducing a cute guy with an IQ of 187 and an eidetic memory to a clumsy mess on the floor. Quite flattering, especially if he happened to be the guy you have been crushing on for quite some time now. Not that he knew that, of course. But a girl has gotta take her chances, right? And what better way to tease the hell out of your crush than when he was face-first into your thighs?

“You know, Reid,” You said coolly, “Guys ask girls out on a date before they bury their faces into their thighs.”

Spencer’s eyes bulged out even more while Morgan was belly laughing at this point, Garcia right behind him, giggling in delight.

“I-I uh,” Spencer began to ramble, trying to come up with a tangent that could get him out of this mess, failing to remember that just like him, you were gifted with many talents as well. And that is making the most out of an unfortunate—not unfortunate, your crush is face first on your thighs!—situation.

“Sorry, Spence,” You chortled, ruffling his hair. “You’re not getting out of this one. We are going out after this case.”

This got Morgan falling out of his chair in laughter, Garcia giggling along, and Spencer’s pinkened cheeks resembling an actual tomato with their redness.

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lilsmv1 · 2 months

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orange cat - OP81

Pairing: Oscar Piastri x reader

Summary: What happens your neighbour's adorable orange cat starts to pay you daily visits?

Word count: 1k

London welcomed me with its perpetually gray skies and damp weather, a stark contrast to the sunny shores of California I had left behind. As I settled into my new apartment, I couldn't help but feel a pang of homesickness for the warmth of home.

For the first few weeks, I hardly saw my neighbours, lost in the shuffle of unpacking and adjusting to my new surroundings. But one persistent visitor soon made himself known – a vibrant orange cat that would perch itself on my windowsill, peering into my living room with curious eyes.

At first, I found it amusing, but as the days went by and the cat became a regular fixture, I grew concerned. Surely, someone must be missing their furry friend. So, I decided to take matters into my own hands.

I scribbled a quick note on a yellow post-it, explaining the situation and tucking it under my neighbor's door. "Your cat seems to be visiting me often," I wrote. "Just wanted to let you know in case you're worried."

Days passed, and I received no response. I wondered if my neighbor had even seen the note or if they simply didn't care about their wandering pet.

But then, one evening, there was a soft knock on my door.

Opening the door, I found myself face to face with a handsome young man, his expression sheepish yet friendly. He held a small box in his hands, the smell of freshly baked pastries wafting from within.

"Hey, sorry to bother you," he began, his accent unmistakably Australian. "I'm Oscar, your neighbor from next door. I just wanted to apologize for my cat bothering you. And, well, to say thank you for looking out for him."

I couldn't help but smile at his genuine demeanor. "No problem at all, your cat is lovely, I was simply worried you might wonder where he was" I replied, accepting the box of pastries. "I'm glad to finally meet you, Oscar" I replied, introducing myself as well.

"Do you maybe wanna come in? I can make us some tea or coffee and we could eat the pastries you brought?" I added.

"I would love that!" replied Oscar with a warm smile.

From that moment on, Oscar and I struck up an unexpected friendship. We bonded over our shared love for his cat and baked goods, finding comfort in each other in the big city of London, so far from our respective homes. Oscar told me all about his work as a Formula One driver, and I could not help but be in awe of how passionate he was. I, on the other end, told him about the teaching opportunity that got me to move here, and I would often tell him cute stories from my classroom.

As weeks turned into months, our friendship deepened. Oscar proved to be not only a generous neighbor but also a reliable friend. Whether it was helping me fix a leaky faucet or lending a hand with heavy groceries, he was always there when I needed him.

Our weekly movie nights, whenever Oscar wasn't out of the country, became a cherished tradition, a welcome break from our everyday lives. We'd take turns picking films, debating over classics and hidden gems late into the night.

But amidst the laughter and camaraderie, I couldn't ignore the growing feeling in my chest whenever I saw Oscar. He was kind, funny, and undeniably attractive – qualities that drew me in despite my best efforts to keep my distance.

One day, as I scrolled through Twitter during a lazy afternoon, I stumbled upon something that caught me off guard. Pictures of Oscar, smiling brightly alongside a beautiful girl with long blonde hair.

A pang of jealousy shot through me, surprising in its intensity. I realised then, with startling clarity, that my feelings for Oscar ran deeper than I had initially thought. But it was too late – I was now pretty sure he was already taken, and I had no right to interfere.

Unable to shake off my newfound jealousy, I began to distance myself from Oscar, avoiding our usual interactions and retreating into solitude. But my sudden coldness did not go unnoticed.

One evening, there was a sharp knock on my door, and when I opened it, there stood Oscar, his expression a mixture of frustration and concern.

"What's going on with you?" he demanded, his voice tinged with hurt. "You've been acting strange lately, and I want to know why."

"I'm not" I replied defensively.

"Come on, don't give me that bullshit" replied a rather angry Oscar. "You've been avoiding me. Have I done something?" he asked, his voice laced with vulnerability.

I hesitated, the weight of my emotions heavy in the air between us. But then, with a surge of courage, I found myself blurting out the truth.

"I... I think I'm in love with you, Oscar," I confessed, my voice barely above a whisper. "And seeing you with someone else... it hurts more than I thought it would."

For a moment, there was silence, the tension palpable. But then, to my surprise, Oscar stepped forward, his eyes burning with intensity.

"God, you can be so dense sometimes" he breathed

"Hum, excuse me?" I replied, clearly offended.

"The girl you're talking about, that's my new PR manager."

"Oh..."

"I thought I was being fairly obvious as to how I feel about you." he said softly, reaching out to cup my face in his hands.

And with that, he closed the distance between us, his lips meeting mine in a heated and passionate kiss, leaving me breathless.

#oscar piastri #op81 #op81 x reader #op81 imagine #op81 fluff #op81 fic #formula 1 #formula one #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #f1 #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri fic #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fluff

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signoferoda · 12 days

Text

THE LOVE WE LEFT BEHIND

summary: a fic based on this post by @harrysblackcoat about ex husband!harry

The bustling aisles of the supermarket were crowded with shoppers, each lost in their own little world of grocery lists and meal plans. Among them, Harry navigated with practiced ease, a small smile playing on his lips as he tossed items into his basket. He glanced at his watch, noting the time. It wouldn't do him any favours being late for their weekly family dinner.

These weekly family dinners were something he cherished, a remnant of the time when things were simpler between him and y/n. Even though they were no longer together, they both agreed to keep the routine for the sake of the kids—and perhaps, for themselves as well.

As Harry scanned the shelves, his eyes landed on a familiar sight. There, nestled among the other sweets, was Y/N's favourite chocolate. Without a second thought, he reached out and grabbed a few bars, adding them to his basket, ignoring the pang of longing in his chest. It was a small gesture, but one that brought a smile to his face, nonetheless. Friendly, he told himself. Just a friendly gesture.

He continued down the aisle, picking up the last few items on the list y/n had sent him when he told her he was popping into Tescos before meeting her at her house. As he turned the corner to the checkout, he couldn't help but think about Y/N. It had been months since their divorce, but the feelings he had for her hadn't diminished. If anything, seeing her every week only made him realise how much he still loved her.

With the groceries bagged and paid for, Harry headed to his car. The drive to Y/N's house was a short one, but it gave him enough time to replay the memories of their time together. The laughter, the late-night talks, the way she used to cuddle up to him on the couch. He sighed, pushing those thoughts away as he pulled into her driveway.

Y/N opened the door before he could knock, a warm smile on her face. "Hey, come on in."

"Hey," he replied, stepping inside and handing her the bags. "Got everything on the list."

She glanced through the bags and paused when she saw the chocolates. "Harry, you didn't have to—"

"I know," he interrupted, his heart beating a little faster. "I saw them and thought of you."

Y/N's heart fluttered at his words, her resolve wavering for a moment.

But then she remembered why they were no longer together-the hurt, the betrayal, the shattered dreams-and she pushed the thought aside.

"Thanks," she said, forcing a smile as she took her seat at the table.

As they moved to the kitchen to put away the groceries, their 4 year old daughter, Blair, came running in. "Daddy!" she squealed, wrapping her small arms around Harry's legs.

Harry scooped her up, laughing. "Hey, my buzzing bee! Missed you."

Blair grinned, his eyes sparkling with excitement. "Missed you too, Daddy."

Y/N watched them, a fond expression on her face. Seeing Harry with their children always tugged at her heartstrings. Despite everything, he was an amazing father, and she couldn't deny the connection they all still shared.

"How's Rosa?" Harry asked, referring to their other daughter.

"She's upstairs napping," Y/N replied. "Should be up soon."

"Good," he said, setting Blair down. "I can't wait to see her."

As they all sat down for dinner after Blair woke up, Harry found himself stealing glances at Y/N. She looked beautiful as always, her laughter lighting up the room. He missed the days when that laughter was for him, when their life was uncomplicated and full of love. But those days were gone, and he had to accept that.

After dinner, as they cleared the table, Harry noticed Y/N sneaking a piece of the chocolate he'd bought. She caught his eye and smiled, a small, private moment that made his heart ache.

"Thanks again for the chocolates," she said quietly.

"Anytime," he replied, wishing he could say more, wishing he could tell her how much he still loved her.

But as the evening drew to a close, Harry knew he had to leave sooner or later. He helped tuck Rosa and Blair into bed. He read them a story, their little faces glowing with happiness. It was moments like these that made everything worth it, even if it was bittersweet. They needed stability, and he wasn't going to let his personal feelings between their mum get in the way.

When it was finally time for him to leave, he lingered at the door, hesitating. Y/N walked him out, the night air cool and crisp around them.

"Thanks for coming," she said, her voice soft.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world," he replied, looking into her eyes. "You know that."

She nodded, and for a brief moment, it felt like old times. Like they were a team again, facing the world together. But the moment passed, and reality set back in.

"Goodnight, Harry," she said, stepping back.

"Goodnight, Y/N," he replied, turning to leave. As he walked to his car, he couldn't help but glance back one last time. She stood in the doorway, watching him, and he wondered if maybe, just maybe, there was still a chance for them.

Driving away, Harry resolved to keep trying. He wasn't ready to give up on her, on their family. He'd keep coming to these dinners, keep being there for the kids, and keep loving her from afar. Because sometimes, love was about persistence, about holding on even when everything seemed lost.

***

A few weeks had passed since that family dinner, and Harry had found himself thinking about Y/N more often than usual. He was determined to win her back, no matter how long it took. The family dinners had become a regular reminder of what they once had, and each time he left her house, he felt a renewed sense of purpose. He knew it wasn't going to be easy, but he was willing to fight for the woman he loved.

One evening, as he was about to head out for their weekly dinner, his phone buzzed with a message from Y/N.

Y/N: Hey, can you come over a bit earlier for dinner tonight? Blair has been asking about you all day.

Harry smiled at his phone, feeling a warmth spread through his chest. He quickly typed back a response.

Harry: Of course. I'll be there in an hour. Kiss the kids for me

He grabbed his keys and headed out, a sense of excitement bubbling up inside him. It wasn't just about seeing the kids; it was about seeing Y/N. Every moment with her was precious, even if it was just for a short while.

When he arrived at Y/N's house, she greeted him at the door with a warm smile. "Hey, come on in. Blair is in the living room, and Rosa is finishing up her nap."

Harry stepped inside, shaking off the rain from his coat. "Thanks for inviting me early."

"Of course," she said, leading him to the living room. "Blair has been looking forward to seeing you."

As soon as Blair saw Harry, her face lit up. "Daddy!" She shouted, running into his arms.

"Hey, bee!" Harry lifted her up, spinning her around before setting her down. "How's my big girl doing?"

Blair giggled, clinging to Harry's leg. "Good! We made cookies today!"

Y/N smiled, watching them. "Yes, we did. And they're cooling in the kitchen if you want to try one."

"I'd love to," Harry said, following Y/N to the kitchen with Blair still attached to his leg.

In the kitchen, the smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air. Harry couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia. This used to be their life, their home filled with the simple joys of family. Harry remembers standing in that very kitchen, late at night, answering Y/N's pregnancy cravings so many times he's lost count. They used to joke that Blair inherited a sweet tooth because all Y/N wanted during her pregnancy were the homemade cookies Harry used to bake.

"They smell amazing," Harry said, reaching for a cookie. He took a bite and closed his eyes, savouring the taste. "These are perfect."

Y/N laughed softly. "Glad you like them."

As they stood there, enjoying the cookies and each other's company, Harry felt a sudden impulse to speak up. He wanted to tell her how much he missed her, how much he wanted them to be a family again. But before he could find the words, Amelia's cries echoed from the nursery.

"I'll get her," Y/N said, giving Harry an apologetic look.

"No, let me," Harry offered, already heading towards the nursery.

Y/N hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Okay, thanks."

Harry walked into the nursery, his heart swelling at the sight of his baby girl. Rosa’s big, tear-filled eyes met his, and she instantly stopped crying, reaching out for him. He scooped her up, holding her close. "Hey there, princess. Daddy's here."

Rosa nestled into his shoulder, her tiny fingers clutching his shirt. Harry rocked her gently, humming a lullaby. Moments like these reminded him of the preciousness of family and how much he wanted to be there for every little moment.

When he returned to the living room with Rosa in his arms, he found Blair playing with a puzzle on the floor. “Where’s your mum love?” He asked, setting Rosa down onto the carpet.

“In the kitchen” Blair replied, reaching for another piece of her puzzle.

“Keep an eye on your sister, bee. I’ll be right back” Harry requested as he began making his way to the kitchen. Y/n was stood by the stove, checking on the stir fry she was making.

"Do you need any help?" he offered, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

Y/N glanced at him, her expression softening. "Sure, you can dry the dishes. The cookies made a right mess" she chuckled softly making Harry smile as he walked over to the dishes.

They worked in companionable silence, the sizzling of the stir fry and clinking of the dishes being the only sounds filling the room. Harry stole a few glances at Y/N, her profile bathed in the soft glow of the setting sun. She looked serene, but he could see the faint lines of worry etched on her face, lines he knew were partly his doing.

As he dried the last dish, Harry finally spoke. "Y/N, there's something I need to tell you."

Y/N looked up, meeting his gaze. "What is it, Harry?"

He took a deep breath, his heart pounding in his chest. "I know I've made mistakes. Big ones. And I know I hurt you. But these past months, spending time with you and the kids, it's reminded me of how much I still love you."

Y/N's eyes widened, surprise and confusion flickering across her face. "Harry, I..."

"Please, just hear me out," he interrupted, his voice earnest. "I know I can't change the past, but I want to make things right. I want us to be a family again. Not just for the kids, but for us. Because I love you, Y/N. I never stopped loving you."

Tears welled up in Y/N's eyes as she listened to his words. She had built walls around her heart to protect herself from the pain, but now those walls were crumbling. She had missed him too—their shared moments, the way he made her feel safe and loved.

"I don't know, Harry," she said, her voice barely above a whisper. "I need time to think."

Harry nodded, understanding the gravity of her words. "Take all the time you need. I'll wait for you, Y/N. No matter how long it takes."

***

One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the world, Y/N found herself standing outside Harry's house. Her heart raced as she rang the doorbell, her mind swirling with thoughts and emotions.

When Harry opened the door, his eyes widened in surprise and hope. "Y/N, what are you doing here?"

She took a deep breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "I've been doing a lot of thinking, Harry. And I've realised something important."

Harry's expression was a mixture of hope and fear. "What is it?"

"I realised that I never stopped loving you either," she confessed, her voice shaking. "We have a lot of things to work through, and it's not going to be easy. But I want to try. I want us to be a family again."

