✯𝐅𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮✯

Lacey 🎀 — Matt Sturniolo x Fem!Reader PT2

PT 1 <- Read this one first lovelies

Word Count: 3k

Contains: Pregnancy, mentions of sex, Matt being a pervert, A very emotional

woman

Remember when I said I wasn't writing pregnancy?? | lied....

PS: If you like pistachio ice cream you're getting flamed... sorry not sorry

Matt tells you too often to let him do his job, but you don’t listen to him. Maybe you will after a long work shift, but night after night, you wake up to his daughter crying, mumble an “I’ll get it,” and hush the girl back to sleep, clad in your boyfriend's shirt.

The routine you two had mirrored that of a married couple. Matt wanted it to be his job entirely, but you’d convinced him that whoever gets up first puts Lacey back to sleep. Matt never gets up first.

You walk back into Matt’s room holding your shirt. “She threw up on me.” You purse your lips, peering down at the spit stain with a sour look on your face. Matt laughs. “She wouldn’t have thrown up on you if you let me get her.”

You sigh, peeling off your (Matt’s) shirt and grabbing another from his drawer. “I like getting her,” you hum, sinking into bed again. Matt pulls his arms around your torso, resting his head in the crook of your neck. “You won't like it after another year of it.” Butterflies fill your stomach.

Another year. Another year with Matt.

…

The grocery store was the last thing on Matt’s long to-do list for the weekend.

In the morning, before you realized how many things Matt planned for you to do, you agreed to walk. You regretted that deviation now after nearly footing yourself across the city and back. Your temper was short, and your feet were sore.

Matt presses a kiss to your cheek, noticing your tired eyes. “We just have to get baby food, then we’ll go home,” he mutters. You hum, mumbling out a “fine” and entering the supermarket.

The first thing you notice is how long the checkout lines are, and you groan. Matt notices this and laughs. “You get in line, and I’ll go get the food,” he says. You nod, letting out a moody sigh and taking steer of Lacey's stroller, heading to the checkout line.

You stay put in line, rocking Lacey's stroller back and forth, trying to keep the bustling ambiance of the store from waking her up. You fail, but continue to rock her stroller, this time in an attempt to put her back to sleep.

“You shouldn’t rock her like that. Babies get motion sickness too easily,” an old lady, presumably in her late forties, interjects, approaching you.

You shoot her a pursed smile, slowly halting the stroller rocking. “She likes it when I do it,” you quip.

She peeks at Lacey, who rests her head against the stroller's side, a small string of drool escaping her mouth while she clutches the stuffed bear you’d bought for her.

“She’s adorable, how old is she?”

“One and a half,” you reply curtly, not generally enjoying your conversation with the lady because it always leads to you awkwardly confessing you're not her mother and that you're not married to her father. Not to mention, this woman seems particularly judgy.

The lady nods, encouraging you to go further into detail about Lacey, something you don’t particularly want to do.

Matt approaches from the infant aisle to your ease, clutching Lacey's food. “Hey babe,” he smiles.

You let out a sigh of relief as he approached. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it's making excuses to get out of conversing with others. You wave him over, “Hey,” you hum, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek. His eyes dart between you and the woman, asking who she is with his gaze. “This is her father?” She asks, returning to Matt. You nod, pursing your lips into a smile. You clutch the bar of Lacey’s stroller and start forward, trying to avoid questions you know are coming:

“How long have you been married?”

“Was the pregnancy terrible?”

“How’d you choose her name?”

All questions you’d gotten—all questions you couldn’t answer.

“It was nice to meet you, ma’am,” you smile. Her eyes glance at your hands as you grip the stroller bar, your left hand specifically. She was looking for a ring. She was looking for a ring and didn’t find one because you weren’t married to Matt nor were you Lacey's mother. The lady's face soured; she paused lightly, pointing to your bare ring finger. “You two aren’t married?”

You sigh awkwardly, stopping dead in your tracks and biting your lip. Who does this lady think she is? “No, we—“

Matt interrupts you, snaking an arm over your shoulder. “Our rings are at the cleaners,” he bites, “The rings are being cleaned because me and my wife have obviously been married for a long time.” He gestures to Lacey as he says this. You flush at Matt’s statement but hold eye contact with the lady, who is now also flustered. She grudgingly spits out an apology. Once she’s out of earshot, you laugh and turn to Matt.

“So, Matthew, when were you going to tell me we’re married?” You smile, and Matt shakes his head. “I have never in my life met a bitchier fifty-year-old woman,” he jeers. You laugh, and then your expression fades to a serious one. “No swearing in front of Lacey!” You chide, raising a finger to his lips. Matt bites his lip playfully, “She’s not sleeping?” You shake your head in response, “She woke up when you went to get the eggs.” Matt leans over the stroller and looks at a very awake Lacey. Once she realizes his attention is on her, she smiles and holds her teddy out to him. “Hi, baby,” he coos, ruffling her thin hair.

You and Matt move up in line, close to the section where last-minute candies are displayed in the store's desperate attempts to drain consumers' money. Fortunately for the business, you are one of those consumers. Matt watches you as you pull a chocolate bar out of the display box, then another, and another, and another.

“Can you buy me these?” You ask, holding the sweets up to him. Matt laughs. “Yes, I’ll buy you those.”

…

“You know, that woman in line was so rude!” You pout, bringing up the incident for the sixth time as you reach Matt's door. Matt laughs, “Why are you letting her get to you this much baby?”

You frown. “I don’t know…” You pause for a second before continuing your rant. “She could’ve just kept her mouth shut! There was no reason she had to ask so many questions about our personal lives,” you huff, “And her perfume smelled bad.”

Matt chuckles at your pettiness and keys open his apartment door. “You have the perfume she was wearing,” he grins, creaking the door open. You step inside.

“No, I don’t. That perfume smelled horrid.”

“It’s the second one to the right on your perfume shelf. You wore it on our first date.”

You blink at his persistence but shake your head. No way you’d wear a perfume that pungent. “Come here,” Matt says, walking to your shared room. You follow behind him, and he points to a small vanilla bottle. “That’s the perfume that lady was wearing,” he points with a smirk on his face. You grab the perfume and spray it on the ball of your wrist. When you bring your arm up to smell it, your eyes widen. It was the perfume the lady was wearing, and the smell made you want to hurl.

You gulp back the contents of your stomach and push Matt to the hall. “Go get Lacey; she’s still in her stroller,” you blurt.

Matt nods and leaves the room. Once he’s out of sight, you make a beeline for the bathroom and empty your guts into the toilet.

You grip the toilet's edges and throw up your breakfast and lunch… to the smell of vanilla.

You stand and flush the toilet, contemplating what the hell just happened. You find the sink and wash your hands and wrists, making sure the soap erased all of the vanilla scent.

You stare at yourself in the mirror. That perfume was one of your signature scents; you wore vanilla and daisy perfume. You’d been leaning into newer scents lately, but there was no way the smell of vanilla would ever make you hurl.

Your train of thought is interrupted by an energetic Lacey. She stomps into the bathroom and grabs your damp hand, leaving you to forget what you were thinking about.

“Show time! Show time!” Lacey repeats, pulling you out of the room with as much force as she can muster. You laugh and walk out with her, and Matt smiles from the sofa when he sees you tread into the room. “We’re watching Tangled,” he announces, patting the spot next to him for you to sit. He pulls Lacey into his lap, and you nestle your head into the crook of his shoulder.

“Whose choice was it?” You joke. Matt smiles, pressing a kiss to your temple, then one to Lacey's. “It was the choice of this little princess,” he smiles, wrapping his arms around Lacey's torso and hugging her close to him.

Lacey falls asleep after the second musical number. That’s when you and Matt stop watching the movie, given it was Lacey’s favorite and you’d seen it several times.

Matt moves Lacey to her crib and meets you in your shared room. Too tired to shower, you peel your shirt off, ready to switch into a nightshirt but pause. “Matt… look at me,” you say, turning to face him.

Matt immediately raises a brow. “Not like that!” You huff, “Stop being perverted!”

Matt raises his hands in innocence. “You're standing there without a shirt on telling me to look at you, and I’m the perverted one?”

You feel your cheeks flushing and bite your lip. “No, like— do you notice anything different?”

“You look beautiful, Y/N.”

”Yeah, but—“

Matt cuts you off. “Your body is perfect exactly like that.”

Your face scrunches in annoyance. “No—Matt! Do my boobs look bigger?!” You exclaim.

Matt's eyes widen at your outburst. He takes the opportunity to study your chest (for far too long) before nodding, “Yeah, they do look bigger.”

He approaches behind you and cups your tits with his palms, giving them a slight squeeze. You wince at his motion, sucking your teeth. “Fuck. Sorry! Did that hurt?” Matt immediately drops his hands.

You shake your head, “No, I don’t know why I did that,” you fabricate, lying through your teeth.

Matt pecks butterfly kisses down your neck. “Let's go to bed.”

…

Lacey rarely disagrees with you. She disagrees with Matt plenty, but when it comes to you, you're her biggest role model.

She does not want to leave the park. You don’t know how to get her to leave the park without putting your foot down, and something you're incapable of doing is being stern with Lacey.

“Lace, c’mon, let's go to daddy.”

“No.” Lacey crosses her arms. ”Hunny, it's time to go home.” You try.

“No.”

“Lacey—“ The toddler ignores you, and your lip starts to tremble. Where is this flood of emotion coming from?

You try one more time before Lacey’s constant rebuffs break you, and crocodile tears start streaming down your face.

“Y/N?”

Matt's hand is on your shoulder, urging you to get up from your crouching position. You stand up and attempt to wipe your tears away with the back of your hand.

“What’s wrong, baby?” He questions, picking Lacey up to hold her at his hip. You sniffle. “She wont listen to me.”

Lacey protests loudly as Matt picks her up, babbling little “no’s” repeatedly. “Lace, do you want ice cream?” Matt coos, effectively pacifying the toddler who loudly babbles in response.

Matt is confused, judging by how many chocolate bars you’d purchased earlier, he guessed you were on your period, but he heavily doubted anything Lacey said or did would make you this emotional period or not.

“Y/N, is everything at work okay?”

You nod, urging him that everything is fine. It’s the truth. Matt doesn’t quite believe you, skepticism laced in his eyes.

“Do both of my girls need ice cream?” He asks. You nod.

Pistachio ice cream is disgusting. This was something you and Matt both agreed on: If you order pistachio ice cream, you're over the age of fifty or you have broken taste buds.

So when you lean over the counter and ask the clerk behind the glass for a large pistachio ice cream, Matt stares at you with a mix of confusion and amusement but follows in ordering Lacey a kiddie-sized vanilla.

“You ordered pistachio ice cream,” Matt teases, bopping Lacey's nose with his finger, and she laughs. “She ordered pistachio ice cream, Lace, isn’t that weird.”

It’s obvious Lacey doesn’t know what he’s saying, but she still giggles at her father's antics. You cross your arms playfully, “shut up.” You huff, spooning the ice cream into your mouth.

You and Matt walk slowly out of the park because Lacey’s on foot. You're halfway done with your ice cream when you stop abruptly, and the pieces finally connect in your mind.

You’d been moody - period moody but weren’t on your period. You threw up at one of your favorite scents and ordered pistachio ice cream for god sake.

Holy shit.

“Matt, I think I’m pregnant,” you blurt.

Matt stops dead in his tracks when your words process in his head. His mouth falls into a slight ‘o’ shape, and he grips Lacey's hand slightly tighter.

You look at him and wince at his initial reaction, starting to feel a lump form in your throat. “I-is that bad?” You ask.

Matt swallows harshly. “No-no, baby it's not bad, I just wasn’t expecting that.”

He picks up Lacey, who’s looking back and forth between the two of you in confusion, and buckles her in her stroller, gripping the handlebar with one hand to give his full attention to you.

He studied your face; your eyes were reddish as you looked up at him. You breathed, waiting for Matt to break the silence.

“Let’s stop by the pharmacy on the way home, yeah?” Matt grips your hand, giving you an encouraging squeeze. You nod, knowing your voice will betray you if you try to speak.

You hesitate at the pharmacy’s entrance once you get there. Matt takes quick notice of this. “You stay here with Lacey; I’ll go in - I’ll be thirty seconds.”

“Ok.” You smile lightly at him and take a turn with the stroller.

…

You subconsciously lock yourself in the bathroom when you get home. You didn’t mean to lock Matt out, but you didn’t have the courage to do this with him.

You’re internally freaking out and trying to ground yourself by telling yourself “It’s just peeing on a stick.” This does the opposite of calming your heart rate.

You view the test. Two lines - positive. You freeze in place for a moment before Matt creaks the door open, “Baby, you’ve been in here forty min…”

Silence stifles his words once he sees the positive test in your grasp. “You're pregnant,” he smiles.

Your mind is overwhelmed with new information, and your mouth runs dry, unable to speak. You hug Matt tightly, clinging to him, knowing that's what you need to calm yourself down. “I won't be a good mother,” you mutter into his chest.

Matt's look hardens. “Have you seen yourself with Lacey? You’re a natural. You put her to sleep, feed her, you have the most controlled temper I’ve ever seen, and she loves you, Y/N.”

You frown. “Are you forgetting I’m here?” Matt continues, “I was a single dad for a year; you're going to have support baby.” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “I'm going to take care of you.”

A small smile creeps onto your face with Matt's encouragement. Matt notices your change in face and smiles, “We're going to have a baby.”

The realization sinks in, and you laugh, repeating Matt’s words. “We're going to have a baby.”

Matt ushers you to the bed where you sit down. There’s a bottle of Gatorade on the bed stand and one of your chocolate bars. “Electrolytes,” Matt smiles, handing you the drink which you steadily down.

You sit for a moment in content silence before you speak up, “Where’s Lacey?”

”The sitter came and picked her up, thought we needed some alone time.”

You laugh, “Alone time is good.” Matt nods, leaning down to whisper in your ear, “It’s my fault… the shit I said at the hotel.”

You can tell he’s too nervous to admit what he said and smirk, “You mean when you said you wanted to breed me and then begged to come inside of me… yeah, I think this is your fault,” you tease.

Matt laughs wholeheartedly and presses a kiss to your lips, pecking you twice. Then he pecks your forehead, above your brow, and both of your cheeks before he’s back to your lips in a full-on make-out session.

“I love you.” He presses a hand to your stomach.

Matt nudges his nose against yours, tilting his head to get better access to your lips. His lips taste minty from his ice cream sample. You take his scent in, the mix of his shampoo and Lacey's baby powder.

His stubble grazes your face as he leans over you. You laugh lightly into his mouth as the stubble tickles your cheeks. He feels wonderful.

Your hands move from his neck to his cheeks, cupping them. Your stomach felt fuzzy - your head felt fuzzy - and he didn’t stop moving his lips against yours. His hands roam your back and send goosebumps up your spine. When you pull away gasping for oxygen Matt pecks your neck. An innocent action coming from him. His hands prod your waist, sliding from your back to your stomach. He gently squeezes your sides and grips your waist lightly.

“I love you.” He presses a kiss behind your ear. “I love you.” He repeats. Another kiss followed.

You smile, you love it when he’s sappy. You cup his cheeks and press a chaste kiss to his forehead. “I love you too Matt.”

“Since I got you pregnant do you think we should get married?”

You play along, raising an eyebrow. “Get me a ring and I’ll think about it.”

✯𝐅𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐨 𝐘𝐨𝐮✯

chris x earth boho!reader

IN WHICH…. Chris and Y/n experience their first time with each other.

