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nouearth · 8 months

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an internship at wayne interprises. (part ii)

bruce wayne x male reader headcanons

part i.

warnings: smut, age gap, bottom reader, breeding, virgin!reader, top!bruce, established relationship, lowkey kind of fluffy, bruce is falling in love.

a/n: aaaand it's finally here! i hope you all enjoy the long awaited part two! i was watching american psycho recently and bruh, i forgot how hot he looked in it. like. i want to run my tongue all over him.

—as intimidating as bruce was, he never found the courage, or time really, to isolate you from your responsibilities.

—was it cowardliness that he was faced with? or was it that returning feeling that churned in his stomach, swelled in his chest, until it made him rethink the thoughts he’s had of you?

—guilt. he never felt it when he was jerking off to your pictures, which have become a daily routine now.

—but it returned in powerful marches, ached at the center of his heart, ridiculing him for thinking about his employee in such a crude, exploitive way.

—he always felt it when he saw you first thing in the morning, working quietly, mindlessly as your body had begun to become used to the caffeine.

—like wind chimes, you moved around people - around the wind - not with them, as you made your way to the break room.

—three packets of sugar and two spoons of creamer normally kept you awake, but the frozen pocket pizza in the toaster oven was the real source of your energy.

—bruce winced as he silently watched you from afar. you yawned, rubbed your eyes as the heat from the toaster oven warmed the surrounding area.

—jesus, no wonder you’re always so tired. look at the shit you’re eating.

—the march of soldiers, rioting against guilt, roared, and he was reminded of his privilege immediately after. a butler that had been providing him three nutritious meals a day since birth, and a garden of wealth that allowed him to afford a home gym with the best equipment; it was all handed to him and while he did his best to give back to the city, it was never enough to pacify the war zone of his chest. he was a person, a wealthy person, but a person nonetheless.

—you were a person.

—though ironically enough, he came to the the image of you hungrily licking the grease off your fingers when you were finished with breakfast later that night.

—there was always something new about you that he would fixate on when his hand met his cock, stroking it with a glorious amount of lube until it dried.

—though he never fretted, because your lips, your face, your nose - everything about you - milked him until the fresh stock of cum had become the only slime that layered his softening erection.

—like bruce’s nights, you’ve begun infiltrating the routine of his mornings now.

—or rather, bruce began infiltrating yours after he visited you in the break room for the first time.

—good morning, mister wayne…

—oh, new intern, right? your name was…?

—he always feigned his disinterest because he liked hearing your name come out of your handsome mouth.

—(m/n), sir…

—it sounded beautiful. the softness of your voice kindled a tenderness in bruce and it could’ve cradled him to sleep had the coffee from the break room not been so disgusting and cheap.

—the third time, he memorized the pattern you spoke in. your voice always trailed off at the end of a sentence as if it had been stolen by a criminal.

—it’s (m/n), sir…

—he wished he could be that somebody.

—the fifth time, he’d gotten used to the watery aftertaste of the coffee.

—wait, don’t tell me. your name rhymes with…

—and when you laughed because bruce was completely off by a mile, he saw a glimpse of your soul that had been sheltered by intimidation and anxiety.

—he learned he wanted to become a part of your life when he took you out for lunch.

—long overdue, but i usually take my interns out for lunch.

—bruce usually didn’t.

—oh—mister wayne, i don’t think that’s necessary… i already packed lunch.

—great! you don’t have to pack for tomorrow then.

—wait, but i haven’t set up the meeting with—

—i’ll get someone on it—already made reservations, c’mon.

—he’d learned so much about you that day, then the following, and the next; your upbringing, your hopes and dreams, your downfalls, it felt like he was walking on water with the way you willingly opened more of yourself every consecutive day.

—he could listen to you talk for hours, become poisoned by it if your voice was liquid, and bruce accepted that risk when he made another routine to invite you for lunch.

—previous nights were as followed: he stroked his cock to you, breathing heavily into the memory of your cologne, the wrinkles of your shirt, the curl of your lips when he made a joke.

—since he’d gotten to know you as more than a stained selfie, more than the meek statue that stood in the corner; instead of feeding himself with the thoughts of you that derived from pure lust, the reality of his nights had shifted.

—he stroked himself, that never changed. but he closed his eyes, breathing until he could see the ghost of you by his side.

—your shared bodies tensed into one another as his body curved forward into the arc of your back when he pushed in for the first time. you reached back to hold his thigh, pausing his thrusts because you needed to adjust, because you wanted to feel all of him in complete comfort.

—it was intimacy.

—it only melted - your body - when bruce kissed the shell of your ear, telling you that he’ll continue once you were ready. you let him in, sprouted for him like a bud in spring, and felt all of him swell larger inside of you with a whimper.

—it was vulnerability.

—he made sure you were touched, palming your erection as he rocked his own into your bud. from the nape of your neck to the hill of your back, he blessed you in the wet of his mouth, battling the sweat that had gathered on your body to see who would claim the vacancy of your body.

—he made sure to make you feel safe, drowning you in affection with his low voice, with the bridge that had constructed between your soul and his as he thrusted deeper, connected into you when he pressed into a spot that had the heavy air memorize every letter of bruce’s name.

—and finally crossed when he filled you with all of his endearment towards you, heavy and thick in combative sequence. he never pulled away in fret of losing the sentiment—in fret of losing you.

—it was love.

—from then on, bruce was devoted to melt the frost that had shielded you, just as you had melted his.

—because he was going to protect you now.

—the guilt that had been egging the shelter of his heart wilted in the pit of his stomach when he kissed you for the first time.

—and then completely died when you kissed him back.

—your arms were around his neck, and his were around your waist. you and bruce slow danced to the tune of his favorite song, in the middle of his living room, and so did your lips when he leaned in again.

—it never progressed further than that, despite the ache in bruce’s pants yelling at him to. he wanted to savor every moment with you, in case he happened to chase you away like he did with the others.

—you were special, and bruce held you like the rarest gem on earth for the first time that night.

—again, when he visited you in mornings to drive you to work.

—again, on nights where you were too tired to drive back to your apartment.

—again, after morning meetings were over and every businessmen and women left the vicinity upon the announcement of food catering a few floors down.

—and then again, when bruce’s thoughts had become a reality.

—b-bruce, ngh…

—you reached back to his thigh like in his thoughts, carefully maneuvering and pacing his thrusts into you. your breath stained deep into the cover of his pillow when bruce applied his weight into you, fitting his broad body to the dip of your back.

—i got you, hm? —nice and slow…

—his voice tickled your nape, soothing it with chaste kisses when your muscles tensed, and you breathed harder into the pillow when you let his thigh go, freeing him to do as he pleased. the warmth of your breath fogged your skin as his girth opened you to a profound feeling you’ve been too intimidated to discover

—faster, please…

—he was humored, not because you were embarrassing like the flush of your skin thought, but because you were still the same person he’d met months ago, appeased by it. you were calmed by an assurance, a kiss to your shoulder then your lips, yet your body only continued to bloom with roses.

—you’re still so polite even when we’ve done so many things together…

—bruce pressed deeper into you, panting in your ear as he delivered on your timid demands. he knew you now—read you like a book. you were too afraid to ask for anything despite becoming so vulnerable with each other, and he made sure that you were safe with him.

—your requests were silent sans the moans that have escaped, but he heard every single one of them. his hips drove into you harder for a few rhythms, then excruciating slower to coerce a plea out of you—to pull your beautiful moans along with desperation.

—he wanted to hear you, pulling himself completely out of your bud.

—f-fuuuuck, bruce! please—i need you, please.

—more, he needed to hear you want him as much as he’d been wanting you. his arms wrapped around your waist, and his fingers curled over your cock. it provided a friction, a hole for you to press into as his fist was sandwiched between your body and the bed, and you took the opportunity to desperately thrust into it.

—secretly, you’d hope to thrust yourself back onto his cock.

—but again, he knew you; silently observant and logical, and he raised his hips back, avoiding the desperate grinds of your bottom.

—how badly do you need me, hm? —how bad do you want me?

—bruce needed to hear it, to compel a truth to his prophecy. his hand unwrapped around you and you were left desperately grinding into the soft fabric of his sheets with a whine. they were music to his ears, and the drips of his cock dribbled over the curve of your bottom as if they were notes to a stave, to the sound of your torment.

—i-i need you, please…

—he exhaled.

—so bad.

—he gulped.

—so fucking bad…

—he throbbed.

—mister wayne… —please…

—bruce’s two worlds had collided: his previous thoughts of you rocketed into the current with a cloudy explosion, and he succumbed. you looked back at him with glassy orbs, sweat running down the side of your face, and bruce was overwhelmed by the beauty our deepest desires. how quickly it could destroy the barrier that we’ve built, how quickly he could destroy yours and unfurl your vulnerabilities when he finally drove himself back in one long and smooth thrust.

—f-fuuuuck...

—it was continuous. you wouldn’t admit it, but he knew you preferred being filled like this. he notified the curl of your fingers, clutching at whatever you could to fulfill the aching need to grasp onto something.

—god—

—hard when bruce came down, but slow and affectionate when he pulled out. you felt every thick inch sliding in and out of you. at times, you would purposely tighten in fear of losing bruce, but his thrusts reminded you that you wouldn’t.

—bruce reminded you again when his lips suckled on your shoulder.

—i’m close, (m/n)…

—when his hand stroked your aching cock.

—m-me too…

—and when bruce pushed all of his sweaty weight onto you with one hard thrust.

—shit, shit—

—the boiling feeling in his stomach unfurled inside of you to release his devotion in heavy, white loads. they filled you with heat, spreading thick within you as bruce slowly rocked himself weakly, squeezing every ounce of his love into you until you could feel it yourself.

—bruce—

—your eyes rolled back and you could feel the thick of his cum dripping out of you and down your legs the more he plunged into your hole, and it didn’t take very long for you to come undone yourself. the seam of your mouth kept your moans contained as you blasted bruce’s fist and the sheets with your affection, and it wasn’t until his hand came down to pump you that you exhaled a staggered, breathless groan. the drips came out heavy, sticky, and you rocked into bruce’s fist until they spread themselves thin onto your pelvis, over your cock, and stained deep into the sheets.

—as you both lay breathless, bruce remained on top, puzzled into you as he found comfort in your muscles loosening like the flaccid of your length. he continued playing with your soft flesh, squeezing and spreading the layer of seed that covered his hand, and chuckled when you silently squirmed.

—not away from him like he’d thought, but back into him.

—because he was your guardian now.

nouearth. please do not repost, plagiarize, or translate my works. and if you like this story, please reblog and leave a like!

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inthefallofasparrow · 5 months

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#poll

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comphy-and-cozy · 3 months

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love it if we made it - mat barzal

Pairing: Mat Barzal x OC (f)

Summary: Aurora Foster and Mat Barzal are friends. Sometimes with benefits, sometimes with unspoken feelings, but always with a little something extra. When they have the opportunity to close the cross-country gap between them, will they be able to overcome the skinny love and take their relationship to the next level?

Word Count: 9.2K

Author's Note: My first ever Barzal fic written for @thewintersoldierdisaster for @wyattjohnston's Winter Fic Exchange! You are such a talented writer and I really wanted to make this a good one - I hope I managed to get the Garden City details covered correctly. 😉 It was a blast to write for someone new even though I am still reluctantly slowly joining the Barzy train. Enjoy, my dear! Thank you to @smileysvech, @pyotrkochetkov, @jostystyles, and @Demi for all of your help in brainstorming, editing, sending inspirational Barzy pics, and the usual general insanity. Couldn’t do it without y’all. Also, just for the record, Mat has hair in this entire fic. No bald Barzy allowed.

Warnings: Mutual pining, angst, alcohol use (characters get drunk), Mat being a bit of a fuckboy. Smut (18+ ONLY); unprotected sex, general sexual tension/sexual themes. Masterlist

July 2013 - Vancouver, British Columbia

The crackling of the fire melds with the gentle splash of waves on the shoreline, crickets chirping happily amid the cool summer breeze. Smoke billows up, wafting to a deep sky sparkling with stars, not a cloud in sight.

Aurora Foster watches the flames, absorbing the warmth on her legs. There’s a blue koozie on the armrest of her Adirondack chair, holding a Diet Coke. She allows herself to sink into the warm, worn cotton of her Burnaby Winter Club sweatshirt, sighing contentedly.

“Anyone want more pizza? I’ve gotta rock a piss.”

Rolling her eyes, Aurora scoffs as the rest of the group murmurs no’s. “Charming, Fabbs.”

The next voice that rings out is clear. “Anyone wanna go for a late night dip?”

“Yeah, I’ll go.” This time of night is Aurora’s favorite time for a swim, when the lake is all but glass and the water feels like a lukewarm bath; not warm, but certainly not cold after spending a day baking under a bright British Columbia sun.

There are no other takers, so she looks expectantly across the fire. His dark hair is shaggy, unkempt, air-dried after a day in the lake. His brown eyes lock with hers, and he jerks his head toward the dock with a grin. “Race you.”

Mat Barzal.

A name that holds the burden of promise. He’s going to be drafted in a few years, to the Show—and he’s going to be good. Not I’m just saying that because he’s my friend and I’m supposed to say that—no, he’s going to be good, potentially even great.

Here, though, he’s just Mat. He feels weird about the weight his name is starting to hold, not really knowing what to do with the slight level of fame. He’s made a vow to himself that whatever happens, he won’t let it get to him, won’t let it change the fabric of who he is—this guy, right here, feeling the warm breeze through his hair as sprints down the wooden dock, two smaller feet pattering rapidly behind him.

“You first,” he grins, gesturing toward the ladder.

“What if there’s a big monster waiting right there and it eats me?”

“I’ll jump in and save you,” he says, like there’s no hesitation. He glances down to double check that there is no actual sign of danger. Aurora doesn’t notice, her eyes also on the dark water, illuminated only slightly by the brightness of the moon.

“You promise?”

“I promise.” The way he says it is so sure that it actually comforts her for a split second, enough time for her confidence to reach the appropriate level to jump in with a splash.

Her body is immersed in cold for the briefest of seconds before she’s enveloped in warmth. The splash next to her tells her that Mat has joined her beneath the water. He rises to the surface a few moments later, letting out a scoff as he shakes out his hair.

“Shit. You like this?” he asks, swimming out toward the trampoline floating a few meters away.

“It’s nice!” she says, following him. “Refreshing.”

“It’s cold.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a big macho hockey player?”

He ignores her with a roll of his eyes, rising back out of the water to climb the ladder to the trampoline. Aurora opts to swim around a while longer, feeling the weight of the water gliding over her skin. It’s nice, heavenly even, how the water makes her weightless.

When she approaches the trampoline, the blast of cool air against her wet skin makes her shiver, goosebumps instantly covering her body. Mat glances at her, sees the way her arms have wrapped around herself in an attempt to warm herself. He extends an arm, his own skin almost dry. “C’mere.”

His arm curls around her frame, warmth of him already heating her skin. He’s not sure if it’s his heart or hers that he can feel beating—maybe it’s both, beating in a steady, sure rhythm next to one another.

Aurora’s toes nudge his, the gesture comfortable and affectionate; a silent thank you.

June 2018 – Vancouver, British Columbia

By all accounts, it’s a normal Thursday evening in June; Aurora’s housemates are getting ready to go out to the bar—there are plugged-in curling irons, loose cans of hairspray, scattered makeup brushes all over the counter alongside an assortment of cups in varying stages of empty. A half-full fifth of Smirnoff is there too, the cap misplaced somewhere.

On any other occasion, Aurora would be right there with them, blasting Taylor Swift and chattering about if Brad will finally make a move on Carley. Tonight, though, she’s opted out in favor of spending the night on the couch in her favorite sweatpants. Just not feeling a bar tonight, she’d said.

The silence when the door finally closes behind her friends is almost deafening; she hadn’t realized how loud it was in the chaos of the pre-night-out ritual. With a contented sigh, Aurora plops down on the couch and tugs a blanket over her legs, opening Netflix and starting an episode of New Girl.