A slow, relieved smile spread across Harry's face as he stepped forward, pulling her into a tight embrace. "You have no idea how happy that makes me, Y/N. I promise I'll do everything I can to make things right."

Tears of joy streamed down Y/N's face as she held onto him, feeling the warmth and comfort of his embrace. For the first time in a long while, she felt a glimmer of hope for the future.

#harry styles fanfiction #harry styles writing #dad!harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #dad!harry #harry styles angst

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ktgoodmorning · 2 months

Text

The Wall

Mapi Leon x Teen!Reader

Inspired by the song "The Wall" by GroupLove

“Just sitting on a wall, always trying to do it all” “Really wanna get away, to where I couldn’t say” “Yeah we got lucky, fell into place” “We found some friends, some stayed some passed away”

A/N: The timeline is a little funky, I know Leila didn't leave in the middle of the season but we're gonna pretend for the sake of the story. Even though I posted the lyric, nobody dies, just overall angsty, more parts to come.

Masterlist

“You ready to go, amiga?” Mapi shouted across the house at you even though she already knew the answer. You were always ready long before she or Ingrid ever were. It wasn’t unusual for you to be up extra early to start your day with a run or at the very least, a long walk. At only 19, you hadn’t been playing with the senior team long and wanted to do everything you possibly could to prove yourself, even if it meant getting up at four in the morning.

When you’d been called up to the senior team, Mapi and Ingrid had insisted that you move into their spare room to help you get adjusted until you settled in better. Originally, they had pitched the idea in order to make sure you were taking care of yourself and doing everything you needed to to be successful with the team. They had no idea how prepared you already were. Still, many of the older girls had taken you under their wing, Mapi more than anyone. She was highly protective of you and was always making sure you were doing okay, even if you didn’t normally need it. They rarely had to do much, as you were one of the hardest working members of the team.

Some might call you a perfectionist, type A, or maybe a bit obsessive, but what you were doing was working. You would do anything it took to be the best footballer you could possibly be. Getting up early was just the start. You were always eating as healthy as possible with very few cheat days. You had done plenty of research on nutrition and everything you needed to eat (and not eat) to perform at your best so you always stuck to that. You often watched film from each game at least two to three times beyond what the team watched in training. That was your favorite way to improve yourself when your body really needed a break from training. It wasn’t a lot but it was everything you needed. Everything you needed to be enough.

You grabbed your bag and joined Mapi and Ingrid in heading to the car to go to training. Ingrid sat down in the driver’s seat while Mapi plugged in her phone to play some music that you didn’t even recognize. As you sat in the backseat, you were slightly lost in thought, thinking of what you needed to work on today. Speed and endurance were always something you tried to improve but maybe it was more important today to focus on your passing accuracy but also you needed to work on your shooting or maybe-

“Hey did you hear me?” Your thoughts were interrupted as Ingrid snapped you back into the real world.

“Hmm? Sorry.” You mumbled as you gathered your thoughts back to focus on the two girls in front of you. “What’d you say?”

“Leila said you were going with her after training? Is that right?” Of course you were forgetting something- your dinner plans with Leila. You sighed gently, trying to straighten out your schedule in your head.

“Oh, umm, yeah. We wanted to go to this new restaurant. I guess I forgot.” Because she was sitting in front of you, you missed the way Ingrid’s brow furrowed at the lack of enthusiasm in your response. Leila had become like a fun older sister to you. The two of you got dinner together at least once a week and were typically causing some sort of trouble during training. She kept you from taking yourself too seriously, worried that if you went unchecked you’d spiral under the amount of pressure you placed on yourself. Like many of the older girls, she had taken it upon herself to protect you. It was different with Leila because she treated you as more of an equal rather than a child. Because of this, everyone knew how much you cherished your time with her.

Mapi took the opportunity to lightly tease you for your weird behavior, “don’t get too excited there, chica.” She turned to look at you, trying to gauge your reaction to her comment.

It didn’t offend you, although you still didn’t laugh. You just weren’t really bothered by the comment at all. “Sorry, just thinking about other stuff.”

The older two girls had let it go, changing the subject as you got closer to the training grounds. You missed the look of nervousness shared between the two of them as you got lost in your thoughts once again.

You remained focused all throughout training, focusing on the things you needed to improve- speed, endurance, strength, passing, shooting, accuracy- the list in your head was miles long. Anytime the other girls would joke around, they knew you typically needed some coaxing to join in. However anytime one of your closer friends would get you in on it, that’s usually all it took. Leila was your weak spot, sometimes Pina too. They were always able to break down your walls of focus and seriousness and allow yourself to have a little fun. If it weren’t for them (and the rest of your team’s antics), everyone knew you’d sink into your perfectionism even further.

As you walked off the field at the end of the session, it was Pina that spoke to you first. “Hey, some of us are going out tomorrow night, you’re in right?”

Your face contorted with uncertainty, torn between the idea of having fun with your friends for a night and knowing you could use the sleep to prepare for Sunday's match.

Suddenly, an arm wrapped around your shoulders and you instantly recognized it as Leila’s, “Si, she’ll be there. Even if I have to drag her out myself.”

Well there was your answer. You gave the two girls a shrug, knowing you’d enjoy the time out with them. A little relaxation couldn’t hurt, right? You deserved it after how hard you had been working so far this season. And just because you went out didn’t mean you had to drink yourself into oblivion. You’d still be plenty prepared for the next match. As you all got ready to leave, Claudia filled you in on the plans, making you look forward to the night even more.

There was a newfound lightness in your step as you followed Leila to her car and went to the restaurant for dinner. You were excited for tomorrow night with everyone. It had been awhile since you’d let your guard down and just had fun for a night so you knew it’d be good for you. You knew how much you needed it and were thankful your friends were able to give you the little push you needed to agree. You were thankful for your friends until you got to dinner with Leila and learned the true reasons behind the night out.

You were sitting across from her, in the corner of the small restaurant when she broke the news to you- she’d be transferring to Manchester. The party tomorrow night was to have one last celebration together before she left. Instantly your chest tightened. She continued talking, explaining why it was a good decision and that she’d always be there to support you no matter how far away she was. However none of this registered to you. The second she said the words, you quit processing anything else.

Manchester? Why Manchester? How could she leave Barcelona? How could she leave you? She always said you were like family but you don’t just leave your family behind. Was Barcelona not good enough for her anymore? Or worse yet, did she not think she was good enough for Barcelona? If that was the case, how could you ever be good enough for Barca? Or for Leila for that matter? If you were a good enough “sister” to her, she would have no reason to want to leave, to go so far away.

Leila managed to pull you out of your thoughts when she reached across the table to hold your hand. “Hey, take a breath, it’s okay. You can still call me whenever you need anything, I’ll still come visit. You’ll be okay, I promise.”

She squeezed your hand tightly, trying to get you to meet her eyes, but you just couldn’t do it. You knew she had talked about not renewing her contract but you clearly had been too naive to think it could actually happen. Suddenly it hit you that other people must have already known. If Claudia had already had the time to plan a party, when did she find out about this? Had you been the last to find out?

“(y/n),” she squeezed your hand again, tighter this time, getting concerned at how you still had yet to respond.

Suddenly you were snapped back into reality, shaking your head quickly, “I’ve gotta go, I’m sorry.” Leila could hardly hear you as you mumbled, barely coherent. Frantically, you had pushed away from the table and made your way towards the door. You were almost running as you finally made it outside.

The cool evening air hit you hard. It helped you steady your breathing slightly, feeling less choked by the air of the restaurant. You didn’t notice how much your hands were shaking until you grabbed your phone to call Mapi, hoping she could pick you up.

In the time it took you to unlock your phone and pull up her contact, Leila appeared next to you. “Don’t be ridiculous, chiquita. I will drive you, come on.” She grabbed your hand before you had the chance to argue and led you to her car. Her silence was unusual but you hardly noticed, consumed by your thoughts.

Her heart broke when she saw your reaction. Obviously Leila knew you’d be upset but she couldn’t have imagined you’d take it this hard. The Spaniard was consumed with guilt as she tried her best to focus on the road ahead. It had crossed her mind that maybe she should have told you sooner but she wanted to make sure it was completely finalized first. You’d have other people that could step into her role when she was gone, people that would make sure you’d be taken care of. And like she said, she’d still be just a phone call away. Hopefully you just needed a night to let the shock wear off so you could both enjoy your time together before she had to leave.

You hardly realized that you had arrived in front of Mapi and Ingrid’s, the entire care ride being completely silent until now. “Chiquita, can we please talk?” She was still met with complete silence from you, taking it as an invitation to continue on. “Listen, I’m sorry. I should have talked to you sooner but I just-”

“It’s fine.” you shrugged her off, her face full of confusion.

“But, I should’ve-”

“Leila, it’s fine. I’m fine. I’ve got to go.”

“But (y/n), I-” and you were gone. Leila let out an exasperated sigh when you slammed the car door shut, mid sentence. So much for talking to you. The older woman texted Mapi, hoping she’d be able to talk to you in a way that was more successful than what had just happened.

Mapi had just read Leila’s message when you trudged through the front door. She decided not to let you know what Leila had told her, trying to see how much you’d be willing to share on your own. Committing to her plan, she greeted you, just as chipper as always, “Hola, Amiga! How was Leila?”

You responded with a shrug, doing your best to push your feelings down. If you just pushed them away, you’d be fine, right? “She was fine.” Mapi and Ingrid shared a look of concern at you making a beeline for your room. Once you made it to your room, then you could handle whatever you were feeling, but you weren’t about to do that in front of them.

Your plan would’ve worked out if it weren’t for Ingrid making one last attempt to get you to talk, “Hey, did you want to join us for a movie night?” You were so close, your door right in front of you. You pressed your forehead against the door, taking a strangled deep breath in an attempt to keep your emotions at bay. “(y/n)?” They shared another glance, concerned by your reaction.

Almost in slow motion, you turned silently to face the pair. “Did you know?” You choked over your words. You didn’t plan on talking about it tonight. You didn’t know how to face this news but you had to know the answer. Did Leila really tell everyone but you? The silence from Mapi told you everything you needed to know. All you could do was turn and take refuge in your bedroom.

As soon as the door shut, you pressed your back against it and slid down until you met the ground. Knowing you well, Mapi knew you’d want some time to handle it yourself. You were fiercely independent, always acting much older than you were. Sometimes Mapi had to remind others how young you were, making sure nobody went too hard on you. At times she had to remind you of that as well. Remind you that you were still learning, still figuring out life. Mapi admired your maturity but was also terrified that it would end up breaking you. She knew if she tried to follow you know, you’d push her out even further and want to try to fix it yourself first.

If only she could see you- sitting on the floor, tears rolling down your face as you choked down sobs. Your whole body shook, filled to the brim with emotions that you were too scared to let out. Your cries continued, much longer than ever before.

At some point during your crying, you had made your way into bed. The blankets and pillows provided you little comfort from the world inside your head. You didn’t even realize you had cuddled up with a sweatshirt of Leila’s. You borrowed it once when you were chilly and she let you keep it after she saw how much you loved it. It was instinctual for you to reach for it in times of stress so of course you hugged it tightly as you cried over the idea of her leaving you. Eventually, your cries seemed to tire you, succumbing to the exhaustion and falling into an uneasy sleep.

When Mapi and Ingrid had finished their movie and you were still yet to emerge from your room, they knew they needed to check up on you. Mapi being the closest with you, always took it upon herself to play the role of mother when you needed it. She knocked on your door lightly, expecting some sort of response. When she was met with none, she pressed her ear against your door, hoping to hear something that’d give her an idea of how you we doing. With still no response, she gently pushed the door open.

Upon seeing you, Mapi let out a breath she didn’t realize she was holding. You were curled up on your bed, fast asleep. She quietly sat down next to you, taking in your stressed appearance. Your face was still stained from tears, your eyes puffy and red. The older woman pushed some hair away from your face and ran her thumb over your eyebrows, hoping to relax the crease that remained on your face. It was clear to her who’s sweatshirt it was that you were gripping tightly. Mapi realized that while you were clearly sad, you must not be too angry at Leila herself. You wouldn’t be snuggled into her sweatshirt if you were mad at her.

Mapi pulled up your blanket around your shoulders and pressed a light kiss to your forehead, assuming that you’d be feeling better in the morning. Of course it would be hard on you to see one of the closest people in your life move away but Mapi knew she and Ingrid would be with you to help, no matter what it took. You were a hard worker, resilient in nature. There was no reason for anyone to expect you to be anything but that.

The next morning, Mapi was surprised when she entered the kitchen and didn’t see any trace of you. Sometimes you’d be up, cooking breakfast or at the very least, she’d see your empty mug in the sink which communicated that you’d had your coffee before going on a run. When she looked closer, she noticed your shoes and training bag already gone. Intending to call you, she opened her phone just to notice an unread message from you:

Wanted to train early. Used my run to run here. See you later.

Mapi’s face contorted as she read your message. How early had you left? The training grounds weren’t exactly close and would’ve taken a long time to run there. You were probably exhausted after being so upset the night before but maybe you wanted that run to clear your head and would talk with her afterwards.

Mapi and Ingrid arrived to training early, hoping to catch you before the rest of the team showed up. They stopped in the locking room first, thinking you’d be taking a break there and waiting for everyone else. When they didn’t find you there, they went on to the gym, the physio rooms, and the cafeteria- all of which remained empty. They hesitantly decided to check the pitch, confused as to why you’d be willing to spend more time in the sun on top of the time you’d spend outside for team training.

Of course that’s where they found you- on the side of the pitch running sprints. You didn’t notice them, fully lost in your own head, running as fast as your body would take you. Your lungs were burning. At this point, you had no idea how long you’d been running, definitely over an hour.

But you needed to. You had to get faster. You had to work harder. You had to prove that your spot on the team was not from getting lucky. You had worked for it. You were still working for it.

Maybe if you ran fast enough, you could run away from all your problems. Run away from here. Run away from being lonely. Or stressed. Or tired. Or insecure. Or not good enough. You didn’t need anyone’s help- not Leila’s, not Ingrid, not Mapi. You had to do this yourself. You had to work harder.

Mapi froze- watching you run yourself to exhaustion. She had never seen you like this. She’d seen you struggle but she’d never seen this. How would she even begin to help you? Clearly you couldn’t continue in this headspace but right now your friend was completely lost as to where to even begin with you. She sent Ingrid back inside, knowing her best chance at getting you to open up was if you were alone.

“Amiga! Come on! Come take a break before training starts!” Her shouting across the pitch at you was the first you were made aware of her presence. You shook your head at her and continued your sprints, not bothering to look her way. Your lungs didn’t have the capacity to use your voice at the moment. “Si, vamos! It was not a suggestion, you have to be done out here!” Once again, you ignored her.

The older woman let out a heavy sigh, knowing she was going to have to stop you herself. She did just that as she lightly jogged towards you, intending on intercepting your path. You didn’t even notice what she was doing until you suddenly struggled to avoid running into her. You stumbled over your feet while she grabbed at your shoulders, hoping to help steady you. With how fast you had been going, it was difficult trying to stop your momentum so suddenly- something she should have known before trying to get in your way. As soon as you had steadied, you were filled with anger and Mapi’s hands holding onto you tightly were not helping. The Zaragozan had no idea the amount of rage you were about to unleash onto her.