WARNINGS: NSFW CONTENT AHEAD!!! Making out, oral (f receiving) fingering, sex, insecurities mentioned, cockwarming,

pt.1 pt.2

Y/n was pacing her room, nothing but anxiety fueling her movements.

Chris was coming over to spend the night and she planned on taking the relationship further. Their relationship was perfect, and although Chris was content waiting until she was comfortable doing anything sexual, she could tell he wanted to. The lingering touches to her waist, the make-out sessions that got a bit steamy before she pulled away, and the way he would look at her late at night when they were going to sleep.

It wasn’t that Y/n didn’t want to do anything with Chris, she definitely wanted to, it was just the paranoia from her last relationship holding her back.

Her ex wasn’t exactly the nicest, always talking about her body and comparing her to other girls. He would say she was too loud in bed, usually using a pillow to cover her face, he even called her disgusting for squirting.

As much as her mother tried to make her feel better and give her the whole woman empowerment talk, y/n just couldn’t bring herself to have sex with anyone ever again.

That was until she met Chris.

She had told Chris everything that her ex had done and said to her. He was very understanding as to why she was standoffish to the thought of doing anything sexual at all and promised her that he could wait until she was comfortable.

And tonight, she’s comfortable…Or she thinks she is.

Her mind is swarming with the thoughts of not being good enough for Chris or her body not looking right. She was so busy pacing her room she didn’t hear Chris walking into the house.

“Ma?” He calls out, making her freeze in place. She quickly closes her door and locks it, running around her room to find clothes. “Just a minute!”

She find a crème and green nightgown and quickly throws it on over the lingerie. She gives one last look in the mirror before swinging the door open. “You good?” He asks noticing her labored breathing.

“Y-yeah-'' she clears her throat before continuing. “Yeah, I just got out of the shower and wasn’t dressed.”

Technically that wasn’t a lie.

He nods before moving deeper into the room, setting his bag down by her closet. “Sorry for being early, we wrapped up filming earlier than we thought.” He takes his hat off and lays down on her bed, sighing out and closing his eyes as the satin sheets comfort him.

He opens his eyes and looks over and sees her looking at him. “What did you want to do? I know it’s late but we could watch a movie or something.”

“Yeah, that’s fine…Can you pick a movie while I go grab a water?”

He nods and asks for a Pepsi as she walks out the room. She arrives in the kitchen and grabs a glass, filling it with ice.

“You’re fine, everything will be ok. There’s no reason to worry, everything will go smoo-Ok what’s going on?” She jumps and turns around seeing Chris with his arms folded.

“I thought you were picking a movie?” He notices how she’s looking everywhere but him, causing him to walk closer.

He wrap his arms around her waist and pulls her in, “talk to me, what’s going on in that head of yours?”

“Not-Do not saying nothing. You’ve been acting weird and I know something is up. Did something happen?”

She bites her lip and plays with the cup in her hand. Chris stays silent, waiting for her to get her thoughts together before speaking.

“I-I had something planned tonight…But I’m a bit scared.” He nods along to her words.

“Ok, what did you have planned?”

It takes a moment for her to answer, her hands getting shaky. “Hey, calm down. Speak to me mama, you know you can speak to me.” He kisses all over her face, noticing that it’s warm.

“C-can we just lay down? Please?” Everything in him wants to say no, not until she tells him what’s wrong, but he knows he can’t push her. It’s better to let her come to him when she’s ready to talk.

“Ok, come on. I turned on your favorite.” She smiles softly and quickly finishes filling her cup with water, grabbing his Pepsi in the process.

They walk back to the bedroom and crawl into bed. As she gets comfortable, he notices her nightgown rising up, showing a sliver of the green butterfly print covering her lower half. He diverts his attention and crawls in next to her, pulling her close.

He starts to movie and settles into the bed, his head resting on top of hers.

The movie flies by, Y/n not even paying attention as the credits roll on the screen. She was stuck in her head, asking herself if she should make the move. “You want to go to bed now?” She jumps and turns to Chris who’s looking at her with those same bedroom eyes.

She doesn’t know if it’s intentional or not, but it’s enough for her to make up her mind.

“Yeah…I’m going to go to the bathroom first.” He nods and grabs his phone as she walks over to the en suite.

She stands in front of the bathroom mirror and stares at herself, slipping off the nightgown.

“You’re beautiful, any man would be lucky to have you.” She repeats her mother’s words to herself. She sprays a bit of her perfume and walks out the bathroom, thanking whatever gods there are that Chris turned off the lights.

She crawls back into the bed, facing away from Chris. Like clockwork, he turns to her and pulls her closer, only to stop when he feels her skin.

He sits up a bit, looking down at the silhouette of her body. She swallows harshly and turns on her back, looking up at him.

It was dark in the room, no light of any kind peeking through. It was a blessing for one, and a curse for the other.

“C-can I turn the lights on?” Chris questions, he was eager to see if his mind was playing tricks on him, wanting to know if his girlfriend was really in bed with nothing on.

“Lamp.” She mumbles softly, pulling the blankets over her chest. He leans back and pulls on the lamp cord, a soft hue of orange illuminating the room.

He notices she pulled the blankets up, her knuckles tight as she holds it against herself. He reaches forward and gently pulls it down.

His mouth runs dry when he sees the lingerie covering her chest. It wasn’t sultry by any means but it was definitely a turn-on.

“D-do you like it?” She’s nervous, he hasn’t said anything to her at all, just staring at her chest.

“I love it, you look beautiful, gorgeous…Is this what you had planned? You wanted to have sex tonight?” She nods softly.

“Are you sure? You know I have no problem waiting. Don’t do this for me, do it for you.”

“I-I’m sure…”

That’s all Chris needed to hear before his lips were pressed against hers. It wasn't a harsh kiss filled with lust, no, it was something more.

It was soft, tender, delicate....Loving.

He crawls over her and deepens the kiss, his hands trailing up and down her thighs. He pulls away from her lips and dips his head into her neck, peppering kisses along her jaw and lightly biting down on the soft brown skin of her neck.

Y/n can feel her heart beating out of her chest, her breathing labored as Chris works on her neck. With each mark he leaves she can feel herself getting wetter and wetter.

She bucks her hips making Chris smile to himself, “patience mama, this night is about you.” He trails his kisses from her neck down to her chest.

He goes to take the top off but she quickly grabs his hands, “I-I want to keep it on, I’m so-“ She's cut off by Chris’s lips finding their way back to hers.

“Don’t apologize, this is about you. Ok?” His eyes are boring into her. She nods and he goes back to peppering kisses all along her body, taking time to admire each body part.

“Beautiful, each part of you.” He mutters softly.

Just like the butterfly on her chest, she feels hundreds of them in her stomach, swarming around and making her feel warm,

Making her feel loved.

He keeps going, getting lower and lower until he gets to her pelvis. He toys with the hem of her bottoms, eyeing the green material with hungry eyes.

“Can I take these off?”

She hesitates.

She wasn’t used to people going down on her, her ex hated it. He would put up a fight, call it gross, and demand that she blew him instead.

But Chris was different, he worshiped her as if she was a goddess. He worshipped her like she was the reason for his breathing.

“C-can we turn the light off?” She asks meekly.

He stares at her for a few seconds until he moves. He grabs the green duvet before throwing it over his shoulders. “What are y- You want the light off because you’re uncomfortable with me seeing you. I’ll use the blanket so I won’t have to see you, or at least all of you that is.”

She thinks about it for a few seconds before nodding, agreeing to the compromise.

He adjusts himself on the bed, leveling himself with her pelvis. He loops his fingers through the waistband of her bottoms, slowly pulling them down.

He doesn’t dive right in as much as he wants to, he takes his time kissing the inside of her thighs, leaving his mark.

He pulls away from her thighs and hovers over her mound, his breath sending a shiver up her spine.

He plants a soft kiss on her folds before licking a long strip. She sucks in a sharp breath and clenches the sheets in between her fingers.

He closes his eyes and moans as he laps at her folds, shaking his head back and forth. He was eating her out as if he was starved, like he hadn’t eaten in months. Drinking her juices as if he was dehydrated, and she was the golden fountain.

He grips her thighs and pulls her closer, indulging in his newfound favorite meal. He could do this forever if she let him. She was sweet and bitter at the same time, almost like a strawberry freshly picked off a bush.

He wraps his lips around her clit, sucking and swirling his tongue around the button. She’s biting her lip, trying not to let any sound out.

He trails a singular hand down the back of her thigh before slipping two fingers inside her, curling them as he moves them in and out.

That was enough for her to snatch the blankets away, immediately holding eye contact with him. She whimpers and throws her head back in ecstasy, her legs beginning to shake.

He pulls away from her clit and rests his head on her thighs, watching as his fingers disappear inside of her.

He speeds it up, loving the way her chest rises and falls rapidly all because of his fingers. He can tell she is close, her squirming becoming more frequent and her whimpers getting closer together.

He uses his thumb to swipe over her clit, drawing endless figure eights. He leans over her body, capturing her lips with his own, “Come on baby, let go for me.” He encourages.

He curls his fingers one last time before her legs snap shut and she closes her eyes, her orgasm hitting her full throttle.

“That’s it,” he coos, kissing all over her face, his finger still working her through her orgasm. She opens her eyes, the orbs glossed over with a look of love that has Chris wanting to please her even more.

“Can you handle one more for me?” As much as he would love to keep going, he’s putting her needs before his. He could live without actually going all the way with her tonight, he would do it for a million years if it meant her being comfortable.

She nods, already going for the band of his sweatpants. He pushes her hands away and pulls her into another deep kiss, allowing his tongue to dip into her mouth. As the two make out feverishly, he manages to pull his sweats and boxers down.

He pulls her a bit closer sliding a pillow underneath her back before sliding his cock in between her folds, using her slick as a natural lubricant. She whimpers against his lips, finding herself loving the way his dick feels nudging against her clit.

He lines himself up, and slowly pushes in, his head falling to her shoulder as her walls clamp down on him. He groans and grips the back of her legs tightly, clenching his eyes shut.

Y/n is the same way, her jaw slack as no sound comes out from the euphoric feeling of the intrusion. She grips his back, her nails leaving crescent-shaped indents on his milky skin.

“S-slow, please?” She finally mutters. Chris swallows before slowly rocking his hips, moaning lowly at the friction.

He keeps a steady pace, not wanting to go too fast, and unintentionally hurt y/n or make her uncomfortable. “Fuck, you feel so good mamas.” He praises, slowly lifting his head so he could see her.

She looks beautiful.

Her eyes are clenched shut, the crow's feet that he loves so dearly prominent as day. Her nose is scrunched as pleasure rakes through her body.

However, the only thing Chris doesn’t like is her silence.

Like it was stated before, Chris knew everything her ex said to her about their sex life. He knew she was insecure about her moans and her body because of him. He knows she hates violence but he swears if he ever catches the guy he's going to hurt him.

“Let me hear you, let me hear those pretty sounds.” He begs. She opens her eyes and shakes her head, soft pants coming from her mouth.

“Come on baby, I gotta know I’m doing my job right of worshiping you.” He urges.

Y/n doesn’t budge, still too scared to make any noise despite wanting to.

Chris decided to take matters into his own hands. He sits up so he’s on his knees and bends her legs back as far as they can go, her calves draping over his arms.

Thank god for yoga.

He pulls out almost all the way, before snapping his hips at an angle that finally draws out the noises he’s been craving to hear.

Y/n arches her back and lets out the loudest pornographic moan her body can muster, her eyes going crossed in the process.

“There it is.” He grunts. He keeps his original pace, just going a bit harder to keep drawing out the angelic sounds flowing from her mouth.

This new angle allows him to go deeper, deeper than just her cervix. It’s as if he reached her stomach, her lungs, her soul.

The two hold eye contact as he continues to plow into her. He notices her mouth forming words but nothing comes out. “What is it baby?”

“Fa-ster.” She manages to moan out. Chris doesn’t have to be told twice, whatever she wants, she gets.

He speeds up his pace, Y/n's moans only getting louder, encouraging him even more. At this point her wooden bedframe is slamming against the wall, surely leaving scratches in the process.

Their moans intertwine, bouncing off the walls and creating pitch-perfect harmony. It was as if they were two instruments brought together to make a symphony.

It was harmonic.

“Oh fuck- I love you!” She moans out, her back arching as he hits that special spot inside of her.

“I love you too mama, so much.” He leans forward and brings her into a passionate kiss. She lets out a drawn-out mewl, her hands flying towards his arms.

His thumb finds its way back to her clit and she gasps, quickly trying to stop him. She was close to orgasming, that was fine. What wasn’t fine was the fact she knew she was going to squirt.

She could feel it forming, that white-hot coil ready for release, ready to burst.

“W-wait I- I know baby, let go for me. It’s ok.”

It’s as if he controls her, her body listening to his demands. She tries to close her legs but Chris stops her, watching as her juices splash in between them.

Chris groans at the sight, falling forward and nuzzling his head in her neck as he delivers three more pumps before letting go.

He stalls deep inside of her, decorating her walls with a nice shade of pearlescent white. He goes to pull out, but she stops him, holding him close.

“Stay...Please?” She mutters timidly. He stares at her for a few seconds, his brows furrowed in confusion before he understands what she wants. He nods and settles back down, holding her close.

He lightly runs his hand along her body, whispering sweet words into her ear.

“You were so good baby, perfect.”

“Gorgeous, like a goddess”

“Made just f’me.”

The two lay there, tangled in each other's arms, their souls intertwining and merging into one.

Fading into each other.

im sorry if yall tired of chris x earthyboho! reader but atm this is all i can write so this what yall getting 😭

TAGLIST 🍑

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you’re not sorry - m.s.

part one of avery’s playlist series

summary: could’ve loved you all my life if you hadn’t left me in the cold

warnings: angst, sensitive topics, no happy ending.

{read with caution}

wc: 3k+

Another night.

Another night waiting up for your boyfriend who could never be bothered to let you know when he’d be home; if he’d even be coming home that night.

It was like this for months at this point. Day after day of you waiting up just for him to stumble inside smelling like alcohol and weed, clothes disheveled as he plows through your front door. You didn’t even know what had changed, but it had.

Things were so good, beyond good, to the point where you guys were considering marriage, considering a family. Maybe it was all too much for him, but that wasn’t your burden to bear.

Your perfect, loving boyfriend had turned into someone you barely recognized, having to look so hard to find pieces of the man you fell for in the man you no longer knew.

You were about to give up and head to bed when you heard keys jingling at the front door, the man outside clearly struggling to unlock it. You stayed planted on the couch, waiting for him to finally come crashing in and make up some excuse about what he was doing out so late. You never believed him anymore.

When the door swung open and your boyfriend stumbled through it, his eyes met yours almost instantly, a small, forced smile appearing on his face. “Hey, baby,” he calls out, shutting the door behind him and kicking his shoes off before he made his way towards you, tripping over his own feet once or twice until he sat down next to you.

You let out an aggravated sigh, standing up and walking away from the couch, not wanting to sit next to him and smell the alcohol leeching off of his breath. It was beyond disgusting and if the smell didn’t make you sick, the thought of everything would. The thought of your life crumbling in a matter of months was enough to make you cry so hard you threw up on multiple occasions, the depression caused by this man that swore he loved you being the culprit of so many breakdowns you couldn’t even count anymore.

“You’re drunk, Matt,” you grumble, crossing your arms.

His eyes trail up to you, shaking his head quickly. “I’m not drunk, just tipsy, I swear. I stopped drinking a few hours ago.”