She's part way through her second episode and her first glass of wine when she gets the text.

[Mat:] what’s the play tn

Mat. Of course. He’s home for the summer now, back after his first year in Long Island, and recently returned from winning the Calder trophy. Aurora still had a hard time connecting that this Mat, the one that she’s known since they were 12, the one who she grew up hearing make stupid dick jokes with his friends, is the same one that just won Rookie of the Year in the National Hockey League.

Instead of typing out a message, Aurora snaps a photo of the wine glass in her hand and blanket in her lap with the TV in the background. It doesn’t take long for the response bubble to pop back up, and soon enough the whoosh of an incoming text sounds.

[Mat:] want some company?

Aurora’s heart freezes in her chest. She hasn’t spent any time alone with him since that sorority formal her sophomore year, the one she bribed him to attend with her so she wasn’t the only girl without a date. It was platonic—that didn’t even need to be discussed—and it had been nice to have a familiar figure by her side; it didn’t hurt that he was starting to make a name for himself in the hockey world as a top draft pick headed for the NHL.

What started as a simple, friendly night ended with her leg wrapped around his waist, leaning against the bathroom door of the venue, moaning his name. She didn’t know how they ended up there, but what she did know was that it was passionate, mind-boggling, life-altering sex.

At least, to her it was. He’d never mentioned it since.

At first, it lingered on the tip of her tongue every time he was around, waiting to be blurted out when the sinking confusion became too much to bear. But one month, two months, three months passed, with no recognition or acknowledgement that anything happened between them.

For a while, she began to believe that she’d dreamt it; that her mind conjured the hottest, dizziest, most viscerally real dream possible. But then she’d see his eyes flick to hers during the sex scene in a movie and feel the spark of electricity when his hand would brush hers. Just briefly, but enough for her to confirm that no, she didn’t imagine it all.

Needless to say, Aurora can’t help the rising suspicion at the seemingly random text. Surely, he couldn’t be thinking about one night years ago when he had the pick of any girl he wanted at his fingertips.

Before she can stop herself, she's typing ‘bring chocolate’ and soon, she hears her front door open. There’s a shuffle, the sound of shoes being shrugged off, before that handsome face is rounding the corner. His eyes land on her in an instant, a predatory gaze simmering behind an unassuming smile. In his hand is a plastic bag from which he fishes out a pack of peanut M&M’s, tossing them at her.

Aurora squeals, eagerly tearing open the packet and immediately tossing three into her mouth. After an expectant eyebrow raise from him, she heaves herself off the couch with a dramatic sigh and runs the short distance to him before launching into his arms.

“Thank you, Matty,” she says, voice muffled by the black Acme sweatshirt he’s wearing. He’s warm. And big—bigger than he was before he left for New York. “And congratulations.”

He hums a response, following her as she resumes her spot, this time making room for him beside her. “You didn’t want to go out tonight? Celebrate that enormous trophy?”

Mat shrugs, placing her feet in his lap and securing the blanket over both. “Could take it or leave it. Can’t leave you to be home alone and bored.”

She rolls her eyes and nudges his leg with her foot. “Shut up. You didn’t have to come over.”

“Honestly, I need a break after that media circus,” he confesses. “So much press, so many questions, so many pictures. It’s exhausting.”

Aurora nods understandingly, though she can only imagine being put on public display the way he is day in and day out, the attention only heightened now that he’s won the Calder. She’s seen the pictures, the articles, all of the buzz, feeling a slight tinge of jealousy—not of him, but that she has to share him with the rest of the world now.

Mat settles in, and casual conversation filters in amidst the episode, pausing at moments to hear the dialogue before another one of them is adding commentary or snorting at someone’s Instagram story. It’s so casual, so normal, his place beside her on the couch; like finally finding that one pivotal puzzle piece she’s been looking for for hours. He’s calm, relaxed, and once again she begins to wonder if she’s been creating something out of nothing this entire time. If the flood of nerves in her chest is an overreaction.

“You still seeing that frat guy? Tim, or whatever his name is?”

The question comes out of nowhere. Aurora can’t help but wonder if she detects a hint of jealousy.

“Was never really seeing him,” she replies, leaving a heavy pause, enough time for him to fill in the blanks. It’s true, but maybe she chose her words intentionally, curious to see if that lilt in his tone really was jealousy.

He doesn’t react much outside of a nod and an over-engineered nice, but she sees the very slight tick in his jaw. She resists the urge to roll her eyes, instead supplying, “You really gonna give me shit, Mr. Hot-Shot-NHL rookie?”

“Listen,” he grins, “it’s not my fault there’s a million single girls in New York.”

This time, Aurora does roll her eyes, if only to hide the sting she feels deep in her chest. She wouldn’t say she has feelings for Mat Barzal, but—well, it’s complicated. It’s always been there, buried deep beneath the surface, veiled as fond affection for a friend who’s grown by her side since they were 12.

“But none of them are as pretty as you.”

Aurora has to laugh, can’t help but laugh, rather than feel the discomfort that sinks in when she processes what he said. He’s always like this—these seemingly harmless, flirty comments—but those are the ones that keep his hooks latched into her, keeping her coming back for more, dangling by a single thread of hope.

“Don’t be a dick.”

“M’not. You’re so pretty it hurts.”

She moves to kick him—playfully, mostly—but his hand catches her foot in an instant. Before she has a chance to protest, barely processing the evil grin that hatches on his face, he’s tickling her arch. Aurora shrieks, legs flailing in protest, doing her best to scramble out of his grasp. Mat’s laugh is mirthful as his strong arms easily overpower her, hands moving to her hips to pin her to the couch.

“You’re gonna—” he pauses to wrestle her down, “—hurt yourself.”

“Fuck off,” she shouts playfully, hands shoving wildly at his hands in a weak attempt to stop him from tickling at her sides. “I—I hate you!”

In a flash, Aurora finds her arms pinned above her head, large hands pressed into her wrists. She shrieks again, but the laughter dies in her throat when she realizes he’s paused, hovering over her. Her legs stop their thrashing, breath caught in her throat while her heart thumps in her chest. She isn’t sure how long they sit like that, frozen in time, staring at one another; she wonders if he’s thinking the same thing she is, flashing back to the night spent inside the dimly lit bar bathroom.

And then he’s kissing her, desperate, his open mouth pressed against hers. It consumes her, the feeling of his lips, in a way that makes her wonder how she’s survived the last two years without his touch. The thought of stopping is unthinkable, unfathomable, unbearable.

Mat’s hand slides down her arm to cup her jaw, thumb brushing against her cheekbone while his tongue finds hers. With her now free hand, Aurora instinctively moves to run her fingers through his hair, soft and smooth. It’s long, long enough that she can wrap the locks around her knuckles, offering a firm hold that has him exhaling lowly against her mouth.

With just the simplest, subtlest move, Aurora’s flipped the switch inside of Mat that transforms him from doting, passionate lover to desperate and unrestrained. His lips pivot to nip at the base of her jaw, offering a subtle bite on his way down to her neck.

She can hear his heavy breath, feels it hot against her skin. His palm draws warmth up her side, rucking up her t-shirt to expose her bare stomach before his hand dives beneath the hem of the cotton to press flat against her ribcage. It’s shameful how quickly Mat can render her little more than a lolling, whimpering mess, back arched eagerly to chase his touch; she wants to kick herself for giving in so easily.

His hands move in tandem with his mouth, caressing, kneading, aiding her slow descent into madness. When he tugs the cotton over her head, grateful there’s no bra impeding his view, Mat swoops down to her breasts like a starving man getting his first taste of food; with a groan, his tongue swipes over a pebbled nipple.

Aurora’s afraid to say his name, afraid that if she calls attention to the moment, he’ll snap out of it and stop.

And she can’t have that.

Hands roam, chased by hot breath and wet kisses, until she’s all but naked on her living room couch, as if she lives alone and doesn’t have roommates that could come home at any given moment.

He doesn’t even bother to take her panties off, instead ripping them to the side and wetting his tip with her slick, teasing her folds for just a moment.

Mat pauses at her entrance, breath heavy in his chest. His eyes trail up to hers, and Aurora’s heartbeat ticks, afraid he’s going to change his mind right now, when she needs him more than she’s ever needed anything in her life.

And then his eyes slink over her body with a smirk, admiring her breasts, her curves, the way her legs have wrapped around his hips—when did that happen? Mat’s dick twitches when he realizes he has nowhere to go but inside the dripping wet cunt in front of him, perfect and tempting and waiting to be filled up. He lets the low groan rumble in his chest while his lips return to the spot he sucked into her neck.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty like this,” he murmurs against her skin. “Always think of you like this.”

Mat waits for only a moment, so brief that it flits by almost unnoticed, before he’s pushing in with a low groan. Aurora gasps at the sensation, infinitely better than everything her imagination conjures when her fingers slip between her thighs at night. Nothing replicates the feeling of him buried to the hilt inside her wet heat.

“How long you been thinkin’ ‘bout this, sweetheart?” he rasps once he grows accustomed to the way she squeezes him. “Been thinkin’ ‘bout you for a long time.”

Aurora’s fingers settle into the dip of his shoulders, breasts pressed into his chest. She tries to answer, but all that comes out is a moan. How can he expect her to speak when his hips are punching into her like they’re getting paid for it?

He’s smug at the way he’s rendered her speechless, entranced by the way she feels. Sensing he might not make it long, Mat focuses on his rhythm, finding the one that has her nails scratching down his back so he’ll have a perfect reminder of her wrapped around his dick.

When her moans escalate, he brings a hand between their bodies, watching the way her eyes flutter shut when he rubs at her clit. “Bein’ so good and so pretty for me, ‘Ror. Wanna feel you squeezin’ me while you come.”

She likes when he talks, judging by the way her breath hitches and her cunt tightens, so he keeps talking, muttering pretty, filthy somethings in her ear while he circles her clit. Before long, his whispers are covered by the sound of her crying out his name—she sounds the same as she did two years ago, sweeter this time now that he knows what she feels like when she comes.

Later, when he slips out into the night, Aurora presses her fingers against the hickey on her neck, memorizing the feeling of his lips against her skin.

July 2019 - Vancouver, British Columbia

Aurora takes a seat in the chiavari chair beside Gina, offering Dante a wave. A string quartet plays softly, ushering in wedding guests taking their seats before the ceremony. She’s there more out of obligation to the Fabbros, the bride a cousin of theirs that she’d grown up with, too.

Mat sidles in far too close to the start of the ceremony, plopping himself into the seat next to Aurora. He bumps shoulders with her, offering a grin when she mouths “hi” as the precessional begins.

The ceremony is sweet, the food is excellent, and Aurora can’t help but tear up at the best man’s speech during dinner. Afterwards, everyone is on the dance floor, moving and grooving to a Bruno Mars mashup.

Everyone except two people.

Outside of the tent, Mat and Aurora are sitting on a bench, watching the sunset. Not feeling this song, Mat had murmured to her before jerking his head toward the tent opening, and who was she to say no to accompanying her friend to take in a Vancouver sunset?

“You think you’ll do all this?” The question is abrupt but curious, like his mind had been wandering and he blurted it out as soon as it appeared in his head.

“What? A wedding?”

He nods, gesturing around. “Yeah. You know, the flowers, the fuckin’… doilies, and shit.”

Aurora’s eyebrow raises as she hides a smile. “Do you even know what a doily is?”

“No, but it feels like something that would be here,” he says with a shrug. Dante’s loud laughter echoes from inside, piercing the quiet reprieve from the music.

A few moments pass, the silence comfortable. “Yeah, I think I’d like to get married someday. Do the whole thing. No doilies, though.”

Mat snorts, nudging her knee with his. “Wonder what the guy's gonna be like.”

Aurora considers for a moment. In the few minutes they’ve been outside, the sun has slipped beneath the horizon, its dim, fading light still splaying out from behind the trees. Dusk looks good on him, she thinks. “He’s gonna get me flowers. And take care of me when I’m drunk. And he’s gonna be really, really good looking.”

Mat hums, impressed. “Damn. Sounds like a catch.”

“Duh. I’m a catch,” she says, to which Mat nods in agreement. “How about you?”

“She’s gonna have a great rack,” he replies, grinning so wide he almost ruins the delivery of the joke before he’s doubling over. Aurora snorts but joins him in laughter with a playful smack to the shoulder.

Inside the tent, the DJ makes some announcement that Aurora only half hears—something about grabbing a loved one. Mat extends a hand, smiles wide, and she ignores the thump of her chest as she slips her fingers against his palm.

The anticipation pangs in her chest as he leads her to the dance floor. She feels a sliver of apprehension as he turns to face her, placing his hands respectfully on her waist. Instantly, there’s a flash of the night on the couch, of his lips against her skin; if he’s thinking about it, too, he doesn’t show any outward indication.

Any trace of discomfort dissipates once she gives in to his gravitational pull, hands lacing together behind his neck. He’s strong, sturdy, solid—the way he’s always been, ever-present and a constant in her life since she was 12. His eyes are warm, enveloping Aurora in his gaze until she forgets that there’s anyone else around.

They sway through the remainder of the song, and when notes begin to slow, she finds herself wishing it would last longer. Fortunately, almost like the DJ is privy to her thoughts, the beat picks up, slow song melding into something more upbeat. Mat blinks, the bubble surrounding them popping unceremoniously. He can’t bring himself to let Aurora go, not when she feels so right in his arms.

With a dramatic pull, Mat spins her around, hand supporting her back as he dips her backwards. Aurora squeals, hand clutching onto his as her footing almost loses balance. Laughter bubbles out of her throat as Mat pulls her back upright, his eyes glowing with amusement. Suddenly, he’s looking to do anything to keep hearing that sound.

It takes a truly revolting love song for them to finally leave the dance floor, beelining toward the bar in search of liquid refreshment and a break. The rest of the evening is easy, full of elation and conviviality, the kind of night that makes your cup overflow and runneth over.

That night, when Aurora slips into bed tipsy at 2AM with a contented sigh, she falls asleep dreaming of brown eyes and a crooked smile.

December 2022 – New York, New York

When Mat saw the text informing him that Aurora had a job interview for a Software Engineering Lead at TekStack in New York, he offered up his spare bedroom before she could even tell him the date. It would be a waste of money to stay at a hotel when he had an apartment he barely used, he said, and she could make a long weekend out of it and he’d show her around Long Island.

The grin on Mat’s face grows the instant he sees her, a gray coat draped over her arm as she wheels her carry-on behind her. He opens his arms and she falls into them, the way she has a hundred times. “Welcome to New York.”

“—it’s been waiting for you!”

“Set you up for that on purpose,” he says, offering to take her bag. “You hungry?”

“Starving,” she replies. “But I really want to get the airplane off me first. Maybe takeout for tonight?”

Mat smiles. “Say no more. I know exactly the place.”

A few hours later, Aurora is seated at Mat’s counter, a spread of styrofoam across the quartz. Her suit is hanging in a garment bag on the back of the door to the guest bedroom, waiting to be pressed before her interview. It’s so familiar, the fondness, the sense of comfort, the shared laughter over a plate—or several—of food, but it’s no longer Dante’s family’s lakehouse or the Barzal family’s finished basement. This time, it’s Mat’s fancy apartment in Garden City, the rent alone more than what Aurora makes in a month.

But it’s still the same Mat sitting across from her. Same crooked smile, same easy laughter, same silly, unabashed personality. Admittedly, she was anxious wondering about how things would be; they’d hung out plenty over the summer, kept in touch via the group chat, but their one-on-one time had been limited the last few years.

Despite the apprehension, Aurora is surprised at how quickly they shake off the rust, barely needing any recoil time before it feels like old times. Of course, the camaraderie and pleasantries aren’t nearly enough to build up an immunity to his gray Lululemon sweatpants or the peek of his sculpted Adonis belt when he raises his arms in a lazy stretch. She wasn’t sure how she’d feel when she saw him, but she reluctantly accepts the steady beat of her heart in her chest that tells her her crush is, in fact, still holding strong.