Part 2 Part 3

Masterlist

#barca femeni #barcelona femeni #woso imagines #fcb femini #woso one shot #woso #woso x reader #woso imagine #maria leon #maria león #mapi leon imagine #mapi leon #mapi león #mapi leon x reader #leila ouahabi #woso fanfics #wosoreading24/7 #wosoreadingmapi

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jgracie · 2 months

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ONCE UPON A DREAM — PERCY + CHILD OF HYPNOS

masterlist | rules

❝ Hi! Can you do hcs of Percy Jackson dating a child of Hypnos!reader please? I love all your other headcanons ❞ — anon

in which percy dates a child of hypnos

pairing percy jackson x hypnos!reader

warnings none

on the radio . . . once upon a dream (lana del rey)

Cabin inspections weren’t Percy’s favourite things in the world, but there were worse jobs to do at camp

Still, he couldn’t help but feel like a bit of a hypocrite whenever he gave a cabin a low cleanliness grade, considering he wasn’t the tidiest person. If it weren’t for Tyson, he’d have dish duty for dirtiest cabin every week

What Percy did like about cabin inspections was getting to know the other cabin counsellors. Now that minor gods had their own cabins, the pool of people for Chiron to choose from almost doubled, making inspections a lot more interesting

Last time Percy was on cabin inspection duty, he was paired with Lou Ellen Blackstone from the Hecate cabin, who taught him the basics of tarot while they inspected. He forgot half of the stuff she said, but it was still really cool

Today, Percy looked at the duty sheet posted on the notice board and found his name next to someone called Y/N from cabin 15

There’s nothing Percy hated more than when people referred to cabins by their numbers instead of Godly parent. He barely managed to learn the first 12, now he had another 8 to memorise

Oh well, it’s not like it mattered. Percy didn’t have to go collect you from cabin 15, since everyone knew people on cabin inspection duty are supposed to meet at the big house then check the cabins in numerical order

Or so he thought. Percy waited ages and watched as people came and went, yet there was no sight of you. Had you forgotten you were supposed to be on inspection duty? Were you a new camper and got lost? Percy scratched that last thought, since you wouldn’t be cabin counsellor if you were new

After about 10 minutes, Percy got tired of waiting. The next time someone passed by, he asked them which God cabin 15 was for: Hypnos

Clipboard in hand, he made his way over to your cabin

“Hello? Is there anyone in here?” Percy asked, rapping his knuckles on the front door. This was his third time knocking, and he was getting quite tired of it all. Being met with more silence, the boy decided to invite himself in

Walking into your cabin, Percy nearly tripped over one of your half-siblings, who was sleeping on the doormat. Looking around, Percy realised almost everyone in this cabin was at least daydreaming. He felt like he’d entered a new world where time stopped and responsibilities were non-existent

“So…” he began, unsure if he should wake one of them up or hope they wake up by themselves, “which one of you’s Y/N?”

There was no response. Just as Percy was about to tap one of your siblings on the shoulder, another pointed in your direction whilst asleep, which freaked Percy out, “uh… thanks,” he said before turning in the direction of their pointed finger

What he saw next had him debating between bursting out laughing or facepalming. Somehow, you managed to fall asleep in the middle of tying your shoelaces, and so you stood with one foot in the air, the laces slipping from your fingers

“Hey, uh, do you need some help with that?” He asked, gently shaking you awake. From the outside, you seemed to be in deep sleep, but all it took to wake you up was one small shake

Blinking the sleep away from your eyes, you were met with a pair of aquamarine ones, “what time is it?” You mumbled, tying your shoelaces as if nothing had happened, clearly unfazed by the position you woke up in

“9AM,” as soon as Percy uttered those words, you suddenly seemed much more alert

Scrambling for your own clipboard and pen, you exclaimed, “what?! Oh Gods, I’m so late. I was supposed to meet this guy at the big house an hour ago!” Then, to Percy, “do you know how many alarms I set? I was so close, too! Fell asleep right as I was about to leave,” you said, eyebrows furrowed in disappointment

An endearing smile tugged at the corners of Percy’s lips. He wasn’t annoyed anymore. He couldn’t be, not at your cute pouty expression

“It’s okay, I don’t like cabin inspections that much anyway,” he said, causing a wave of relief to wash over you

While you inspected the cleanliness of cabins together, you got to know each other and Percy learnt more about your cabin. You heard the stuff the kids from other cabins called you - lazy being the most commonly used adjective - and were quick to dismantle all the stereotypes surrounding you and your siblings whenever you got the chance. It wasn’t all of them, of course, but it was enough of them to rub you the wrong way

It’s not that you cared what they were saying about you, but you couldn’t stand the way they’d speak about your father and his domain. There was a very good reason why mortal doctors preached about sleep so often, after all

Also, you and your siblings didn’t sleep just for the sake of it - you often trained in your dreams, seeing as you were closer to your full potential the deeper your slumber was, so you weren’t lazy at all

As all of these thoughts spilled out of your lips while walking around camp with Percy, you were confused. Sure, these things bothered you, but you were usually in good control of your emotions - always serene, always calm. Even when you did complain, you didn’t do it like this

You stopped for a second and took a good look at Percy, then it hit you

“You are the most tense person I’ve ever met in my life.”

“Excuse me?” Percy replied, caught off-guard and a little offended. He’d been so forgiving with you, and this is how you thanked him?

Noticing his discomfort, you recollected yourself, “no offence, Percy, but you haven’t been relaxed a day in your life. Your tenseness is rubbing off on me, that’s why I’ve been so heated. Would you wanna book a meditation session with me? I think it’d really help.”

Percy blinked, his brows furrowed in confusion. Before, he was offended, but now he didn’t know how to feel. You’d basically just called him an emitter of bad emotions. At the same time, though, something was telling him he should trust you. He felt the relaxed aura of your cabin even before walking in

And meditation with you sounded quite nice. He didn’t think he wanted to rely on the slim chance that Chiron would pair the two of you up a second time just to see you again

“Okay.”

Turns out, the Hypnos cabin had a whole meditation business set up. Very few people knew about it, since very few people cared to see past your sleepiness, but your cabin was a safe haven for those who did

You had a slot open the next day right after breakfast, so you quickly put Percy in, promising him you’d actually be awake when he shows up

He was a little apprehensive and considered not showing up at all, but he’d committed and so he was at your cabin door as soon as breakfast was over

Soon enough, Percy would learn that his showing up to your meditation session that day was the best decision he’d ever made

You were so sweet as you guided him through his emotions and helped him practise breathing techniques to relax, as well as giving him tips on how to get a better night’s rest

The two of you eventually started spending time outside of his meditation sessions, too. Percy felt really bad when he heard you speaking about the treatment you’d get from other campers on the day you first met, so he introduced you to all his friends and soon enough, you became a part of the friend group

Secretly, you still preferred spending time with Percy alone. He was so funny and nice, unlike anyone else you’d ever met - both in the mortal world and at camp

You would often meet at this giant oak tree Percy had found you dozing off next to in the early days of your friendship. It was one of your favourite nap spots, but you were more than happy to share it with him

This was one of those instances. Percy had a comic book in hand, some series Leo insisted he should read, but he wasn’t super into it. Meanwhile, you sat next to him, occasionally commenting on the silly drawings in it or telling him little bits of your day

The moment was so peaceful, it was only natural for your eyelids to begin getting heavier. As you dozed off, Percy finally got to a part in the book that could get him to justify why Leo enjoyed these so much, not noticing you were asleep until your head landed on his shoulder

“Oh, goodnight, Y/N,” Percy said, smiling fondly at your serene expression. You always looked cute - Percy knew this better than anyone, considering the massive crush on you he’d been harbouring, but you looked extra adorable in your sleep, your eyelashes tickling your cheeks as light snores left your mouth

He sat very still, not wanting to move a muscle in case that’d cause you to shift positions. He liked where you were sleeping right now. If he closed his eyes, he could pretend you were a couple

Percy began playing around with your hair as he said, “this is nice. I really wish you liked me. I mean, I know you like me, but I want you to like like me, y’know?” He sighed, taking this opportunity as he knew you wouldn’t be able to hear him

Just as he was about to continue reading, he heard a voice - your voice - pipe up, “I like you too, Percy. Really like you.”

And so, you began dating <3

Honestly such a cute relationship. You’re the only one able to calm Percy down whenever he’s upset. The whole Aphrodite cabin could be using their charmspeak on him and he wouldn’t fully relax until you place a gentle hand on his shoulder

You guys also have a lot of sleepovers. Mostly at his cabin, since yours is too full for a proper sleepover

During said sleepovers, you guys always try to visit each other in your dreams. You’re aware that children of Hypnos could enter other people’s dreams and desperately wanted to figure it out, and who better to test it on than Percy?

For one of your attempts he makes those aluminium foil hat things that cartoon characters would use to dream together or whatever it was, and you laugh at first, taking it as a silly joke, until you actually try with the hats on (because Percy insisted) and it ends up being your closest attempt

Now, you wear those aluminium foil hats religiously

Speaking of dreams, yours are more vivid than the average demigod’s, but you had no one to talk to about them until Percy came along. He loves hearing about all your silly slumber adventures <3 especially when he’s in them

Whenever you mention a dream he happened to be in it’s literally like the “oh and there was crazy drama that happened in bloxburg–” “HUH?! I NEED TO HEAR ABOUT THIS!!!!!” audio

“Percy, oh my Gods, I have to tell you about this dream I just had!” You said, not bothering to knock as you made your way inside his cabin. Percy, who was currently trying to fix the fountain in the middle of the room (idk where it is sorry), greeted you with a, “hey sweetie,” clearly very invested in his task

You sat on his bed and proceeded to give him a rundown of your dream: it started off at camp, but you were in a cabin you didn’t recognise. You decided to explore for a little bit and came across this seashell, which you picked up.

Instantly, it transported you to what you assumed was Poseidon’s underwater kingdom, since the God himself came over to greet you, Amphitrite and Triton trailing behind. He showed you around his castle, then left you at the door of your room, where he said was a special surprise for you

“Okay, so I go inside and you’re there–” immediately, Percy turned, losing his focus on the fountain and drenching you in water as a result

Grabbing you by the shoulders, he said, “You need to tell me about this! Did we get married?!”

“I thought you were busy with that fountain. You didn’t seem to care about my dream before,” you said, teasing him

Pouting, Percy replied, “no, baby, I’m sorry. I was listening, honestly! It’s just that the fountain has been making the most annoying noise ever and how are we supposed to continue our dream visiting endeavours with it distracting us?”

You continue your meditation, but more informally. He doesn’t have to book slots to see you anymore, you’d gladly guide him through whatever he needs at any time

The two of you reminisce on your first meeting a lot, too. Percy likes to claim it was his divine intuition that made him choose to look for you that day instead of inspecting cabins alone, while you just play along and try not to laugh at the way he over-exaggerates all your interactions pre-dating

To Percy, though, he isn’t over-exaggerating. Every interaction with you is a big deal. Whenever Percy wakes up in the morning and finds you next to him, clinging onto his arm with a leg draped over his body, he can’t help but fall in love all over again <3

#percy jackson x reader #percy jackson x you #percy jackson x y/n #percy jackson #percy jackson x gn reader #pjo #pjo x reader #percy jackson fanfic #percy jackson headcannons #percy jackson x hypnos reader #percy jackson x child of hypnos #hypnos pjo #children of hypnos #cynwrites

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slytherin-ghost · 1 year

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{Where's The Baby?}

Bat family x child! reader, Reader is about 3 years old

Summary: The boys take their little sibling y/n to Wayne Enterprises and they end up losing them. Causing everyone to go into panic mode

(I know the GIF isn't batfamily but I thought it would be funny)

Bruce had left this morning before his youngest y/n had a chance to spend time with their father, leaving the child upset once they woke up.

"Y/N, eat your food" Dick said, y/n pouted and mumbled something. "What's their problem?" Tim said walking in and sitting at the table. Dick sighed "They didn't see Father this morning before he left so now their cranky." Damian informed. "I believe a visit to Master Bruce's office will help their mood." Alfred suggested.

Less than 5 minutes later, the boys and y/n walked into the lobby of Wayne Enterprises. The boys discussed where they think Bruce would be. "Is he in a meeting?" Jason asked "We don't know." Dick respond. While this was happening no one noticed Y/n walking into an elevator.

"Okay c'mon Y/N." Tim said "Guys we lost Y/N?!" Tim announced "What?!" Jason yelled. "Okay, We'll look around, they couldn't have gone far." Dick said. The group started searching. Tim with Damian went to the second floor. Dick going to the fifth. While Jason went to the 7th.

Meanwhile Y/N started to get out of the elevator at the same time Bruce was about to get in. "Daddy!" Y/n squealed excitedly "Y/N?!" Bruce picked up his child. Bruce sighed "They lost you again, didn't they?" He said walking back to his office with the child.

The boys nervously walked to Bruce's office, knowing he would kill them once he found out. "I think Todd should go in first." Damian said smirking "No! Dick you go in!" Jason replied "Why do I have too?!" Dick whispered- shouted "Your the oldest!" Tim responded.

Dick sighed and opened the office door. "Hey Bruce we-"

"I already know." Bruce cut Dick off. A little squeal that came from the toddler, confirmed that Y/N was with Bruce. "Thank fucking god! We can go home now!" Jason sighed.

Everyone sighed at Jason's actions.

Once home, that's when the boys got their baby-sitting privileges taken away which were handed over to Alfred. Who was more than happy to spend all day with the child.

Please give me credit if you reblog my work

I don't post to a03 or any other site if you see my work there please message me

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youunravelme · 19 days

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nothing happened in the way i wanted part 1

author's note: okay so let it be known that my FAV emily henry book is happy place (if you want a deep dive into my personality, if you want to know the inner workings of my mind, read the book) SO with that being said, this fic was inspired by that masterpiece. plus i've fallen down a matt rabbit hole as of late. just a warning, this is a LONG ass fic (74 pages and 30.3k words, not a brag, i kinda regret that it's this long bc my brain hurts) so pace yourselves okay? thank you for being the kindest people ever!! this is finished, but tumblr said what i wrote is too long. so i'm posting it in parts lolol.

summary: a year has passed and you are no closer to understanding why matt ended things and you have every plan of avoiding that thought until he comes back in town for the offseason, then suddenly he's everywhere.

pairing: matthew tkachuk x reader

warnings: ANGST, friends to lovers to exes to lovers, mention of sexual assault, attempted sexual assault, drinking, depression, panic attacks, let me know if i missed something!

after

despite being back in st. louis for six months, summer still felt like it came too fast. your thighs started sticking to the seats from sweat about three weeks ago. summer used to be your favorite season because it meant you had unlimited access to the love of your life, you weren’t sharing him with his teammates or his crazy schedule.

but he wasn’t yours anymore. matthew hadn’t been yours in six months and some change.

the second you entered your parents’ home, you tossed your keys into the bowl and slid your shoes off. it’d been six months since you moved home, and it still didn’t feel like a space where you belonged. you walked into the living room without so much as a hello from either of your parents, both of whom were posted up on the couch. they weren’t talking to each other, just letting the noise from the news fill the room instead of conversation.

“hey,” you greeted, plopping down in the recliner.

“how was work?” your mom asked.

you shrugged, not quite having the words to convey how mundane it had been. you were working on restoring a piece for this rich couple who lived in the same neighborhood as the tkachuks. it wasn’t in too bad of shape, given the fact that you were the one entrusted to work on it. if it was actually something incredibly complicated, your boss would’ve found someone else more experienced to do it.

when you entered art restoration and conservation, you thought it would be mindless. art had always been an escape for you, a chance to remove yourself from your racing thoughts. you thought that by entering the art conservation field, you could add onto something, enhance the beauty that was lost over the years of damage, instead of creating something from your own experiences.

but no one told you how hard it would be after your breakup, that you would have to learn how to pour bottles of chemical solvent into a glass when your eyes were blurring with tears. no one said anything about how you would spend hours hunched over, fixing the problems in paintings that only served to remind you that while you could mend a masterpiece, you were unable to stop and patch up the problems in your relationship. no one spoke about how you would inevitably relate to the paintings that came to you in shambles, the only difference being that clients would pay thousands of dollars for their paintings to be restored to their former glory, your ex let you fall apart alone in a city where you had no friends outside of the ones you’d made through him.

but how could you communicate that to your mother? to your father? both of whom stayed in an unhappy marriage for the sake of optics? how could you tell them that it’s been months and you were still no more over your ex than the day it ended? how could they understand you? they stayed together out of convenience, out of a fear of ending their marriage only to never find someone else.

it had been six months since your relationship ended, and you were no closer to understanding why.