Your heart dropped. A few hours ago?

“And where have you been in those last few hours, hm?” You question, not really knowing if you wanted to know the answer.

Matt groans, throwing his head back on the couch. “Here we fucking go. All you do is nag on me fucking constantly, why do you think I’m gone all the time? I’ll tell you. Because you can’t fucking shut the fuck up and let me live for two minutes. You’re always up my ass asking me what I’m doing or who I’m with.”

Your heart starts to race in your chest, knowing you’re about to get in another fight with the man you used to never argue with. You used to have perfect communication, always able to work through your issues and things that bothered you, but now it was like a flip switched and he wanted to argue about everything, sober or not.

“I never see you anymore, Matt! You’re never home to just spend time with me! All I fucking want is to lay in bed and watch a movie with my boyfriend who cuddles with me and tells me he loves me! You act like I don’t exist and it hurts and I’m trying to stay but sometimes I wonder why I do.” Your voice is shaky as you speak, the adrenaline and emotions quickly getting to you. You never were good at fighting without crying.

“Why?” Matt questions quietly, dropping his gaze to his lap.

You’re confused. “Why what?” You ask him dryly, arms still crossed in an attempt to protect yourself, almost like you were protecting your heart.

He’s quiet for a moment before he speaks. “Why try to stay? If I’m so awful?”

Your breath catches in your throat. Was this it? Was this the fight you’ve been fearing for the last few weeks? Has everything you both have worked towards finally hit a wall?

“Because… because I keep hoping this is just a phase and you’ll snap out of it and love me again,” you choke out, tears filling your eyes. “I don’t understand what I did to make you not love me anymore and every day that I sit here by myself and think about it, I can’t come up with an answer and you won’t tell me. I would do fucking anything for you and you can’t even tell me you love me anymore.”

Matt let out a big sigh, picking at a rip in his jeans absentmindedly. “I do love you, I just… I need some time to myself.”

You scoff, crying now and not trying to stop it. “You don’t think I would’ve given you time? Space? Matt, all you had to say was that you were getting overwhelmed and needed time think about what you wanted, I would’ve understood that. Do you understand the fucking weight behind that? You have a woman who would let you take a step back from a relationship just because she knows how much you value your own space and time and your own autonomy. You will never fucking find a woman that will treat you the way I treat you. You will never find someone who loves you unconditionally through everything, including this. I swear to god, Matt, you better get your act together before you come home to fucking nothing.”

“Maybe that’s what I want!” Matt yells suddenly, getting up from the couch to walk over to you. You weren’t afraid, you knew he’d never hit you, but he’s also never yelled in your face like this either. “Maybe every fucking night I come home hoping you’ve packed up all of your shit and left. Hell, you could pack my shit and I’d be happy, I don’t fucking care, I just want to come home and know that you’ve finally given up on me. Don’t you get it? I’m trying to make it easy for you. I’m trying to be the worst boyfriend I could possibly be and you still won’t leave!”

The moment he’s done speaking you swear you could hear a pin drop. You felt like your world had completely stopped spinning on its axis.

You’re lightheaded as you stare at Matt, tears flowing freely down your face. He really was completely unrecognizable.

“What did I do?” You cried, still wanting nothing more than to feel your boyfriend’s arms wrap around you and tell you everything was going to be okay. But he wouldn’t, and it wasn’t. “Why do you hate me so much?”

Matt listened to your cries with a straight face, barely even seeming like he cared. “I just… don’t want to be with you anymore. Our relationship has run its course.”

You drop your head and let out a broken sob, reaching a hand up to try to wipe away your tears, but it was to no avail, they would just keep coming. “I love you with everything I have, I… I need you, Matt, how could you do this?”

Matt is silent, feeling like he’s already said all he needed to say. If he cared at all, he really didn’t show it.

You pick your head back up and look at Matt, your own eyes red and puffy, when you see it. You think it’s a shadow at first, but the more you stare, the more you realize your eyes aren’t deceiving you. You take a step forward and reach towards Matt, pulling the hood off his head and tugging the collar down, another choked cry falling from your lips.

“Is that a fucking hickey?” You accuse, looking up to meet his eyes. “You’re fucking cheating on me, too?!”

Matt grabs your wrist and pulls it away from him, throwing your arm back towards yourself before pulling his hood back up. “Back the fuck up, dude, you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You laugh in his face, shaking your head in disbelief. “You are so fucking pathetic, Matt,” you spit at him. “You are so much of a pussy that you couldn’t even be a man and break up with me, you needed me to do it for you. Do you feel good about yourself? Knowing you cheated on someone who would literally give you the world? God, I can’t believe I almost gave you a fucking kid, you’re a joke of a partner. I feel bad for anyone that has to deal with you for the rest of their life.”

Matt clenches his jaw tightly at your words, hating how you knew exactly how to strike a nerve with him. “You think I feel good about this? I fucking don’t but I didn’t know what else to do, you would’ve never listened if I tried to leave you, you would’ve talked me into staying and I would’ve been miserable for the rest of my life!”

“You are the one that said you wanted a family! The one that said you wanted to marry me and buy our own farm and live in the middle of fucking nowhere! You said all of those things, not me!” You wanted to hit him so bad. To shake him, to kick him, to do anything to make him see how none of this made sense to you. How could he say all of those things and turn on you so quickly?

You two were laid in bed under the blankets, neither of you ready to get out of bed for the day just yet. The sun shone through the blinds, illuminating Matt’s face perfectly, his blue eyes reflecting the light in a way that had you damn near in a trance, unable to pull your own eyes away from him. “I hope our babies have your eyes,” you tell him quietly, both of you laying on your sides to face each other.

He smiled shyly at you, closing his eyes for a moment. “Stop admiring me, it makes me awkward.” He mumbled, making you laugh.

“I’m your girlfriend, I’m supposed to admire you. Plus, it helps that you’re really hot and easy to admire.” You reach up and brush your hands through his hair that definitely needs a trim, pulling it back from his face to get a better view. “I’m serious, though. Your eyes are so pretty compared to mine.”

Matt opens his eyes and shoots you an annoyed look. “Stop it, our kids would be lucky to have any of your features, you’re fucking stunning.”

You giggle and roll over onto your back, staring at the ceiling for a few moments before speaking. “Do you ever think about that? Like what our kids will look like? I think about it all the time. Especially like… a little girl, running around with your bright blue eyes and your big smile. I just know if we had a little girl she’d be so beautiful, Matt.” You turn your head towards your boyfriend to see him already smiling at you.

“I think about it all the time,” he starts, reaching a hand out to rest on your stomach that had been exposed by your shirt riding up, softly trailing his thumb back and forth. “I think about how protective I’d be if we had a daughter, or daughters. I think about how much of an honor it would be to raise a son with you. I think about what would happen if you got pregnant with twins or, god forbid, triplets.” You laugh at this, knowing it would be an absolute shit show. “I think about our kids, sure, but a lot of times I think to myself, ‘wow, if I love her so much now, I can’t imagine how much I’ll love her when she’s the mother of my children.’ That’s what I think.”

Your eyes become glossy and your vision goes slightly blurry as you stare at Matt, seeing the sincerity in his eyes as he spoke to you. “I love you,” you tell him and his face lights up, leaning in to place a small kiss on your lips.

“I love you more.”

“I did,” Matt shrugs his shoulders like it was no big deal. “But feelings change. People change.”

You shake your head angrily, not believing him. “No, not like that. Feelings don’t change like that, Matt. You met somebody else, didn’t you? All this time you’ve been seeing someone else.”

Matt groans, rubbing his eyes harshly. “So what?! It doesn’t matter, we’re over now, right? I’ll sleep on the couch and pack my shit tomorrow, can we just go to bed?”

You sniffle, the truth finally setting in that he’s completely given up and there was no getting him back. The Matt you once loved was gone forever and there was nothing you could do about it.

So you decided to land the final blow and make him realize how stupid he really was.

You grab his right hand with your left, facing it palm up as you reach your free hand into your pocket, grabbing the strip of paper you had kept in there, waiting for the perfect moment to drop this bomb on him. You slap the paper into his open hand before taking a step away, crossing your arms again.

“What is this?” Matt asks, staring down at the photos in front of him, panic setting in his chest. “Babe… babe, what is this?” He looks up at you, eyes wide. You swear you could almost hear his heart pounding.

“It’s an ultrasound, jackass.” You snap at him, completely over his shit.

Matt’s mouth opens, then closes, then opens again, eyes snapping between you and the photos. “You’re… pregnant?” He chokes out. Despite all the alcohol he’s consumed tonight, he feels the most sober he has in weeks, the reality of the situation crashing into him like a truck.

You laugh at his reaction, hating how he suddenly cared about you again. “Was,” you tell him bluntly, shrugging your shoulders like nothing you said mattered. “Turns out never getting any sleep and stressing out over your loser, lowlife boyfriend isn’t good for a baby.”

Matt lets out a huff of air like his lungs had collapsed in on him, wishing the ground would open up and swallow him whole. “You… you were pregnant, and now you’re not?” He asks quietly, his own voice now shaking.

“Yes, Matthew, I was and now I’m not. That’s how that fucking works.” You walk over and snatch the pictures from him, ignoring his pleas of denial. “While you were out doing whatever the fuck or whoever the fuck you wanted, I was here throwing up every day by my fucking self, barely even able to eat oatmeal without getting sick. I was here reading up on how to get through pregnancy or how to be a good mother. I was here shopping for fucking baby clothes and decorations. And I was the one here miscarrying in our bed, by myself!” You have no idea when you started crying again, but you were, and there was no stopping it this time. “I was the one going to doctors appointments and listening to our baby’s teeny tiny heart beating. I was here looking at pictures of her tiny feet and tiny toes, wondering if she’d look like you or like me. I was here picking up the pieces when I found out her teeny tiny heart had stopped.”

Matt’s eyes had filled with tears now, too, his bright blue eyes only made brighter by the reflection of the lamp lit in the corner of the room. “Her?” He croaked, voice failing him. “It was a girl?”

You let out a sob, nodding your head weakly. “I found out the day I found out she was gone,” you cry, voice entering a higher pitch from your throat tightening. “I wanted her so bad, Matt, and I was just waiting for you to come around so I could tell you, and… you just never did and now we’re over. I went from a girl who wanted nothing more than a family with the man she loves to being a girl who’s oddly grateful she lost a baby so she doesn’t have to deal with looking at her daughter that reminds her of the man that broke her heart.”

Matt reaches up to wipe the tears from his cheeks, releasing a shaky breath out. “I’m sorry,” he whimpers, looking you dead in the eyes. “I’m sorry, if I had known-.”

“If you had known then what? You wouldn’t have treated me like shit? You wouldn’t have cheated? That should’ve been the bare fucking minimum, Matt, and now you’ve let down who was supposed to be the two most important girls in your life.” You point your finger at him as you speak, wanting to drive your point home and let him know how badly he had fucked up. “I would’ve done fucking anything for you, including growing your baby, and you threw that away, not me.”

“I was just scared, it was all happening so fast!” Matt wails, reaching out for you. “I got overwhelmed with the thought of settling down and I freaked out, I’m sorry.”

You push his hands away, ignoring his pleas. “You said it yourself, Matt. It’s over. Besides, I can’t bring her back. I’m always going to look at you and remember how you treated me when I had your baby inside me, and how you treated me when I dealt with the loss of our baby.”

Matt sobbed, placing his head in his hands as his shoulder shook. “I didn’t know!”

“You shouldn’t have to know!” You cried, hands flailing in front of you as you spoke, or more yelled. “You shouldn’t have to know I’m pregnant just to treat me like your fucking girlfriend! I would’ve done anything for you, including give up my body for nine months to give you a family, and you couldn’t even be loyal, and you have to live with that for the rest of your fucking life.”

Matt sunk to his knees in front of you, head resting on your stomach as he wraps his arms around your hips. You just stare down at him, your tears dripping into his hair. “I’m so sorry, please let me fix this,” he sobs into your sweater, hands gripping the back of it. “I fucked up so bad, I see that now.”

The sight of him made you want to crumble. You wanted to give in, to comfort him, to forget these last few months and go back to being the perfect happy couple you used to be. You didn’t know how you were supposed to live without him after all this time.

But you deserved better.

“Get up,” you tell him quietly and he turns his head up to look at you, cheeks soaked with his own tears. You reach down and cup his cheek, thumb swiping under his eyes to wipe new tears that fell. “Get up, Matt.”

He sniffles and obliges, standing in front of you once again, closer this time.

“You’re not sorry you hurt me,” you start, voice surprisingly calm. “You’re just sorry it backfired so badly.”

Matt grabs your hand that still rested on his face, holding it close and leaning into it. “Please,” he says, voice raspy. “Can we spend one more night together?”

You break eye contact to drop your eyes to the floor, shoulders shaking with the sob that ripped through your body.

“Yes,” you croak out, immediately melting into the arms that wrapped themselves around you like you’d disappear if he let go, your face tucking into his neck that smelled like cheap, floral perfume, the scent feeling like a dagger to your heart.

You ignored it, though. Anything for one more night with the love of your life.

-

taglist

I wish for Palestinians to have ordinary days without artillery and i want them to eat their cuisine in peace on a mundane morning. I want their children to go to school and i want them to go to work in peace in their own damn fucking country and their own damn fucking land. It's all theirs. It will never be Isntreal.

🙏🏼

Hey, I love your stories and your style of writing 💕 I was wondering if you could write one on Scott Reed, along the storyline of the series, where the reader was Jeff's girlfriend until his death, and Scott is there by her side and starts to get along with her, but he's hesitant to make a move because he was pretty close to Jeff as well?

MOVING FORWARD? 

A/N: Trigger warning: character death. I hope you like this. I tried to focus more on the process of moving forward with little snippets. I’m sorry this took a while, I had to make the parts flow together and it was challenging. I wrote and rewrote it a few times. Sorry if spacing is off, I tried to fix it as best I could. You’ll want tissues and maybe a snack. It’s a long one. 

SEPTEMBER

“Babe, you don’t have to go. I can go get more beer. You stay here with your friends.” I asked Jeff, who was getting his coat to go on a beer run. Jessica’s party was in full swing and everyone was here. Even Clay Jensen came, to most people’s surprise.

“(Y/N), I’m good. I’ve been drinking Coke all night. I’ll see you in a few. I love you.”

I sighed as I looked up at his beaming face, “okay, fine. I’ll see you in twenty. Drive safe, I love you too.” I kissed him softly and watched as he jogged out to the car to run to Blue Spot. I decided to go off in search of my friends and found them in the kitchen, arguing with Scott and Monty about who should get the last beer.

“Ah, finally. Someone who can break the stalemate. (Y/N), who do you think should get it?” Scott asked me.

“Easy. Me.” I smiled, taking the bottle from the table and opening it.

“But- you… you don’t even like beer.” Layla stuttered.

“I know, but it saves me from watching the four of you argue until Jeff gets back. I’m sure you can last,” I checked my watch, “fourteen minutes without a beer.” The boys groaned and Layla turned to Katie, sighing dramatically. I shook my head as I walked away.

I was alone for a while, just wandering the house. I had seen Clay run out of the party a while ago, followed by Sherri and Hannah a while after that. I played with my necklace, a gift from Jeff for our first anniversary, just people watching, the bottle of Coors still full in my hand. My phone buzzing in my pocket pulled me from my thoughts. “hello?” I asked, not bothering to look at who was calling. I assumed it was Jeff calling to confirm how much beer he needed to get.