They stay up chatting far longer than Mat anticipated, bedtime delayed even further when he offers to help her prepare for her interview, shrugging with a, I’m not tired anyway—anything to spend just a little more time with her. He Googles ‘Top Interview Questions’ and spends over an hour posing them to her, letting her work through how she’d answer each. Admittedly, he had never really had much practice in the way of a job interview outside of the pre-draft conversations he’d had with various NHL GM’s, but he had more than enough experience at preparing for an onslaught of questions—and how to shake off the nerves beforehand.

“The thing I’ve learned most is to be concise,” he says, thinking back to when he first did NHL-mandated media training. “Don’t be afraid to take a few seconds after the question to think through what you want to say. That helps so you don’t ramble.”

“Don’t ramble. Got it.”

“And listen to some boss bitch music that hypes you up on your way in. It makes a difference. I promise.”

Aurora raises an eyebrow. “I’m gonna need to know what type of ‘boss bitch’ music you’re listening to pre-game, Barzal.”

“Megan Thee Stallion is my top preference,” he says with a grin, “but if you tell anyone that, I’ll deny it and say Drake.”

“Any last expert advice for me?”

“Get a good night’s sleep,” he says, then glances at his phone at the mention of the time. “Which means we’re about two hours behind schedule. Let’s get you to bed.”

Mat offers to carry her bag to the guest bedroom—decorated straight out of a West Elm catalog—and Aurora thanks him before bidding him good night. After changing into her pajamas, she quickly shakes off the urge to pad down the hallway and slip into Mat’s bed with him, reminding herself that that isn’t why she’s here.

Instead, she settles into the soft sheets, feeling herself slipping right back into the old, familiar flutter in her chest.

—

Serendipitously, the scheduling worked out perfectly: the interview was Friday at 1PM, and the Islanders hosted the Predators on Friday night at 7PM, which meant Dante would be in New York and around for post-game dinner, drinks, and a little mid-season reunion for the trio of friends. Aurora shook away the feeling that fate was somehow intervening.

Friday morning arrives, and Mat has morning skate, so he wishes her good luck with a tight hug before he shoves a protein bar in his mouth on his way out the door. For good measure, he sends a string of emojis (💪👩🏽‍💼✅💰) once he arrives at the rink, hoping they’ll give her an extra boost of confidence.

Practice is relatively easy, more of the opportunity to move his body and run through some plays—nothing intense, preserving energy for the actual game. He’s thankful for a pretty painless practice as his mind continually floats to Aurora, wondering how her interview went. Mat isn’t quite sure why he feels so invested in her landing this role until he realizes that if she gets it, she’ll be moving to New York.

“Barzy, you trying to go out after the game?” Oliver asks across the locker room. Mat’s tugging on a pair of sweatpants, fresh from his post-practice shower.

“He can’t,” Matt pipes in with a lopsided grin. “His girl is here.”

Mat groans, pressing a hand to his face as he points a middle finger in Marty’s direction. Next thing he knows, the chirps and wolf whistles fill the room and he feels Pierre aggressively nudge his shoulder.

“A girl?”

“Yeah, the hot brunette. Total smokeshow,” Casey fills in for him.

“Woof woof, Barzy!”

“Get it, Matty B!”

“Fuck off,” Mat huffs, a dismissive hand directed at no one in particular. “She’s not my… girl.”

“She stayin’ at your place?” Dobson asks. “Gonna be at the game tonight?”

Mat nods, earning another chorus of whistles. He rolls his eyes as he tosses his gloves and practice jersey in the bin, ignoring the no pre-game sex jokes (“Can’t play 3 periods if you’ve already played one in the sheets”).

“If she’s not your girl, I’m definitely gonna make a move, then.”

“Fuck off, Dobber.”

—

Aurora arrives home from the interview to find a jersey folded on the bed, along with a handwritten note–thought you might want to have something to rep the home team. She sends back a text to Mat to thank him and respond to his inquiry about the interview before setting off to change and make her way to UBS.

The game is disappointing, if you’re an Islanders fan. But while Aurora is sporting the blue and orange jersey, she’s waiting excitedly for a Nashville Predator to meet her in the designated area Mat directed her to.

When he rounds the corner, hair still wet from his shower, she runs up to him and leaps into his arms. Dante grins as he embraces her in a tight hug. “Feel stupid now for wearing the wrong colors tonight, huh?”

“I have to support my host,” she says with an eye roll.

The host in question appears as if he’s been summoned, moving to hug his old friend, but not before his eyes drag over the 13 on Aurora’s arm. The three of them together just feels right, the dynamic shifted—but complete.

Once they’ve been seated at a high top in a bar in Rockville Centre, Dante turns to Aurora. “‘Ror, how was the interview?”

“It went great,” she grins, accepting the fist bump Dante offers her. “I aced the coding exercise.”

“You’re such a badass. I picture you like one of those hackers in the movies.”

Aurora snorts, shaking her head. She thanks the waiter who places her drink in front of her. “It’s not really like that, but thanks.”

Conversation flows easily amongst the trio–only one comment from Dante razzing Mat for the 4-1 loss–and eventually the food arrives, along with another round of drinks.

“So… you really gonna join us and become a Yank?” Dante probes over his meal.

“To be honest, I don’t even know if I’d accept it,” she says quietly. Mat watches the way her lip disappears between her teeth as she contemplates; he doesn’t envy the gargantuan decision that lies ahead of her. “It’s a big move to make.”

As dense as he knows he can sometimes be, Mat recognizes this as a pivotal opportunity for him to share his own experience moving across the continent. He doesn’t have much in the way of advice, the distance something he just grew accustomed to in time, but he knows what it’s like; feeling the divide between him and the rest of his life like a bruise that won’t quite heal, the precious few-hour window where phone calls and texts make 5,000 kilometers feel like 10.

In so many words, he tells her so, aided by Dante’s supporting murmurs in a rare serious moment. Aurora absorbs it, if nothing else, comforted by the fact that they understand—kind of. It’s a little different moving cross-continent when you’re going to make millions of dollars, but money certainly doesn’t make the distance less of a burden to carry.

“FaceTime is your best friend,” Dante says, and Mat nods in agreement.

“Oh, is that why I get one FaceTime from you every two months?” she sticks her tongue out at Dante. Mat makes a mental note to FaceTime her more often. If she moves to New York, he won’t have to.

“No, that’s ‘cause you’re not my best friend,” Dante jokes, and Aurora scoffs playfully, eyes rolled in annoyance.

Sensing the end of the semi-serious moment, Mat stands up. “Gotta rock a piss.”

“Charming, Barz.”

Dante watches Mat’s retreating figure, eyeing the brown locks until they disappear down the hallway toward the restrooms. His gaze moves to Aurora’s, lowering his head conspiratorially. “Is something happening?”

“What are you talking about?”

“You two. You seem… different.”

Aurora’s eyebrows raise. “Different how?”

“Just… different,” Dante shrugs, then takes another swig of his drink. “It’s not like everyone doesn’t know you’ve been in love with each other forever.”

Jaw dropping in shock, Aurora feels her face suddenly get very hot. “That’s not true!”

“Oh, I didn’t realize we were still in denial,” he says, feigning self-defense and fighting a smile. “My bad. I’ll go back to trying to ignore the way you googly eyes each other.”

“I do not make googly eyes at him!”

“Man, ‘Ror, that acceptance is really buried deep down in there, huh?” Dante grins, dodging the french fry she launches in his direction. Then, he’s back to serious—kind of. “I know it’s a big leap to take when you’ve been friends for so long, but you haven’t been subjected to seeing the way you look at each other. I wish you’d just make out already. It’s disgusting.”

Aurora doesn’t have the heart to tell him they’ve already done far more than make out—multiple times—and part of her is relieved that Mat never divulged that information to his best friend despite every opportunity to. This way, it’s their little secret, something for just the two of them to have.

Mat’s return effectively ends the conversation. They pay their tabs—Aurora ignores Dante’s pointed look when Mat picks hers up without a word—and make their way to the next bar.

Several hours and far too many Palomas later, Mat unlocks the door to his apartment. He struggles slightly under the stumbling weight of Aurora, who’s latched onto him as she drunkenly giggles. He’s not much better off, but the Uber ride sobered him up enough to think to order DoorDash, conveniently arriving a few minutes after they get in the door.

Coaxing her to eat is a bit of a struggle, but he finally manages to get her into a barstool, munching contentedly on chicken tenders.

“C’mon, ‘Ror,” he murmurs once he sees she isn’t going to finish the third tender. He wraps an arm around her waist, helping her out of the seat to stand her up. “Let’s get you to bed, yeah?”

“Carry me!”

Without any additional warning, she’s leaping into his arms. Mat lets out an oof but manages to secure her in his arms as he carries her to the guest bedroom. When he places her on the mattress, her legs don’t untangle from his waist, and Mat feels the near instant pulse in his groin. Aurora’s eyes are closed, but her hips move, subtly, and he allows himself to revel in the feeling of her brushing against him. It doesn’t take long for his dick to become hard as steel, aided massively by the soft, sleepy whimpers that leave Aurora’s throat.

“Matty,” she whispers, hands seeking out the dips in his biceps.

Mat wants nothing more than to throw caution to the wind and devour her like he’s been aching to from the moment he saw a glimpse of her in a towel coming out of the shower this morning. He’s got just enough booze in his system to cloud his judgment, hand trailing up her side and savoring the warmth of her body against his palm. His dick twitches in his pants when he glides a hand over Aurora’s breast, yearning to tug the cups of that stupidly sexy corset down to repeat his fantasy.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, he summons every single ounce of self-restraint left in his body and tears himself away from her tempting frame. Much to his chagrin, Aurora lets out the most devastating, disappointed mewl and Mat swears he can feel his heart (and dick) shatter at the sound.

“‘Ror,” he whispers. “We can’t.”

“Why not? S’not like we’ve never… done it before,” she slurs, reaching to run her hands across his pecs. He indulges in the feeling for just a brief moment, his resolve fleeting with every second.

“Not like this.”

“Y-you—” she hiccups, then frowns when he gently takes her hands off of him, “—you don’t… want me.”

“No,” Mat says quickly. He’s pretty sure she won’t remember in the morning, but if she does, he wants her to remember this. “I do. But I don’t want it to be like this.”

“Only wore this so you’d take it off,” she murmurs, and Mat groans, the devil on his shoulder whispering very strong reasons why he should give into temptation.

Ultimately, the good guy in him wins the battle, ignoring the throbbing of his dick when he helps Aurora to shimmy off her skintight leather pants. He does his best to avoid staring at the flimsy scrap of fabric between her thighs and pretends not to notice how little it covers. Her body is almost entirely dead weight as he tries to figure out how to remove her corset, eventually tugging it over her head; her breasts fall free, and he chokes on his own spit as he desperately looks around for something to cover her with.

Dashing to his room, he grabs a t-shirt—only a little bit intentionally selecting an Islanders tee in order to see her wearing his colors again; on his way back, he pours a glass of water and grabs a bottle of Advil from the bathroom. When he returns, Aurora’s breathing is heavy and she’s lying in the same position he left her in, finally asleep.

Mat places the water on the nightstand, then notices her phone and plugs it into the charger. Gently, he slides the t-shirt over her head and maneuvers her arms through the sleeves, then situates her and tucks her in before pulling the blanket up to her chin. With a kiss on her forehead, Mat quietly steps back to return to his room, ready to palm himself off, the image of her tiny panties and her tits seared into his brain.

Just before he shuts the door, he hears a quiet whisper of his name, a soft Matty in the darkness. He pauses, waiting for her to speak again.

“Stay.”

Something in her voice makes his heart ache. He stands, frozen in place, hesitant to return to her; afraid that he won’t have the willpower to resist her if she makes a move again. Like an unruly stepchild, his dick throbs as he adjusts himself.

“Please?”

Her voice is so sweet, he can’t help himself. His feet move of their own accord, back to the bed before he’s crawling under the covers beside her. Aurora’s arm immediately wraps around his stomach, snuggling into the crook of his shoulder. As he listens to her dozing off, Mat pretends it’s the alcohol that blankets his heart with warmth and not the girl sleeping soundly in his arms.

—

Bright light wakes her first. There’s a few, beautiful seconds of peace before the throbbing begins.

Aurora groans loudly, hand flying to shield her eyes. Timidly, she stretches her legs out slowly, to avoid the wave of searing pain through her skull. She has a memory of Mat’s hands touching her, dragging their way up her body, but she can’t decide if that was real or just a dream. Judging by the empty space next to her in bed, she assumes it was a dream.

She gropes for her phone on the bedside table—thankful that she had the foresight to plug in her phone in her inebriated state—and opens Instagram. Dante’s green Close Friends story bubble is one of the first she sees. The video that lies within makes her groan: it’s Aurora, illuminated by the dim, disco lights of the bar they ended up at in Rockville Centre, making an absolute fool of herself dancing. If you can even call it dancing. It’s more like a series of unhinged, discombobulated movements that barely follow the pulse of the music playing over the speakers.

But Mat Barzal is in the background, watching her like she put the stars in the sky. His eyes are warm, and the smile on his face is soft, relaxed; a look of adoration. Of love.

[Gina:] Are you going to tell me what’s going on with you and Mat? [Gina:] Dude is looking at you like you just birthed his firstborn on Dante’s story [Gina:] Wait, he didn’t knock you up, did he?

Aurora snorts at the texts from her pseudo-sister.

[Aurora:] Funny enough, your brother asked me the same thing [Aurora:] And no, he did not knock me up [Gina:] Still waiting on the answer to my first question

Aurora is halfway through typing a message (“I’ll call you when I get home”) when she hears the front door open and close. A few seconds later, there’s a gentle knock at the door before a messy-haired Mat pokes his head in. “G’morning, sunshine.”

She groans, throwing the blanket over her head in an attempt to shield herself. “Can you stop yelling?”

He laughs, and though it’s lovely, the sound pierces her brain with a fiery stake. “So you don’t want me to tell you there’s bagels in the kitchen?”

Aurora peeks her head out from under the comforter. “Bagels, you say?”

“Bagel sandwiches,” he corrects. “Best on Long Island.”

Contemplating for a moment, Aurora glances at the glass of water on the nightstand, along with the two Advil sitting by it. He must have put them there this morning. She downs then, throws on a sweatshirt, and trudges into the kitchen behind Mat.

Aurora is convinced the bagel sandwiches have magic in them, reinvigorating her brain and hitting just the right spot. The two of them chew in silence for a while, Mat choosing to give her a few minutes to come back to life.

When he senses the medication might have kicked in, he speaks, slowly. He isn’t sure why he’s feeling so nervous. “Are you sure you have to go back today?”

She laughs and nods. “Sadly, I do have to get back to my actual job that I haven’t quit yet.”

“Just saying, you can come and be my roommate–free of charge. You just gotta do the dishes and help with a little laundry.”

Aurora’s eyebrow raises, taking a long sip of the hot mug of coffee he’d placed in front of her ten minutes ago. “So you want a live-in maid?”

“Well, when you say it like that…” Mat trails off with a laugh. “Really though. When are you supposed to hear back?”

“They just said in a couple weeks,” she shrugs. Only a few more weeks before life could change forever.

Something in their goodbye is different; a little bit timid, maybe even hesitant, but neither call it to attention. Mat gives her a squeeze in the departures lane, wishing her a safe flight, and Aurora promises to keep him updated on the job.

He watches her slip between the sliding doors, watching her figure retreat until he can’t see her anymore.

January 2023 — Vancouver, British Columbia

Aurora huffs, blowing the hair out of her eyes as she concentrates on her phone in her hand. She types, deletes, then re-types her message.

I got the job.

Her finger hovers over the button to send, heart pounding. She doesn’t know why she’s nervous, not exactly, but she knows there’s a lot of weight behind those four words, knows that they have the potential to change everything. For her. For him. Everything.