“just a mundane day,” was all you said instead. “nothing to write home about.”

both of your parents hummed.

“did you have dinner already?” you asked.

“was gonna order pizza,” your dad said.

your mother scoffed and rolled her eyes. “no alan, we had plans to see chantal and keith tonight for dinner.”

you wanted to throw up.

you weren’t sure what you were expecting, maybe some loyalty from your parents? though, they weren’t fully privy to all the information about the demise of your relationship with matt, so maybe you couldn’t expect them to stop hanging out with his parents, especially when said parents were such great people.

“oh,” was all you could say.

“you’re more than welcome to order takeout and watch a movie,” your mom commented, like you needed permission to make yourself at home when you were actively living there. “i’m sure ronald would appreciate your company.”

you glanced at the tabby cat who was perched on his cat tree. personally, you had no issue with ronald, but he liked your mom and your mom only. though on occasion, he would allow your dad to pet him.

“i’ll figure something out,” you said.

your mom hummed before she stood up to go get ready while your father stayed on the couch. it was only another ten minutes before he got up to change quickly, and another five before they left the house without so much as a goodbye.

before

you were incredibly aware that you didn’t quite fit in. your mom drove you to school in a beat up 1997 toyota camry which looked incredibly out of place among the bmws and audis. your mom offered to walk you in, but she was wearing her scrubs from her night shift and her face looked tired, so you declined the offer and got out of the car yourself.

it shouldn’t have been as daunting as it was, but your old school wasn’t as prestigious as this one. your previous schools in cedar rapids had been public schools. no one was wearing a uniform, and most of the backpacks worn came from the same walmart in your old neighborhood.

but your parents had decided they wanted a better education for you, even if neither of them had the money to fork out thousands of dollars for a private school. your mom’s parents, however, were loaded. they were more than willing to fork out a small fortune for your schooling under the conditions of your family uprooting your lives to missouri. you were too young to realize what a sacrifice that was, you didn’t notice the snide comments your grandparents made about your father’s choice of career or your mother’s choice in husband.

you didn’t see your grandparents any more than you usually did since you’d moved to missouri two weeks ago. they’d been out of town on a trip to rome up until three days ago and hadn’t reached out to have dinner or hang out at all.

not that you cared at the age of nine, you were more focused on unpacking your room. but now that you were standing in front of the giant school alone, you felt like you should’ve been more concerned with how nice your school supplies were.

a kind woman greeted you at the entrance of the school. she smiled and introduced herself, though you couldn’t hear her over the roaring in your ears. she stood next to a blond haired blue eyed boy who was your height.

“are your parents here?” you weren’t sure how you heard her over the noise in your head.

you shook your head. “my mom had to go home and my dad is at work.”

the woman blinked. “is today your first day?”

“mom, it’s everyone’s first day of school,” the boy groaned.

“i wasn’t talking to you, matthew,” she said, though her eyes never left your own.

“i just moved here,” was all you said, albeit a bit quietly.

“well, you can walk in with us.” She placed a warm hand on your back and ushered you inside next to her son.

you took notice of her nicer clothing compared to your mom’s scrubs or your dad’s tattered khakis, though the woman’s clothing wasn’t as ostentatious as other parents’.

“do you know your teacher’s name?” the woman asked.

you nodded and showed her the crumpled paper in your hand. the night before, you were wracked with nerves and wrote your teacher’s on a blank sheet of paper and doodled around it. even at nine years old, you were concerned that you’d somehow forget. you couldn’t be more grateful for it now.

the woman’s face lit up. “oh how lucky! matthew look! you’re in the same class.”

matthew for his part, tried to look happy about it, but his eyes kept wandering to the hallways, like he was looking for people he knew. you felt bad for even being in this situation. you missed your friends from iowa and the light up shoes you used to wear before you were given a uniform.

matthew’s mom pointed out the classroom that was supposed to be yours and walked both you and matthew into the room. unlike her son, who immediately found his friends to do elaborate handshakes with, you stayed by her side. she was a stranger, sure, but she was more comforting that the classroom of fifteen other nine and ten year olds.

the woman sighed and bent down a little to look you in the eyes. “it’s gonna be a good day, sweetheart,” she said. “mr. terry is a great teacher, he’s really kind.” you weren’t sure how she would know that, but you weren’t going to call her a liar. “and if you need anything, ask matthew. he’s been going here since kindergarten, okay?”

you nodded.

mr. terry walked over and introduced himself. he had dark skin and a bright smile, showing you to your seat. your name was on a card with fun stickers on it. next to your seat, you saw matthew’s name. now it wasn’t necessarily an unpopular name, there were three matthews in your third grade class, so you weren’t holding out hope that it was going to be the matthew you walked into class with. but two minutes later, he was plopping down into the seat to your left.

matthew looked almost startled to see you sitting next to him, but when the shock wore off he gave you a crooked smile and stuck his hand out. “i’m matt,” he said, like you two didn’t walk into class together.

you shook his hand anyway and gave him a shy smile and told him your name, just in case he didn’t see it written on your desk.

if it was even possible, his smile widened. “pretty name,” he said.

after

you’d watched a movie and half of another one by the time your parents walked through the front door. ronald jumped off the couch to greet your mother while he ignored your father.

“oh,” your dad said. “you’re still up.”

“i’m about to go to bed,” you replied, though you didn’t move from the couch.

“dinner was great,” your mom commented. “chantal and keith said to tell you hello.”

your gut twisted at the mention of their names. you loved his family, you really did, but the mention of the family that was almost yours stung when you looked at how your parents acted like roommates on the best of days.

you remembered summer days spent in the tkachuks’ backyard, watching as matt and brady chased each other while taryn tried her best to keep up. you remembered your dad picking you up from their house, and how you begged the entire ride home for a little brother or sister. he looked at your through the rearview mirror and said “we already achieved perfection, why mess that up?”

but you were grown now. you saw how their marriage barely survived raising you, and they were probably being smart by not risking your upbringing just to have another child.

you bid your parents goodnight and headed up the stairs to your childhood bedroom. it looked less like the office it was converted into when you moved out originally. you didn’t fault your parents for taking advantage of your absence, you, like many people your age, had zero intentions of ever moving back in until an unfortunate set of circumstances happened to you.

and that’s what life had felt like lately:

unfortunate.

unfortunate shit just happening to you.

it wasn't late by any means, but you were surprised when your phone vibrated with a text message. maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t really befriended anyone since moving back that had you flinching at the shock of someone other than your parents (or grandparents) texting you.

you unlocked your phone and opened the message, sighing when you read its contents.

emma:

hey girl! just checking in to see if you’re still good for this weekend? no worries if you can’t make it!

you dropped the phone on your stomach and groaned into your hands as soon as they made contact with your face.

years of dating matthew meant you’d grown closer to brady and taryn and by proxy, brady’s fiancée, emma. you’d already committed to being a bridesmaid and bought the dress before your relationship with matt ended. when emma found out, she called immediately and gave you an out, said she wouldn’t take it personal, that she understood if it would be too hard.

but you remembered the countless conversations had about planning your weddings while the both of you watched the loves of your lives try not to kill each other from your spots on the back porch. and you could hear it in her voice, how much it meant to her that you would be there even if she didn’t want to push it on you. it didn’t matter that only one of you was getting the wedding you planned. the bets made on who’d get married first were obsolete now.

you wanted to text her back and say you were busy, but you hadn’t seen her much since her and brady came back in town. when the senators’ season ended in april, he and emma spent some time with her family and attended the playoff games for the panthers. now that the panthers’ season ended two weeks ago, all of the tkachuks were back in town which used to excite you.

now it just filled you with dread.

no, it’s not like you lived in the same tax bracket as matt’s family. you didn’t go to the same grocery stores unless you were tagging along. no, there was a comfortable distance between your neighborhoods and st. louis was filled with two million other people that the odds of running into him were slim.

but your anxiety preferred zero odds rather than a slight chance, and it made the logic that was once screaming at you sound like a small whisper.

you sucked it up anyway, though. seeing emma and the other bridesmaids was better than staying in your room and staring at the ceiling.

you:

i’ll be there! can’t wait!!!

and maybe you used too many exclamation points. maybe you were trying too hard to prove something no one would believe if they took longer than a split second glance at your face. you were a horrible liar, that hadn’t changed. you were just hoping by the time the weekend came around, you’d be too busy to focus on any of the pain.

before

the summer after keith retired, the tkachuks took you and your family on vacation with them to turks and caicos. your parents were stressed initially about the trip, but you were filled with nothing but excitement at leaving the landlocked state you called home.

missouri had slowly wormed its way into your heart. when your family moved, there was never a thought in your mind that you would ever come to love it like you did with cedar rapids. there was no way you’d ever consider this place your home. but then you met the tkachuks.

it’d been nearly three years since you’d first sat in that seat next to your best friend in mr. terry’s fourth grade class. now, you were splashing around in the waves with matt and brady while your parents looked from the shore.

school had been different the past two years, with matthew going to an all boys school after fifth grade while you stayed. it took some adjusting to being without him the entire school day. you didn’t want to think of yourself as codependent, or clingy, but mat was your best friend. it was an adjustment, having to make new friends in the same school.

now that wasn’t to say that you never saw matt. after your initial introductions, chantal offered to take you to and from school if your mom or dad dropped you off at their house in the morning. both of your parents jumped at the idea. your mother, who worked as a night shift ICU nurse, reveled in being able to go home and go straight to sleep. your father, whose job as an electrician required him to be on job sites early in the morning, didn’t mind it either, he had to be up early anyway.

and sure, you had to wake up earlier than you used to, but you got to eat breakfast and pretend like you were a tkachuk most days of the week (with the exception of the days your mom was off). keith would ruffle your hair as he passed you in the kitchen. taryn would race matthew for the seat next to yours.

the tkachuks felt more like your family than your own some days.

especially now when your parents went on a date that keith and chantal paid for while they stayed back at the beach house with you and their children.

all six of you were seated around the coffee table with the game of life laid out in front of you. the evening started out with a game of uno, but that game got out of hand quickly. it took brady reversing the order and hitting matt with a draw four before your best friend lunged over the table to tackle his brother. while keith broke up the boys, chantal cleaned up uno and instructed you and taryn to pick out the least competitive game you could find.

which is how you ended up playing the game of life.

even though life had to be the least competitive game you knew, matt and brady still managed to argue over it, even going as far to rant about how unfair it was that they had to pay for home insurance. keith and chantal had just chuckled and told them to enjoy childhood while it lasted.

you found yourself smiling and laughing along.

you weren’t quite sure who won, or how anyone ever really wins the game of life, but the moment mattered more. taryn went upstairs with keith to get ready for bed while brady helped his mom in the kitchen pop a bag of popcorn. you and matthew were responsible for cleaning up the game.

“are you having fun?” he asked.

your smile was so wide, it hurt your cheeks. “i’m having the best time. this is by far the best vacation i’ve been on.”

“really?” he smiled.

you nodded emphatically. “most of my family vacations have been spent with my grandparents.”

matt grimaced, already aware of the testy relationship your mom had with her own parents. “when’s the last time you saw them?”

you had to think for a moment, while your grandparents technically lived in st. louis, they were often out of town or ignoring your family’s existence altogether. with the exception of the last saturday of every month, when you and your parents were practically obligated to eat dinner with them. you didn’t notice their judgmental comments when you were younger and mesmerized by the giant dollhouse they bought for you.

but you were older now. you knew that there were terms and conditions attached to the cellphone they bought for you on your twelfth birthday. you heard the disdain in their voices when they talked down to your father and mother for their life choices. you weren’t an idiot, you understood that every compliment they gave you was a way for them to make your parents feel inferior in comparison.

you weren’t a child to them, you were a pawn in a game you never asked to play.

“we saw them about a month ago?” you shrugged. “they’re on vacation until halfway through august.”

matt hummed. “i think we’re gonna visit mom’s parents before school starts back again.”

to your credit, you did your best to look happy for him, even if it meant that you wouldn’t see him for a week and a half. you had other friends in town! in fact, you befriended a girl named simone when you started middle school. maybe you could call her when you get back to st. louis?

evidently, your little act wasn’t convincing enough. matt nudged your shoulder with his. “you’ll be fine,” he said. “you’re probably annoyed from how much time we’ve spent together this summer. you need a break.”

you couldn’t help but smile. “i could never get tired of you, matty.”

he blinked, almost at a loss for words, it felt like. but you should’ve known better, because he was holding up his pinky a beat later. “you promise?”

you locked your fingers together. “promise.”

after

it’s just emma and her friends and taryn, you thought. you already know all of these people. there’s no reason to be stressed out.

which, to be fair, your inner monologue was right. you had absolutely no reason to be standing in front of your closet debating what to wear for as long as you had.

before you could stop yourself, you were hitting emma’s contact and putting your phone on speaker. the dial tone rang out through the room while you waited for her to pick up. you were seconds away from ending the call when her phone sounded through the receiver.

“hey! what’s up?”

you exhaled. “i don’t know what to wear tonight.”

emma said your name through a laugh. “we’re not going anywhere fancy, i swear. it’s just dinner and then we’re going to a bar.”

you frowned. “so taryn’s not joining us after dinner?”

“no, she has other plans after dinner anyway. she said she was meeting up with some friends from high school.” as if she could see the hesitance on your face, emma spoke up again. “but you know all the other girls, it’s not like you’ll be hanging out with strangers.”

and she was right, you were in a groupchat with the other bridesmaids and found all of them to be quite pleasant.

“look, if you’re still stressed about what to wear, just wear jeans.”

“okay, but how nice is this restaurant?” you were rummaging through your closet. “because i’ve worn jeans to restaurants that weren’t supposed to be fancy and i found myself criminally underdressed.”

“yeah well, i’m better at communicating than matt is.” a gasp sounded through the receiver, like emma had just realized what she said. “oh my god, i’m so sorry—”

“it’s fine, you’re not wrong,” you said, forcing out a laugh even as your heart painfully squeezed in your chest.

“i really didn’t mean to,” she sighed. “i’m sorry, that was rude of me to bring up.”

you shook your head even though she couldn’t see you. “it’s fine, emma, i swear,” you said even though there were tears pricking in your eyes. “i’ll have to face the music eventually.”

“still, it was insensitive of me to say that.”

you cleared your throat. “don’t worry about it, i’m a big girl.” you pulled the phone away from your face so you could sniffle for a second without drawing any unnecessary attention. “so jean shorts tonight?” you asked.

there was a brief silence before you heard emma’s soft sigh over the phone. “that sounds perfect.”

before

matthew kissed you for the first time when you were hanging out with mutual friends after school in eighth grade. you’d been dreaming about that moment for years ever since sixth grade when you realized matt was handsome and the flutters in your stomach weren’t just from nerves anymore.

both of you were at your friend morgan’s house sitting in her basement. she happened to live in the same neighborhood as matt. so after school, you rode home with the tkachuks like you always did and then walked to her house.

morgan was the first of your friends to get a boyfriend and she wasn’t shy about telling everyone. it was easy to be jealous of her. while you hadn’t known her as long, your other friends had made it clear she’d garnered male attention since preschool. so there was no surprise that she’d announced at school earlier that week that she was dating someone from matt’s school.

hence the party in the basement.

morgan was the one who suggested truth or dare. she had all ten of you circle up on the carpet and sit criss crossed. you were keenly aware of how matt’s knee was touching your own, you could feel the heat even through your jeans. he was leaning back on his hands, with his right hand directly behind your back,in your delusions, you let yourself pretend he was doing it to be closer to you.