“(Y/N)? (Y/N/N)- you- oh fuck.”

“Who is this?”

“I-it’s Clay. (Y/N) you… oh god. I called 911 already. There’s been an accident.” No. No no no. Please don’t say what I think you’re about to say. “J-Jeff.” His voice cracked. I heard sirens in the distance. I felt as though I was frozen. “Th-the police are here; they want to talk to me. They’re calling his parents. Oh god (Y/N/N). I have to go.”

“Clay. Clay wait. What happe-.” I tried to ask. He hung up before I could get any words out. It was almost like I had an out of body experience. I lowered my phone and felt the full bottle fall from my grip, shattering on the floor. No one was around to notice, or at least, I couldn’t see if there was. I had tunnel vision. Jeff… he can’t… no.

I blinked quickly a few times to try and make my vision normal, as well as keeping the welling tears from falling. Need to find sports boy. I couldn’t think of the proper words. Walking back towards the kitchen, I scanned the room for someone in a varsity jacket or a face I could identify as an athlete, hell, I scanned for Monty’s plaid shirt. Something like this should trump the stupid fight we had earlier today. I spotted him over by the fridge, talking to some girl. “Monty.” I said quietly as I approached him. He didn’t hear me. “Monty.” I tried again, a little louder. He still didn’t hear me, or he heard me and chose to ignore it. “Montgomery.” I said louder, my voice cracking and placing a hand on his bicep. He froze for a second.

“One second.” He told the girl he was putting the moves on. I watched him turn to face me. As soon as he saw my face, his mouth closed, and his brow furrowed. “(Y/N), are you okay?” Monty asked me, his eyes softening and his demeanor changing almost immediately. I couldn’t get any words out now that I had found someone to tell. I just shook my head and waved my arms awkwardly. “(Y/N/N), did something happen? What happened?”

I opened my mouth and my voice cracked. It felt like my throat was trying to open around a peach pit. “J-Jeff….” Was all I could say. My face crumpled and my eyes squeezed shut, trying my damnedest to keep from crying or screaming. “He… there was an accident.” Monty’s entire face dropped.

“What kind of accident?”

“I don’t know. I don’t think it’s good Monty. We have to… I have to….” I trailed off, trying to find the words to explain that we needed to leave.

“(Y/N) you need to breathe. Let’s go find the guys. Come on.” He said, his face hardening as he pulled me along beside him. I turned to look at the girl he walked away from. She looked royally miffed.

“Scott. Where’s Bryce?” Monty asked his friend. I stood behind him, clutching his shirt tightly to keep myself upright. Had it been any other time, I think he would have minded.

“I don’t know, I think he went upstairs. Why?”

“We need to go.”

Scott looked between Monty and I. “Uh… do you need permission to leave now or something?”

“No Scott. We need to go.” Scott looked at me again and he seemed to register the look on my face as not simply having too much to drink. Monty leaned forward to whisper something to Scott. His eyes widened and he sucked in a deep breath.

“Okay. Uh… I’m good to drive, so you go upstairs and look for Bryce and Justin and whoever else. I’ll take (Y/N) to the car.” I clutched Monty’s shirt tighter.

“(Y/N), you need to let go. I’ll be right back. Go with Scott.” He told me, prying my fingers off his person. I heard myself hum and felt Scott guide me out to the car.

He opened the door and guided me to sit down in the passenger seat. “Do you want some water?” he asked, squatting down to my level. I nodded and he went around to the driver’s side. I turned to watch him root around in his gym bag for a water bottle. He walked back around to me and handed me the fresh bottle. I opened it and took a small sip. He watched me, steadying it when I shook too much. My phone rang again, and I looked down to see who it was. Jeff’s mom was calling. “Hello?” I asked, timidly.

“(Y/N)? Darling, you need to come to the hospital. There was an accident.” She told me, her voice shaking. I could tell she was trying to get the words out without crying.

“I know. Clay called me. We will be there soon.” I looked up as I saw the group of athletes walking out, confused and somber looks on their faces. Scott waved them over. “Okay. We are on our way to the regional hospital. Let one of us know when you get there and we will come down to get you.”

I nodded before realizing that she couldn’t see me. “Mhmm. I will.” I squeaked before hanging up. I felt several dozen eyes on me as I stared at my lap. “They’re going to the regional hospital.” Was all I said as I turned myself forward and shut the door. It was quiet for a few moments before Scott came around and started the car.

Neither of us spoke until we were about halfway to the hospital. I felt my stomach churn the closer we got. “You need to pull over.” I told Scott stiffly.

“You okay (Y/N)?” he asked, his eyes darting to me and back to the road.

“Pull over now.” I ground out, trying to keep from heaving.

“Okay, just a second.” He signalled to pull over and stopped the car. In a matter of seconds, I had the door open and was hunched over on the side of the road, throwing up in the ditch. Diego and Monty pulled over as well when they saw me, and I heard Diego call from the Jeep.

“Is she okay? Or like… she’s okay?”

I groaned. “I’ve got her, you guys go on ahead.” Scott called back. I wiped my mouth and stood up straight, sending Monty a thumbs up. He nodded and merged back into traffic. I walked back to the car, taking a gulp of water, swishing and spitting it on the road.

“We can go.” I said and it was quiet again.

Arriving at the hospital and calling Jeff’s mom was a blur. It was also a blur waiting for the doctor and watching his parents argue that I should be there to hear what was happening. I stared at the wall blankly while I waited for news. Some of the guys whispered around me, others prayed, others like me, stared blankly. Finally, the doctor agreed to let me listen and I walked over at the wave of a nurse. The nurse took me into the small room I remembered being in when I was young, and my grandma had passed.

“Mr. and Mrs. Atkins, Miss (Y/L/N). I am very sorry to have to tell you this, but Jeff passed away at the scene of the accident. I am sorry for your loss.” I closed my eyes as his mom dropped to the floor and screamed. His dad dropped and pulled his distraught wife into his arms. I took a breath and turned to run from the room. I ran down the hall, ignoring the group in the waiting room. “(Y/N), wait.” I heard someone call behind me. I ignored them. I also ignored the footsteps following me. I have to get out of here was running over and over in my head. I stopped running when I got outside and bent over, placing my hands on my knees. I gulped the air, trying to slow my heartrate and put off the impending breakdown.

“(Y/N)?” a voice spoke from behind me. I shook my head. I knew who was talking to me, but I couldn’t make myself speak. “Come here.” Bryce said gently, as though I was a fawn he was trying to approach without spooking. I still couldn’t say anything. His hand gently touched my back and rubbed in circles. I began to stand up and his arms immediately went around my middle to support my weight in the event that I couldn’t stand up. He held me for a few minutes, while I shook and tried not to cry. I noticed Justin standing at the doors with a broken yet menacing look on his face.

“He’s gone.” I whispered quietly into the blond’s shoulder.

“I know. Let’s go back inside, yeah? Get you some water and have someone take you home?” I hummed as he tucked me under his shoulder, supporting my weight.

The group of heartbroken boys were still in the waiting room with Jeff’s parents. I couldn’t bring myself to make eye contact with them. Monty walked up to Bryce and took me from him.

“I’ll take her home.”

“Stay with her.” Diego told him, placing a hand on my shoulder and squeezing. Monty nodded and took his flannel off, wrapping me up in it. I took one last look at his parents before turning and walking away, not daring to think of how I was going to have to begin the grieving process for my boyfriend.

I walked up to the school doors on Monday morning and stood there, just looking at it. I was early so there weren’t many people outside, but those who were, stared at me and whispered to each other. Jeff’s baseball shirt hung off my thin frame and my black yoga pants hugged my curves, hidden by the shirt. It seemed to be bigger than it was a few days ago. “Are you going to go inside, or do you want to cut today?” Monty asked from behind me.

I jumped slightly. “I’ll be there in a minute. I have to be here today.”

“Okay. I’ll wait with you.” He stood beside me quietly until I was ready to walk in. I took a step forward and then another, and another. He fell into step beside me. People stared as I walked in. I guess I should get used to it.Principal Bolan and Mr. Porter were waiting for me at the main office.

“(Y/N), if there is anything the school can do, just let me know and I will handle it.” The principal said. Yeah, sure you will.

“Thank you.” I replied, quietly. He nodded and walked back into his office. The appeasing statement has been made. Let’s not appear to care too much.

“(Y/N), you don’t need to be here today. You’ve suffered a great loss. Your teachers would understand why you weren’t here.” Mr. Porter offered.

I stared at him. Is he serious? “I know you’re trying to help and that’s great. But I do need to be here today.” I explained.

“Why?”

“I heard he was drinking, and she let him get in the car anyway.” A girl I had never met muttered to her friend as she passed me. Monty must have seen my features darken and he placed a hand on my shoulder, squeezing. I gestured to Mr. Porter.

“That is why. I need to get ahead of this. Jeff is-,” I caught myself, “was a wonderful and well-loved young man, but the kids at this school don’t care about that. If I wasn’t here, the rumors would be even worse.”

Mr. Porter nodded; he had been here long enough to know how people were. “Alright, but if you want to talk or decide you need to go home, come let me know.” I nodded at him and together, Monty and I walked to my locker.

“Did he really say, ‘you don’t need to be here today’? Like he actually fucking said that?” I asked.

“Yup. I heard it too.” Monty said, shaking his head. Clay stopped us in the hall, and I tried to smile at him. It came out as more of a grimace.

“Hey Clay. How’re you doing?”

“I don’t know. How are you doing?”

“I changed my shirt this morning. So that’s something I guess.” I shrugged.

“I’m really sorry (Y/N).”

“I know. Me too. Jeff really liked you, you know.”

“Yeah.” Neither of us knew what else to say. “I uh… I’ll see you around?”

“You will. Let me know if,” I paused, “if you want to talk sometime.”

“Okay.” He nodded before making his way to wherever it is that Clay Jensen spends his time. I tried to ignore the whispers as I sighed.

“This day isn’t going to get any easier.” I muttered. Monty shrugged as we walked. No one else really said anything to me as we walked, all of them grieving in their own ways.

“She isn’t left alone today, okay?” I heard Bryce tell the rest of the athletes, who had crowded around my locker. I had to stop myself from speaking up and telling him that I’m not a child and I can take care of myself. Instead, I readjusted my bag on my shoulder.

“Hey Bryce. Guys.” I greeted somberly.

“Hey (Y/N).” Bryce greeted, equally as somberly. He pulled me into a slightly awkward but understandable hug. Bryce hugs people when they aren’t in shock? This is probably one of the strangest interactions I’ve had with Bryce Walker since… ever. I wasn’t sure what to do so I just patted his back gently. He pulled away and the group made room for me to get to my locker.

“You can all stop staring at me any time. It’s kind of creepy.” I said as I gathered my things. “I know this is a hard day for all of us, but that doesn’t mean you need to stare like everyone else.” When I turned back, they were still looking at me. “Seriously, stop. I’m not going to do anything stupid. I will however, go to my stupid physics class and learn about the laws of motion.” I put my textbooks in my bag and began walking away from my friends. When I didn’t hear any of them following, I turned around. “You coming Diego? Hutcher will get all bent out of shape if we are late, even under these circumstances.”

“I guess so, yeah.” He mumbled, confused before quickly catching up with me.

Between the sad looks from teachers, the boys and their girlfriends following me everywhere, and the whispers from students, my patience with today was beginning to wear thin. It was around lunch time when I heard two girls talking to each other. They must not have noticed I was walking past.

“She really seems to be milking this grieving girlfriend thing.”

“Lizzie, it’s been three days, give her a break. I wonder what it was like. Must have been-.” I had finally had enough.

“What what was like? What part would you like to know about? The part where I begged him not to leave? Or when I got a phone call from a kid freaking out? Would you like to know about what it was like gathering all the guy at that party and going to the hospital? Because it turns out a brother dying sobers you up pretty quick.” I paused and looked at their expressions. “No. No you don’t want to know about that. You want to know what it was like listening to his mom scream and cry and beg God to bring her son back. You want to hear about how I haven’t eaten in three days because I’ve been crying so much I can’t keep food down. And how everyone is staring at me and whispering because apparently Jeff Atkins’ death is inconvenient for them.” Before I could continue, I felt arms going around my waist and I was being pulled back.

“Easy there Ticat.” Scott Reed spoke into my ear. I struggled for a moment and he wrapped his arms around my waist tighter. Finally, I relaxed, and he let go. I watched him turn to the girls.

“She lost her boyfriend three fucking days ago. We lost a brother. Have some goddamn respect.” He scoffed and shook his head as he grabbed the bag I dropped and led me towards the door. The girls looked as though he slapped them as we walked away. He passed me his phone as we walked. “Call Monty.” I did as he said and put it on speaker.

“Hello?” Monty answered.

“Hey. I’m taking (Y/N) home.”

“Why? Is she okay?” He asked.

“She is. At least as okay as we can expect. It’s everyone else that’s the problem.” He grumbled.

“What happened?”

“I’ll explain later. Tell Porter she had to go home for me?”

“I will. Keep me posted?”

“Will do. Bye.” He took the phone from my hand and hung up. We had arrived at his car and he seemed to have calmed down a bit. “So, home?” I blinked at him, not totally understanding the question. “Where do you live?” He clarified, slowly.

“Oh uh… just off Lincoln and sixth.” I replied. He nodded and got in the car. I followed suit and stared out the windshield. “That was… something.”

“Yeah well it’s been a long day.”

“I think they’ll be long for a while.”

“Me too.” He replied, sadly. “You don’t want to go home do you?” he asked, suddenly. I was quiet for a while before answering.

“Not really no. My parents are at work and they’ve just been hovering since Monty brought me home. But it’s so quiet.”

“I can stay if you want. I’m not the greatest cook in the world but I can manage soup broth.”

“You don’t want to go home?”

“No. Bryce may be a dick a lot of the time, but he’s right. You shouldn’t be left alone today. And I can guarantee that I am far better company than some of the other guys. We don’t have to talk or anything. If you’re not comfortable with that, I can call Monty back or one of your other, uh… friends?”

“You mean Layla and Katie? They aren’t really my friends. Have you seen or heard from them today at all? Because I haven’t.”

“I haven’t. Why do you hang out with them then?”

“Why do you spend time with Bryce Walker, Scott?”

“Fair point.” He replied, dropping the subject.

We got closer to my house and I spoke again. “It’s the slightly darker grey one up ahead here.”

“As opposed to the slightly lighter grey houses?” Scott joked. It was a really bad joke, but I felt myself start to smile slightly for the first time in days.

“Well, yeah.” I stated, biting the inside of my lip slightly to keep a straight face. He must have caught himself smiling slightly too because he quickly relaxed his face back to the somewhat somber expression, we all wore today.

“Heard that one before?”

“Yeah. Jeff joked about it a lot.” I smiled sadly at the memory. We were silent again as he pulled into my driveway and we walked to the door. Our stuff was arranged neatly by the door and we made our way through the house to the kitchen. Evidently, he wasn’t kidding about the soup thing.

“Okay, where do you keep your pots?” He asked, clapping his hands together.

“Bottom cupboard by the stove.” I pointed. I’m really not hungry and this really isn’t a good idea. He nodded and set to work searching the kitchen for ingredients.

I decided to leave him be as he fell into what was clearly his zone. When I was upstairs, I decided it might be time to have a shower and clean some of the sadness off of me. It doesn’t work like that (Y/N). I shook my head. You think I don’t know that? I just need to do something that feels normal. Once I was showered and changed into a clean sweatshirt and bike shorts, I made my way downstairs. At the sound of my footsteps, Scott looked up. “I made you a sandwich. You don’t have to eat it if you don’t want, but it’s there.” I nodded and sat at the island in front of the bowl of hot soup broth. I took a timid sip from my spoon and sighed. This is really good.