[Mat:] Congratulations! Told you you’d kill it. 😊

The text is followed by a gif of Buddy the Elf, and Aurora almost snorts at the stupidity of it. She takes a breath, almost… disappointed? If nothing else, she was expecting a bit more excitement, more fanfare.

Aurora presses down on the message and gives it a thumbs up.

Three hours later, she’s on the phone with Gina, gushing over the excitement of her job offer. She hasn’t even accepted it, but she’s still wistfully dreaming of how she might decorate her Manhattan apartment, anticipating the charm—among other things—of being in the greatest city in the world.

Gina senses Aurora’s hesitation before she even says anything. “But…”

“…but if I go, I’m pretty sure I’m going to get my heart broken.” She can hear Gina contemplating on the other line, probably debating how to deliver her latest blow of hard-hitting advice.

Gina’s next sentence is quiet, but confident. “You just need to talk to him, ‘Ror.”

“I know.”

Aurora’s phone buzzes, but it isn’t until she gets off the phone with Gina a few minutes later that she sees the second text appear on her screen.

[Mat:] so, we gonna do this? [Aurora:] do what?

She watches the text bubbles appear, then disappear. The seconds feel like an eternity before a FaceTime call is popping up, a photo of 17-year-old Mat with upside down sunglasses on. Sliding to answer, she’s greeted by the sight of Mat, arm resting behind his head, silver chain peeking out of the hem of his white t-shirt. His hair is ruffled, and he’s looking at the camera with a knowing smirk.

“You and me,” he says simply. It takes Aurora a few moments to realize he’s responding to her text—and a few more before she realizes what he’s saying.

“You–are you—what?”

“You know, give it the old college try.” He offers a cheeky shrug of his shoulders, a flash of his charming smile.

“Mat, are you asking me out?”

“Were you expecting a grand proposal with roses and champagne?”

She ignores his snigger, too frenzied to acknowledge his sarcastic quip. Instead, she opts to get to the real question she has burning a hole in her chest. “Where is this coming from?”

“I’ve been waiting for a chance with you since we were 15, ‘Rora. Jus’ never had one ��til right now.”

Aurora’s jaw drops, words completely absent from her brain. This was everything she’d wanted to hear for the better part of a decade, and here he is, as casual as if he was asking her to pass the salt at the dinner table.

Mat’s waiting for a response, so she shakes off the surprise and does her best to gather her composure. She isn’t sure what to feel: elated, irritated, and skeptical, and everything in between. “And you never thought to tell me you felt this way?”

He shrugs. “Jus’ did, didn’t I?”

Aurora resists the laugh at the simplicity of his Boy Brain. “Mathew Michael Paul Barzal, if you are fucking with me and this is some shit idea of a joke—”

“Why would I joke about something like that?” he says, then a glint takes over in his eyes. “I would like to be fucking you, though.”

An exasperated sigh leaves her throat, though she begrudgingly notes the way her stomach flips at his statement. “Can you not do—that—for five minutes, please? This is a lot of information to take in.”

Mat hums an apology, not really sorry. He watches the way she puts her phone down, his view now the slowly spinning ceiling fan in her apartment bedroom. He can hear the sigh, the sound of her feet padding slowly on the hardwood floor–pacing.

“I’m serious, Aurora.” He announces it out, loudly, maybe a little more formally than he expected.

Her forehead peeks over the camera, frizzy, unstyled post-shower waves falling over her face. “Fuck, Mat.”

“You could come live with me in Garden City,” he says. “Take the subway in on the days you go into work. Could set up an office for you in the den.”

“Mat, I’m not fucking moving in with you when I don’t even know what this is,” she says, exasperated, ignoring the thought he’s clearly put into it all. She hears the words he’s saying, but after almost a decade of missed connections, crushed hopes, and mixed messages, she’s hesitant to really take them to heart. It’s a defense mechanism, not willing to trust him even though she’s pretty sure he’s serious. “Do you realize how insane you sound?”

“M’not,” he says, shakes his head for emphasis. “It’s always been you, Ror.”

At that, Aurora has to sit down, the weight of the words smacking her clean in the chest. She can feel the magic, the warmth, the fuzzies enveloping her heart, ready to soar into the clouds at what he’s saying. At the same time, she’s confused, uncertain, maybe a little angry. More frustrated than mad, really, but she knows she deserves an explanation all the same.

“Why haven’t you said anything this entire time? It’s been years, Mat. I’ve loved you since we were fifteen—waiting this whole time to hear you say this, to give me any fucking clue that maybe you felt the same way.”

He looks like a puppy who has been scolded for destroying a roll of toilet paper. Then, “You think I don’t want to be with you?”

“You never gave a sign. You never even acknowledged what happened between us.”

It’s the first sign of any remorse when Mat sighs, his eyes cast down from the camera. “I—I thought it was casual. We’ve lived so far apart I just thought—”

“—thought it wasn’t worth it?”

“No,” he says quickly, looking up to meet her gaze. “I thought you wouldn’t want to do it. The distance.”

“Thought you regretted it,” she admits. Her voice is so quiet Mat barely hears it.

“Regret sleeping with the girl I’ve been in love with since I was in high school? Yeah, okay,” he snorts. “My only regret is that we haven’t been doing it all this time.”

Aurora hums, overwhelmed by his confession—if you can call it that—and the influx of feelings that have inundated her chest. What he’s saying makes sense, in a twisted, boy-math kind of way.

“What does being—” she swallows the word girlfriend like a disgusting cough syrup. “—together look like?”

“Whatever you want it to look like.”

“What do you want it to look like?”

Mat hums. He thinks, envisions what calling Aurora his girl—for real, not just when he’s getting razzed by his teammates–would look like. A picture of waking up with her in his arms, sleepy and smiling. Eating takeout on the couch, her feet in his lap, sporting one of his t-shirts while they catch up on Succession. Seeing her in the stands at UBS, wearing his number on her back. Laughter, comfort, happiness. Home.

In other words, the entire weekend he spent with her.

“Don’t say something stupid like, ‘unlimited sex’,” she adds, the dreamy smile on his face alerting her to the idea that some of his thoughts may, perhaps, be unsavory.

“Wasn’t gonna,” he replies, “but now that you mention it…”

“I’m going to hang up.”

“I’m just joking, ‘Ror. I mean, don’t get me wrong, that would be top of my list. But you gotta know that you’re way more to me than just great tits and a fat ass.”

“Mat!”

“Okay, okay, sorry,” he says, holding a hand up as if to defend himself from her scathing tone. Aurora’s eyes roll and she scoffs, though Mat swears he sees the corner of her lip turn up just slightly. “I’d… want it to look exactly like this.”

Aurora blinks, not expecting such a simple answer—not that she had any idea of what to expect out of his mouth, ever. The concept that they’re already there, minus the labels, is… overwhelming. A little bit unnerving, because everything that flicks through her mind just feels like more and more evidence that he’s right. Dante, Gina, everyone else saw it—she’d just been blind to it the whole time.

“So,” he says slowly, afraid to pop her thought bubble. “What d’you say?”

“Wish you were here and not on FaceTime,” she mumbles, embarrassed at the vulnerability that slips out.

“I’ll get a flight to Vancouver right now, if it helps.”

Aurora smiles melancholy, and it tastes bittersweet. She knows he’s serious, would be by her side as soon as humanly possible, if she asked. But she also knows his influence will only sway her in one direction, and she needs to make sure she’s making an unbiased decision.

“Ror?”

“I–I need some space, okay?”

“I’ll be here when you’re ready.”

—

The next week is a blur, a mess of emotions and running through the same scenarios in her head over and over again. Aurora sits at the countertop on FaceTime with Gina, dissecting the options for what feels like the thousandth time.

“I don’t know what he doesn’t understand about space but this sure isn’t it,” she says, glancing at the bouquet of flowers sitting in a pretty—and expensive—glass vase.

“I think it’s sweet,” Gina insists. “Besides, we all know he isn’t the smartest.”

“It feels like he’s pressuring me, Gin,” Aurora says.

Gina rolls her eyes. “So he wants to show you he cares after years of burying his feelings. Sue the guy, why don’t you?”

Dusting a crumb off of the kitchen counter, scrolling through the relocation document TekStack had sent her along with her offer, Aurora sighs. Gina’s right; other than the flowers, he’d cooled it on everything else, and she missed it—the stupid memes, the goofy texts, the random (and gross) Snapchat series of him peeing in different cities. Missed him.

“Can’t wait to visit you. Keep the sex to a minimum while I’m in the guest bedroom, ‘kay?”

“Shut up!”

February 2023 — New York, New York

Mat fidgets, wiping his hands on his sides before glancing at his watch for the 16th time in five minutes. 3:17pm. Any minute now.

When he sees her coming down the catwalk, he doesn’t think twice; his strides quicken, along with the tick of his heart, and his fingers itch in anticipation. When he reaches her, he ignores the look of surprise on her face, hands cupping her jaw and pulling her mouth to his in a kiss that takes her breath away.

“I love you,” he says breathlessly when she pulls away, an expression of pure shock on her face. “Should’ve been telling you that for years. Please, please, please be mine. For real.”

The corners of Aurora’s lips twitch before they curl into a smile, and Mat has to resist the urge to kiss her again before she can even answer.

“Thought you said you weren’t gonna do an elaborate proposal,” she says with a laugh.

“Would, if that’s what it took,” he mumbles. He knows he’s being a simp, but he’s not missing this chance now that it’s right in front of him, so close he can taste it—literally. Her chapstick lingers on his lips, subtle but enough that he knows it’s all her.

“Lucky for you, Barzy, I think an airport love confession is the perfect amount of elaborate.”

SIMILAR CONTENT

The Mystery of Love* Third Time’s the Charm* Adore You

#mat barzal fic #hockey fic #hockey imagine #nhl imagine #nhl fic #mat barzal fanfiction #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x oc #hockey fanfiction #nhl fanfiction

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solar-sunnyside-up · 5 months

Note

Autumn and winter is a RUBBISH time for my love of solarpunk to be rekindled, because so much of what I can act on is guerrilla gardening. Alas, here I am, getting back to my solarpunk roots.

Do you have any suggestions for solarpunk activities we can work on in the cold months?

God I feel for this!!! Winter always feels like such a festering time to be in love with solarpunk. Not to mention how starved we are for winter content for solarpunk and lunarpunk in general. But yeah!! Here's some ideas to do in winter!!!

Out and about:

There are a lot more social clubs in your city then you'd expect! I know 2 different community associations in my city that have social clubs that go in adult field trips (like to farms and cafes ans boardgame places!!)! And have crafting clubs! And the best part is if their in your community, it's within a decent walk of you but it's almost always walkable!

Using a library!! For anything! Everything! In my provenance we got a saying "Use it or they

Graffiti- leaving kind messages or fun stickers all over the place isn't really a weather restricted activity for the most part. I know someone who made a Playlist filled with union songs and rebellion songs and put a code for it and links to how to unionize on stickers and did that.

Adopt a stop- more cities have these then you might think! But adopt a stop programs basically let you take care of a certain bus stop and this lets you add things (like good benches, shoveling and removing ice, asking the city to add heaters, etc..) you become the advocate for that bus stop. If your city doesn't have a program like it yet you can ask your city or community to start one since it saves a bunch of money on maitance costs!

At home:

Archiving and pirating - highly recommend doing it in a physical sense if you can afford it. Bc then you can give them out as gifts!

Create!! - Sewing, sewing for friends, knitting gloves/scarfs for ppl who might need it, make art to inspire others via writing or drawing or other mediums! Gift economies require gifts after all so make some!

Learn! - learning a new skill, like canning or how to install solarpanels. Researching in general, but also keeping up to date with local politics and what you can do on the ground there. Building up knowledge is such as useful even if it doesn't feel like your doing anything.

Connect! - Shoveling neighbors walkways, or in general connecting with the ppl in your immediate surroundings! They can help you out in ways you couldn't imagine, someone didn't bake often so they gave me 15lbs of flour!! And their extra pair of snow boots, I hadn't had snow boots since I was 12 years old and it meant the world to me. The pizza I taught her daughter to make and a cheap meal for them meant the world for them. These small acts really are what tie each other together.

Plan! - plan for next year, what kind of equipment can you gather? What do you wanna accomplish next growing season? Seed swaps are also a fun thing I know ppl will do in winter as they start preserving food!

#community #sprout guide #solarpunk #activism #direct action #winter #i know reaping week just ended but i also got some stuff prepped for winter time #idk if a winter solstice event is happening yet ill.have to check but god we need more winter content #solarpunk winter #anon #besties #mail

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deanstead · 1 year

Text

Unknown Threat

Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

Requested: no

Summary: When Y/N walks in on a horrific scene in her own house, Jay is determined to find out who's responsible and keep her safe.

Square Filled: Facing Fears for #resa.3kfiestabingo

Word Count: 4.7K+

Tags/Warnings: mentions of sexual assault, explicit mentions of blood, panic attack

A/N: This is a fic no one asked for lol. Thanks to @creativepromptsforwriting for the confession prompt which got me out of a rut lol. Also, this got a stamp of approval from @sheetsonfire so im posting it, thank you bestie! Any mistakes are all mine.

JAY HALSTEAD MASTERLIST

You stretched as you climbed out of your car.

It had been a long day running around the city meeting clients and today was just one of those days when you wanted to put your feet up and not move any longer. You’d even regretted putting your make up on because that meant you had a longer shower process before you could finally stop for the night.

“You just getting in too?”

You turned around at the familiar voice, giving Jay Halstead a smile as you watched your best friend sidle up the driveway that the both of you shared, holding a pizza box in his hand.

You’d kind of known Jay all your life, even though you’d fallen out of touch somewhere in between. But by some stroke of luck, you’d found a perfect little house within your budget only to realize that your new neighbor was that friend you’d never totally gotten out of your mind.

At first, you’d been a little worried that it would be awkward, but somehow you and Jay had jumped right back into being best friends, the six years you’d spent without contact almost seeming to fade into the background so much that you’d wondered if those six years had even happened.

Jay noticed your eyes shift down to what he was carrying and smiled. “You haven’t eaten, right?”

You didn’t answer him immediately. You kind of wanted to go right to bed but the temptation of food was a little too overwhelming.

“Can I feed Luna and get into sweats? Please?” You asked, turning your eyes back towards him.

Jay let out a tinkle of a laugh. “Get comfortable. I’ll wait.”

You were quick, sliding Luna her bowl of kibble as she wagged her tail and ate, before you let her out into the back garden while you quickly washed up. As your empty stomach egged you on, you cleaned Luna up, patting her head gently with a “I’ll be back soon” before heading next door to Jay’s.

Jay looked up as you let yourself in, pushing a glass of wine towards you as you slid yourself in the seat across from him.

“Long day?” Jay asked, helping himself to a slice as you took a sip from the glass.

“Don’t even get me started.” You said in a low voice, gently putting the glass back down.

There was a small silence before Jay looked up. “The kid called me today.”

You glanced up. “Dylan?”

Jay nodded, taking another bite. “I think he’s just worried about his sister.”

You nodded quietly. “I’d love nothing more than to get enough evidence to sue that asshole out of his entire fortune and then let you throw him behind bars. But you know these things take time.”

Jay had met Dylan Stevens during one of his cases. He hadn’t even been a person of interest, just a witness that had helped point the team in the right direction. But there’d been something about this kid that made Jay take a second look.

And Jay’s hunch was proven right when it finally got too much for Dylan’s older sister and she’d finally asked for help - her mentor and boss couldn’t keep his hands to himself.

Other than the fact that Leah desperately needed this job so that she could support both herself and Dylan, her boss was getting more aggressive and other than the anger that was always eating at her, she was also getting a little scared.

Cases like this ate at you. All you wanted was to throw the dickbag to the DA but a case like this was complicated. There were repercussions for going forward with a trial, and being embroiled into a he said-she said situation wouldn’t help Leah. But you’d promised her that you’d help her as best as you could and that you’d be with her, every step of the way.