“alright!” morgan cheered. “who wants to start?”

no one said a word.

you made the mistake of looking around when you caught morgan’s eye. at the sight of a growing smirk on her lips, you quickly diverted your gaze.

“c'mon, no one wants to go first?” she hummed. “fine, i’ll go. babe,” she started calling thomas babe a week ago. “ask me, truth or dare?”

the only word you could use to describe the look on thomas’ face was besotted. without hesitating, he asked her the question, smiling when she grinned back at him. morgan chose dare, because she wasn’t “boring and lame.”

thomas dared her to kiss him. there was a collective groan when she leaned over and kissed her boyfriend. the second she pulled back, morgan’s eyes flitted over the rest of the group, looking like a tiger about to pounce. the two of you made eye contact and the corner of her lips raised in a smirk that was gone as quick as it came.

you prepared yourself for the worst, recalling how you let it slip that you have a crush on matt. and morgan, while she wasn’t intentionally cruel, had all but shrieked when you told her. so you didn’t think she’d out you to be mean, you wouldn’t put it past her to attempt matchmaking.

but her eyes skipped right over you and focused on simone. “truth or dare?”

“truth,” simone replied.

morgan rolled her eyes. “nerd,” but she cracked a smile anyway.

the game went on pretty effortlessly, you even got brave enough to do a dare (thankfully morgan never got the opportunity to ask you). it ended with morgan asking matthew. the smirk she had earlier, appeared as she made eye contact with you before setting her sights on your best friend.

“truth or dare?” she asked.

you immediately knew which option he was picking, matt never backed down from a challenge and had been choosing dare all night.

“matthew, i dare you to kiss the hottest person in the room.”

your stomach dropped as did your gaze. you couldn’t look anyone in the eye, you didn’t want to see matt kiss another girl, you couldn’t. you wouldn’t do it.

a moment passed when you realized matt hadn’t moved an inch. he was still leaning on his hands, with one stretched behind you. all it took was a quick glance at matt to see him already staring back at you.

“no,” he said, eyes still locked on your face.

morgan blinked. “what?”

it was only then that his eyes left your face to look morgan dead in the eye. “nope. i won’t do it.”

she guffawed. “but you have to!”

matt shrugged. “i don’t want to.”

“but you lose if you don’t!”

he shrugged yet again. “oh well.”

your head snapped up to look at him in confusion. “matt,” you nudged him.

“we gotta go anyway,” he said, before he stood up and reached out to you. you took his hand, albeit hesitantly before he dragged you up the stairs and out of the house onto the street.

a cool breeze was blowing which inadvertently caused you to shiver. matt, who still hadn’t let go of your hand, tugged you further into his side. your heart sank when he dropped your hand, only for it to skyrocket when he threw his arm around you.

“why didn’t you do the dare?” you asked. the curiosity was killing you, even if you believed the real answer would be even worse than not knowing.

matt shrugged like he had been all night. “i didn’t feel like it.”

you blinked at him, staring at his profile while he guided the two of you back to his house. “you’re literally the most competitive person i know. you’ve never intentionally lost a game. last week brady dared you to drink that gallon of milk and run a mile, which, if i must remind you, you threw up not even halfway through.”

matt laughed. “that was funny. but what’s your point?”

“my point is that kissing someone is way less work than running a mile and throwing up. so what’s up?”

he wouldn’t look at you, his gaze fell to the ground where he kicked a rock. “didn’t want it to happen like that.”

you blinked at him, refusing to move your gaze from his profile. “didn’t want what to happen like that? it’s just a kiss.”

he shook his head and stopped walking, grabbing your wrist when you kept moving. matt tugged your arm so you’d turn around and look at him. “it wouldn’t be just a kiss,” he said.

“would it mean more?” you asked, but he didn’t say anything. “matt?” your heart was beating against your chest. your hands shook at the idea of him wanting to kiss someone. you went through the list of people in that room. it wasn’t morgan, he’d told you weeks ago that he didn’t like her like that when you asked. could it be simone? she looked like a goddess on a bad day. her dark skin was flawless and free of blemishes and her faux locs were always perfectly styled. she didn’t even wear makeup on a regular basis.

oh god. did he like simone?

your gut twisted at the idea, of him falling in love with the closest friend you had at school. you could learn to be happy for them, simone was great and matt would adore her if she agreed to go out with him.

you snapped back into it when you felt matt’s thumb rub across your pulse. “matt, would it mean more?”

he shrugged again, still not looking at you, just the part where your hands were joined. “would it be a problem if it did?”

now it was your turn to be confused. “why would my opinion matter? i’m not the one you’d be kissing.”

matt blinked at you once, then twice. “you can’t be serious,” he said.

“what do you mean?”

“you can’t be that blind. there’s no way.”

“matt, what are you talking about?”

he dropped your hand to run both of his over his face and groaned. “there's no way you don’t know.”

“know what?”

matt fixed you with an intense look, one that had you squirming in your shoes a little. in all your years of friendship, you weren’t sure he'd ever stared at you that way before. a hockey game? sure, but you?

“matt what—”

“i like you,” he said as plain as day, like he didn’t just flip your world on its axis.

you blinked, you were pretty sure you stopped breathing. “what?” you whispered.

matt stepped closer to you, close enough that your shoes were touching. “i like you.”

“so why didn’t you kiss me when morgan dared you to?”

“i didn’t want it to happen like that,” he admitted. “didn’t wanna kiss you in front of everybody.”

you could feel the heat travel up your neck and to your cheeks. “and what about now? would you kiss me now?”

“would you let me?”

words failed you, you could only nod. matt hesitated for a moment before pressing his lips to yours. it was clumsy and awkward, and in the middle of the sidewalk two blocks away from his house.

but it was perfect.

after

you ubered to the restaurant before emma could suggest meeting at the tkachuk house. every single one of the bridesmaids knew you and matt were no longer together, all of them banding around you and offering support from thousands of miles away. so you didn’t think any of them would even hint at meeting at the tkachuk residence if they were as considerate as you believed them to be, but you wanted to avoid the sympathetic looks that would be thrown your way.

most of the bridesmaids were there by the time you arrived, the only exception being taryn. the entire table greeted you with bright white smiles, emma stood to give you a hug that you enthusiastically returned.

it felt great to be back in the company of people your age. despite being back in st. louis for quite some time, you still had yet to make any more friends outside of emma and taryn, both of whom you didn’t see that often because of who they were relationally attached to.

unfortunately, you’d lost contact with many of your friends from high school because of the distance. if you could go back, you’d slap yourself in the face for thinking matt was going to stick around longer than simone or morgan.

but how were you to know he would leave and wouldn’t want you to follow him?

you swallowed that question down and took a seat at the table. you sat next to a brunette named stacey, the other seat on your right was left for taryn, you assumed. there were already two bottles of wine sitting in a bucket of ice on the table. part of you considered pouring yourself a glass immediately, but you remembered the plans were dinner first, bar later. so you settled for water.

it was only a matter of maybe ten minutes before taryn was led to your table. you stood up with the rest of the girls and waited your turn to hug her. taryn saved you for last, smiling bright and wide when the two of you finally made eye contact. you squeezed each other tightly as you hugged, unspoken words being communicated.

“now, before anyone looks at the menu, i just wanted to let you know, it’s on brady tonight.” emma held up her hand as mouths began to protest across the table. “he insisted, and we won’t be taking no for an answer.”

and maybe you should’ve protested a little harder to look more sincere, but your job wasn’t paying you well enough to afford a 70 dollar steak and drinks.

the table breaks up into mini conversations while everyone was looking over the menu. you were doing the same when an elbow nudged you from the right. you glanced over at taryn who wasn’t even trying to hide the fact that she wanted your attention, it was something you’d always admired about her.

“long time, no see,” she said. but before you could respond, she spoke up again. “how have you been?”

you shrugged and moved your eyes back to the menu to look busy. “nothing has been going on really, just working.” you cleared your throat and hesitantly made eye contact again. “and you? what have you been up to?”

taryn shifted in her seat, a tell you knew was coming. you weren’t a stranger to where she’d been the past few weeks, you still followed her on instagram, you followed all of the tkachuks on instagram, even matt. so you knew she’d just gotten back after the panthers lost in game five of the finals.

you nudged her with your shoulder and gave her a small smile. “it’s okay, i’m not gonna burst into tears if you mention him.”

taryn smiled. “i’m exhausted, we were traveling everywhere for matt it felt like. it was cutting into my workouts.”

your jaw clenched at the mention of his name, mainly to distract you from feeling the ache in your chest, but you kept a pleasant look on your face anyway. “you still have the rest of the summer for your workouts, though. summer’s barely started.”

taryn nodded but she didn’t say anything for a moment. you started to shift in your seat when she reached a hand out and squeezed your own. “i miss you,” she said sincerely. “it hasn’t been the same without you around.”

“taryn...”

“you know, you’re still in, like, most of our family photos hanging on the wall. mom and dad haven’t taken them down.”

you weren’t sure if that made you happy or brought you pain.

“i begged them not to, you’re in too many memories for us to just forget you.” she cleared her throat and looked back at her menu, giving you a break from the sincere staredown the two of you were having. “they ask about you all the time, but they didn’t want to impose, mom especially. said she’d understand if you never wanted to see them again.”

you tried reading the menu through blurry eyes and pinched your lips together so no one would see them tremble. “i’ve been meaning to get coffee with your mom,” you said, though you both knew it was a lie. you’d made yourself scarce for a reason.

“she’d be happy to see you again, she just didn’t want to overstep.”

you nodded, still not looking at the girl you fully believed would be your sister one day. “i’ll text her.”

the waiter came by moments later to take your orders. thankfully, the tears had cleared up out of your eyes. as soon as you’d cleared your throat, you were telling the server your order without your voice shaking.

you bore the grief well, you thought. you laughed when everyone else did, smiled when appropriate, and asked follow up questions. socializing wasn’t hard, years of galas and charity events as matt’s plus one had trained you well for moments like these, so long as you avoided the eyes of taryn and emma, both of whom knew you better than anyone else at the table.

emma paid with brady’s card like she’d promised earlier. unfortunately for you, that’s when the anxiety started to come back. taryn was leaving after dinner, too young to go to the bars with the rest of you, and according to what emma had told you, she had plans with friends.

the group left together, with taryn waving goodbye as the rest of you headed to a bar three blocks away. your hands were shaking, so you shoved them in your pockets to hide the trembling.

it’d get better once you got a few drinks in you, you told yourself. you’d loosen up soon enough.

emma opened a tab with brady’s card and you immediately started going in. the group started with a round of shots, but you were quickly ordering more than just tequila. it was only a matter of time before your vision started lagging and your brain began buffering to keep up with what was happening.

you were on the dance floor, grinding against a stranger, who thankfully, was keeping their hands to themselves, when emma tugged your arm, giggling. “everyone else has left. and i think it’s time for us to go,” she slurred, a giant smile on her face.

you allowed yourself to be tugged away from the stranger. “how do you know?” you asked, fumbling over your words like trying to catch a bar of soap with wet hands.

emma smiled and pointed at the bar where brady was, you assumed, closing out the tab. seeing him in the flesh had your heart stuttering. the anxiety was kicking back in, hitting harder than it did when you were sober. you hadn’t seen brady since november, or was it december? the months had blurred together just like that one scene from new moon.

but now you were seeing him in the flesh, and he was getting closer as emma tugged you over to where he was. brady was just slipping his card back in his wallet when the two of you got to him. he looked up and smiled at his fianceé before he even realized you were standing there. the lovesick smile dropped but it was quickly replaced with shock before it was transformed into a smile you could’ve painted from memory.

“hey!” he said just loud enough to be heard over the noise. “i didn’t think you were coming tonight.”

if you were sober, you’d see that statement as a warning, preparation for what was to come. you would’ve noticed the way his eyes kept darting to the entrance of the bar, but you didn’t. you were just happy to see him for the first time in a while, feeling the semblance of home you’d been missing for months.

if you were sober, you would’ve remembered that brady and his brother were a package deal. you would’ve known that the nights brady wasn’t spending with emma, he was spending with your ex, and when emma had inevitably texted (or brady offered) her fiancé to pick her up, that he was more than likely already out with his brother celebrating his upcoming nuptials.

if you were sober, you would’ve noticed him walk through the door because your eyes were always drawn to him. you would’ve known it was him by the smell of his cologne, instead of waiting for him to slap his brother on the shoulder in greeting.

if you were sober, you would’ve made a break for it the second he started approaching you, emma, and brady.

but you were drunk off your ass, and all you could do was stand there like a dumbfounded idiot while matthew brendan tkachuk glanced around the room.

brady shifted on his feet a little, bracing for the moment you both knew was coming. the moment where matt saw you for the first time since november 29, when he played calgary. you’d imagine to brady, it felt like watching a car accident happen in real time. to you though, you were the accident. you were the one getting hit by a bus going full speed. you were rooted to the spot, taking in every feature of matt’s face that you’d missed over the last six months, waiting for him to see you.

if you were sober, you would’ve run away by now, knowing that being that close to him would do nothing for you.

but it was too late now.

matt finally glanced at emma, then brady, until his eyes landed on you. the smile on his lips from the song that was bumping through the speakers dropped almost immediately. he recoiled, took a small step back, almost as if he was shocked to see you there at all.

you felt like an idiot.

you weren’t sure how long the two of you stared at each other before you took a deep breath and stared at your shoes.

your hands were shaking again.

you shoved them in your pockets again.

matt’s eyes darted to your shorts at the movement, his eyes scrunched together in what looked like concern, but you brushed that thought off before you could convince yourself he still cared. but you could feel his stare on you, even as you looked around and avoided eye contact. you felt like an ant, with matt’s gaze being the magnifying glass that was burning you with a beam of sunlight.

“do you have a ride home?” brady asked. your head whipped back around to look at him and emma.

you shrugged, already feeling more sober than you were two minutes ago. “was gonna uber.”

matt scoffed. “not happening.”

out of nowhere anger bubbled out of your chest and out of your mouth. “excuse me?”

matt fixed you with a hard stare, one you didn’t shy away from. “you’re not ubering home on a friday night drunk as hell. it’s not happening.”

