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tongue-like-a-razor · 4 months

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Brother's Best Friend - Part 11

Jake Seresin x F!Reader

A/N: Fair warning: I didn't have much time this week so this was a bit rushed and definitely not my best piece of work, but I really wanted to do at least *something* for the holidays!

Summary: The trials and tribulations of falling for your brother's best friend.

CW: New Years Eve party, banter, fluff fluff fluff

WC: ~2300

Part 1 | Masterlist

“So,” Bradley starts slowly, drawing out a suspenseful silence with a smirk as he butters his toast. “I met study group guy.”

You look up from your plate in alarm, your fork halfway to your mouth, and awkwardly meet your brother’s gaze.

Jake, who’s just set his food down to your left, picks his coffee back up, ready to make a quick exit.

“Uh, where?” you ask, trying to sound casual, but you’re so nervous that your voice wavers.

“Here,” Bradley replies with a grin as he makes his way to the table. “He came by to see how your exam went.”

“Oh?” You gulp anxiously.

“How considerate of him,” Jake notes moodily, setting his coffee back down and giving you a look.

“I agree.” Bradley sits down. “I think he wanted to compare study strategies,” he continues, then clears his throat. “Since the two of you didn’t end up studying together.”

Jake’s eyes go wide as he lets out a feigned gasp. “You didn’t?”

You give Jake an annoyed look and then glance back at your brother who is watching you with a pair of raised eyebrows. “Yeah,” you nod, “about that. Umm, the thing is…”

“You lied?” Jake brings a hand to his chest as though this revelation continues to shock him.

You glare at him irritably. “Partly.”

“Which part?” Bradley enquires, biting into his toast.

You sigh. “The part about study group guy.”

Bradley grimaces. “Why?”

“Yeah,” Jake chimes in, finally taking a seat. “Why?”

“Because I obviously made the wrong decision studying at home,” you retort, eyeing Jake bitterly. “And I just needed somebody to blame.”

Jake watches you cautiously, likely wondering if you indeed think you’ve made a mistake. Good.

“So, you bombed your midterm, big deal.” Bradley waves a hand. “We wouldn’t judge you. Guess that means he won’t be attending tonight’s party.”

You purse your lips. “Nope,” you confirm. “I’ll be all alone.”

Jake tries to catch your gaze as you rise from the table. “We’ll be here.”

“Aren’t you gonna bring your girl?” Bradley asks.

“Nah.” Jake waves a hand.

“Why not?”

Jake eyes you pointedly. “Not really sure where we stand, to be honest.”

You gasp theatrically. “Oh dear! Trouble in paradise?”

Jake throws you a flat look and grumbles, “Well, she’s sort of hard to read at times.”

“Because you’re illiterate?” you retort.

Bradley snorts while Jake scoffs in offence. “Dump her!” Bradley cries as you bring your dishes to the sink. “Life’s too short for mysteries.”

Jake sighs. “She does love to keep me guessing.”

Bradley shakes his head in disapproval after taking his last bite. “She’s playing games with you, man. It’s not worth it.” He gets up and follows you to the sink. “How ‘bout you? You need a date for tonight?”

“Huh?” you say in surprise, having been under the impression that your turn under the microscope was over.

“Remember that dude you met at the Hard Deck last summer? The one you said was ‘so hot’” – Bradley visibly shudders – “I just found out that he’s into you.”

“What dude?” Jake asks abruptly, his posture instantly going rigid.

“The one from 22,” Bradley clarifies. “The backseater. Forgot his name.”

“The douche from Michigan?” Jake makes a face and quickly rises from the table. “You think he’s hot?” he asks you incredulously.

Before you have a chance to respond, Bradley continues. “Apparently he ran into you last week at the café?”

You blink between Bradley and Jake as the latter approaches. While it’s true that you saw one of Bradley’s colleagues the previous week, you’ve since forgotten all about that encounter, because the very next day was when Jake had finally made his move. You start to back out of the kitchen but both Bradley and Jake follow you out. “I have some errands to run,” you say quickly.

“Nothing’s open,” Jake reminds you.

“Do you want me to invite him tonight or not?” Bradley asks, already scrolling through his contacts.

Jake elbows Bradley aggressively. “You’re seriously trying to get your sister laid?”

Bradley cringes. “Dude! Don’t go there!”

Jake stares at Bradley. “What do you think is gonna happen?”

You scoff at Jake incredulously. “Excuse me?”

Jake turns to look at you and places his hands on his hips with an impatient exhale. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“I just don’t want her to be alone on New Years!” Bradley exclaims, still looking down at his phone.

“She’s not gonna be!” Jake cries desperately.

“I don’t want the date, Bradley,” you say, putting on your shoes despite having absolutely nowhere to go.

“Why not?” Bradley enquires.

“I just don’t. I’m fine with being alone.”

“You won’t be alone,” Jake repeats, the frustration in his voice noticeably mounting.

“I thought you liked him,” Bradley says, slightly deflated. Clearly, he assumed that he was doing you a favor.

“I don’t even know him,” you say. “I just thought he was good-looking, that’s all.”

Jake makes a face. “He’s not.”

You roll your eyes. “Appearance is subjective.”

Jake stubbornly shakes his head but makes no further comment.

“Okay, so why not give him a chance?” Bradley presses. “It’s not like you’re seeing someone. Right?”

You give Jake a quick glance before conducting a thorough examination of your own shoes. “Well, kind of.”

“Kind of?” Jake asks, slightly panicked.

You continue studying your feet. “I think.”

“Who is he? What’s he like?” Bradley asks.

“Uh,” you stall, “he’s alright.”