You held back from releasing a sigh. “I’m trying.”

Jay nodded, leaning forward for your hand, squeezing. “I know.”

It was about two seconds later that he realized he was actually holding your hand. Jay cleared his throat pulling his hand back and you reached for your wine glass to take a sip, both of you trying your hardest to ignore the sudden awkwardness in the air.

You stole a glance at Jay who wasn’t looking in your direction, before you looked back at the clock. While the both of you had spoken at length about the Stevens, time seemed to fly by and you were hours behind your intended sleep schedule for today.

“I should go. I have another long day tomorrow.”

Jay nodded. “Leave it, I’ll take care of this.”

You shot your best friend a grateful smile before standing.

“Let me know if you need any help?” Jay asked as he walked you towards his front door.

You turned and smiled. “You know it.”

Jay leaned forward for a hug that felt a little more awkward than normal before you smiled and slipped out the door, shoving your feelings for Jay Halstead back into the small secret box tucked away in your heart.

The next few days passed in a blur as you threw all your efforts into finding some form of evidence for Leah. So when you arrived at your driveway tonight, you were wiped. You hadn’t even dared to drive home, leaving your car in your regular parking lot and taking a cab from the front of your office building. You figured you could see if Jay could drop you off the next morning or you’d just call a cab again.

The fact that your door wasn’t locked or closed properly only registered after you’d stepped inside and you froze.

The moonlight streaming in through the windows illuminated the darkened interior of your house, where everything seemed to be turned upside down.

Your eyes raked the scene in front of you, where it looked like a tornado had literally ripped through your house and you took another step forward until you froze again.

The tip of the flats you had on grazed the edge of what you were now looking down at - you could see the dark color of red even with just the sliver of moonlight, the viscous pool right at your feet that could only be blood like something right out of a horror show.

You could hear your ears start ringing, feel your breathing pick up, and somewhere in the trenches of your mind, the horrific memories that you’d tried so hard to pack away seemed to be spilling out, starting with the scream of a woman right in your mind.

And then a hand slid over your eyes, interrupting the hold that the pool of blood seemed to have on you for just a second, even though your lungs still felt like they were constricting. At the same time, an arm went around your shoulders.

The rational part of your brain was screaming at you to move but you seemed to be literally frozen, until you heard his voice. “It’s me. Keep your eyes closed.”

Your heart felt like it was pounding in your head and closing your eyes only made it harder to breathe because now the traumatic memories were playing like a reel in your head, as if it was happening in front of you all over again.

You felt Jay turn you around now. “Y/N, it’s okay.”

But it wasn’t. The memory seemed to have taken a hold on you, even though you could hear Jay’s voice, feel his warm hands on your shoulder.

“Y/N!”

Your eyes snapped back open.

“Breathe. Just look at me and breathe.” Jay said, his voice calm.

You took a short breath and Jay nodded. “Alright, just focus on me, okay?”

Jay studied you as he stood close to you, watching the expressions flash across your face. You’d started having panic attacks back when the both of you were still in school, after you’d walked in to your mother lying in a pool of her own blood. So this wasn’t the first time that Jay had been here for one of your panic attacks, far from it. Even so, you hadn’t had one since you and Jay had reconnected.

Your body shook a little and Jay reached forward and swept you into his arms, your breaths so shallow that it almost sounded like you were gasping for air.

“Just focus on me, alright?” Jay said quietly. You trained your eyes on him and nodded, looping your arms towards the back of his neck for balance before he turned heel and headed out your door and towards his place.

As gently as he could, Jay lowered you onto his couch now, his eyes not missing the beads of sweat that lined your forehead.

Your arms didn’t move from where they were locked around Jay’s neck, even though you felt your body make contact with Jay’s couch.

“Y/N, it’s okay. Shh, I got you.” Jay whispered, not trying to pull away but instead leaning in further to gather you deeper into his arms.

The action seemed to calm you, even just slightly, as your breathing regulated. Before it hit you again.

“Jay… Luna…”

Jay pulled back gently to look at you, nodding his head. “Will has her. He came to get her for the vet appointment this morning, remember?”

You nodded now, slightly calmer, your arms falling gently to your sides.

Jay cast another worried glance at you, but pulled a blanket over your legs. “I’ll be right back.”

Reflexively, your hand shot out, grabbing his. “Jay.”

“I’ll take care of it, alright? Try to get some rest. I’ll be right back.”

You gently let go of Jay’s hand and nodded. Jay gave you a small smile and after a small hesitation, leaned down and pressed his lips to the top of your head, before he headed out the way he’d come as if he hadn’t noticed your surprise at the action.

“Jay, what happened?”

Jay glanced up as his older brother headed up towards him, Luna by his heel and shook his head. “She’s on my couch. Can you just check her out then put her in my bed and give her something to sleep it off.”

On any other occasion, Will wouldn’t have let Jay get away with a “put her in my bed” without some teasing or a raised eyebrow but his eyes swept across the police cars and crime scene vans before he nodded. “Luna’s gonna be in your place for a while then I guess?"

Jay just nodded. “Can you stay with Y/N?”

Will nodded, raising the bag he had in his hand. “I came prepared.”

Jay nodded his thanks, his eyes resting on his own house before he turned back around to your place and flipped a switch in his head to focus, heading towards Voight who’d just arrived.

Voight nodded at Jay. “We swept the place. The lock has obvious signs of being jimmied and they ransacked the place. There’s a pool of blood in there so the crime lab will take it back for testing but there’s no sign of where the blood came from. I think whoever did this brought it with them.”

Voight nodded quietly as Jay spoke before he looked back at his senior detective again like he was waiting for an explanation. “Sarge, she’s… she’s a good friend of mine. And it could be linked to a case we were working.”

Before either of them could say more, Hailey jogged right up towards them, glancing at her partner before she started speaking. “We’re pulling cam footage, and the crime scene guys have gone over the house twice. We’ve gotten all we can from the scene.”

Voight looked back at Jay. “Talk to her and see if there’s anything helpful she can provide for us. We’ll see you at the district tomorrow.”

Jay glanced up, knowing that Voight was giving him the night to look in on you and make sure you were okay.

Hailey nodded. “We got this, Jay.”

Jay nodded his thanks with a small smile before he turned and left, his eyes flicking towards your house just once more before entering his own place to check on you.

Will was sitting on the couch when Jay walked in, Luna curled up on the floor at his feet.

Luna got to her feet as Jay walked in, wagging her tail as she greeted him and Jay bent down to pat Luna gently on the head like a habit, even though he was distracted.

Will glanced at his brother. “I gave her something to help her sleep but you should check on her.”

Jay nodded quietly. “Thanks.”

Will smiled. “I’m gonna crash. If you need me…”

Jay nodded, reaching out to flip off the main light in the hall for his brother. “Yeah, thanks Will.”

Quietly, Jay headed up towards his room, where there was just a small dim light still on. Your eyes were closed as you lay curled up in his sheets and Jay lowered himself quietly towards the floor as he reached out and pushed a section of hair off your face, his worried eyes grazing over you.

Your eyes fluttered open and Jay registered a sliver of alarm before you recognized him and he smiled, reaching down for your hand to squeeze. “You’re okay.”

You smiled. “Sorry about this.” You whispered, your voice low.

Jay shook his head with a smile, raising his hand to stroke the top of your head. “Get some rest, we’ll talk in the morning. Will and I are not going anywhere.”

You let out a small smile, which put Jay’s heart a little more at ease. “I get both Halstead brothers? No one has been safer.”

Jay exhaled gently, glad you were at least okay enough to start making jokes. At the same time, your hand curled reflexively around Jay’s.

“I’ll stay until you sleep.” He said, reading your mind in that weird little way he’d been doing for almost all your life.

You nodded, letting your eyelids droop closed again.

When you opened your eyes to the sunlight streaming in through the small gap in the blinds across the windows, it took you a while to gather your bearings, your eyes slowly widening with alarm when you realized you were sleeping on an arm that wasn’t yours.

You glanced behind you as slowly as you could without jostling too much, even though you were pretty sure your heart was thumping loud enough to wake him. Deep down, you’d already known the quiet even breathing right behind you was Jay, one arm under you and another draped across your waist effectively putting you right in his embrace.

You wondered for just a second why you’d found yourself in this position before the memories hit you again, the fragmented memories of the night before hitting you like a punch in the gut - from what you’d found in your house, the panic attack, Jay offering to stay until you fell asleep and then the long night plagued by nightmares of screaming women or blood.

You remembered Jay pulling you out of each nightmare as gently as he could and maybe a vague feeling of Jay climbing in behind you.

Of course, that was probably why you’d finally been able to get some restful sleep. But now, you were embarrassed. Well, maybe mortified was a better word.

You felt Jay stiffen a little from where he was squeezed in behind you now and you realized he’d probably woken as well.

You knew someone had to move first so you shifted but instead of getting up, impulsively turned to face Jay.

Jay looked a little startled, like he was surprised and then confused.

“Hey.” Jay offered with a smile, taking your cue and not moving, one hand still draped under you. “You seemed like you were having some trouble sleeping last night, I didn’t mean to…”

You smiled. “Thank you.”

Jay’s smile widened a little like he was relieved but neither of you had moved yet.

“Jay, last night, I…”

Jay reached out to cup your face gently. “I’ll always be here. As long as you need… or want.”

Your eyebrows lifted slowly as you tried to read what Jay was trying to tell you.

“You will never lose me. I will always be right here beside you.” Jay whispered.

“Jay… you…”

Jay’s eyes moved across the expressions on your face like he was trying to figure out what was going on in your mind.

You didn’t know what to say, mainly because you really hadn’t expected to find yourself in this situation. Half of you wondered whether you weren’t really awake yet but all this was too real.

Sensing hesitation, Jay pulled backwards, both literally and figuratively. “Y/N, you don’t have to… I just wanted to…”

You didn’t know what to say so you snuggled just a little closer, reaching for his hand. “You can’t take it back, Jay.”

Jay paused for a bit and then smiled, before he moved closer towards you and when you didn’t move away, Jay pressed a gentle kiss on your lips. “Promise.” He whispered, as he pulled his lips away from yours.

“You ready?” He asked.

You weren’t, not really. You knew that when the both of you got up, you’d have to talk about what had happened in your house and you weren’t sure you were ready to relive it.

Jay reached for your hand and squeezed.

“I’ll be with you. All the way.”

That seemed to be enough to get you moving. Jay swung his legs out of his bed before stretching his hand out to you and you fit your hand into his, like it was meant to be there all along.

Even if Will hadn’t already gone up to check on you in the middle of the night only to find the both of you huddled together in one bed, he didn’t need to be told that things had changed between the both of you.

He just smiled because if he didn’t know any better he would have thought last night had just one of those normal pizza and beer nights. Whatever, he was just relieved that you seemed to be doing okay, considering everything.

“I gotta get to Med, alright? You’re in good hands.” Will said, smirking.

“Shut up.” You growled, punching Will on the arm but leaning in as he gave you a hug.

Will ruffled your hair gently. “Call if you need me, alright? Although I doubt it.” He couldn’t resist another gentle tease.

You just smiled this time before Will headed out Jay’s door.

Jay gave you a smile as he handed you a cup of tea before sliding into the seat opposite you. “Let’s talk here and then we can go to the district, alright?”

You swallowed and nodded.

Jay reached over, putting his hand over yours and squeezing. “I’m right here.” He reminded.

You smiled, nodding once again.

You don’t know how long you and Jay sat there in his kitchen, going over the cases you were working on recently, or had recently wrapped up. The list wasn’t small, but at least it was exhaustive.

“Alright, come on. We’re going to the district.” Jay got up, swinging an arm around your shoulders before the both of you left the house, but not before you assured Luna you’d be back as soon as you could.

“What do we have?” Jay asked as he closed the pantry door behind him where he’d left you.

Voight nodded and the team took turns speaking. Jay had sent the list of names ahead of them, so both Kevin and Kim had managed to get a preliminary look at them.

“Jay, any idea if we can narrow this down?” Kim asked, even though she kind of knew it was a long shot. “The perp doesn’t seem to be an expert at this, so we got an image to run facial recognition on.”

Voight glanced at Jay.

Jay paused for a moment, thinking. “There’s two people on that list I’d push to the top. Lucas Russell and Jake Lloyd.”

Kim nodded, heading for her computer as Jay turned towards Voight. “Remember that case we handled with the kid? Dylan Stevens’ sister later came in with the harassment accusation and Y/N took her on as a client. They’re smack in the middle of trying to get some evidence to prove their case against Russell.”

Jay paused before continuing. “Lloyd was one of Y/N’s clients but he was hopping mad that he didn’t manage to get full custody and made threats but that case wrapped up months ago. I figured we should look into these two first.”

From where he was standing at his desk, Adam put down the phone.

“That was the lab.” Adam said. “It’s pig’s blood, which is why there was nothing else but blood. They can get those at some butcher shops, I’ll get a list of places in the area.”

Voight nodded, as Adam and Kevin headed out to try the butchers they had on the list who would have and sell a large enough quantity of pig’s blood.

“I’ll scour the pods again to see if I can find anything new.” Kim said, heading back down as Hailey and Jay stayed at their desks and delved straight into both Russell and Lloyd. At least they were starting somewhere.

The monotony was only broken the few times that Jay had gotten up to go check on you. You’d reassure him that you were okay and that you couldn’t feel any safer than you felt now before Jay had thrown himself back into what he had to do.

No matter what, he was going to solve this crap.

Despite his determination, they were still at pretty much a dead end. Facial recognition had come back with a hit but they still weren’t able to connect either Russell or Lloyd directly to the man who’d broken into your house.

Adam and Kevin had gone to pick him up immediately, but he wasn’t telling them anything useful and Jay was losing his patience.

“Go on home.” Voight warned, stepping out of his office. “Take her home.”

“Sarge…” Jay stood, ready to argue but Voight gave him a look.

Jay knew Voight well enough that considering Adam and Kevin’s progress, Voight was going to go into the interrogation room himself.

Jay glanced into the pantry where you’d dozed off on the couch before he looked back at his sergeant and nodded, giving in.

Stepping into the pantry quietly, Jay roused you as gently as he could. “Y/N.”

You jumped, your eyes snapping open. “Hey, it’s okay. It’s me.” Jay whispered. “Sorry.”

You blinked and then shook your head. “Sorry. What is it? Did you get someone?”

The look on Jay’s face told you everything you needed to know. You reached forward to take his hand and squeezed. “I’m okay.”

Jay gave you a small smile. “Come on, let’s go home.”

The word ‘home’ made you smile.

“We’ll grab some food on the way.” Jay said with a smile as he took your hand, the both of you heading out of the district.

You’d had had a quick bite in Jay’s living room together before he’d curled up with you on his couch.

“You should get some sleep.” Jay said quietly, even though he didn’t seem to have any intention of letting you go, his arms still wound around you.

You smiled. “But I love it here.”

Jay let out a little chuckle, even though his mind was still racing through the information he’d gone through earlier. There had to be a connection he was missing.

Just as the thought formed in Jay’s mind, the power went off, the lights and television all shutting off at once.

Jay felt you stiffen in his arms as he sat up.

Jay reached for your hand. “Come here.” Jay reached for the drawer and pulled out his gun as you climbed off the couch as well.

Jay led you back towards the kitchen. “Stay low, stay hidden. Don’t come out until I come and get you.”

You didn’t let go of Jay’s hand.

“It could be nothing. Let’s just be cautious, alright? I’ll be right back.” Jay said quickly, pressing a kiss to the back of your hand.

A little unwillingly, you let go and nodded, crouching low behind the island counter that you’d sat at with Jay countless times for drinks.

You tried to focus on your breathing, focusing on the rhythm and making sure it wasn’t too loud. You’d breathe evenly and softly and just wait for Jay to come back and get you. Everything was going to be okay.