“Thank you.” I muttered quietly. He nodded at me as he took a bite of his own sandwich. We ate in silence across from each other. Scott wasn’t lying when he said we didn’t have to talk if I didn’t want to. Once our lunch was done, he pulled out a notebook and did some homework at the table while I turned on the tv at a low volume, pretending to be interested in some soap opera that had been on longer than I’d been alive. Just like this morning, I pretended not to notice his not so discreet looks to check on me. He didn’t leave until just before my mom got home from work. We bid each other a slightly awkward goodbye and I breathed a sigh of relief that I could finally be alone for a few minutes.

The next couple of days at school weren’t much better. Bryce was still being… nice, which I found slightly odd. It wasn’t nice in a creepy way or anything like that. He seemed to genuinely be nice. He walked me to my first class since his was next door, keeping a respectable distance between us at all times. If he saw me in the halls, he would wave at me or nod in acknowledgement. At first, I thought he was being weird, but when I talked to Monty about it, he just shrugged. “This might be how he’s choosing to grieve. Focus on being nice to you and making sure you know someone is there.”

“I get that, but its Bryce. Usually when he’s nice to a girl….”

“I know. He’s annoying and says stupid shit. But he’s my best friend. I know him. He’s actually trying to be nice to you. Jeff was his friend.”

I sighed. “Okay. I’m not going to start hanging out with him or anything though. If he’s your best friend, what does that make me?”

“My person or whatever.” He muttered, going back to his geometry problem.

“I knew you paid attention when we watched that.” I muttered as I went back to my biology notes.

The stares weren’t much different, but it seemed like it had started really setting in for people by now. Jeff Atkins, one of their classmates, their idols, their friend, was gone. The snarky whispers stopped, but I wasn’t sure if that was because of my outburst on Monday morning or not. I noticed Hannah Baker watching me at my locker during breaks, but I didn’t pay much mind to it. She’s the girl Clay is in love with and Jeff wanted them to get together sure, but that girl had more going on than met the eye. Jessica and Justin seemed more lovey than usual which sucked to watch but whatever works for them I suppose. Justin and Bryce’s relationship seemed kind of off, but I attributed it to some stupid high school bullshit or having different ways of dealing with death. Diego and I hadn’t ever been super close or friendly at all, but he was friends with Jeff and Monty, so I had been around him. When we stopped to talk in the halls or anything, he talked to me just like he always had. We kept it to small talk and school related topics. I was grateful he wasn’t walking on eggshells and trying not to say the wrong thing.

Scott Reed was the one person I couldn’t wrap my head around though. We were kind of sort of friends. More than acquaintances, but not friends, friends. More, you’re friends with my boyfriend and best friend so that’s something, friends. We had also worked on group projects together in the past. He seemed to be stuck between trying to help me and being scared to talk to me. I would catch him looking at me from his locker but he would look away quickly in the mornings, but then at lunch or when the halls were quiet, he would try to make me smile or laugh. It was very confusing, especially with my head being so clouded by grief. I knew he wasn’t trying to make any moves or anything. It’s probably just the way he’s processing things. Maybe he’s trying to avoid the issue and this is how he wants to do it. We didn’t mention our afternoon at my house on Monday, nor did he insert himself into any grief related outbursts that may or may not have occurred in the last few days. You need to stop thinking so much. This is too much to deal with right now.

** **

I hadn’t retained anything we had talked about in school this week. I was too busy dreading this day. I stared at the classic black dress hanging on the door of my closet. It stared back, mockingly. I was in my room, hair freshly curled and pulled out of my face, neutral makeup on, doing all I could to not think about what my plans for the day were going to be just over a week ago. It was shocking how fast plans could change. Instead of a relaxing walk and maybe a game of catch with my boyfriend before dinner, I was getting dressed for his funeral. I rolled my eyes up to try to keep the tears at bay for just a little longer. A knock at my door redirected my attention. “Hey.” Monty said from the door. He leaned against the door frame, likely wrinkling his black suit.

“Hey.” I replied. I sighed and shook my head.

“Are we getting dressed or are we going to stand here hoping it dresses you on its own?” he asked, stepping into my room.

“I don’t know.”

“Your folks are downstairs waiting for you.”

“That’s good.”

“Do you want a drink?” I turned around to face him as he pulled a silver flask out of his inside jacket pocket.

“No. Need to be sober for this.”

He nodded and took a swig of whatever it contained. Today wasn’t the day to argue with him about drinking before eleven. “Do you need help with the dress or are you good?”

“I think I’ll need you to zip it up.” I muttered, motioning for him to sit on my bed as I took the dress off its hanger, going into my closet to change. I didn’t look in the mirror as I passed it on the way to my bed. He zipped it up deftly. I again, decided not to make a comment about how he wasn’t usually zipping dresses up.With that taken care of, I slipped on my black pumps and turned around to look in the mirror. “Do I look okay Monty?” I asked, pulling on my sleeves slightly, trying to cover up a little more. He placed his hand on mine to stop me.

“You look beautiful (Y/N). Stop fiddling with it and let’s go downstairs.”

“I don’t want to.” I replied, my voice cracking. Don’t cry. Do not cry.

“I know. But we need to.” He sighed. “Everyone will be there. If it makes you feel better, I can even talk to the Jensen kid.”

“Clay. And I don’t know if it would honestly.” Before we went downstairs, I asked him, “can I take you up on your offer of flask juice?”

“Not right now. You said you have to stay sober for this.”

I sighed for what felt like the millionth time today and walked downstairs, clutching the railing as I went so that I didn’t topple over.

Jeff’s parents asked if I wanted to come early so I could have some alone time to say goodbye to Jeff. When we arrived at the church, his parents, the Priest, and the funeral director met us out front. Jeff’s dad pulled me into a tight hug and whispered apologies in my ear. I rubbed his back softly and apologised back. His mom was quick to pull me in as well. “I’ll always consider you akin to a daughter, (Y/N).” She whispered. I had to fight back tears when she squeezed tighter before letting me go.

“I’m very sorry for your loss.” Father Carmichael said as he took my hand gently. They were warmer than I expected for a man his age.

“Thank you.” I mumbled. The sentiment was shared by the funeral director and I was ushered off to the waiting hearse. The back door was opened, and I stared at the shiny walnut casket filling the space. It almost didn’t believe what I was seeing. It didn’t seem real. I placed a hand on the varnished wood, noting how smooth it felt.

“This can’t be happening.” I muttered softly. I paused to wait for a response I knew would never come. “We promised each other we would have forever.” There was more I wanted to say but the tears were becoming impossible to stop. I hoped that he knew everything I wanted to say already. I wiped my tears quickly before turning around and waiting for the pallbearers to arrive. We were ushered into the church before other people arrived.

“(Y/N), would you like to sit with the family? You practically are to us.” Jeff’s mom asked as my parents went to get some water.

“Umm,” I paused and turned to Monty. He shrugged and nodded. “I guess that would be okay.” I replied, not completely sure of my answer.

“Alright sweetie.” She hugged me again and turned as the pallbearers began arriving. I watched on as the funeral director explained procedure to them. His parents and I were led out of the church once again to follow the casket into the chapel.

The church was packed full. I could hear the quiet loud of a large group chattering with one another at the door. I quickly shut the door on the original idea of a large gathering in this little church. Oh, how that day would have been so different than today. My dad wouldn’t already be seated inside, I wouldn’t be wearing black, Jeff would be standing at the alter instead of…. Suddenly we were watching the group of young men carry the heavy casket up the church steps. His cousins were trying to keep their tears in but couldn’t help the few that slid out. His uncle had tears streaming down his face. I took a deep breath and began following his mom and dad into the church. When I got to the doors leading to the chapel, I froze. I couldn’t make my feet move. Once again, I was bombarded with what should have been. I could feel people’s eyes on me but try as I might, I simply could not move. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw movement coming around the last pew. Scott was standing at my side in a moment.

“One foot in front of the other.” He muttered as he held his arm out slightly. I grasped it, probably too tightly, but he didn’t even flinch. Together, he walked me towards the alter. I didn’t bother to think about what people would say about it. People here weren’t that callous. I took my seat and took a deep breath as he quickly made his way back to his seat.

Father Carmichael performed a wonderful service for Jeff. I felt tears streaming down my face the whole time. When it was over, I excused myself to the washroom to fix my makeup and have a moment to myself. As expected, Monty was waiting for me when I was done. Not as expected, was the addition of Scott waiting with him. I cleared my throat and pointed to my face. “You’re good.” Monty said, after a quick once over.

“Okay.” I nodded. I turned my attention to Scott. “um… thank you. For what you did in there.” I told him, awkwardly.

“It was no problem. That couldn’t have been easy.” He said. I shook my head. It wasn’t.

“Are we going to Jeff’s after this?” Monty asked me. I paused. I should. I really should go. I just don’t know if I can.

“I don’t… know?” I hesitated.

“You could show up for a few minutes, make a quick round, and say you need to be alone.” Scott suggested. I looked up at him. Could I really do that?

“That’s not actually a bad idea.” Monty replied, rubbing his jaw in thought. “We could go to the docks afterwards.”

“Flask empty yet?” I asked.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N). We are in a church.” He gasped, scandalously.

“I don’t mean for now. And that’s rich coming from you. When was the last time you cracked open your Bible Montgomery?” He was silent and avoided eye contact. “Exactly.”

“It’s not. But it’s not like we can’t refill it if we need to.”

“Okay. Let’s go.” I nodded. I put on another brave face as we walked out of the church on the way to the grave site to lay Jeff to rest.

We made a quick appearance at the house, during which Bryce gave me another sad hug and I smiled awkwardly at people when they gave me the look I had become so familiar with in the last week. I was able to excuse myself and leave quietly with Monty and Scott in tow. The three of us made our way to the docks, after a quick stop at my place for a flask refill and extra bottle of vodka. I sat on the railing, staring out at the ocean, blankly. My companions flanked me on either side. The metal flask was passed silently between us until it was decided that I was “thoroughly fucked up” as Monty put it. The burn of the alcohol had stopped bothering me long before that.

“I cannot deny that statement.” I said, watching the waves.

“Ready to go home then (Y/N/N)?”

I turned my head to face him with wide eyes, “no. What do you think my parents would say if I showed up at home drunk?”

“Today?” Scott asked.

“I think, given the day you’ve had, they would understand. Plus, you were hanging out with me so they know you’re safe.” Monty shrugged.

“It’s the middle of the day. And you have been drinking since before eleven. There is no way you can drive right now.” I closed my eyes to stop the spinning in my head.

“I can drive. I haven’t had that much to drink.” Scott offered. It was true. He spent most of his time with the flask, holding it in his hand.

“See? Scott can drive. It’ll be fine. But if you scratch my car, I’ll beat you.” Monty threatened.

“Sure, you will Monty.” Scott laughed. We spent the rest of the day driving around town until I sobered up enough to go home, where I fell asleep as soon as I laid on my bed.

OCTOBER/NOVEMBER

The rest of September and much of October went by in a blur. I often found myself wondering if this was going to be my life now. Was I always going to be the girl whose boyfriend died? The staring stopped after a few weeks. And a couple of weeks after that, people started to move on. It was deemed socially acceptable for everyone else to continue living their lives. Sheri Holland stopped making weird eye contact with me. I wonder what that is about. Clay had seemed to stop openly pining over Hannah Baker. The guys were able to find ways to fill their time without being upset about Jeff. Everything was so… normal. The only person who wasn’t allowed to move on, it seemed, was me.

Everything was normal. Until Hannah Baker’s suicide. In the span of two months, Liberty had lost two students. Being a year older than her, we seemed to be more removed from the situation. It was still sad though. Especially when I watched how it was impacting Clay Jensen. Jeff had taken the boy under his wing while he was being tutored. I had asked him about it one night while we were on a date. Jeff had replied in his usual, happy go lucky glass half full tone, that “Clay is helping me with my grades and I’m helping him with Hannah. They’re good for each other.” I smiled fondly at the memory. Things were so much simpler then. People still looked at me in the halls. They still whispered when I passed. It became easier to ignore them. The drunk driving posters which had upset me so much when they were posted because I knew that Jeff wasn’t drinking that night, were replaced with suicide prevention posters. For the majority of my fellow seniors, Hannah Baker was just a girl. For me, she was just a girl. A girl who my late boyfriend tried to set up with his friend. It was tragic. But in my mind, it paled in comparison to the tragedy I had experienced only a month earlier.

Eventually, everyone else had gone back to normal. Except for Scott Reed. We had never really been friends. I still couldn’t wrap my head around it. And while I appreciated what he did for me, both at school and at the funeral, we didn’t talk about it. He still didn’t really say a whole lot to me. Yet somehow, he was always just… there. I would catch him watching me. Or I would notice his ears perk up when I was mentioned as the guys passed me in the halls. Montgomery of all people even noticed. “You know, Scott was asking about you at practice the other day. What’s going on there (Y/N/N)?” He mentioned to me in the library one day. I merely shrugged and waved it off.

“He hasn’t really talked to me, so I don’t know.”

**

He was watching me again. His eyes followed me as I grabbed a book for my paper in the library. Stare at me any harder and you might set me on fire. Rolling my eyes, I turned and plastered on my best and brightest smile. Scott looked down and suddenly became very interested in his own book when he noticed me walking towards him. I pulled out the chair across from him and leaned in. “What’s your deal, Scott?”

“My deal?” he said into his book.

“Why are you staring at me? And why do you act like you aren’t?”

“I don’t stare at you (Y/N).”

“Then what do you call watching someone from across the hall and across rooms? Hmmm?”

“I uh… don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Monty said you’ve been asking about me.”

He looked up. “He did?”

“Yeah. So, I’ll ask again, what is your deal?”

“Nothing.” He pushed his book aside.

“Sure. Whatever.” I huffed. Pulling out my books, I got comfortable. I’m already sitting here. Might as well take advantage. We were quiet for a while. He was trying not to watch me study. This is the most normal thing I’ve experienced in at least the last month.

“I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“Oh.”

“He was my friend (Y/N).”

“I know. Thank you. For what you did for me. I realized I never said it before.”

“No problem.” The bell rang. Packing up our stuff, we wordlessly bid each other goodbye and went our separate ways.

That day in the library wasn’t the only time Scott and I studied together after that. One of us would find the other sitting alone at a table or looking for something in an aisle. Our interactions were mostly wordless. A nod here and there when we sat down. Maybe the odd whispered question about homework. A shared chuckle about something we read. We never talked about Jeff again though. It was too hard. Still too fresh for both of us.

Around the middle of November, our silent study sessions began to change. They got a little less quiet. It was like we were walking on soft dirt ground rather than eggshells. We started bringing snacks. “What’s in the bag today Har?”

“Mini pancakes, chocolate chips, and banana protein bites.” I said, as I opened the containers. I set them in the middle of the table so we could both reach. We were studying quietly, both of us focused on our respective assignments. I could feel his eyes on me.

“I thought we were past this Scotty.” I muttered, smiling into my book. It was Thursday. I did English homework in the library on Thursdays.

“Old habits and all.”

“Mhmm. Right.”

“Actually (Y/N)?”

“Yes Scott?”

“Did you want to grab a coffee at Monet’s or something later?” I stopped writing. His question caught me off guard. “As friends, obviously.” He added when he noticed my hesitation.