“i think you lost the right to make my decisions six months ago.” you refused to say his name, refused to know what it felt like to have it back on your tongue even though your heart was crying out to utter those two syllables again.

brady interjected before the disagreement could escalate. “i just wanna make sure you get home safe,” he said. “can i drive you home?”

you glanced at the man you used to know like a little brother. you saw the sincerity in his eyes, the concern.

and maybe it was the love for brady and emma that had you accepting. or maybe it was the alcohol. you nodded your head and let emma lock arms with you as you were led out by the tkachuk brothers.

you found yourself in the backseat where you used to hold hands with matt when you went on double dates with brady and emma. the two of you used to tease the younger couple when they did literally anything romantic. if brady so much as grabbed emma’s hand, the two of you were gagging in the backseat “choking on their pda” all while knowing brady and emma have caught you in more compromising positions before.

but it wasn’t like that this time around.

you slid into your usual seat in the back before emma could offer up shotgun to you. maybe if you were more selfish, you’d accept, but you weren’t going to let your friend sit away from her fiancé when you could just suck it up.

the space between you and matt felt too suffocatingly small and yet it still felt like you were on two opposite sides of the globe. you thought about taking a risk and throwing yourself out of the moving vehicle, but there was still a wedding you were both in. you needed to figure out how to tolerate being around him if you didn’t want to cause a scene later in the summer.

you just had to make it to the end of july, then you could go back and pretend like december 16th never happened, like the past nine years of your life never happened. like you never fell in love with your best friend, like you never met him and his mother in fourth grade, like your parents never moved you to st. louis. like there weren’t traces of your failed relationship in every scrapbook in your parents’ house, like he wasn’t tied to every significant moment of your childhood.

you felt like the bundle of christmas lights that you’d sworn you put back in an orderly fashion the previous year, only to pull them out and realize you had an entire project on your hands to detangle them all.

except in the end, none of the lights worked anyway.

you could hardly remember a time where your life wasn’t deeply intertwined with matthew’s. you thought it’d lead to something, to marriage, to raising kids together, to celebrating his retirement, buying a home close to his family, and growing fat and old together.

you hated the idea that you went down that road only for it to be a dead end.

brady pulled up outside your house. you were unbuckling your seat belt and throwing the door open before he’d even put the car in park. you were doing your best to get to the front porch before anything else happened, but as hard as you tried, you were still a little too drunk. you were stumbling up the driveway and to the front door, all the while trying to figure out which key was the key to your house.

a car door slammed in the distance before footsteps followed.

you knew the sound like you knew the sound of your mother’s sadness. you would’ve recognized his footfalls anywhere.

in your haste and anxiety, you dropped your keys. you squatted down and nearly tipped over at the rush to your head. matt’s hand shot out before you could grab the keys while his other hand grabbed your elbow and pulled you into a standing position. he led you to the front door and with ease, found your house key. he unlocked the door but didn’t move to open it. you could feel his stare on the side of your face, but you refused to look back.

his touch on your skin felt like it was burning, and part of you wanted to rip your arm out of his grasp, but you couldn’t.

you just—

couldn't.

matt said your name quietly, but you just shook your head, willing the tears to go away. he didn’t get to see you cry, didn’t get to know that his actions had absolutely wrecked you. he tried again, but you inhaled and jerked your arm out of his reach before you opened your front door, grabbed your keys, and shut it in his face.

you barely made it into your bathroom before you threw up.

before

you were bouncing on your toes at the airport. matt’s plane landed fifteen minutes ago, and you were anxiously waiting for him to round the corner.

matt’s first year with the ntdp made your relationship a little difficult, though, you thought it would be harder than it was. modern technology definitely made it easier on you. matt would call you just about every other night, and if he couldn’t, matt was texting you whenever he had the freetime.

the last time you saw each other was when you and the tkachuks spent your spring break in ann arbor to visit, and that had been over a month ago. thankfully, you’d managed to convince your mom to let you check out of school early to wait for him.

“someone’s excited,” taryn teased, bumping her shoulder into your side.

“honey leave her alone,” chantal chided. “we’re all excited.”

“i’m not,” brady grumbled. not even a beat later, keith was slapping the back of his head.

moments later, matt walked around the corner with his bags in hand. you fought every urge to run to him, deciding he probably wanted to greet his family first. and he did, you watched as he hugged his mom and dad first, moving the taryn, before punching brady in the shoulder.

you were nervously playing with the hem of your school issued plaid skirt as you looked on, suddenly feeling out of place. but it didn’t linger because in a blink of an eye, matt’s arms were wrapping around your waist and tugging you into his chest.

a sigh escaped your lips, one you didn’t even know was held hostage in your chest. maybe you were being dramatic (you were almost 16, after all), but it felt like the part of you that was missing was just returned.

“missed you,” he mumbled into your neck.

you couldn’t help the smile that graced your lips.

matt didn’t let go of you, even when everyone started walking towards the car where keith parked. your hand was tightly grasped in his own, forcing brady to carry the other bag matt couldn’t. to make up for it, you offered to sit in the back of keith’s escalade so brady could have more leg room. matt ended up grumbling about it, but it was clear he wasn’t going to let you sit in the back next to taryn when he hadn’t seen you in weeks.

“i ruined my perfect attendance streak for you,” you said as you traced the veins of his hands.

matt smirked. “i messed up little miss perfect’s squeaky clean record? how will you ever get into college now?”

you ripped your hand from his and shoved his shoulder, barely restraining yourself from cussing him out. “shut up,” was what you settled for because while taryn and brady had most definitely heard their fair share of curse words, you didn’t want to be the one on the receiving end of chantal’s disapproving look, even if it meant keith would be fighting for his life to hold back laughter.

all four of you, keith and chantal excluded, all but scrambled out of the car when it pulled into the garage. you and matt grabbed both of his bags before bum rushing into the house and up the stairs to his room.

“leave the door open!” chantal called from the first floor.

you didn’t need to see his face to know matt was rolling his eyes.

“i’m tempted to ignore her and just slam and lock the door,” he grumbled.

you dropped the bag you were holding and guffawed. “you wouldn’t. you love your mom.”

matt dropped his bag and immediately took the opportunity to grab you by the waist. “and i love you.”

you almost giggled, but you didn’t want to make a fool of yourself so you beamed instead. the first time he said those words was a few months ago over facetime and it still made you giddy as it did then.

matt pressed his forehead against yours. “you’re not gonna say it back?” he asked.

you blinked, still smiling. “what?”

“you're not gonna say you love me back?”

you shrugged, knowing it would get under his skin. you knew the consequences. “hm,” you hummed. “do i need to?”

matt rolled his eyes so hard you thought they might’ve gotten stuck in the back of his head. “quit being smart.”

and maybe you should’ve given up, maybe you should’ve let it go and say those three little words you’d said countless times before. but teasing him was way too much fun to pass up when you hadn’t seen him in months. so you pursed your lips and hummed again. “i seem to recall you saying you liked how smart i am. something about being the beauty and the brains?”

and out of nowhere, taryn popped her head in. “well matt for sure wasn’t going to be the beauty, and he’s never been the brains,” she smirked.

matt let go of you and marched over to the door, all but slamming it in her face.

“matthew brendan tkachuk! that door better be open!” chantal’s voice carried up the stairs had you lunging across the room and whipping open the door in a hurry.

“sorry mrs. tkachuk!” you called out before turning around and glaring at your boyfriend. “you’re a menace.”

matthew smirked and pulled you close enough that you were chest to chest. “but you love me.”

“i love you so much.”

after

the hangover you had the next morning was probably the worst you ever remember having. well, until you remembered the night matt broke up with you, that was the worst one.

you turned over in bed, picked up your phone, and saw multiple texts from emma and brady alike, both ranging from “it was great to see you” to “i’m so sorry about last night.” you groaned and dropped your phone back on the nightstand.

last night, when you thought about it, hurt more than it should’ve. you saw him for the first time in the flesh and it looked like he was fine, like he didn’t completely upend your life six months ago when he ended things. part of you wondered if he could see through you, through the illusion of your happiness and to the core where you were just as fractured as you were december 17th.

the rest of the weekend continued with you doing little to nothing but eating and binging trashy reality tv shows. when your alarm went off on monday morning, you contemplated calling off, but got dressed instead.

“you look like hell,” was the first thing frankie, your mentor and boss, said to you. because of the nature of your relationship, you felt comfortable flipping him off, even as he passed you a cup of coffee. “rough night?” he asked after watching you take a hefty sip of the hot beverage.

“rough weekend,” you grumbled.

frankie gave you a small smile and patted you on the back as the two of you walked to the workspace. “wanna talk about it?”

you recognized performative kindness when you saw it. while you firmly believed frankie cared about you and your wellbeing, you also knew he didn’t want to hear the sob story of how you ran into your ex drunk at a bar, at least, not at 8am. so you shook your head.

“i looked at some of your work on the bradshaw family’s piece so far, and i was impressed. i do have some notes, but for the most part, you’ve been doing a great job.”

you did your best to smile gratefully, but you weren’t sure it translated. “i really appreciate your guidance on this, and the trust you have to let me work on some of these projects.”

“you’re very talented,” he said. “you ever thought about creating something for yourself or someone else?”

there wasn’t a word to describe the noise that came out of your mouth. was it a nervous laugh? a squeak maybe? you didn’t know, and neither did frankie.

“what?” he asked. “why is that so scary?”

you shrugged as the two of you made it to the workspace. normally, you would start by pulling out the supplies you needed to begin working on the bradshaw piece, but if frankie met you at the door, it was because he wanted to have an impromptu meeting first.

“i feel like i’m good at fixing things,” you said. “maybe not creating something from thin air.”

“you have so much talent,” frankie replied. “i hate to see it wasted on fixing and preserving someone else’s work when you could be doing both. it could be your art that people hang in their houses and pay thousands of dollars to preserve.”

you nodded, but kept your eyes on the table, studying the wood grain and tracing the pattern with your finger.

“i don’t think i’m capable of that anymore.”

frankie reached over and squeezed your shoulder. “just think on it, okay? couldn’t hurt to just think on it.” he walked out a moment later, giving you space and time to queue up music and get started on the day.

you opened spotify and pressed the play button on your liked songs without even thinking about it. not even two seconds later, you regretted your decision. the soft tones and beats of frank ocean’s thinkin bout you echoed through the room and slammed against your chest. you immediately switched the song and found a classical playlist to listen to instead.

but the tune wouldn’t get out of your head.

not two minutes later.

not thirty minutes later.

not after your full eight hour shift spent hunched over your workstation.

not even on the drive home.

frank ocean’s voice permeated every fiber of your being.

it was simone who first showed you the song in high school. you remembered liking the melody enough, but you didn’t get the lyrics. and why would you? you were in love with your best friend who loved you back. even though you were fourteen and too young to even think about marriage, you knew matthew was going to be the person you ended up with. it was him or no one.

and now it was no one.

now, you listened to the song play over and over in your head, the lyrics resonating with you deeper than ever before.

you pulled into your driveway, completely unaware of what cars were parked in the street. they’d never mattered to you before. why would they now?

you sat in your car for a few minutes, taking a deep breath while you worked up the courage to go inside. when you finally got a grip on your emotions, you opened your door and grabbed your bag. you were too busy fumbling with your keys to notice anything amiss until you were on your porch and a pair of shoes came into sight.

“hey.”

it took everything in you not to scream. you dropped your keys and nearly dropped your bag. matthew stood on your front porch with his hands in the pockets in his shorts like he was innocent of any pain or suffering he’d caused you. he was in a pair of shorts and a t-shirt, and you hated yourself a little bit for thinking he’s attractive like that.

“what’re you doing here?” you hated how hoarse your voice sounded, like a low quality audio recording where things sounded muffled and broken.

“your dad wouldn’t let me in.”

“good.”

matt sighed and ran a hand down his face. “can we not do this?”

“not do what?” you asked. “not act like you ended things for no damn reason?”

“if you—”

“we dated for nearly ten years and you decided to end it over a five minute phone call. and you still think you’re entitled to my time?” and maybe you should’ve been kinder, maybe you should’ve been more civil. but you hadn’t seen or heard from him in months (until a few nights ago) and he just turned up out of the blue? expecting you to do what? forgive him? move on?

matthew said your name delicately, but not in the way he used to, like saying your name was a luxury he was honored to have. no, he said it like you were going to break, like you were fragile, like he wasn’t the sole cause of your pain. “please—”

the anger was draining out of you quicker. you were exhausted between work, and frank ocean’s stupid song, and the other night.

“what do you want?” your voice cracked on the last word. “wanna ruin my life a little bit more? put the final nail in the coffin?”

“no,” he shook his head fervently. matthew took a step towards you and looked something close to devastated when you stepped back. but it didn’t make sense, he ended it, he had no right to look or feel that way. “i just wanna talk.”

“six months,” you said, doing your best to keep your voice clear. “you had six months to say something. what could you possibly have to say now that you couldn’t then?”

“i know we didn’t end on the best of terms—” he started, but it was cut off by your scoff. you turned your head away and used your palm to wipe at your eyes before you crossed your arms over your chest. “—but i don’t think we should let this ruin brady and emma’s summer. we’re gonna see a lot of each other and i don’t want things to be tense around them.”

you took a minute to really look at him. blonde frizzy curls, blue eyes that wouldn’t leave your face. he hadn’t changed one bit.

one summer, you’d attempted to count the number of freckles on his shoulders. you got up to 87 before you gave up.

and yet you felt like you were standing in front of a stranger.

there were so many things you wanted to say, so many things you’d dreamt of screaming at him, but now that he was here, in front of you, asking something of you, you felt drained, tired. you used to crave his presence, now it felt like a leech.

you loved him, but he was sucking the life out of you.

so you nodded. you nodded and said “okay,” before you walked inside your front door and left your heart on the porch.

you pressed your back against the door and slid to the ground, pulling your knees to your chest. there was no telling when you started crying, or when your dad joined you on the floor, hugging you as close to his chest as he could.

“why wasn’t i enough?” you sobbed into your knees.

your dad petted your hair before he pressed a kiss there. “you’re more than enough, honey. but you can’t make anyone love you if they’re not willing to.”

“he used to!” you wailed. “he used to love me!” then, in a smaller voice, “what changed?”

a beat of silence, then your father’s somber, quiet voice. “maybe he did.”

before

“so what are your plans for after high school?” ms. meyer, your high school guidance counselor sat across from you at her desk. her stare was kind, but unwavering.

you’d already applied to notre dame, knowing that’s where matt committed. so when you answered, it was confident. it had been your plan since matt said yes to the school. “i’m going to notre dame and majoring in art history.”

“do you have any back up schools?”

you nodded. “ucla and the art institute of chicago.”

ms. meyer pursed her lips. “you know all of those places are highly competitive, right?”

“my transcripts and resume are impressive and I did really well on the SAT and ACT. i think i’ll be able to get in.” and you were, you were pretty confident as they come when it came to academics. any school would’ve been lucky to have you, that much you believed.

ms. meyer nodded. “i understand ucla and the art institute, both of those schools have incredible arts programs, but why notre dame? it doesn’t seem to fit with your aspirations.”

“oh,” you laughed under your breath. “that’s where my boyfriend is going.”

your guidance counselor blinked. “you’re incredibly smart and gifted, i’d hate to see that talent wasted when you could be developing it elsewhere. what do you want?”

“i want to be with matthew.”

ms. meyer sighed and gave you a sympathetic smile, you weren’t sure why though. you’d never been more sure of anything. “honey, can i be honest with you?” she didn’t wait for your response. “you have so much talent, so much to offer, i’ve seen many girls come in here, putting off aspirations for their significant others only for that relationship not to last.”