You’d counted to about 80 in your head when you heard the sound of shuffling footsteps.

A part of you hoped it was Jay but you also knew that if Jay was being careful, he wouldn’t walk like this. No way in hell.

The footsteps stopped and you glanced up, the terror gripping you as you looked up into the face of Lucas Russell.

Fuck.

Russell leaned forward and tugged you roughly upwards and out of where you’d been crouched. The scream was stuck in your throat but you needed to let Jay know someone else was here.

But even before you unstuck your own voice, Jay came out of nowhere, tackling Russell towards the ground.

The sudden lift in pressure from Russell's grip on you caused you to lose your balance and you tumbled onto your side, feeling the pain of crashing onto the floor resonate throughout your body.

“Get out of here. Now!” Jay yelled, as he wrestled with Russell, landing a punch across his face before Russell pushed Jay off him.

You didn’t have time to think, stumbling out of Russell’s reach.

But all you knew was that you couldn’t leave Jay behind. No matter what.

“Y/N!” Jay yelled, afraid you hadn’t heard him.

As if pushed out physically from your trance, you started moving but a crash from behind you made you turn.

“Jay!” You yelled, as your eyes registered Jay on the ground a little way away and trying to get to his feet.

Russell pulled out a knife, the blade glistened in the moonlight but before the fear could even register, you heard a chorus of voices that finally made you breathe.

“Chicago PD!”

You let Kim gently pull you towards her as Voight and Adam headed straight for Russell, Voight’s gun hovering dangerously nearer to Russell’s temple than normal as Adam forced him down to the ground to slap the handcuffs over his wrist.

Jay was already by your side. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” He demanded, his eyes roving across you.

You shook your head even though the tears were already gathering in your eyes and Jay pulled you gently into his arms. “Alright, I got you. I got you. It’s over.”

You shook gently even as you were wrapped in Jay’s arms and your legs finally gave way. You felt yourself sinking but Jay merely pulled you tighter against him, a protective hand wrapped around the back of your head. “I got you.”

The team had filled you and Jay in once they’d brought Russell back in - the guy they’d arrested had finally cracked and given them the information they needed. Even so, they’d almost sped off to his house but not before Hailey had found a message on Russell's phone that hinted at him ending things tonight. So they’d detoured back to Jay’s.

Now, after things were mostly settled, you lay in Jay’s arms, the both of you squashed into his bed that had clearly been meant for one person.

“I shouldn’t have let you get pulled into this mess.” You whispered, your fingers gently tracing his face.

Jay shook his head. “I will always be between you and a threat. I promised and I’ll deliver.”

You scooted closer towards Jay and Jay laid a protective hand on the back of your head again. “It’s over.”

“You know what?” You asked him after a short silence.

Jay raised an eyebrow as he looked down to meet your eyes.

“At least there’s one good thing out of all of this.” You said quietly.

“What’s that?” Jay asked. You could hear the smile in his voice without even looking up.

You shifted. “I get to do this now.” You leaned up to press your lips to his.

Jay chuckled even as both your lips were still pressed together. “No arguments there.”

THANK YOU FOR READING!! PLEASE TELL ME WHAT YOU THOUGHT OF THIS!!

If you want to support me, buy me a coffee!

#resa.fics #resa.3kfiestabingo #jay halstead #jay halstead x reader #chicago pd #jay halstead fanfic #jay halstead imagine #jay halstead one shot #chicago pd x reader #jay halstead x you #jay halstead x y/n

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verdemoun · 13 days

Text

modern au but the gang waking up in modern day in the order they died with memories of their lives as outlaws:

bessie motherfucking matthews being the one that rounds them up. she's a professor at a university teaching women's history and owns a little cottage on the outskirts of town, and uses newspaper articles to try and plot out who/where someone will 'wake up'

sean was the first VDL she successfully found. davey and mac somehow found each other and got themselves incarcerated for armed robbery before she got them.

sean adapts almost instantly and loves the chaos of modern day cities: car horns, fluorescent lights, night clubs, television (fuck you lenny reading is for nerds!!). he steals a bike he calls ennis II and gets a job delivering pizzas

she finds hosea and lenny next. it's a very emotional reunion. she starts calling lenny her son. hosea spends at least a week refusing to let his wife out of his sight because he has to be dreaming, kisses and adores her at every opportunity. their dates are her teaching him to drive a car

lenny takes less than a day to figure out computers and takes over the locate the VDLs project. he has what is effectively a murder wall of colored yarn and push pins trying to figure out when and where the next person will appear. manages to cyber-stalk down jenny, who being as breathtakingly clever as she is figured out the present all by herself and works in a diner. she comes over for dinner twice a week

retracing the gang's steps they find kieran, who is doing fabulously not well. he's been homeless for a month, got hit by a car and is very, very distraught by not only the memories of his torture after being taken by o'driscolls but the fact he betrayed the gang by talking. bessie matthews, mother to all, introduces him to noise cancelling headphones, gardening, and horse girl movies.

lenny: hey i've been doing some research and i think most of us have this thing called ptsd????

when hosea and bessie want to have a nice, quiet romantic dinner by themselves they put sensory videos on the tv and all the boys just sit there silently

#rdr2 modern au #bessie matthews #hosea matthews #sean macguire #lenny summers #kieran duffy #rdr2 timewarp au

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year

Note

talia and bruce having a older son who “went missing ” but actually joined the court of owls . he’s become friends with a bunch of rouges and two face is like a dad to him. he lives with harley and ivy and sometimes selina and they just chaos. but he runs into batfam and damian just wants to kidnap him so he can have his brother back

Will do. Sorry for taking a while to write this. And sorry if this was too short, I tried to write more 😖 I'm thinking about a part 2, but I'm not sure. Should I?

Summary: Bruce and Talia had a son. But the problem is that he is missing and Talia and Bruce can't find him. That is, until one night that will change everything.

Warnings: Mentions of murder, but nothing explicit, the rouges being friends with (Y/N), Damian trying to kidnap (Y/N), Bruce being done with everything.

(Y/N) wiped his hands, opening the doors of the roof. He sighed as he watched over the city. He managed to kill his target, now it was time to call the cleaners up and he will be going to see Harvey. He didn't see the man in a while. The Court kept him busy. He made a quick call and off he went.

He ran from roof to roof, jumping and rolling. He was close to Harvey's place and he positioned himself to jumped trough the thankfully open window. He landed softly on the hard floor. He walked down the hall for a while before knocking on Harvey's door.

He entered the office, smiling at the man who smiled back.

" My boy, it's been a while! " Harvey said, bringing him into a hug.

" I know, the Court made me busy. " (Y/N) replied, releasing the man.

" How are you? Are you injured? " Harvey asked quickly.

" I'm not injured, I am way to talented to get injured. "

Harvey chuckled, knowing it was true. (Y/N) was a good assassin. Quick and fast on his feet.

" Are you here for long? "

" No, I made a promise to Harley and Ivy that we would have a sleepover. And they told me to get back as soon as possible. "

" Are you hungry? I can make you something quickly. "

" I am slightly, but like I said, I will sleep at Harley's. I'm sure she ordered some pizza. "

" You need something other than pizza. "

(Y/N) shrugged, brushing off the comment. Pizza is life.

" Okay, fine, pizza is enough. "

(Y/N) smiled at Harvey, approving of the comment.

Harvey gave him a hug, saying goodbye. The boy was like a son to him and he doesn't spend enough time with him. He needs to talk with Pamela and Harley about this.

" I will come to visit you in a few days. "

And after a quick hug, he jumped out the window office, managing to swing himself up to the roof. From there he ran once more. He sighed in relief when he go to the Botanical Gardens. He went to the building where Harley and Poison Ivy lived.

(Y/N) was finally happy for Harley. She left the Joker after being abused for so long. From what he has heard, she beat him so heard that he was out of action for a few months so to speak. And he was glad.

He climbed down from the roof through the window that was conveniently left open. He slid in the living room, where Harley was waiting on the couch.

" Hello my little owl! We had made some pizza for you and sit down, no wait, do you need to change? " She fired question after question, not letting him answer.

Pamela gave him a sympathetic smile, knowing that he just needed to crash.

" Hun, let him go to his room. We got you some clean clothes. Take a shower too if you want too. "

(Y/N) nodded, walking towards the room. He sometimes lived here, almost like a third roommate, but that 3rd roommate doesn't pay rent, shows up bloody from time to time and just tired in general. But that wasn't anything new in Gotham. Gotham people aren't even fazed at anything at this point.

He changed from his court of Owls suit. Once he took the the top off, he looked at his arms. No bruises tonight it seems. Good. He took everything off and went into the bathroom. They turned the heating on here. Aw. (Y/N) didn't like cold and he was generally cold most of the time.

He got into the shower and let the warm water. He sighed in pleasure as the warm water washed over his body. It felt heavenly. He quickly washed his hair and body and changed into fresh clothes. He took a towel to dry his hair and then threw it in the laundry bin. Pizza sounds great now. He didn't really eat anything before he left to kill his target.

" Here is your slice. Come on, sit here. Harley wants to watch movies." Pamela said, but something was off.

" Please tell me it isn't action. "

Pamela looked away for a moment and (Y/N) sighed. No. Everything in those movies was unreal and stupid. He always ends up criticizing the moves and unrealistic stuff.

Always.

" Harley, tell me why I have to watch this shit? " (Y/N) asked, huffing.

" Because your commentary is great. You can always shed a light on Hollywood stunts and what doesn't look real. I watched a lot of movies where people's mental health was misrepresented. " Harley said, smiling. But there was something else behind that smile.

" What did you do? " (Y/N) asked, moving closer to Pamela. Pamela raised her eyebrow, confused. What did her girlfriend do?

" Whatever do you mean? "

Pamela sighed. She did something.

" Shit. " (Y/N) muttered, rubbing his forehead. Oh no. The doorbell rang and (Y/N) tensed up. Harley jumped up from the couch and (Y/N) wanted to stop her. It's never a good idea to open the door like that. This is Gotham for the love of God.

" Selina! " Harley screamed and (Y/N) relaxed. Okay, it's Catwoman. Whew.

" (Y/N), my little owl! Harley didn't say you were going to be here! " Selina exclaimed happily, quickly bringing her favorite into a hug.

" I wanted to surprise you. " Harley said, moving to sit on Pamela's lap.

" Well, none the less, I brought some face masks. "

(Y/N) groaned as the girls laughed. Oh God.

Few days later, he went to Harvey. There was a problem while he was working, well killing. He got ambushed by familiar assassin. His mother's assassins. Did his mother found him? That can't be. He made sure that it looked liked like he went missing. Maybe it wasn't his mother, but his father?

(Y/N) shook his head. No... Bruce would go after him himself. What is he going to do now?

He rolled his shoulder that was probably dislocated or bruised. He can't do this. He can't go back to live with either of them. He can't. He just can't. There is a reason why (Y/N) joined the Court of Owls.

Talia cursed as she got a call from one of her assassins. (Y/N) escaped and even managed to evade her assassins. He was taught well after all. The limo that she was driving in stopped in front of the manor. She gave Bruce a call about (Y/N). Bruce was quickly outside waiting for her already. He was nervous, fearing the info.

" Hello beloved. I have news. " Talia said, moving past Bruce inside of the manor.

" You should call Damian too. "

Bruce didn't need to. The four boys showed up, and everyone was tense and on guard, but Damian. He knew that his mother wouldn't attack them.

" What is happening? " Jason asked.

" You know about Damian's brother (Y/N)? The one that went missing? " Bruce said, rubbing his forehead.

The boys nodded, confused. They knew the basics of (Y/N)'s story, but nothing in detail.

" Talia found him. Her assassins tried to get him, but he escaped and evaded them. "

" And that's not all. " Talia said, making everyone look at her.

" He joined the Court of Owls. I recognized the uniform he was wearing. "

Bruce was shocked to say the least. He sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. No. Oh no.

" So what do we do? " Jason asked.

" We find him and bring him here. " Damian said as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

" Okay, we can't just kidnap him- " Dick started, trying to come up with a non violent solution.

" Well you can't, but I can. " Damian said.

" But you do need a plan. " Talia said.

Damian mumbled something beneath his breath. Bruce knew that it wasn't something good. But Talia was right. If they wanted to bring (Y/N) back, they would need to make a plan. A good one.

(Y/N) was paranoid. For the last couple of days, he was constantly watching his back. Maybe he needs to leave Gotham? But where? Mexico? Canada? Somewhere in Europe? Asia? Australia?

No, not Australia. Spiders and snakes.

" What am I going to do? " (Y/N) asked himself as he was standing on the roof. He couldn't stay with anybody tonight. He was going to crash with them during the day.

He just needs to survive the night. He needs to. He can do this.

" Hello brother. "

(Y/N) slowly turned around. Damian the rest of the family was there.

" Not happening. " (Y/N) said, before jumping off of the roof.

He heard footsteps behind him. He can't stop now, he needs to lose them now. He managed to throw Tim off. He could only hope to throw the rest off.

He was proven wrong when Damian threw them both down onto a random rooftop. They both groaned before managing to rise up to their feet.

" Why did you join the Court of Owls? " Damian asked, completely calm. (Y/N) glared at Damian, refusing to answer.

" You don't need to know that. "

(Y/N) looked back, seeing a building. It was still in construction, he could hide there. He managed to jumped there just in time. He landed softly before moving through the holes through the floor.

He listened to the possible noise that they could make. He held his breath as he managed to escape. He put a scarf over the bottom part of his face and the pulling a cap out of his pocket to put it on his head. He needs to get somewhere.

Somewhere away from here. He closed his eyes for a moment. No. No emotions tonight. Only pure logic.

#batfamily #dc comics #dc x male reader #x male reader #batman dc #dc

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toarminapizza1 · 4 months

Text

Pizza Westland

Are you trying to find the best pizza in Westland, MI? Finding the right pizza place can be a tough task, considering how you’d have to visit every single one of them to try out their pizzas to make an informed decision! Well, why not hop online and find the best pizza place near you? Check out Pizza Westland today!

#pizza restaurants dearborn mi #pizza garden city #dearborn halal pizza kitchen

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espresso-lessdepresso · 10 months

Text

fluff

t/w: none

a/n: haha...im like 5 months late but I'm here^^ [covered in blood and sweat, beaten and bruised, eyes red and burning from the seething smoke from the 7th ring of hell]

The evening had darkened by the time the two of you met. Your busy lives had kept you apart most of the day. The February winds were still cold as you walked alongside your tall lover. His jacket had already been placed around your shoulders before the chilly weather could bite.

“I didn’t take you for being all sweet and romantic like this.” You said. In one hand was a tall bouquet of red flowers and in the other would have been Schlatt’s hand if he hadn’t covered your eyes.

“You’re ruining it.” He spoke as he tried to guide you, making sure you didn’t trip on anything.

“I’m just saying-” You tried to argue.

He huffed, “'saying' ruins it.”

“...This is just very unexpected,” The feeling of your hand reaching up and closing over his made Schlatt’s face warm, distracting him from his task of leading you. “and very lovely.”

The sky was painted with deep shades of purple and blue. The little clouds in the sky let the moon shine gracefully below and the stars twinkled. You did not know where you were nor did you know where Schlatt was taking you. Not being able to see made you focus on the sounds you were hearing and the earthy fragrance. The ambience of the city and the sound of traffic were entirely gone. Instead, it was replaced by the ruffle of trees swaying by the wind and the occasional low murmuring of people. You felt the ground beneath you sink a little as you stepped off what you assumed to be a stone path and onto the grass.

“Okay...” Schlatt whispered, more to himself than to you. He was biting the inside of his cheek, a little nervous since this would be the first time doing something like ‘this’. He was even slightly embarrassed, but he wanted to do this. For you. You deserve nice things like this.

Standing behind you, Schlatt’s hands fell from your face and rested on your shoulders. The wind picked up your hair, twirling it around your face. Your eyes did not need to adjust to the light as the evening was already dark. When your eyes were drawn to the sight in front of you, you felt your heart truly swell.