“Sure. Say 4:30?”

“4:30 works.”

“Okay.”

I met Scott at Monet’s just after 4:30. We had both gotten stuck behind the same accident. He held the door open for me and even conceded when I suggested we pay separately since it wasn’t a date. I got a triple americano with cream and he got a drip coffee with milk.

“It’s like quarter to five in the afternoon (Y/N).”

“I know. But this is my order.” Jeff did the same thing.

“I’m not judging.”

“It seems like you’re judging a little.” I smiled.

“Swear I’m not.” He chuckled. I nodded and took a sip of my coffee. We sat at an open booth near the coffee bar. It was far enough away from the table Jeff and I used to sit at that it felt okay to sit at.

Neither of us really knew where to start in a conversation. The ten minutes of silence we sat in, made it exceedingly clear that all we really had in common was Jeff and some shared classes. I decided to break the ice. “Aside from football, baseball, and making soup, what else do you like to do for fun?”

“Video games but I don’t think that’s the answer you’re looking for. Hmm. I like driving into the city to go to the movie theater and seeing whatever is playing next.”

“No, it wasn’t. Expected that answer. Random movies sounds cool.”

“Yeah. What about you?”

“I volunteer at the local animal shelter. What’s the weirdest movie you’ve ever seen doing that?”

“Central Intelligence, easy. It came out last year. It wasn’t a bad movie exactly. The Rock and Kevin Hart were in it. Just not my thing.”

“Huh. I heard about that one. My cousin went to see it. She didn’t like it much either.”

“Glad to know I’m not alone. What do you do at the shelter?”

“Oh, you know, walk the dogs and puppies. Pet the cats. Clean up the odd accident. Aside from that last one, it’s pretty nice. It’s the best when you see a friend who’s been there for a while or longer, finally get their forever family and forever home.”

“Oh yeah? What’s that like?”

“It’s hard to describe. Most of the dogs get this smile and almost are able to breathe normally again. The cats get cozy in their carriers or their box. It’s really adorable. They’re content.”

“That sounds like it’s really rewarding.”

“It is. You could swing by sometime if you want. See the animals.”

He seemed skeptical and I was worried I had overstepped. I know it’s been a while since I’ve dated, but this is just as friends. So I shouldn’t be worried about overstepping. “Are you sure that’s okay? Like you’re allowed to do that?” Oh, I see. That’s a relief.

“For sure. It gives them a chance to socialize. Don’t worry, the dogs and cats that have issues with people aren’t ready to be put on the adoption list or in the adoption section until they’re able to be around people safely. Any interaction with strangers is beneficial too so they aren’t as freaked when people come to look at them to potentially adopt. Plus, who doesn’t love to play with puppies and kittens?”

He laughed heartily. “I’ll think about it. Might have to take you up on your offer. What about the other animals?”

“Oh, I’m not really comfortable handling the birds and stuff so I kind of stay away from there. It’s not a problem for the shelter. They don’t want you to be uncomfortable or afraid.”

“That makes sense. You can tag along for a random movie sometime if you want.”

It was my turn to be slightly taken aback. “I’ll think about it. It sounds like a lot of fun.”

“Did you finish that already?” He nodded towards my now empty mug.

“Yes. It was delicious.”

Scott chuckled to himself softly. We still weren’t sure what to talk about, because we didn’t know what we had in common aside from Jeff and school. Somehow, we found things to talk about and the hour we expected turned into two. He looked at his watch. “My folks are expecting me for dinner in approximately no minutes. I should get going.” I checked my phone and my brows rose.

“I should get going too. Before they send the cavalry to find me.”

“Library tomorrow?”

“Yeah, sure Scott. I’ll see you there.” On my way home, I realized that for the first time in months, I hardly thought about Jeff this afternoon.

Our study sessions changed again after our not a date just friends’ coffee. Things were less awkward, and it seemed like we had found our footing for the most part. We talked to each other in the halls more and Scott had finally stopped watching me like a hawk. We were even cracking jokes with each other. He had begun treating me like everyone else was. Like I wasn’t going to break if he or someone else said the wrong thing. Like I was (Y/N) and not the girl whose boyfriend died.

DECEMBER

I arrived at school later than usual on a Tuesday morning. It had been a little under three weeks since our coffee not date. I immediately noticed Scott at his locker. His bag was slung over one shoulder and he was wearing his varsity jacket. He was talking to Mike. Mike was a senior in my Spanish class. I didn’t really know him all that well outside of that. I didn’t realize they were friends. When I walked past his locker, I overheard them talking about me.

“Why don’t you go for it and ask her?”

“I don’t know man. She’s really great and all but….”

“She was Jeff’s girlfriend. I get it.”

“He was my friend. I don’t want to overstep.”

“I know.” Mike said. I wanted to hear more of what they were saying so I bent down and undid the heel strap on my wedges. I fiddled with it while they talked. “This is going to sound horrible. I realize that so don’t hate me. I miss him as much as the next guy. I really do. But… Jeff isn’t here anymore, Scott. He’s gone.” You’re right Mike. That is horrible. “There isn’t really a line to overstep. It’s not like anyone can do anything to fix it. It just… is.”

“But do I want to be the guy who asks his dead friend’s girlfriend on a date?” A date? My cheeks flared. I couldn’t say that the idea hadn’t crossed my mind that Scott was an option. I had just felt absolutely terrible for it as soon as I did.

“Maybe you need to be. Maybe that could help both of you.”

“Help us what Mike?” Scott asked, the unease clear in his tone.

“Help you move…” Mike paused, “on isn’t the right word. Forward? That sounds better. Help you move forward. She needs someone and from what I’ve seen, she has Monty, those two girls who basically stopped talking to her after Jeff died, a couple of randoms she doesn’t seem to like that much, the baseball team-but it seems like they keep her around out of pity. And you. She has you.”

“And how would asking her on a date help me?”

“You have Monty, Charlie, and the baseball team. You think I think you like the rest of the team?”

“No.” He admitted.

“Exactly. And you have her. Jeff was your friend. He was her boyfriend. And he died. You both need someone to get through that. Because going through it when you feel like you’re alone, sucks. Besides, (Y/N) doesn’t strike me as the kind of person to stop being friends with someone if they ask her out and she isn’t interested in that. So, either way, she won’t not be in your life.”

“I guess you’re right.”

“Course I am. Now, go. Go shoot your shot. I gotta get to math.”

My eyes widened when their conversation ended abruptly like that. I wasn’t prepared. Quickly, I stood and sped off to my own locker. I had barely had time to open it and pretend to look for something before Scott was behind me. “Hey Ticat.”

“Oh, uh. Hey Scott.”

“Whatcha looking for?”

“Book for English.”

“Cool, cool.”

“Mhmm.” Oh my God this is awkward. Please don’t ask. I don’t know if I’m ready for that yet. Someone pulled my attention away before Scott could say anything else.

“(Y/N)!”

“What?”

“Monty and Alex just got into it in the parking lot. You have to come see this.” Once again this morning, my eyes widened. They’ll probably stick like this if it happens again today.

“I’ll be right there.” I turned to Scott, abandoning my bogus search, “I uh… I need to go take care of that. I don’t know if I’ll be able to study today.” Or tomorrow. Or the next day. Or the day after that.

“No problem. Go. I’ll see you later.”

“Okay, text me.” I called as I ran off.

I skipped our study sessions for the next week and I was cautious with our texts. It was like we were back at the beginning of our friendship. Could you even call it a friendship? Well, technically Friday wasn’t skipping. I had a doctor’s appointment. Scott didn’t appear to pick up on the change though. I wasn’t sure if it was because he was oblivious, like most other boys, or if he was just as freaked out as I was by the idea of dating. I used the time in the week that I should have been studying and would have been spending with Scott, to think about him. I thought about how easy our conversations had become and how comfortable and normal I felt with him. The way his piercing blue eye shone when he laughed. Or the way they narrowed slightly when he was silently judging some stupid comment his friends made. About how white his teeth were. The way he smiled when he finished a difficult homework problem. About how soft his hair looked. Oh dear. I’ve got it bad.

I texted Scott the next morning. Library this afternoon? He answered about half an hour later, while I was eating breakfast.

Sure. I’ll save you a seat.

Cool. I have leftover chocolate chip cookies.

In free period, I found Scott at a table in the corner of the library. His stuff was spread out on what looked like exactly half of it. There was a clear divide of where his stuff ended and where the free area was. Did he save half of the table for me? He looked up from his notes when I sat down. “Hey Ticat.”

“Hey Scotty. How’s the,” I paused and looked at his notes, “calculus coming?”

“It’s coming. I have a test tomorrow and I have no idea how I’m going to pass.”

“I can try to help you?”

“I’ll see how far I can get with this and go from there?”

“Of course.” I pulled out my geography notes and the cookies. We easily fell back into our usual silent study. It was like I hadn’t been bailing on him for a week.

When the bell rang, we packed up our belongings and snuck sly glances at each other.

“Walk you to class?”

“Sure.” I nodded and threw my book bag over my shoulder.

“How have you been this week?”

“You know. Busy.”

“Yeah. How was the doctor?”

“Good. I got a clean bill of health.”

“That’s good.” I cleared my throat, awkwardly. What happened to the way things were last week? “Hey (Y/N). Uh, did you want to maybe see a movie sometime?”

“A random see what’s playing next, movie?”

“Sure. Or, you know. You could pick a movie and we could see that.”

“Scott?” I stopped walking and stepped to the side of the hall.

“Yeah?”

“Are you trying to ask me out?”

“What would you say if I was?” I had to bite my lip to keep from laughing.

“I’d say I thought you would be much smoother and more direct. And also, I think I would like that.”

“Saturday afternoon?”

“Sure. Saturday works for me.”

“Awesome.” He stepped back into the crowded hall and walked me to class. Maybe Mike is right. Maybe this will be good for us. For me.

Saturday morning, I got up early to get ready. We had decided he would be at my place at 12:30. Since it had been so long since I had been on a first date and… and my last date had been with Jeff, I was more than a little anxious. I wasn’t sure what to wear. I wasn’t sure how to do my hair. I couldn’t call anyone to ask because I wasn’t sure I wanted to tell people I was going on a date. Staring at my closet didn’t really help the indecision. Jeans? Do people wear jeans on a first date? I pulled a few pairs out. A skirt is too formal. And I don’t want to make the wrong impression. Shirt? I need to wear a shirt. Flicking through the hangers, I picked a couple of choices that were nice but not too nice. Options in hand, I laid them out on the bed. The jeans were easy to pare down to one choice. I went with a comfortable pair of Levi’s. Again, they were nice, but not too nice. A safe choice. I ended up choosing a striped high neck tank top and grabbed a black cardigan to wear on top. Pulling a pair of flats out, I slipped them on and fixed my hair. I side braided it quickly and pulled a few pieces out to frame my face. It looked effortless. Presentable and like I thought about it, yes. But still effortless, nonetheless.

The doorbell rang just before 12:30. “I’ll get it!” I called out to my parents in the other room.

“K.” Mom responded. I hopped over to the door. Scott was standing on my porch with his hands in his pocket. His usual varsity jacket was traded for a simple grey hoodie.

“Hey (Y/N).”

“Hey Scott. Just let me grab my purse and we can head out?”

“Sure.” Purse in hand, Scott and I walked out to his car. He opened the door for me, and I smiled shyly at him. Why are you acting so shy? It’s Scott Reed. It’s not like you’ve never spoken to him before. Oh, I don’t know? Maybe because I’m going on a date with him?

“You look… really pretty.”

I blushed and looked down briefly. “Thank you. I wasn’t really sure what to wear, to be honest. You look pretty too.” I realized what I said, as soon as the words left my mouth. I can’t believe I just said that. Oh, my word. Scott burst out laughing. “Uh. I mean. Handsome. You look handsome. Very put together.”

“No, no. I’ll take pretty. I’m confident enough in my manhood that it’s a compliment. Not every day a girl calls me pretty. Let alone one I’m interested in.”

“Trust me, it happens. It might not be to your face. But it does happen.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” We were quiet for a time. My face was still pink from embarrassment. “Did you have any particular movie in mind?”

“No, not really. I thought we could give your whatever movie is next thing a go?”

“I like the way you think. As long as it isn’t 2001. Because there isn’t a more boring film in existence.”

“Oh my God, I know right? I had to see it with my cousin once for ‘family bonding time’ and I fell asleep like twice.”

“Your family does bonding time too?”

“Ugh. You don’t even want to know.” I sighed dramatically.

“Tell me about it next time?” Woah. Next time? That… doesn’t actually sound that bad.

“Next time? We haven’t even gotten through a movie together and you’re already talking about next time?”

“Well- I- uh- we-.”

“Scott. Relax. Ask me again on the way home?”

“Okay.” He sounded relived.

When we arrived at the Crestmont, the ticket person was staring blankly out the booth’s window. The joys of the Saturday afternoon shift, I guess. “Welcome to the Crestmont.”

“Hi. How are you?” Scott asked the boy. His name tag read Andrew.

“Good. And you guys?”

“Good.” We answered together.

“How can I help you?”

“Can we get two tickets to whatever is playing next?”

“Two tickets to Ferdinand in not 3D. That’ll be ten dollars please.” Scott handed him the cash and I took the tickets. “Enjoy the show.”

“Thank you.” I said.

Inside, the concession worker greeted us in a much kinder tone than the ticketer. “Any chance you’ll let me pay for the snacks?”

“Not even a little.”

“Oh, come on Scotty, you drove and paid for tickets. The least you could do is let me pay for snacks.”

“No, I’ve got it. Don’t worry about it Ticat.”

“Please?” I looked at him with my best puppy dog eyes. I could see the resolve begin to crack. “Pretty please?”

“Ugh. Fine. You can buy the snacks.” He caved, dramatically.

“Yay.” I said, softly. The cashier looked like she was trying not to laugh but she was smiling. “Hi. Can I get a pack of gummy bears and a medium Cherry Coke, please?” I turned to Scott, “are we sharing popcorn? I don’t really eat very much.”

“That sounds good.”

“Okay. And a large popcorn. And whatever he would like.”

“Can I get a pack of sour patch kids and a medium orange Fanta, please?”

“Coming right up.” I paid her and caught Scott grimacing in the corner of my eye. The puppy dog eyes always work. With our snacks in hand, we found some decent seats, given the time of day we were there. The movie was adorable. While it was technically for children, I found it to be incredibly heartwarming. Somewhere around thirty minutes into the film, our hands found each other on the shared armrest. We turned and smiled shyly at each other.

After the movie was done, we walked back to his car, hand in hand. It felt strange but also kind of nice. “I’m getting snacks next time, if I have to steal your wallet.”

“Scott Reed, commit a crime? Why I never.”

“You’d get it back after the movie.”

“Fine. But I thought next time was when I got to bore you with family bonding time stories.”

“Only because I get to bore you with mine. And fine. Then the third date.”

“It’s a date.”

JANUARY

Scott and I had been dating for about a month by now. We were keeping it on the down low. I wasn’t ready to announce to people that I was no longer the sad, grieving, heartbroken girl who was destined to be alone that they thought I should be. Scott understood that. As far as anyone at school was concerned, Scott and I were just friends. We had already been studying together so it wasn’t out of the ordinary that we were still doing that. They must have missed all the coy or longing glances we shot each other. If anyone saw us together outside of school, they assumed we were just helping each other through Jeff’s death.