“i know we’re young,” you started, already feeling the heat rise up in your chest. she didn’t know anything about you personally, she didn’t know about you and matt. “but we’re gonna make it, i swear.”

ms. meyer nodded. “of course you are.” she cleared her throat and adjusted the papers in front of her. “so, notre dame...”

after

you weren't exactly sure what compelled you to do it, but at dinner a few nights ago, your mom had asked about what happened to simone, your friend from middle and high school. so you reached out, though it made you feel like you were contacting someone to join your mlm.

it legitimately surprised you when simone replied to your facebook message. the two of you made plans to get coffee on saturday.

and now it was saturday.

you weren’t getting coffee until 9:30, but you were awake and staring at your ceiling at 7. you’d done the due diligence of stalking simone’s profile, so you knew she was married with two kids who looked just like her. she worked as a data analyst for kroger and her husband was a public defender. she met her husband in college and they got married shortly after they graduated from grad and law school respectively.

if you were a better woman, you’d admit you were jealous. jealous that she got what she wanted in the end. but when you put that aside, you still felt overwhelming happiness at her station in life, regardless of how yours turned out.

you kept scrolling through her social media until it was eventually time for you to get up. you stayed to facebook, not even wanting to bother with going on instagram and accidentally stumbling across one of the tkachuks’ posts.

it was 9:10 when you finally finished getting dressed and ready. you came down the stairs and threw a goodbye over your shoulder before grabbing your crossbody bag and your keys and running out the door.

despite your sprinting and nearly running red lights, you were still five minutes late. you came into the coffee shop, gasping for air after sprinting down the sidewalk from your parking spot.

the second you entered the business, simone’s hand lifted and she smiled brightly, calling you over almost immediately. she stood to greet you, and like no time had passed, pulled you in for a hug.

“it’s so good to see you,” she said. “wasn’t sure if you still liked an iced chai latte, but i got one for you.”

“oh my god, yes,” you gasped before taking a seat and taking a sip of the beverage.

she kept smiling, which made you feel lighthearted for once. most people kept looking at you with pitying eyes, but simone saw you for more than the grief of the last six months. she had to know about it, she just had to, but you thanked her for not bringing it up in the first minute of your conversation.

“how’s work going?”

you shrugged. “it’s mostly tedious, but it’s been fine. what about you? working for kroger? that’s a huge deal.”

simone shook her head. “it’s just a means to an end, a way i can pay for my family’s lifestyle.”

“but are you passionate about what you do?”

she shrugged lightly. “it’s a job, it’s not my life. not everyone is going to work a job that fulfills them. my husband? he loves being a public defender, and he’s good at it. me though, as fun as analyzing data all day sounds and as helpful as it is, getting to have a job that doesn’t come home with me is probably my favorite part of it.”

you nodded along like you understood. and maybe you didn’t do a good enough job at being convincing because simone sighed.

“i wanted to wait to ask this, but i can’t hold it in any longer. how’re you holding up?”

it took you several seconds to answer her question. your mouth open and closed multiple times. “i— i don't know.” you sank back into your seat and picked at your cuticles. “it’s been a shitty few months,” you admitted. “you’d think i’d be over it by now.

simone shook her head and leaned in, arms braced on the table. “you two were together for a decade, what’s a few months in comparison to that?”

you shrugged. “i saw him the other night, when i went out drinking with the other bridesmaids. it was like, i don't know, i got dunked in an ice bath or something. he looked completely unaffected and i couldn’t breathe.”

simone whispered your name.

“but i’m fine!” you asserted. “i’m trying to be.”

simone nodded. “so what do you do now?”

you could’ve kissed her feet for the change in topic. “i’m working in the art restoration and conservation field.”

simone blinked. “you’re restoring art? do you like it?”

you shrugged. “most days, it can get repetitive, but that’s what i like.”

your friend sighed and fixed you with a soft, sympathetic look. “but is that what you want to do for the rest of your life? restoring someone else’s art? doing something repetitive? you are so talented, i hate to see you wasting that talent restoring someone else’s work.”

“it’s not a waste! it’s incredibly difficult and some things deserve to be preserved.”

“but some new things deserve to be created.” simone leaned in closer, her forearms braced on the table. “i think it would do you some good to start creating something again, even if it’s shitty. and you think you aren’t ready, just try something new. a new bar, a new hobby, a new man, something new.”

your stomach twisted at the thought of going on a date with someone other than matt, but simone was right. it had been six months and he seemed to be doing fine, it was your turn to start moving on, to find yourself again.

so you nodded. “we should do this more often,” you said. “i’ve missed you.”

simone smiled. “i’ve missed you too, i’m glad you’re home.”

you talked for another hour about everything the two of you had missed over the years of you being elsewhere before she had to leave and relieve the nanny at home. simone hugged you goodbye and texted you her new number before she left the coffee shop.

the drive home was quiet because you were pondering the things she’d said. you weren’t sure you were ready for making your own art, you sure as hell weren’t ready to go on a date. but maybe you should try.

maybe you were ready to put yourself first for once.

before

the biggest argument you’d had with matt was after you found out he wasn’t playing at notre dame at all, he was going to play for calgary.

you felt so stupid for committing to that school when you should’ve known your boyfriend was talented enough to skip it altogether. maybe you should’ve taken a gap year, then you wouldn’t have to be doing even more long distance in two different countries.

the two of you never argued, or maybe never was too strong of a word. you hardly ever had a disagreement if you thought about it long enough. most of the time, you suppressed the disappointment and the anger, shoving it to the side because you were surely being dramatic.

but now you were standing off to the side, waiting for your name to be called to cross the stage at your high school graduation, and you wished you’d said something to convince matthew to delay settling into his new calgary apartment with one of his teammates.

but you swallowed your disappointment and pride and just dealt with the fact that he wouldn’t be there.

it was fine.

just high school.

you were snapped out of your reverie when your name was called. you smiled and walked across the stage. when you dreamt of this exact moment, you always thought you’d walk with grace, that all noise would cease to exist as you honed in on the sheet of paper you’d spent the last 13 years working towards.

but it wasn’t like that.

because you heard one specific voice above all the others. as your principal handed you the diploma, your eyes searched the crowd and saw him.

matthew standing up and yelling with his family next to him. he had a sign, the words you couldn’t read because there were tears forming in your water line. he was pointing at you and kept yelling and clapping, hooting and hollering like it was his full time job. your parents were smiling, though they were seated, and your grandparents were stone faced clapping like they were at the masters tournament.

so you kept your eyes on him, even as you walked back to your seat. you might have stumbled, tripped even, but all you could see, all you could feel was him.

you were back in your seat by the time the person calling out the names spoke again.

“please hold your applause until the end.”

you could hear his scoff, even from your seat.

your leg bounced for the rest of the graduation ceremony. you didn’t even register the turning of your tassel. you just couldn’t wait for it to be over so you could be in matt’s arms.

as soon as the ceremony concluded, matt was shoving his way past families, nearly taking out an elderly gentleman in his quest to get to you. on the other hand, you were being pushed to move farther away from him as the procession of students filed out of the gym. you kept looking over your shoulder to find him, but it looked like brady had caught up to him, wrangling his older brother to follow the crowds outside.

“outside!” brady pointed.

you nodded.

as soon as you got through the gym doors, you were booking it outside into the sunlight. it blinded you momentarily, but you whipped your phone out seconds later to see if matt had texted you where he’d be. you pulled up his contact and were seconds away from calling him when arms wrapped around your waist and lifted you up into the air.

a squeal left your lips until he set you down a moment later. you spun around in his arms and before you could say anything, matthew was kissing you like no one else was around.

when the two of you finally needed air, you pulled away. “i thought you were in calgary!”

matthew scoffed though there was a large smile on his lips. “you thought i’d miss my favorite girl’s graduation? calgary can wait, your high school graduation only happens once.”

“i’m glad you’re here,” you whispered.

“me too, baby.”

unfortunately, matt pulled away so you could hug your parents and even your grandparents who were standing off to the side. taryn and brady pulled you into a group hug afterwards, with taryn going on a tangent about all the fun things the two of you would have to do before you left for school.

but brady was taking your graduation cap off your head to ruffle your hair as matt grabbed your purse and took your car keys out. keith and chantal were offering to pay for a celebratory lunch while your grandparents gave an irish goodbye. your parents were smiling, you were tucked into matt’s side, and brady and taryn were bickering and—

everything was perfect.

you wanted to freeze that moment, that sensation in your chest, take the saccharine feeling and bottle it up and store it on your bookshelf.

and if you could’ve, you would’ve savored the sensation of matt’s lips pressed to your temple while both of your dads discussed the best route to get to the restaurant.

but you had no idea how the future would turn out.

you thought matt was forever.

after

you were on a double date, or at least, hyping yourself up to go into the bar and meet up with simone, her husband, and a friend of theirs. you didn’t want to be a bitch, but you also didn’t want to send yourself into a panic attack. simone had suggested just entertaining something with someone, didn’t even have to be serious, it could just be sex.

you could do that, right?

just casual sex?

the thought was nauseating. you’d only slept with matthew, no one knew your body like he did and—

you stopped yourself before you could go down that rabbit hole.

your hands shook as you stepped out of your car and locked it. maybe you should’ve gotten an uber, but then again, you weren’t really planning on drinking like that. you were hoping you’d still be sober enough to go home.

the music in the bar shockingly wasn’t as loud as you expected. it wasn’t the bass bumping, ass grinding bar like the ones matt used to take you to after games. even still, your palms started sweating as you looked around. you spotted simone’s natural hair across the room and made your way towards her.

her husband, stephen, stood to greet you first, followed by simone, then lastly your date. a guy named andrew who was a partner at his firm, the youngest on his team.

his handshake was firm, but there were no calluses on his palm. his hair was slicked back with what you guessed was a pomade.

he was so unlike matthew it was alarming.

but maybe it was for the best.

you smiled and took your seat next to simone, you sipped on the water in front of you.

“we didn’t want to order drinks without you just yet.”

“thank you,” you mumbled just loud enough for everyone to hear.

“it’s nice to finally meet you,” andrew started. “simone spoke highly of you. she said you’ve been friends since middle school.”

you felt bad because simone didn’t really say much to you about him. if you were a gambler, you’d assume it was because she didn’t want you to back out. you barely even knew him and you were already comparing him to matt.

which wasn’t fair, you knew that. andrew deserved to be a human without the baggage of your last and only relationship determining how you viewed him.

you would try, at the very least for simone. at the very most, you’d try for yourself.

“nice to meet you too. i heard you’re a partner at your law firm? how is that going?”

oh god. you were so bad at this. asking about work on a friday night?

but he smiled. his teeth were perfectly straight and white. you'd bet your last dollar that he'd never needed braces, not like you did.

you hated yourself for thinking of the gap between matthew’s teeth.

“it’s going well,” he said. “lot of work, but i managed to get enough done this week that my friday was free. i wanted to meet the ‘best artist on planet earth,’ according to simone.”

“oh i don’t know about that,” you flushed.

simone scoffed. “don’t downplay yourself.” she turned to look at andrew. “you should see the art she created in high school as a teenager. it was so impressive.”

“what medium do you like working with the most?” he asked.

“mostly acrylic.”

andrew’s eyes lit up. “do you have any photos of your art? i’d love to see your work.”

you shook your head, feeling a little embarrassed at all the attention. “i don’t really paint like that anymore. i work in art conservation now, not a whole lot of time to create something new.”

“that’s such a unique career! what does your average day look like?” andrew leaned forward a little and took a sip of his water.

you told him a little bit about what you did. about how you spent hours hunched over a painting and fixing the smallest problems in hopes it would satisfy the client.

“you must’ve gone to some prestigious art school for that. if you don’t mind me asking, where did you go to college?”

your spine stiffened. “university of calgary.”

and just like you anticipated, his face twisted in confusion. there was no logical reason you should’ve gone out of the country for a regular school. it would be one thing if you went to an art institute, but you didn’t.

“why calgary?” he asked. “seems a bit random, if you don’t mind me asking.”

you shifted in your seat and wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes. it wasn’t until you cleared your throat in a sorry attempt to get the lump out, that you spoke. “it’s a long story,” you said. “thought i had a future in calgary.”

andrew, to his credit, knew when to not ask questions and changed the subject immediately.

the rest of the night passed in a blur. you were only halfway present, your mind reeling at how you wasted those years in calgary waiting for a man who would dump you as soon as he moved to a warmer state.

he, quite literally, left you in the cold.

andrew offered to walk you to your car, an offer you accepted because it was dark and st. louis.

“i had a great time tonight,” he said. “it was really nice to meet you. you’re even better than simone and stephen said.”

you gave him a small smile. “it was nice to meet you too.”

andrew shifted on his feet. for a moment, he didn’t look the part of the youngest partner at his law firm, he looked like a boy. “i was hoping maybe you’d want to do this again? maybe get some dinner?”

your throat felt like someone had force fed you cotton balls. but then you thought about how pathetic your life had been the last six months, how pathetic it was going to be when you flew to new jersey to be in the same bridal party as your ex.

you refused to be pathetic any longer.

which is probably why you smiled (albeit shakily) and said yes.

before

you were bouncing on your toes in the hallway as you waited for matt. it was a brutal game, and he spent a good portion of it in the penalty box, mostly for minor things, but one incident was for fighting. which wasn’t atypical, but you’d never seen him that keyed up before.

and given his reputation, there were any number of things that could’ve caused the fight itself. two weeks ago, matt had fought someone for being too forceful with one of his teammates, which after years of watching the game, was on par with the sport and your boyfriend.

because he fought so much, you weren’t necessarily surprised whenever he did. sure, you flinched when he was punched, knowing how badly it would bruise, praying to whatever higher power existed that he would still have all his teeth. but usually, matt wasn’t trying to fight everyone on the ice at all times.

tonight was different.

safe to say, you were a little anxious waiting for him to come out.

you weren’t exactly sure about what was said on the ice to get him so riled up. the worst you’d seen was when someone on the other team said something about taryn. you used to think that was the angriest you ever saw him. and it was.

until tonight.

you could feel the energy rolling off of him in waves as he exited the locker room. usually, after a win, matt is relaxed and easy going, but despite the victory from tonight, he was tense and pent up, frustrated even.

“hey,” you said, meeting him halfway.

matthew didn’t respond, just dropped his bag and wrapped you up in a hug, tucking his head into the space where your neck met your shoulder.

“you okay?” you asked.

he nodded. he squeezed your waist once before letting go, taking your hand instead. “ready to go?”

the car ride was silent minus the music matthew had playing through the aux. his hand rested on your thigh, though the grip was particularly tighter than normal, especially after a win. part of you wanted to ask, the other part not wanting to spoil the rest of the night with your curiosity.

but this was the man you loved. and it hurt you to see him this upset.

normally, you would’ve left well enough alone, but you were going back to notre dame in two days and didn’t want to spend the rest of your time walking on eggshells around him. you couldn’t help him if you didn’t know what was wrong.

“what happened?” you asked when the car came to a stop at a light.

“nothing,” he grunted.

“your team won and you’re still grumpy, matthew. so tell me, what happened? i want to help you.”

“there’s nothing to help.”

“matthew,” you groaned. “i’m only here for two days, can you just be honest with me? i don’t wanna waste the rest of my trip with you being upset when i can help you—”

“then go back to indiana!” he all but yelled, ripping his hand off your thigh so he could shove it through his disheveled hair.

your jaw dropped. in all the years you’d known matt, he'd never talked to you that way. and you weren’t starting a bad habit by letting him think he could ever do it again. you unbuckled your seat belt and grabbed your bag. you tugged on the handle of the door. “i’ll see you at home,” you said.

matt scoffed. “don’t be dramatic.”

“i’m not being ‘dramatic,’ matthew. you’re being an asshole.” you braced yourself for the cold as the door opened and let in a cold breeze.

matthew called your name, but you ignored him and slammed the car door shut. it was a little petty, considering how matt had berated his siblings over the same thing.

a car honked, probably because the light had turned green and matt was still sitting at the light, looking at you.

a cold wind blew and for a moment, you thought about hopping back in the car with matt, but he was pulling away and your pride wasn’t ready to take a hit just yet.

his car sped away until, with an efficiency you only wish you had, he parallel parked in a spot just up the road.

“get in the car,” he called, slamming his car door shut. “it’s too cold for you to be proving a point.”