Who cares if it was a bit cliché, you loved it.

Fairy lights lit up the area, glowing around the large red and white chequered sheet. You didn’t know what to look at first. Two wine glasses stood on a wooden tray next to the bottle of wine. A charcuterie board was lined and filled with cured meats and various cheeses, olives, nuts, and small slices of bread which had little jars of jam beside it. When you look over at the pizza boxes, you can feel a smile curling your lips; is this possibly why he got all frustrated when you couldn’t choose what was your favourite food? Well, pizza is always a safe bet.

Everything was so scenic. Too scenic even. Schlatt had picked a spot in the park which wasn’t too secluded from the main area, but a fair distance away for the both of you to have some privacy. Where behind you was the path back to the centre of the park, to the right was a garden of freshly bloomed flowers, their sweet and earthy scent lingering in the air. And ahead of you, the view if you will, was the park’s quiet and still lake. You’d never thought you’d be able to experience something like this- straight out of a movie or novel.

Schlatt’s hands moved lower from your shoulders to your waist. You’re pulled back from the astonishment as he brings you into a hug. Still chewing on the inside of his cheek, he waits for you to say something.

With your back against his chest, you look up. Your boyfriend. Your sweet boyfriend. Schlatt’s face is framed by his beautiful brown curls and eyes glittering from the fairy lights. He was illuminated by the dark purple sky behind him. Seeing your smile, he couldn’t help but mirror you.

His brows lift up, still looking at you, asking without having to speak, Well?

It was only then you realised how long it had been since you were like this. Together. Very much wrapped up in each other with no space between you two to keep you apart. No office calls interrupting you and no busy schedules keeping you from seeing one another. “You put so much work into this Schlatt, I love it.” Your voice feels incredibly warm and sweet to his ears. Schlatt had a smile that stretched across his face, making his eyes crease into the shape of half-moons. “...I love you.”

A beat passed.

Schlatts face shifted to a surprised expression, his eyes wide and mouth open, as he let his head fall back. He chuckled, ”Finally!” You looked at him with confusion. “I thought...Ah, I thought I was the one who’d have to say the ‘three magical words’ first.”

“YOU! HOW DARE-!” He cackled as you fake-fought with him, landing punches on his chest and arm that didn't really do much harm. He pretended to be in pain from the punches as he tumbled down onto the picnic blanket, pulling you down with him.

Schlatt has his arms around you once again, just unable to ever let go of you it seemed. With one hand, he helped fix your ruffled hair, “I love you too doll.”

Schlatt won’t say it, but he knows he did Valentine's Day right, just for you.

++++++

Engage and let me know if/how you like the writing. Reblogging/Sharing is much appreciated.

master list

#jschlatt #schlatt #jschlatt fanfic #jschlatt fanfiction #schlattfanfic #schlatt fanfiction #jschlatt fluff #schlatt fluff #jschlatt imagine #schlatt imagine #jschlatt x reader #schlatt x reader

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blueberrypancakesworld · 6 months

Note

Heeey, I really love your content, so could you maybe write about an ordinary day with Dead, a little bit fluff and making out.🥹♥️

A normal day

warning : fluff, kissing, cuddling, no use of Y/n, reader is fem

masterlist

Info : Thanks for the request and the kind words enjoy reading it and everybody else too ;)

Disclaimer : I don't want to glorify anything, it's about the actors who play a role, not the real events.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

°A normal day would be now yes a normal day with Dead and his girlfriend together with the other boys. In the early morning hours when she would still be asleep the light would already be on in the common sleeping room.

°The day would always begin for the blond with a few drawings pictures he had seen in his sleep out of his longing of the dead. Wanted to get a few more albums cover ready before he would wake her. His cold hand stroked her cheek and she slowly woke up from the goosebumps. She looked at him a little annoyed and yet with a smile as he pulled her into a kiss. His excuse that always came.

°The morning that was always too early according to her was then at breakfast together she made sure that her love did not only eat ready-made pizzas. Sometimes she did not even feed him that he would have something against it however the incentive was then usually a further round on the Friedhoff which they made at break of the night mostly.

°,,If I didn't have you," he said, his hand resting on hers as they both drank their black espresso. Only darkness for the soul she thought to herself and smiled when she saw him taking a sip of milk in spite of it. He always did it, but there was a little lightness in his heart.

°From the shared apartment, the entire black coven met in the dilapidated house. The red run-down wooden house had clearly seen better days. But Dead and his heart were surprisingly handy and had already repaired the roof more than once at night at the request of their friend. But at the latest when he ended up laughing on the floor below, they decided to do it by day.

°While the band was rehearsing and she wasn't listening, she was giving some hints and playing the guitar herself, writing some poems, cleaning the house or trying not to let the garden in the backyard of the house die. The garden in which she had also planted dark roses, which surprisingly were Dead's favorite flowers.

°The rehearsals were usually so loud that she hummed along and shouted a little. She knew his lyrics by heart and practiced with him whenever they had time. Before they all together either what in the snacks in the city hollten or the pancakes devoured she had made them all. Much to her delight, the boys were all over her. ,,My cooking is the best," she mumbled and took one herself before sitting down next to Dead on the couch.

°The rehearsal continued for a while before they both headed back home. Hand in hand and even if he didn't want it at first he liked the contact. She gave him a kiss again and again and she felt how he stroked her fingers. Again and again they talked about new lyrics, album covers and new artworks.

°When they were back in the apartment and cuddling on the couch watching horrofilms. The snacks flowed while she felt his fingers tracing gentle circles over her fingers up to her arms and pulling her to him. Apparently he decided to leave kisses on her hat before he pulled her onto his shot. That the day ended with more than just cuddling and kisses for them both was as clear to them as the hell.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

@icarus-star

#lord of chaos #lords of chaos 2018 #jack kilmer #lords of chaos dead x reader #loc dead x reader #reader is female

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stawpny · 7 months

Text

hey it’s been a loooong time since I’ve posted headcannons sooo here we go!

-Mass originally hated the fact of raising another little demon (NY) but he would always yell at people whenever they tried to take him away or touch him. New York would bite their hand too.

-New York mumbles the most exotic curse words/insults in Dutch whenever he is mad at someone.

-I feel like he would be like, “ aw shit, my arm hurts,” then like reveal a huge fucking bruise.

-if he finds something hanging from the ceiling, he will start to play with it, just like cats do. He’ll only stop when he gets bored or when he gets hurt somehow.

-leading into this one, he gets hurt really fucking easily. Like no matter what, he’ll always have a new cut or something like that. He’s a clumsy cat, what can I say?

-mans is like Gordon Ramsey bro. Ask him to cook something, give him ingredients, and he’ll be on his way.

-on the other hand, California can’t cook for shit. He burns everything, including himself.

- I feel like this man has no bad photos. Even if you catch him off guard, he always looks good in every one. Even the 0.5’s can’t do him wrong.

-he smells like cawfee, pizza, and cigarettes.

-New Jersey is a part-time florist. He gathers flowers from his garden and sells them on the streets of Jersey City.

-The whole northeast :“I don’t give a shit what you do, just don’t involve me.”

-pigeon. He owns pigeons. Not legally, but they’re his. (ny)

-he’s been shot 5 times in total, 2 times in the revolution, 1 in Civil and 1812, and 1 as a mafia leader.

-I would say that he doesn’t hate NYC, but he hates the people. (me too.)

—

hey

Sorry that these suck but I didn’t know what to do and like my mind was blank

but anyways, I hope u like

ily guys <3

#wttsh #wttt #welcome to the statehouse #wttt headcanons #wttt new york #wttsh headcanons #wttsh new york #wttt california #wttt massachusetts #wttt new jersey #wttt northeast #AUGH

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starcrossedxwriter · 11 months

Text

A Love That Never Fades (MBJ x OC)

A/N: My first request by the amazing @prettyisasprettydoes1306! Hope you enjoy it!!

Warnings: miscarriage

“Hey baby,” Chastity swung open the door to her apartment and wrapped her boyfriend in a deep embrace. She buried her face in his neck as he held her for a moment. Though they were not on the same page at the moment, this part, the love, was always there.

“How are you?”

“J-Just tired and weirdly nauseous. Probably just the stress of these fuckin’ finals though. Can’t wait for this semester to be over.”

Michael glanced from his girlfriend and her very cozy leggings and sweatshirt to the cluttered mess of notes and open textbooks spread across her couch and coffee table, a realization hitting him.

“Think you’ll still be able to go to this party with me? For the studio?”

Chastity glanced at him and the clock and the mountain of work she still needed to do to finish her paper by tomorrow at noon. She rubbed her forehead in frustration at herself for losing track of time and not being able to finish her paper and the predicament she and Michael seemed to routinely find themselves as of late.

His star in Hollywood was on the rise, which meant more events and opportunities for him to shine. Chastity could not be prouder. However, the schedule of a rising actor did not quite align with the schedule of a junior in a rigorous degree program. 90% of Chastity’s time was devoted to classes, studying to maintain her trajectory of graduating with honors, and her wide range of extracurricular activities. While she loved her boyfriend, her hustle and her desire to be the very best is what drove her, which meant there was precious time left in the day for anything else, including her long-term boyfriend.

She and Michael met freshman year of high school, the pair sat next to each other in homeroom World History. There was an immediate pull that led them to becoming best friends by the end of the first week. It did not take long for them to become inseparable and for their feelings to bleed over the appropriate boundaries of friendship. Chastity still remembered the night Michael asked her to be his girlfriend at a local pizza parlor near his house. It remained one of the happiest moments of her life.

Throughout their relationship, they were each other’s first in almost everything, sharing so many intimate and special moments of their formative years together. When Michael decided to move out to LA to pursue acting full-time, Chastity had no reservations about following him, especially since UCLA was one of her top choices for college. Their first two years in their new city were magical. They were two broke kids following their dreams and still managing to live their best lives. Chastity excelled in her classes and on campus socially and Michael laid the groundwork for, what they both knew, would be a long career in Hollywood.

However, it felt like something shifted between them in the last year. Chastity’s school work exponentially increased as she settled into her major and got internships and other priorities. And Michael booked role after role that took him out of LA for months at a time, leaving the pair little to no time to spend together.

Neither of them complained, one of the many things they fell in love with each other for was their work ethic. Neither of them were afraid to sacrifice and hustle to achieve their dreams. But they had also never had to sacrifice each other, that was new. And where did that hustle leave their relationship? What time did that leave to nurture their garden that required time, energy, and dedication to stay alive? And the last few months were living proof of the consequences of not tending to that garden, significant parts of their relationship dying because of it.

“I don’t think so, babe. I’m sorry… I tried but I’m just not making progress on this paper. And it’s due tomorrow. I’m gonna be in this spot all night”

Michael hung his head in disappointment, his hand scratching his head. He stayed silent as he tried to find words that did not fully showcase the extent of his disappointment and frustration.

“I’m sorry, Mike, seriously,” she interjected, closing the book next to her. “I can make it up to you? In two weeks, finals’ll be done and I’ll be all yours, half naked… on the beach.” She smiled slyly as she stood, wrapping her arms around him. She could not wait to get their vacation, Michael treating her to a beach getaway to celebrate the end of her semester. It was a needed vacation for both of them, a bright spot at the end of a dark and long tunnel, and given their lack of emotional intimacy as of late, she was looking forward to a week of spending time with only him.

However, she was surprised to find a despondent look on his face as she mused about their upcoming trip.

“What’s wrong?”

“Babe…” he started to say, Chastity immediately cutting him off. She removed herself from his arms, folding hers across her chest in frustration.

“Mike. NO. What the fuck? We’ve had this planned for months!”

Michael threw his hands up in the air. “What do you want me to say, Chas?! This director reached out and it’s a last minute opportunity. I-I can’t pass it up. I gotta go for table reads in New York the week of our trip.”

Chastity glanced up at the ceiling, hopeful that it would stop her tears from falling.

“I-I’m sorry. I’ll make it up to you,” he tried to offer but Chastity merely scoffed.

“Make it up to me when? You’re gonna be gone in New York, then you have another project all summer and then I’m back in school. There is no time to make it up to me!”

“Shit! I’m doin’ the best I can, babe! I’m tryin’ to be there for you and get my career going.”

She merely shook her head, her palms pressing into her eyes as tears started to fall. She hated crying.

“I-If this is the best we can do…” she mumbled as she sat down on the couch. She was exhausted, finally feeling the compounding weight of their repeated failures on her shoulders. When she looked back over the last month, she did not see the fruits of their best efforts, the benefits of “trying.” She merely saw the destruction their failures left behind.

She twiddled her thumbs as she stared at her hands, feeling his weight on the couch as he sat down beside her.

“What if… it’s just not in cards for us, babe?”

Michael turned around sharply, already feeling his world crumbling as her words hit him. “W-what are you saying, Chas?”

Chastity looked up at the ceiling as tears stung the back of her eyes. “B-believe me, it’s not what I want, Michael. But our lives are j-just not… We’ve been trying our hardest for the last few months and its only led to this… mess. It’s not working… w-we aren’t working.”

As much as it broke his heart, he had no argument to offer, not one that was rooted in logic at least. Because she was right. They had been ships passing in the night for months and despite efforts on both sides to adjust and compromise, there was only so much adjusting an actor and college student could do regardless of how much they loved each other. They wanted it to work, but in this iteration of their lives, neither saw a world in which it could. They could stay together and make it work just because they loved each other. But they both knew that would only lead to more resentment. Chasity was merely the first one brave enough to confront that fact.

Michael’s hand roughly wiped away a tear making its way down his cheek. “Nah you’re right. I c-can’t give you need or deserve right now.”

Chastity shook her head. “This is not just on you, Mike. You need someone who can support your dreams and be there for you always. Right now, my life is this,” she gestured to the stack of books on her coffee table. “I’m tryin’ but there isn’t room for much else.”

“So this is it?”

“I j-just don’t see another option. A-and it kills me. You have to know that. B-but this, this half life we are living together? It just hurts too much,” she whispered, her voice breaking.

“Nah, nah. I u-understand.”

“I-I love you so much, you know that?”

“I l-love you too.”

Michael pressed his lips to her head, letting out a strangled sigh before he turned to leave. He did not look back at her, he knew if he did, he would not be able to walk out the door. And she did not look at him, for if she did, she would not have been able to let him leave. But they both knew they had to - he had to leave and she had to let him. Because they deserved more than what the other could give them. And their careers deserved a chance to flourish without someone, even someone they loved with all their might, holding them back.

“Bye, Chastity…” he offered a final word before he exited.

“Bye Michael.”

***

7 years later

“Oof I’m starvin’” Michael muttered as he, Steelo, and a couple other friends sat down at their table at the back of Nobu. He rubbed his hands together as he scanned the menu. Despite its popularity, it still managed to be delicious and worth every dollar every time he went. His eyes felt significantly bigger than his stomach as he wanted to devour everything he could.

“Aye bruh,” Steelo gently hit him on his arm to get his attention. The man pointed toward a table of women on the other side of the restaurant. Despite the distance of the restaurant, Michael would recognize the woman at the center of the booth any day from miles away. “That aint’ Chas, is it??”

Michael cleared his throat awkwardly. “Nah it is.” He had not seen her since they broke up years ago. Time had diminished his heartache, but it had not diminished his feelings for her. Since their break up, he had felt those feelings in tiny sparks at random moments. Something or someone or a place ignited a memory of her and those feelings flared for a brief moment. Then they disappeared, shoved back into the crevices of his mind where he could not feel them again. Until the next time.

However, in this moment, he did not feel sparks. He felt those feelings like a burning fire, consuming every other emotion in his mind like fuel until it was the only thing left worth feeling at all. And that was far worse, far more uncomfortable than the momentary pain. This forced him to remember it all, pine for it all again, and mourn what he lost when they broke up.