Scott and I were on a date at Monet’s. It was a Sunday afternoon. It was abuzz with patrons looking for an afternoon pick me up after church or brunch. But to us, it may as well have been empty. We were still in that ‘we are the only two people who exist when we are together’ stage. Scott had just gotten back from ordering us a couple of refills. He had memorized my order already. I thought it was the sweetest thing. “So, we’ve never really talked about it but,” he paused. Oh no. Please don’t ask about Jeff. I’m not ready to get into all of that. And I don’t want to do it in public. I’m going to cry. I know I will. “you and Monty seem pretty close. What’s the story there?” Oh, that’s it? Just Montgomery? Phew.

“Not really much of a story. We grew up next door to each other before my parents moved across town in eighth grade. His family moved in about a year after mine did. I kind of took him under my wing, especially as we got older. There weren’t many kids our age in the neighbourhood. Or at least, none our moms would be okay with us spending time around. So, we had each other.”

“Interesting. He never mentioned it.”

“Well, he likes to keep his home life… private. Or….” I paused, unsure of how much Scott knew. It wasn’t my place to air that information unless necessary. Which, if you ask Monty, was never.

“As private as he can when his dad is his dad.”

“You know?”

“Yeah. He’s crashed on my couch a few times. And it’s kind of hard not to notice the bruises.”

“Yeah. Unless you’re and authority figure at school in this town apparently.” I muttered, bitterly. Scott scoffed in agreement.

“Your parents never…?”

“Offered to help? Of course, they did. He always refused. And as long as he knew he could escape to our place and be safe, they felt it ‘wasn’t their place to interfere’.” I rolled my eyes.

“I see.” He nodded, rolling his eyes too. “My parents are the same way. Give the kid a safe place for the night, some breakfast in the morning, and send him on his way.” I nodded.

“Anyway, yeah. We grew up together. Even though we are a year apart, it never really affected our friendship. Things were a little harder for a while after we moved. But that only lasted a few weeks. Everything went back to normal soon enough.”

“Cool. It’s good that he has you. The other guys….”

“Can be terrible excuses for human beings?” Scott laughed and smirked into his cup with a raise of his brows.

“Yeah. That’s one way to put it.”

“You know, it’s weird. Because I saw it from the outside looking in, in freshman year. And then when Jeff and I started dating in sophomore year, I got to see it from the inside to a degree. I never understood how Jeff did it. Or how you do it.”

“What do you mean?”

“Well. You and Jeff are so… good. Like inherently good. I get the teammates and ‘you’re like family’ thing. But you guys are so different from the rest of them. And I see it with Monty too. Because I see the him that he doesn’t want the guys to see. The decent him. But he fits better I guess because I know he can have his, let’s call them moments. I never understood how you could stand by and watch it. I’m not trying to attack you or anything. Just so we are clear.”

“No, no I know. I guess… I guess it’s because you don’t want to be the odd guy out. Even though Jeff never said or did anything, he was still looked at like a brother. He was able to stay in the background with all of it and almost be the glue that kept the team from falling into complete debauchery. He gave us a shred of decency. So, everyone else had something to look to. Whether they always listened to the ‘Atkins Voice of Reason’ or not is a different story. I learned a lot from him and now it’s my turn to be the voice of reason. It’s a fine line and it can be hard to walk sometimes. But someone has to.”

“I guess that makes sense.” I nodded. We spent a little longer talking about lighter topics before parting ways. We snuck a few kisses in the alley beside the building first though.

FEBRUARY

Since we had started dating, Scott had come by the animal shelter a few times to help out. He said it was to see me. I saw right through his lies. He mostly just wanted to play with puppies for a few hours. I didn’t blame him though. I would do the same thing. He surprised me on a Wednesday evening. I came back into the shelter from a walk with a German shepherd and a rottweiler. It was a long one, so they were happy to be back so they could lounge around and beg for attention. When I entered the kennels, Scott was sitting in the middle of the puppy room, surrounded by a puddle of puppies. He was being attacked by fluff. One of the labs, Daisy, was trying to scale his chest to lick his face. A terrier mix, appropriately named Jack, was trying to get his attention by gnawing on his hand. He was giggling and had the absolute brightest smile on his face. A loud bark tore my attention away from him. The rottweiler was apparently upset that I wasn’t paying attention to him. “Oh, I’m sorry Rascal. Did you need something? Do you need some attention?” I cooed and reached out to rub his head.

“Need some company? My shift is over.” I asked as I walked into the room and shut the door firmly behind me.

“Always. How was your evening?”

“It was good. Only had to deal with a few accidents. How was practice.”

“It was alright. We had more than a few accidents.” He chuckled. Daisy had appeared to have managed the climb and was cuddled against Scott’s chest.

“I see you’ve made a new friend.”

“It looks like I have. She’s very cute. Think I could convince mom and dad to let me bring her home?”

“With you going off to college next year? I don’t think so.”

“Damn. At least that one has stopped trying to eat me.” He nodded towards Jack. He was curled up in a ball in his lap, sound asleep. The rest of the puppies were either sleeping now or trying to get attention from me. I shared the pets and love as equally as I could.

“Yeah. He hasn’t learned all of his manners yet. Eating people is not the most polite thing to do when you’re trying to get adopted.” We laughed quietly together. After another half hour, it was time to call it a night and head home.

A couple of Sundays after the puppy puddle, I decided I was ready to take a big step. I was finally ready to go and see Jeff’s grave with Scott. I had been on my own before and it had been hard. I would sit and talk to him for hours. I couldn’t tell him about Scott though. I felt like we had to go together to do that. Depending on what you believe, he probably already knew about us. But I wanted to tell him anyway.

I called Scott that morning. “Hey. Are you busy later?”

“Hey Ticat. No, I’m not. Why? Something on your mind?”

“Yeah. I was wondering if you wanted to go to Jeff’s grave with me today. Tell him about us?”

“Are you ready for that?”

“I think so. It’s time. I feel like it’s time for him to know. I need to tell him, but I don’t want to do it alone.”

“Of course, (Y/N). I’ll pick you up at one?”

“Okay.”

I decided to wear a skirt and a flowy top today. It was a nice day out. Scott picked me up and we stopped at the florist for some flowers. Jeff always got me purple tulips, so I grabbed a bouquet of them to leave on his headstone. At the cemetery, I walked hand in hand with Scott. We were both silent as we wandered through the maze of people’s final resting places. When we passed Hannah Baker’s grave, I took a single flower out of the bunch and placed it on her headstone.

It was both so long and yet much too fast before we were standing at the foot of Jeff’s grave. I neatly placed the flowers on the base of his headstone. Someone must have been by to visit recently because there was a worn-out baseball cap hanging off the corner. I could feel Scott’s eyes on me as I sat down and smoothed out my skirt. Since I normally came alone, I wasn’t really sure where to begin or what to say. He sat down beside me but didn’t reach out to take my hand. He was letting me do everything in my own time.

“I don’t know if you can hear me, wherever you are. But I’m choosing to believe you can.” Scott started after I hadn’t said anything. “I miss you. Everyone misses you. Coach Rick is still the same hard ass he’s been. We are hanging your jersey before our season opener. There’s some argument about if it should just be the team or if we should do it at the pep rally. I think you would want it to just be us.”

“Mrs. Davidson finally stopped reading out loud to us in Literature this week. Remember how she would just go on, and on, and on about the smallest, most insignificant details? And we don’t have to listen to her boring, monotone voice read every class now.”

“We have a chance at making state again this year. It won’t feel the same without you though. The guys are going a little crazy but I’m keeping things together. I think (Y/N) being around helps though. She really is amazing man. You have no idea how lucky you were to be with her. Or maybe you do. With the way you paraded her around like she was your pride and joy.”

“We really had something special. And I wish you were still here to keep sharing it with me. But you aren’t. And eventually, that will be more okay. And it will hurt less. But for now, it sucks. And it hurts. But I’ve started learning how to get through it. And I have help.” I reached out to take Scott’s hand in mine. He squeezed it. “Scott has been there for me every step of the way. Even the times when I wouldn’t be there for me if I were him. He’s seen it all. Heck, he’s seen me puking on the side of the road.”

“Or getting piss drunk at the docks.” I pushed him lightly.

“Yes. And he’s shown me that even though it hurts, I can let someone in again. I can be happy again. We’ve been together for a couple of months now. It’s harder some days than others. But he’s always there for me, no matter what. I understand why you liked him so much. He makes it hard not to. I see parts of you in him and it makes me smile on the hard days.” I had to pause because I was getting choked up.

“I see why you loved her so much. She makes it hard not to. She’s kind and smart and selfless. Even when she doesn’t need to be, she is. I wish I didn’t have to be, because you should still be here, but I am so thankful that I have the privilege of being with her. I hope you know that I will take care of her and I work every day to make her feel as loved and important as you made her feel. Our story can’t compare to yours, but I hope it makes you proud.” My tears had started to fall, and Scott pulled me into his lap. I cried into his shoulder. This was so much harder than I thought it would be. I miss Jeff. When my tears were under control, I looked at Scott for a moment. I looked back at Jeff’s headstone and was silent for a while. I was the first to stand. Brushing the dirt off my skirt, I reached out for Scott’s hand. He stood behind me and wrapped his arms around my waist. I moved the ball cap on top of the flower stems so it wouldn’t blow off in the wind.

“I love you.” I whispered. Turning around, Scott and I walked back to the car silently and drove home in somber, yet comforting silence.

MARCH

I was asleep on Scott’s chest when my phone began buzzing on the bed beside me. I slowly woke up and groggily searched for the unexpected noise. “Hello?” I whispered; my voice thick with sleep.

“(Y/N)?” Monty’s voice came through the other end of the line. He sounded like he was in immense pain. I sat up slowly, so I didn’t wake Scott.

“Monty, what’s wrong?”

“My arm. It really hurts. My old man. I, fuck, I don’t think I can drive. Can you come help me?”

“Uh…” I paused, looking at the man sleeping soundly beside me. “Yeah. Give me fifteen, twenty minutes.”

“Okay.” He said before he hung up.

I noted the time before waking Scott. It was just after one in the morning. “Scott.” I whispered, shaking him slightly. He grunted in response. “Scott, wake up for a second.” I urged again.

“Hmm? Wha’s goin’ on?” he mumbled as he woke up.

“I need to go take care of something. I don’t know when I’ll be back. You can stay here and go back to sleep. If I’m not back when you wake up, you can go home or you can stay here. If you stay there is cereal in the cupboard, and K-cups under the Keurig. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

“Okay (Y/N).” He muttered, already falling back asleep.

After quickly changing into a clean shirt and sweatpants, I ran downstairs. I left Scott a note on my dresser so he wouldn’t be too confused if he didn’t remember my telling him goodbye. I pulled up in front of Monty’s house and we drove silently to the hospital. I really hate it here. “What are we telling them this time?” I asked after I paid for parking.

“Sex?”

I blinked at him slowly. “What the hell kind of sex results in a possibly broken arm?”

“The really kinky kind?”

“Pick something better.”

“I fell down the stairs?”

“Alright. That could be believable.” With that, we made our way into the ER to have his arm fixed. We waited an hour to be seen and then another forty-five minutes for an X-ray.

“It looks like you won’t need surgery. I will need to cast it though.” The doctor advised.

“Alright.” Monty replied calmly, the pain meds having done their job. The doctor produced a bin of colours to choose from.

“Pick a colour and I’ll have you on your way soon.” He looked through them and decided on blue. Once wrapped and we were going to be on the way, the doctor added, “turn on the light next time.”

“Will do Doc. Thank you.” Monty replied and waved with his good hand.

Once we were in the car and on the way to my place, I realized I would need to explain Scott being over to him. Just tell him. I sighed before speaking. “Hey, so my parents are out of town, but you’ll need to sleep in the guest room.”

“Uh… okay? Why?” he asked.

“Because?”

“Because why?”

I felt my face heat up a bit. “Um… my room might already be… occupied?” I squeaked. I peeked over and his eyes widened.

“You mean…?”

“Mhmmm.”

“Who is it?”

“Scott?” I said, my voice raising an octave or two. Monty breathed out a whistle.

“Are we okay with that?”

I paused again, thinking. “Yes. Yeah, we are.”

“Well alright then.” he replied, leaning back and getting comfortable in the passenger seat. The house was quiet when we got back around four-thirty. Monty was tucked in the guest room as I slinked my way back into my own room. Scott was still sleeping soundly in bed. I crawled in beside him and went back to sleep for a few hours.

The following morning, I woke up and quietly made my way downstairs for breakfast. Monty followed not long after me, grabbing a mug and pouring himself a mug of coffee. I waited until he sat down and had a few sips before greeting him. “Morning Monty. Sleep okay?”

“Morning (Y/N). I slept okay. You?”

“It was alright. Warmer than I’m used to.”

“I’ll bet it was.” He smirked at me.

“Oh shush you.” Monty chuckled softly as I rolled my eyes.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

“Yeah. I am.” I nodded, smiling.

“Good. That’s good.” He nodded and took another sip of coffee. We heard footsteps coming downstairs and looked up.

“Morning (Y/N).” Scott muttered from the middle of the stairs.

“Morning Scott.” I replied.

“Morning Scotty.” Monty greeted, as though this was a perfectly normal Saturday morning. Scott almost missed a step, he stopped so fast.

“Uh. Morning Monty?” He looked to me and raised a brow.

“He needed me last night. I had to tell him.” I shrugged.

“Okay.” He said, walking over to the Keurig and making a cup of coffee. The three of us stood around the kitchen slightly awkwardly looking at each other.

“Same rule applies as with my car. I’ll beat you if you scratch her.”

“Jump right to the threats, why not?” I muttered into my mug.

“I’m sure you will, Monty.”

“Damn straight.”

“Even though I’m your favourite friend?”

“(Y/N) is my favourite.”

“I’m your person. Not your favourite.”

“Yes you are.”

“You don’t call your favourite when you kill someone and need help hiding the body.”

“Excuse me?” Scott interjected, alarmed.

“She made me watch Grey’s Anatomy with her over spring break a couple of years ago.”

“Oh. I see. How was that?”

“It’s network tv with a lot of censored sex. And drama.”

“No boobs?”

“No boobs.”

“Yeah, it would be better with boobs. And if everyone stopped leaving and dying.” I added.

“Does this mean I have to watch it with you?”

“No, you might have to sit through an episode of The Bachelor though. I mostly just watch it because I don’t understand how none of those stupidly attractive people can find dates on their own.”

“You hate watch it. I can’t wait.”

“Well, you’ll get to look forward to what happens after we get done hate watching it.” I retorted, lowly. Scott rose his brow suggestively.

“Oh really?”

“And on that note! Who wants… whatever I can make (Y/N) cook with eggs, peppers, and… meat? What is this meat?” Monty cut in as he went through my fridge.

“I think it’s pork. Could be ground turkey though. There’s potatoes in the cupboard. Breakfast hash?”

“Sounds delicious.” Scott answered. I moved around him and got the bag of potatoes so I could start helping.

“How long has this been going on for anyway? Also remember that I’m still here so you can’t be all touchy.”

Scott looked at me before answering. “Since December.”

“How did I not notice?” Monty said after a pause.

“I don’t know. Too busy with sports and Bryce? There’s also spinach. Do I add the spinach?” I turned around and the boys were both making faces. “No spinach then.”

“I was not busy with Bryce.”

“Mhmm. That’s not why you blew off our movie marathon tradition?”

“Okay, point made.”

“How’s your arm?”

“It’s okay, hurts like a bitch. Why, Scott?”