“and what point am i trying to prove, matthew?” you asked over your shoulder.

you kept walking.

“would you please stop walking and just get back in the car?”

you kept walking.

a hand reached out and grabbed your wrist, you might’ve shrieked had it not been gentle, had you not recognized the scent of matt’s cologne.

gently, he turned you around.

“baby, just get in the car. you don’t even have to talk to me. don't even have to look at me if you don’t want to. i’ll sleep on the couch or something, but it’s not safe for you to be walking home alone.” he ran his thumb back and forth over your pulse point in a soothing manner.

you kept your eyes on his hand. “what happened during the game?

he sighed, shoulders sagging like they were tired from carrying the weight of the world. “they were talking shit.”

you blinked. “and that’s different....how?”

with the hand that wasn’t holding your wrist, matthew pinched the bridge of his nose. “they were talking shit about you. saying you deserved better and shit.”

“matthew, you know that’s not true—”

“they called you names.” his voice was dark, angrier than you'd ever heard before. “things i’m not comfortable repeating.”

a shiver went down your spine, for matt to be that upset made you uncomfortable. you didn’t want to think about what they said, you didn’t want to dwell on it any longer.

“well,” you said, voice feeling small and weak in your throat. “well, we know it’s not true, so it doesn’t matter.” you tried to make your way back to the car, but matt’s grip on your wrist stopped you.

“but it does matter,” he insisted. “what they said, i get it wasn't true, you and i both know that. but i’m not gonna let anyone talk shit about you, i don’t care who they are.”

your eyes finally met his own and in the blue you saw determination and conviction there. you started towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist.

“i love you, matty.”

he kissed the top of your head. “love you more.”

after

“where are you going?” your mom asked from the couch.

your dad looked up from his james patterson book to squint at your outfit: a square neck black dress. “are you going out?” he chimed in.

you felt sheepish, like the fifteen year old girl going on her first solo date, no parents picking her up because matt just got his license. “remember that guy i went on a double date with?”

“with simone and her husband?” you mom asked.

you nodded. “we’re going out again, just us tonight.”

your mother gave you a small smile while you dad kept staring. “have fun, sweetheart.”

your dad, however, put his book down and looked at you above the rim of his glasses. “are you gonna be okay?”

“alan, this will be good for her!”

but your dad’s eyes never left your face. “you’ll call if you need something?”

“andrew’s a good guy, dad.” or at least, you were assuming so. you’d only met the guy one other time and he seemed alright.

but you could see the look in your father’s eyes, you could hear what he wasn’t saying.

so was matthew.

you swallowed and nodded at your parents. your phone pinged with a notification that your uber was outside. “i’ll be back.”

the drive to the bar was silent. usually, you wouldn’t have taken an uber, but you were unsure how drunk you would get tonight. the date could go well, it could be everything you wanted, even if all you wanted was matthew.

but you were prepared for the worst. you were prepared to drink until you couldn’t see straight just to get through the night.

andrew was a nice guy, but he wasn’t who you wanted.

and you hated yourself for it.

the uber pulled up to the bar. and simply because he didn’t kidnap or talk to you, you gave the driver five stars.

andrew was waiting at a high top table for you, a glass of water ready to go. you waved at him and carefully made your way across the room, avoiding people and drinks and people with drinks.

“hey,” he greeted.

you gave him a small smile. “hi.”

“was traffic bad on your way here? i wasn’t sure, given that it’s friday and what not.”

you shook your head. “not too bad.”

c’mon, think of something. say something. anything.

“crazy busy tonight, huh?” you wanted to facepalm. that was what you came up with? all the words in the world and that was what you—

“yeah,” andrew cut off your mental tirade. “i think some famous guys are here tonight, heard murmurs of it.”

you nearly broke out into a cold sweat. “d-do you know who?”

andrew shrugged. “i didn’t ask, i just heard someone talking about it when i was getting a drink.” then, like he finally realized, he snapped. “do you want anything? i can grab it for you.”

you gave him your drink order with a smile. he tapped the table with his knuckles before promising he'd be right back.

you traced the grain of the table with your finger, allowing it to feel the grooves and water stains left from other customers. it felt awkward, sitting by yourself with no one to talk to. andrew said he'd be back, but the bar was busy, it could be ten, fifteen minutes before he'd come back.

your phone buzzed.

simone:

how’s it going?

you smiled despite yourself.

you:

he’s nice. he went to get me a drink.

you put your phone down to look around the bar. it was busier than normal, or at least, what you thought was normal.

you were scrolling through your social media feeds when andrew finally came back. he had your drink in hand with a smile on his face.

“sorry, the line took forever,” he said.

you glanced at the bar to see a small crowd of people. “doesn’t surprise me,” you said. “friday’s are usually busy.”

“yeah especially when there’s two hockey players in town. heard someone at the bar talking about it, thought you might wanna know. simone said you were a fan?”

your stomach dropped to your feet. you took a hefty sip of your drink to avoid andrew seeing a frown on your face. there was a chance that it was a blues player still in town, but your gut knew better. if you were a betting woman, you'd bet your last dollar on it being brady and matt.

you wanted to throw up.

instead, you chugged the drink.

“whoa, you okay?” andrew’s eyes widened a little, maybe in concern, but there was something about the smirk on his face that said otherwise.

you gave him a shaky smile. “just fine. can i get another drink?”

he smiled immediately and got up to get you another.

and another.

your vision was blurring a little when you tried to cut yourself off, even as andrew was sliding another glass in front of you. you threw the drink back again, not even blinking at it.

matt and brady could be here. it was too soon to see them again, you weren't prepared to see them again. maybe if you drank enough, you’d black out and forget all about tonight.

but then andrew was grabbing your elbow, he was leading you towards the door, encroaching upon your personal space. his lips were on your neck, whispers of what he had planned for you.

your skin crawled, you wanted him off of you, but your arms were sluggish, you were tripping over your feet and he was the only thing holding you up.

“no,” you slurred. “lemme go.”

but he either didn’t hear you or was ignoring you because he kept dragging you to the door.

then the panic set in.

it felt like it came out of nowhere, but maybe the surmounting panic was always there like a loyal friend. you tried squirming out of his grip, shoving at his chest, but the panic was building the longer he held onto you. your head was shaking furiously, your mouth doing its best to protest, but it was like the alcohol made your tongue heavy.

“lemme go—” you tried shoving one more time before you heard a shout in the distance.

“hey!” you weren’t aware of the people around you being shoved to the side, you were unaware of the rage surrounding you. you were unaware until andrew was ripped away and you were being shoved into another body.

“matt hey—”

brady. you were right, brady was here.

god you loved brady.

“brady?” you slurred, smiling lazily up at him. “you’re here! why’re you here?”

with one arm, brady kept you pressed to him, but he wasn’t acknowledging you. his eyes were focused on his brother holding the collar of your date.

oh. your date.

there was no rhyme or reason for the feeling of horror that washed over you when you realized what almost happened before matt and brady showed up.

you were gonna throw up.

or pass out.

you weren’t sure when you started hyperventilating, but it felt like the walls were closing in. was the music always this loud? was matt always that loud when yelling? you wouldn’t know, he hardly ever yelled at you—

“hey,” brady’s gentle voice sounded it your ear, but it was like you were hearing it from underwater. “hey, breathe, it’s okay. you’re safe now.”

the funny thing about hyperventilating is no one wants to be hyperventilating. it’s similar to worrying in that telling someone to stop worrying is ineffective. brady telling you to breathe wasn’t helping because it wasn’t like you wanted to be light headed and struggling to get oxygen.

your mind was just racing with the thoughts of what almost happened.

were your hands shaking? or was the world just rocky? was it the alcohol? why did andrew give you so much? was he planning on—

oh god.

“matt!” brady’s voice again sounding like a deep echo in a cave, one you could barely hear. “matt, i think he got the point, she needs you.”

did you?

but it didn’t matter what you thought, because you were being gently pulled into a pair of arms you would’ve recognized anywhere. you could be deaf, blind, and mute, you could’ve had your nose plugged so you couldn’t smell his aftershave and you still would’ve known it was matt. his arms were the only ones that felt like home.

maybe it was the way your head tucked under his chin perfectly, or the way you could hold your own hand when you wrapped your arms around his waist. maybe it was the way matt tried to fit you into his ribcage whenever he hugged you.

“hey,” his voice was quiet, hoarse from the yelling probably. “you’re okay, i’ve got you. nothing’s gonna hurt you, not while i’m here.” his lips were on the top of your head, mumbling the words into your hair.

“he—he was gonna—”

matt was shushing you, running a hand up and down your back. “do you wanna go outside? get some fresh air?” you nodded against his chest, a place you used to lay your head on at night.

matt walked you outside, brady not far behind. he was supporting most of your weight. you were still incredibly drunk even if the event that just happened sobered you up a little.

your hands were still shaking, your knees a little weak, though you weren’t sure what the original cause of that was. if it was from alcohol, the sleazy date, or just being held by your ex, you weren’t sure.

what a year tonight has been.

your heartbeat slowed down as you listened to matt’s. his hand continued to rub your back in long lines.

“you’re okay,” he continued to say. “i’m not gonna leave you. you’re safe right here, baby.”

your heart soared at the pet name until gravity kicked in and you were right back where you started.

rock bottom.

you pushed away from matt, now that your heart rate had decreased. you stumbled a bit from the lack of stability, but you managed to right yourself before matt could get his hands on you to help you balance.

“you okay?” he asked.

“no,” you mumbled, shaking your head despite the world feeling like it was spinning too fast already. “no. i’m not okay.”

matt took a step towards you, it was like watching a film in slow motion, seeing his face fall as you immediately took a step back.

“baby i—”

“stop! stop calling me that!” you yelled even as your words slurred, throwing your hands up in the air before pulling at your hair. “you—you don’t get to call me that, not anymore. and you certainly don’t get to ride in like some white knight coming to my rescue either!”

“what’re you—” he cut himself off before running a hand down his face. “he was going to hurt you, i wasn’t going to let that happen!”

maybe it was the alcohol that made you more honest than normal. “why? you don’t seem to care what happens anyway?”

“what the hell are you talking about? i would never let someone hurt you, not if i can stop it.”

“but you had no problem hurting me? leaving me in a country alone?”

matt’s jaw dropped. “you can’t seriously be comparing the two. he—he almost—he had every intention of—” but he kept cutting himself off. and by the looks of his clenched fists, it was hurting him more just thinking about it.

and he was right, what almost happened with andrew and what actually happened at the hands of matt were two different things, but it hurt more from matt, the man who swore he’d be at your side, to love you through it all. he’d dropped you like a bad habit and was expecting everything to be normal again? like you hadn’t spent over half your life completely in love with him?

you sighed, your shoulders sagged, all fight evaporating your body once more. “thanks for help, i’ll see you around.” you turned on your heel and nearly ran into brady, whom you forgot was even there.

“let me drive you home,” brady said. “‘s the least i could do.”

brady at least let you sit shotgun this time, with matt in the back. and when he pulled up to your house, matt was the one to walk you to the door like he had many times before.

“can we talk?” he asked. “sometime this week? or next? or whenever you're free?”

you looked at him, really looked at him. his hands shook at his sides and you longed to hold them in your own to steady them like he did for you earlier. “why’re you doing this to me? why can’t you just leave me be?”

matt stared at you before he pressed his lips together. he looked off to the side almost like he was looking at brady waiting in the car or a scrap of self control, or maybe just the right words to say. “i don’t think i’m capable of letting you go.”

your voice caught on the words in your throat. “i need you to try, matt. because i can’t keep doing this. you can’t call me baby when i’m not your baby anymore.”

he nodded. “just one conversation, i promise.”

you should say no. you should just let it go, but you didn’t think you could deny matt anything if he really asked for it. “okay,” you said. “just one conversation.”

#matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl blurb

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watchyourbuck · 5 days

Text

Buck flicks the tiny brush one more time before setting it down on the sink. It looks… decent. It’s a bi flag, just— a tiny bit more purple than the one he copied from Pinterest. But it works.

“Hey, babe!” Buck calls, tilting his head against the bathroom lights so he can see the flag shine in the mirror. “I’m almost ready!”

This is his first pride as a member of the community instead of just an ally, and his excitement is through the roof. He called Hen and Karen ahead of time to make sure they’d be there, actually. He can’t wait.

“Take your time, Evan,” Tommy says from the bedroom, presumably scrolling on his phone. “We have an hour still.”

“I wanna get there early! The Instagram post said there’d be rainbow cupcakes for the first hundred people!”

Buck steps back to admire his whole ensamble. Tight faux leather pants and a white crop top that says ‘if lost, return to Tommy.’ He’s also got a few rainbow bracelets on and they’re each carrying their own flag — which reminds him he has to get them from the car.

He smiles and makes his way out of the bathroom, only to come to a halt when he sees Tommy getting into his ‘I’m Tommy’ shirt. “Oh.”

Tommy turns to look at him with a frown. He stands up and takes a few steps closer. “What? What’s wrong?”

“Am I doing too much?” Buck asks rashly, his eyes widening. “I’m doing too much, aren’t I?”

Before he can fully panic, Tommy puts his hands on Buck’s waist, pulling him a little closer with a stern look. “Okay, no. You’re not doing too much. Where’s that coming from?”

“You just— you look so,” he gestures vaguely to his boyfriend, opening and closing his mouth a few times. “So day to day.”

Tommy smiles amusedly. “Evan, the fact that I personally don’t enjoy painting a — beautiful, by the way —,” he adds and Buck preens, “pride flag on my cheek doesn’t mean you shouldn’t.” He closes the distance to give him a peck. “You look amazing.”

“I’ve just never—,” he says, clearing his throat. “I’ve never dressed like this before. Never wanted to before today.”

Tommy puts his thumb and index on Buck’s chin and tilts his head to the sides a few times, admiring his handy-work. “So?”

“So, I don’t wanna seem— I don’t know, too eager? Like, the community has gone through- through enough, right? They don’t need a-a man who found out basically yesterday that—.”

He doesn’t get to keep talking because Tommy kisses him again. More intently this time. Buck melts after a second, kissing him back. His heart starts slowing down.

Tommy pulls back, kissing along his jaw. He’s careful enough to not rub off any of the makeup. “You deserve to be there as much as everyone else.” His voice is soft and Buck can’t help but to lean into his touch. “You deserve to celebrate however you want.”

Buck pulls away, looking into his eyes. “What if— what if one day I don’t— I don’t wanna go? Or I rather just— just spend the day with you? Just us?”

Tommy smiles again. “Then we do just that. You don’t have to wear rainbow socks or underwear every year to be proud of who you are, Evan.”

“I’m definitely not wearing any rainbow underwear right now,” Buck says, blushing a little.

Tommy scoffs, closing his eyes for a second. “Neither am I.”

Buck’s fingers curl on Tommy’s belt loops, pulling him closer and trying to look down his pants. “Yeah? Are you wearing any underwear at all?”

“Careful,” Tommy warns, and a low groan’s already starting to form on Buck’s throat. “Or we’ll be late.”

“I thought you said we had an hour still,” Buck insists, looking up, a smirk tugging at his lips. He puts his other hand on Tommy’s hips, pinching at the skin above the hem.

“And I thought you said you wanted to get there early. Something about… rainbow cupcakes?”

Bucks chuckles, walking them both back until the back of Tommy’s knees hit the bed and they fall onto it. “Fuck the cupcakes,” Buck says, pulling up Tommy’s shirt to mouth over his abs. “We can get our own on our way there.”

Tommy laughs, curling his fingers on Buck’s hair and pulling him up for a filthy kiss.

(Happy pride everyone! <3)

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