His life had moved on, his star had rose just as Chas said it would. And he kept up with her career, as much as he could without seeming stalker-ish, and knew her star was rising as well. However, his heart was stagnant, frozen in time with her. He had tried to find other partners, other women who could fade into the background and be the supportive woman on his arm. But none of them compared or even came close.

Because recently, he realized the last thing he wanted was a supportive trophy girl on his arm. He wanted a woman with her own shit, who was a star in her own right and who knew how to stand alone without him. That was the definition of Chastity. And even across the dim restaurant, he could see her radiating the same beauty he remembered. If anything, time had only increased that glow.

“Stop staring bruh. It’s gettin’ awkward. Don’t be a fuckin’ creeper.” Steelo instructed, Michael immediately removing his eyes from her table as his friends all snickered at him. He knew what he looked like, a love sick puppy. But he was who he was. A man still in love with a woman he knew he could not have.

“Alright this is fuckin’ weird. Imma go say hey.” Steelo decided, tired of the awkward silence that drowned on as Michael stole glances at her table and ignored the conversations at theirs.

“What?? Nah nigga. Sit yo ass down,” Michael instructed, his voice low and annoyed as Steelo stood up.

“Nah nigga. We know them, went to school with them. Imma go over, gauge… I’ll give you the signal and then you come over and say what’s up. She’s gonna have to walk by this table to leave so let’s just get the awkward shit outta the way now, aight? Damn” he muttered under his breath. “This nigga always got somethin’.”

Michael’s hands awkwardly rubbed against his jeans as he felt his palms get sweaty. With every step Steelo took toward the table, his heartbeat grew louder and louder in his ear until it was a thundering drum beat. He stood up abruptly.

“Imma go to the bathroom,” he announced before scurrying away from the table and toward the back, locking himself in the restroom. He braced himself over the sink.

“Fuck. What’s wrong with you, Mike?” He asked himself as he looked in the mirror. There was a time when he planned to spend the rest of his life with this girl and now he could not get the courage to cross a restaurant and utter a one-syllable word: hey.

Michael usually did not give into his fear. He felt it, just like every other human being, but he refused to give it control. His philosophy usually was that if something scared you, you were on the right track. However, with Chastity, talking to her scared him and he did not know if his usual philosophy applied. Their break up was amicable at the time. But had time changed how she felt about him? How she viewed their teenage-into-adulthood romance? Michael certainly could have been a better boyfriend back in those days. He had learned a lot in the game of adulting and there were things he wished he could go back and do differently. Did she hold those things against him?

He did not know and he was afraid to find out. But he knew he could not hole up in the bathroom until she and their friends left. He would have to find courage from somewhere, even if he had to pretend to be a version of himself he was not. He could act courageous even if he did not feel it.

He swung open the door to the bathroom to find his way back to their table, shocked to literally run into Chastity on the way out.

“Oof!”

“My bad!” He immediately offered before he realized who it was. “C-Chastity?”

“Wild way to say hello after so many years, Mike,” she laughed as she rolled her shoulder for a moment and moved around him toward the women’s bathroom door.

“What can I say? Always had a flair for the dramatic, right?” He offered.

“Yea, you did. We get older but somethings never change, huh?”

Michael chuckled, immediately feeling a bit at ease as she started off with a playful jab. This was their way, their banter, constant jokes. He missed that.

“You might be right about that.” He glanced up and down at her, she looked beautiful. Her body was still worth feasting on, her curves filling out in all the right places as she grew older. “H-how you been?”

Chas shrugged, “Good, good. Just working, honestly. Long hours kill me but that’s the grind right? What about you? I see you taking Hollywood by storm, Mr. Superstar.”

“Like you always said I would. Wouldn’t have gotten this far without you,” he offered humbly. And he meant it. Chastity supported every project and every dream, even the ones that seemed wild and outlandish. She had been his motivation and biggest cheerleader. And since he lost her for this career, he always felt this push to do everything he could to be successful so that sacrifice they both made would be worth something.

“I don’t believe that for a second,” she laughed, her hand waving to dismiss him. “You were always a star. Long before you met me.”

“Eh you brought it out of me though. Supported me through it all,” his hand grabbed hers, his thumb rubbing patterns on the back of her hand.

Chastity’s eyes gently fell closed at his touch. She had forgotten how much she missed it, how much comfort it provided. When you go without for so long, time diminishes what the thing you lacked actually felt like. You start to get used to life without it, build a routine to the point where, it no longer feels like you are missing anything at all. But now that she had it again, she wanted to bask in it and never let it go.

However, she knew she could not. That was not who they were, not anymore. It pained her but she gently and slowly removed her hand from his, using it the awkwardly scratch her arm just to appear to have something to do.

“So you got the whole gang out here, I see?” He cleared his throat and gestured toward her table.

“Oh yea. Shauna’s birthday so they all came out to visit. It’s been nice to have ‘em here. Crazy that we ran into y’all. Small world.”

“For sure.”

They stared at each other for a few moments, an awkward but not unpleasant silence settling between them. Chastity was the first one to decide to break it. Not because she wanted to leave but because she was fearful of what would happen if she stayed. Michael was her kryptonite and if she stayed too long in his lingering stare and touch, she would never be able to make herself leave. And she would not be able to keep certain skeletons buried where they belonged.

“U-Um, I better head back before they think someone kidnapped me,” she joked, causing him to laugh. “It was really good to see you.”

She started to return to the table, her mission to go to the bathroom to avoid Michael long forgotten.

“Hey Chas!” Michael stopped her.

She turned and glanced at him. “What’s up?”

“What are y’all doing tomorrow night?”

“Nothing right now, why?”

“Come by the house. Still the same number? I can text you the address. I’m having a cookout. Low-key, just friends, music, food, and drinks. Maybe y’all could swing by for a bit.”

Chastity nodded. She knew it was not a good idea. They had only been in each other’s presence for 5 minutes and they were already falling back into old patterns. However, she also knew she could not say no, not to him. Not to the chance of spending time with him again. Even if it was fleeting, she wanted it and needed it.

“Sure, I’ll run it by the girls. And yea, same number.”

“Ok cool.” He threw caution to the wind and wrapped her in a hug before letting her go. His heart smiled at the way her body instinctively relaxed into his. He wished they could’ve stayed like that, in each other’s arms all night, but they both had people to get back to.

They broke apart and retreated to their tables, each of them stealing a glance back at the other as they went.

“So ladies…” Chastity slid back into their booth, a sly grin painted on her face. “What do yall think about going to a party tomorrow?”

“At Michael’s??” One of them asked.

At Chastity’s nods, the girls only had one response:

“Say less.”

***

“You gonna go find your man?” Shauna asked as Chastity and the girls walked through Michael’s foyer. It was packed with people, the vibe feeling more like a party than a cookout but she recognized some familiar faces from school, guys that still were cool with Michael. They had not even seen the host yet, it was so crowded, Steelo had welcomed them into his spot.

“We just got here, Shauna. And he’s entertaining and shit. I’m sure I’ll see him at some point.”

Even as she spoke, her eyes intently searched the crowd for his familiar handsome face. But she did not see him anywhere.

“You gonna shoot your shot when you see him?”

Chastity rolled her eyes and huffed. “You know I can’t do that and you know why.”

Shauna merely shrugged. “I know that nigga still loves you. And you still love him. And if you just tell him what happened, which he deserves to know anyway, maybe y’all can get back to where you were. The past is the past, Chas. Don’t let it dictate your shit for the rest of your life.”

Chastity had little time to process Shauna’s words when someone grabbed her gently by the arm. She turned to find Michael standing behind her, a bright grin on his face.

“You made it!”

He handed her a drink, her favorite liquor and mixer inside it. She smiled, “Quite the party you got goin’ here. And you remembered?”

He shrugged. “I remember everything about you, girl. And just like to get the folks together every once and while between projects. Have a good time n shit. You want a tour?” He gestured toward the house.

She instinctively nodded, though she regretted that decision nearly immediately. As she followed him through the downstairs and upstairs, she knew being alone was likely not a good idea for either of them but it seemed her common sense had little power over her legs or voice. Because she used neither to escape the situation. She just followed her heart, and that led her through Michael’s house.

She was in awe of his spot, expansive and beautiful but it still managed to feel like a home. She lost track of the amount of times she commented on how amazing it was by the time they reached his bar upstairs.

“Two bars, you got a problem you wanna talk about??”

She asked jokingly as she sat on one of his barstools in his gaming room. He let out a barking laugh.

“I just like to entertain and this gives me a couple different options. Also hate running around the whole damn house when I want a drink.”

“Totally fair,” she remarked.

“What about you? Got a good spot?”

She nodded. “Yea, yea. A condo downtown in a high rise. It’s not this,” she laughed, “But it’s home.”

Michael sat in the barstool next to her, the pair catching up in the quietness of his upstairs “man cave” while the party raged downstairs. Neither of them paid attention to the time that passed as they talked about their careers and their families, both of them sharing the latest family drama they had to offer. Chastity forgot what it was like to share intimate moments like this with someone, forgot what it was like to laugh this hard with him and joke and be free. The longer she sat there in seclusion with him, the more she missed him. And the more she realized how she never stopped missing him, how her love for him never truly faded, she just tucked it away where it could not bother her anymore. And the more she wondered if her best friend’s words held some truth.

“That’s hilarious… he sounds adorable, I’m glad they are doing good,” Chastity offered as Michael showed her a funny video of his nephew. “You were always excellent with kids so I know you're having a ball.”

He nodded. “I really am. He's great.”

The conversation lulled for a moment, Michael staring at her for a moment before he added. “I’m really happy you came. I fuckin’ missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

The pair locked eyes for a moment, years of pining and unsaid feelings passing between them. Chastity had not looked in his eyes for years and yet they held the same thing they did back then: immense love and adoration. Love and adoration she did not know if she still deserved from him.

“U-Um, I should go,” she whispered, her eyes falling to her lap. “Find the girls.”

She started to walk toward the door until she felt his hand grab hers. In one swift motion, he pulled her into his embrace, his lips crashing onto hers. She moaned as he kissed her roughly, her back hitting the wall. His lips searched for every inch of available skin to kiss and taste, both of them seeking a feeling that they had gone without for far too long.

However, Chastity knew she could not let this go down the road it was headed without telling him the truth.

“Michael,” she pressed her hand to his chest, breaking away from his kiss. It was not that she did not want it. She did, desperately so. However, if that kiss signified a second chance for them, she could not pursue it until he knew the full story, their full story. And if she did not do it now, she would never have the courage to do it again.

“I-I’m sorry. I s-shouldn’t have done that. I-It’s just…”

She shook her head, “No, no. I-I want it. I want you.” Their foreheads pressed against each other’s for a moment. “But before we… I need to tell you something. Something that happened after we broke up.”

Michael took a step back, his anxiety immediately spiraling as he took in the look of pain and sorrow on her face. Similar to his love for her, his care for her as a person and her safety had not diminished either.

“W-what happened?”

Chastity wiped a stray tear that fell from her eyes. She never liked to think about it, the cramping that woke her up in the middle of the night, the fear that tore the sound and words out of her voice as she tried to call a friend to take her to the ER, the panic that dug its claws into her soul on the ride there, the sharp rollercoaster of shock and grief when she found out in a span of 5 minutes that she had been pregnant and lost their baby.

She thought about calling Michael in the days after. She knew he would come if she called, knew he would support her and help her heal. She laid in bed and cycled between sobbing and staring at his name in her phone contemplating whether to hit the call button. But each time she came close, she always stopped herself. She knew he would come and if he did, she would never truly move on. She was still heartbroken on top of everything else, still yearned for him above all else. And she knew she needed to learn how to stand and heal on her own. And she decided it was unfair to drop this trauma on him when there was nothing that could be done. She may have had to live with the pain, but he did not have to too.

She wiped a tear from her cheek. She had rarely spoken about the miscarriage, it had always been too painful. It was a period of her life she desired to forget.

“Ummm… about two months after we broke up, I w-woke up one night in p-pain. L-Like nothing I had ever felt. Went to the ER and… I w-was pregnant.”

His eyes grew wide. “P-pregnant?” He could not hide the shock in his voice. Though when he thought back to it, it made sense. In the weeks leading up to the breakup, he recalled her complaining of nausea and fatigue. They both assumed it was the stress of her school work. “W-why didn’t you t-tell me?”

She shook her head. “T-there was nothing to tell. W-when I got to the ER that night, they told me I was pregnant… and that I m-miscarried.”

Michael could not stop the tears that flowed like rivers down his face. He did not know how he could grieve a life he did not know existed and never met. But he felt it, waves of it crashing over him as he looked at her. They had talked about kids back then, even at their young age. How many, what they would look like, which of them they would be more like. Sure it was all talk, but a future they both had seen so clearly with each other, that it had felt real.

And now, he knew that they had created something together and their breakup had cost them that. He also felt guilt, wondering if his inability to make their relationship work had led to this outcome. And that felt worse than any physical wound he had ever experienced, it was a searing pain he could not escape from.

“W-was it the b-break up?” He asked quietly, his guilt clear in his voice.

Chastity immediately shook her head, rushing up to him and pulling him in an embrace. She leaned back and held his head in her hands, her thumb wiping away his tears. She hated that he felt guilty, this was one of the many reasons she chose to keep this to herself for so long. She did not find it fair transfer this pain onto him, particularly so many years later.

“No. Listen to me. Th-this was no one’s fault, I promise you. T-the doctors said it c-could’ve been anything. The stress from finals o-or nothing to do with any of that at all. It just happens a-and there isn't really anything you can do, they said.”

He nodded. “A-are you ok?” His hands went to her waist, holding onto her.

She smiled and nodded. “Y-yea, yea. The weeks after were the hardest but over time… it’s gotten better. A-and the doctors said it won’t affect any long-term fertility so I guess that’s good?” She mumbled. “I-It was hard… doing it alone though. I wanted to call you so many times, Michael,” she whispered, her head thudding into his chest. His hands rubbed soothing circles in her back. “I-I just knew I wouldn’t be able to let you go a second time if I let you back in, even when I really needed you. S-So I dealt with it alone. It w-was h-hard. A-and I’m sorry I never told you. A-and am just dropping it on you like this. I-I just think you needed to know if we were gonna…” her words trailed off but Michael did not need her to finish the sentence, he knew what she meant.

Michael tightened his arms around her. “Nah, I-I’m sorry I couldn’t be there for you. You shouldn’t’ve gone through that alone." He pressed a teary kiss to her forehead. “I-I love you so much. I never stopped loving you, Chas. D-don’t think I ever will.”

“I never stopped loving you either,” she whispered.

Michael held her for a few more minutes before her phone started to buzz.

“Y-You should answer those, it’s probably your girls thinkin’ I kidnapped you,” he joked, cutting some of the more serious tension in the room.

“Y-yea I should let them know I’m good.”

She shot off a few texts before turning back to him. “S-sorry, they were just reminding me we made dinner reservations. I-I should go.”

Her heart almost broke at the disappointed look on his face. However, before she left, he reached out for her hand.

“I know this might be a lot to ask a-and we have a lot to talk about but… stay? I want us back, Chas. There'll never be another woman like you out there for me. You're it. Stay. Please”

Chastity stared at him for a moment, before texting her friends.

Head to dinner without me. I’ll be good here.

She then turned her phone off and slid it into her back pocket. She giggled as Michael pulled her back to his embrace.

“So we really gonna do this again?” She asked, stifling a small moan as he kissed and sucked on the soft skin of her neck, immediately going to a sensitive spot there that he knew drove her wild.

“Hell yea. And it’ll be better than it ever was.”

“Yea, it will.”

Fin.

A/N: ahhh my first request for MBJ. Such a fun prompt for me too! Not sure how many I can reasonably do lol but I liked it so I will keep doing the occasional one if you're interested/have a prompt! Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you want to be tagged in MBJ fics!

#black writers #michael b jordan #michael b jordan x oc #mbjordanedit #michael b jordan x reader #creed 3 #black panther #adonis creed #michael b jordan fanfic #creed iii

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