“Just asking.” Scott turned to me and whispered, “his dad?” I nodded.

“No flirting.”

“I didn’t get to kiss her good morning, give me a break.” I turned and watched Scott playfully flip Monty off. Then, he placed a soft kiss to my lips and I smiled into it. “Good morning beautiful.”

“Good morning handsome.”

***

“Monty knows now.”

“He does.” I replied, leaning back into his chest on the couch. “He’s okay with it.”

“That’s good.”

“You aren’t going to be jealous, are you? Because there is nothing going on between us.”

“No, I know. What was the fight about this time?”

“Who knows. He called me and said he needed me, so I went. He wanted to tell the doctors it was a sex accident.”

Scott laughed. “What the fuck kind of sex would that have been?”

“The kind that would have broken his wrist, not his forearm.”

“You would have been the top?”

“Yes. So, you see why we couldn’t say that.”

“Right. That’s why.”

“We said he fell down the stairs.”

“Plausible.”

“Anyway, no idea what it was. But knowing his dad, it could have been anything. There’s a reason I don’t go to his house very often.” I left it at that and we cuddled on the couch for a while.

“Hey Scotty?”

“Yeah, (Y/N/N)?”

I sat up and turned to him. “Now that Monty knows, do you think we could tell other people? Maybe… maybe enough time has passed that people will understand?”

“I think we can tell people, if you want to. I don’t care what people think. I would have told everyone in January if you wanted to.”

“I know. I just… I don’t know how to do this. I’ve never been the girl whose boyfriend died before.”  

“I know. People might talk for a few days, but they’ll move on. No one expects you to have stayed single for the rest of your life.”

“Not my whole life necessarily. Just the rest of high school.” I joked.

“The people who complain can fuck off.”

“I guess. And things have kind of gone back to normal now. Or as normal as they can.”

“We don’t have to tell people if you don’t want to (Y/N).”

“I do. I think we need to. I don’t want to hide you anymore. It’s time for me to start living my life in the open again.”

“And honestly, I’m tired of hiding you.” We spent a little longer watching tv together. It was nice having someone I could just sit and be with again. We each took turns choosing shows. “I should probably head home soon sweetheart.”

“Okay. I’ll see you Monday?”

“Of course.” Together we gathered up his things and tidied the kitchen. Scott kissed me goodbye, and I leaned against the front door after he had driven away.

Monday would be the last big thing I had to do before graduation. It was the last step in beginning to move forward. I would always love Jeff Atkins. He would always be a part of me and hold a special place in my heart. But I had realized over the last several months that I could be happy again. I wouldn’t be betraying him for allowing myself to fall in love with someone again. And I had Scott Reed to thank for that.

.𖥔 ݁ ˖ SWALLOWIN’ MY PRIDE

↳ series masterlist!

↳ summary: in which chris is forced to swallow his pride as he comes to terms with the new that y/n has shared, realizing it’s not just her fault. however when he mentions the alternatives, he fails to see how much it hurts his girlfriend.

↳ pairings: boston bruins player!chris sturniolo x fem!reader!

↳ warnings: swearing, angst, chris not wanting a kid, verbal arguments, big talks about abortions and giving the kid up for adoption, mentions and descriptions of vomiting, a loooot of angst tbh.

↳ important things to note: this is a heavy chapter so please keep that in mind if you choose to keep reading, i’ve done my part and have warned you about what this chapter entails so please do yours and close out of this fic if you cannot handle those topics. i am not your mother i cannot stop you, but if you choose to keep going despite being uncomfortable with the things i’ve warned you about, you are not allowed to get upset with anyone but yourself. enjoy<3

THIRD PERSON POV

chris was left utterly speechless as he stared at the thin plastic stick in his hand. the only thing running through his mind, was “what am i going to do? i just signed the contract today?” he felt guilty being so absorbed in his doubts about his career but it was something he had worked for his entire life. he knew his concerns were selfish, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop worrying about them.

the words “we’re pregnant, chris.” rang in his ears like a bell chiming, he felt his breath get stuck in his throat and he wasn’t able to breathe. he quickly shifted y/n off his lap so he could begin pacing, he held his head in his hands as his skates clunked against the padded locker room floor.

“what the fuck are we going to do y/n?” chris spits, his voice broken and unsteady as he looks at his girlfriend, her eyes red with unshed tears as she shook her head softly and shrugged.

“i don’t know chris.”

“why weren’t you careful?” chris exclaims, unintentionally putting all the blame on her as her head snaps up, her brows furrowed tightly as she breathes out a listless laugh.

“how is this all my fault?”

“i’m not saying it’s your fault. but why didn’t you just get an abortion?”

“in case you forgot what you were taught in fifth grade health class, it takes two people to make a baby, chris. you were the one that wanted to hit it raw and you promised to pull out but clearly you didn’t. and i didn’t want to abort it without your input because this child is half of you, too. and i would not be able to sit through that alone!“ she scoffs, tears dripping down her cheeks as she stares up at him, guilt and regret chipping away at the slight glimmer of hope that chris would be okay with it that she held.

“i just signed a good contract baby, i can’t miss my games for this shit.” chris sighs, his heart rate slowing down, but his mind was still racing, leaving him blind to the internal battle his girlfriend was facing.

he felt sick, he had everything mapped out for the next five years and this baby completely threw a wrench in everything that he had meticulously planned. there was no way a baby this early in his career would look good, it’d make him look reckless and uncaring about his job.

“do you not think i’ve been thinking about that, chris? that’s the only thing i’ve been thinking about since i found out or even had the slightest idea i was pregnant, i have been terrified of derailing the life plans you’ve set up for yourself and i don’t know what the fuck to do but what i do know, is that we’re pregnant and we have to make a decision about this. so until you’ve processed this, you can stay with one of your brother’s, i will be waiting at home.” y/n replies, her voice gradually getting quieter and breaking even more as she finishes. wiping her tears, she quickly exists the room, the need to vomit overcoming her.

her mind wouldn’t stop racing. it brought every possible scenario to the surface and she was beyond scared. what was she going to do? chris sure as hell didn’t seem to want the baby, and she thought she didn’t either but talking about it to chris had her realizing that she wants a family more than anything.

as she knelt in front of the toilet , she couldn’t help but laugh internally. finding out you’re expecting a child was supposed to be a joyous and happy time. finding out that you’re carrying a life that is half of yourself and the person you’re in love with, the person you’re fully committed to for life, was supposed to have you feeling over the moon. and instead, it had y/n’s stomach twisting with guilt, regret, heartache, and distress.

ash she wiped her mouth and flushed the toilet, she sat on the edge of it, letting her tears fall as she let the feelings of hopelessness and loss fully consume her heart. would she really see this pregnancy to term if chris didn’t want anything to do with her and the baby? if she did, would she let chris back into her life when he decides he wants a family? or would he seek a family somewhere else?

“how the fuck am i going to survive this without him?” she whispered to herself, quickly exiting the public washroom and making a beeline for the front entrance.

chris on the other hand, was stoic as stared at the wall opposite of him, the thin plastic stick beside him taunting him and his mind, almost as if it was telling him that he was acting selfishly. instead of comforting his girlfriend, who was as equally terrified of their recent news as chris, if not more? he blamed her. he yelled at her.

he callously told her to abort their baby to be. to get rid of the life growing inside her as if it meant nothing. as if it wasn’t the product of two people that loved each other deeply. even if it wasn’t planned or considered, that child to be was still the result of chris and y/n’s love. of the fact that they held each other so closely that they made love without any preventative measures. but chris couldn’t look at it that way, he didn’t want to.

his focus was on his career, hockey was everything to him. it made him everything he is. but was hockey really the only thing that mattered to chris? as he mulled over the answer, images of y/n sobbing as she held the freshly positive test, of her sobbing and scared in front of him waiting for him to pull her into his arms in the middle of that locker room flash through his mind. he felt guilty, he hadn’t even hugged her as she sobbed, he so badly wishes he could rewind the clock a few minutes so he could react differently but he couldn’t.

he knew he wanted a family at some point in his life, but now? it was so early. he wanted to bask in all the glory of being the newest and youngest star on the bruins without the responsibilities of his personal life hanging over his head. but that wasn’t possible.

as his team made their way down the hall, chris shoved the test into the side pocket of his hockey bag and plastered a fake smile on his face. the team cheered and hollered as they had won the game. chris joined in on the festivities, briefly forgetting the decision he had to make as the team got dressed in their suits and dress clothes, deciding to hit the bar in the lounge above the rink nd celebrate their win and landing bracket in the playoffs.

y/n was in the complete opposite state, she sat at the table, the meal she had prepped hours ago as soon as she got home after leaving the game early sat on the table in front of her. it had grown cold and stale as she tried to bring the urge to eat to life but she couldn’t bear the thought of choking back her food. she hated eating without chris. she knew he wasn’t going to join her after she told him to stay with one his brothers, but out of pure muscle memory she made a plate for him and it sat across the table from her, taunting her, as if to say “this is what your future will look like if chris decides he doesn’t want the baby.” and it broke her heart into a million shards.

could she really handle a life without him? they’ve been together for so long as it is. was it worth it to go through everything that they have already, just for a child to tear them apart? she didn’t know the answer to that and she didn’t want to. she hoped that somehow, chris’ mind would change and he would have this great epiphany and realize he wants this, the family life with y/n.

she knew how important this spot on the bruins’ team was to chris, she knew that more than anybody else. but was it more important than a life with the woman he called his soulmate? was his career more important to him than his relationship?

y/n, truthfully, had began to believe it was. he would call off dates and anniversary dinners to go hang out with the team, he would come home late the nights he promised to be home early. he put so much of their time together on the back burner, and maybe this child was the wake-up call she needed. maybe she wasn’t cut out for the life of dating a superstar hockey player.

sighing, she cleared the plates off, putting the leftovers in an air-tight container and leaving them for her or, hopefully, chris to eat another day. she quickly loaded the dishwasher and started it before cleaning the rest of the kitchen. as she had finished, she flicked off the main kitchen light, leaving the light above the stove on so that when chris came home, if he had made up his mind yet, he wouldn’t be surrounded by complete darkness. but she knew in the back of her mind, chris coming home tonight was just wishful thinking.

as she laid in bed, she scrolled through instagram, chris’ story updates catching her eye. pressing down on his profile circle surrounded by a pinkish purple ring, she was met with the sight of chris and john shot gunning beer in their suits, leaving her slightly hurt that instead of talking about things with her or his brothers he chose to party with his team. she knew that making an appearance at the after parties was important, she had just hoped their situation was more important. but refusing to let herself dwell on what she meant to chris, she rolled over and willed herself to sleep.

it had been a few days since her confession to chris and she had yet to hear even just a single word from him. and the silence was killing her. after her doctors appointment, which confirmed that she was in fact two months along, she had received texts of congratulations and more from his family so she assumed he had said something and maybe he wasn’t completely ashamed of what was happening, but she had a gnawing feeling of doubt in her stomach telling her that wasn’t the case.

“matt i don’t know what to think.” chris sighed, looking to his more level-headed brother for advice in this situation.

“well chris, do you really want her to abort it? like can you live with the fact that you’re putting her through that, you know that she’s completely all for it, but it’s different when it’s the one going through it. so would you be able to live with the fact that you’re pushing her to take away this chance, both of yours and hers, at a family right now?”

“well when you word it that way-“

“and who’s to say that you won’t be looking at having a family the same way down the line if, let’s say, she aborts the baby now and this entire thing happens again? would you put her through it twice? when you could just as easily implement all the later plans with your career that included a family into your plans for now. it would be much easier to maneuver things around right because the ink on your contract has barely dried yet. you do it later down the line and shit could go up in flames. but if you’re still dead set on pushing her to an abortion, by all means do it. it’s up to you man but from the way you’ve talk about it, y/n wants to have a family so what you’re doing is most likely killing her, and if you pushing her to do this wrecks your relationship, you won’t find another girl to love you the way she does. and i know you didn’t actually ask for it, but my opinion is that you’re being a fucking idiot. you and i both know that all you’ve wanted with y/n is to raise a family. you talked about your future kids’ names with her two months into the start of your relationship. so i’m not sure why you’re doing all this shit, chris.” matt rambled, his words cutting directly into the flesh of chris’ heart, he knew matt was right. every word he spoke nothing but truth clinging to it. so why was he putting both him and y/n, mainly y/n, through all of this? sighing, chris nodded and thanked him for the advice before plucking his keys off the counter of matt’s kitchen before heading out the door and climbing into his car.

chris made quick work of driving home to y/n, he felt so unbelievably guilty for leaving her alone with her thoughts for as long as he had. as he stepped into their shared home, he felt like an intruder, he didn’t feel like himself, because in what world would chris, the same chris who is so unbelievably and irrevocably in love with y/n, push her to terminate their child? chris should’ve been ecstatic and sobbing over the news. instead he let his job cloud his judgement and focus, and he felt terrible.

“baby?” chris calls out, quickly climbing the entryway stairs and standing in the main hallway, waiting for y/n to answer.

“in here.” she calls back, her voice tired and strained from all the crying she had done. as chris rounds the corner into their room, his heart breaks at the sight of her curled up on his side of the bed in his hoodie.

“i am so sorry y/n, i’ve been an asshole.”

“i’ll say.” she whispers, shifting back to her side of the bed as chris climbs in beside her.

“i want to apologize for blaming you, it’s not your fault. and for suggesting an abortion without actually hearing what you want. if you want one, i’ll support you. i talked to matt and he made me realize what a jackass i’ve been. if you genuinely want this baby, then i do too. i love you, and i want you to be safe and happy. and if having a family makes you happy, then i’m willing to raise this baby with you because in all honesty, i do want this baby.”

“what about your career?”

“we’ll figure that out when we need to.”

“okay. i love you.”

“i love you forever and a day, y/n. i’m so sorry i’ve been so shitty, i was scared and lashed out on you when i should’ve acknowledged that you were scared too, i shouldn’t have let you deal with it on your own.” chris hums, wrapping his arms around her as she dries her tears and rest her head against his chest.

↳ taglist: @dylsdunbar @verosivy @soursturniolo @4sturns @sturnsclutter @spencerstits @meanttomeet @bluesturniolo333 @graciereid @abbie13sworld @ghostofbrock @l9vesick @mylifeisevenstranger @bethsturn @ifilwtmfc @themattgirl @lovingmattysposts @lacysturniolo @freshsturns @forevergirlposts @sturniolo-fav-matt @cupidsword @strawberrysturniolo @lustfulslxt @sturnifyed @carolsturns1 @teapartyprincess4two @mangosrar @querenciasturniolo @pinklittleflower @cutenote @ellie-luvsfics @strniolo @junnniiieee07 @33sturniolo @heartz4chris @hearts4chris @evie-sturns @nicksmainbitch @gnxosblog @sturniolopepsi

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↳ this story is far from over, let me know if you want a part three <3 there’s gonna be so much angst i actually feel bad which is crazy bc i never feel bad for writing angst

yea idgaf about barbie not getting an oscar nomination or whatever when women in palestine are dying in childbirth, forced into unmedicated and not medically safe labor bc what choice do they have rn, contracting infections because they don't have sanitary products for periods, having to use tent scraps as menstrual products, using medications to delay periods, ect. like its a movie and those are real people who would vastly benefit from some real actionable feminism like supporting bisan in her call for a strike, continuing to boycott, and continuing to support palestinians overall

hot take .

men that call themselves “alpha” are borderline furries jus in denial 😗😗

I AGREE they're also just denying that they like dick 😛