Jake lets out a muffled cry. “Alright?” he asks and you try not to wince at his utterly obvious outrage.

Meanwhile, Bradley raises an eyebrow. “Wow,” he says wryly. “Sounds promising.”

“What else?” Jake says quickly.

You look up at him in disbelief. “Occasionally aggravating.”

Bradley appears puzzled. “Why are you with this guy?”

Jake squares his shoulders. “He must be extremely handsome.”

Bradley looks back at you. “Is he?”

You roll your eyes. “He’s cute.”

“Cute?!” Jake exclaims.

Bradley laughs. “I really think you should give my guy a try.”

Jake crosses his arms over his chest and stands up taller. “I’m sure there’s more to this guy than just… his looks.” He’s blatantly searching your face now, as if Bradley isn’t even present.

You start to nervously fix your hair in the mirror at the front door. “I’m not interested in your guy, Bradley.”

“Why not?”

“Because…” You sigh resignedly while Jake watches your reflection. “I… I like my guy.”

Jake stares at your face in the mirror as if this is news to him. Then, his mouth slips momentarily into a smile before he sucks in his cheeks to hide it.

Bradley grimaces. “Why?”

“Because, he’s…” another reluctant sigh, “…he’s a good guy.”

“That’s kind of vague,” Jake comments, still trying to suppress a grin.

You shoot him a glare while Bradley chuckles. Then, he says, “Alright, fine. Maybe in a couple of weeks when you’re single again.”

Jake looks at Bradley sharply. “Why would she be single again?”

“Come on, when was the last time my sister liked a guy enough to stay with him long-term? She finds something wrong with everyone she dates.”

Jake shifts his weight uncomfortably. “Maybe this one will stick.”

“Doubt it.” Bradley shrugs.

“This one’s different, Bradley,” you say quietly, turning to face them again.

Jake looks back at you. “He is?”

“How so?” Bradley asks.

You pause, hesitant to reveal the truth. “He… makes me feel…”

Bradley watches you dubiously. “Pretty?”

Jake also takes a stab: “Aroused?”

You let out a weary sigh and lock eyes with Jake. “Safe.”

He stares at you with a stunned expression while Bradley nods approvingly.

“Happy,” you continue.

This time, Jake doesn’t hide his smile, but Bradley raises his eyebrows as though your response has surprised him.

“Strong,” you say.

“Wow,” Bradley mutters.

Jake lowers his gaze with a grin, but you decide to add, “And aroused, I mean –”

“Oh god!” Bradley exclaims.

Jake chuckles, glancing up at you again.

Bradley shakes his head. “I get it, you’re in love. But, Seresin – I just remembered: I’ve got the perfect girl for you!” He holds up his phone, beaming.

…

Bradley decides to invite the perfect girl just in case because he can see how much his dear friend has suffered at the hands of his mysterious lover. And the perfect girl just happens to be Jake Seresin’s exact type. You try to ignore her flirtatious behavior while Bradley all but pushes Jake in her direction. Your brother seems so keen to set Jake up, you start to wonder what his vested interest might be.

There are enough people in attendance that you can watch Jake without worrying about anyone noticing that you’re staring. So, you pour yourself a fourth martini and head back into the living room to see what your brother’s best friend is up to. You barely make it past the couch, however, when someone you’ve only met once in your life takes your hand and starts encouraging you to spin under his arm.

You glance over at Jake, whose date is also trying to get him to dance. Taking a sizeable gulp of your drink, you follow through with the spin and smile uncomfortably at your new dance partner. The room is bustling because the ball is about to drop and everyone has gathered for the countdown, so you’re forced to crane your neck every so often in order to check on Jake.

He notices your new friend right away, locking eyes with you despite his own supposed date trying to monopolize his attention. You wish you could steal a moment with him when the new year arrives, but Bradley would notice his friend’s absence in a heartbeat considering he’s been tailing Jake all night, making sure that he was having a good time.

When the champagne flutes start making their rounds and the crowd erupts in an enthusiastic countdown, however, Jake separates from his friends and starts making his way through the bodies toward you. He nods his head in the direction of the hall before he’s even come near you, inviting you to join him. But you glance back at Bradley and see that he is already searching for Jake in the crowd that’s suddenly doubled in size as everyone has made their way into the living room.

You shake your head at Jake regrettably. The last thing you need is for the year to start with Bradley walking in on the two of you making out.

Jake gestures more vigorously with his head, urging you to follow and, when you refuse, he moves closer and reaches out to grab your hand. You don’t resist when he pulls you in and, before you can check to see if Bradley has finally given up his search, the clock strikes midnight, and Jake takes your face in his hands and kisses you right there in the middle of the living room amidst the explosion of cheers that welcome the new year.

You hope there is enough commotion in your vicinity to obscure the way Jake’s hands slide sensually down to your neck and then take your shoulders as he steers you through the crowd out of the room, his lips avidly devouring yours the entire time. Somehow, the two of you make it out without even looking up and, once you’re more or less alone, Jake mutters, “Your brother is getting real fucking annoying.”

You chuckle as he plants kisses along your jawline. The two of you are still moving through the house, into the darkness of the entry hall. “He’s been extra involved today,” you agree.

“He’s been fucking annoying,” Jake repeats, sucking on the side of your neck as you come to a halt in the foyer and he wraps his arms around you.

“He’s your best friend,” you remind him.

Jake presses you gently against the front door and licks your earlobe, whispering, “Who the fuck were you dancing with?” You giggle and feel his lips spread into a smile against your skin. “Oh, you think that’s funny?” he asks, and you feel his tongue on your ear again. “You think it’s funny that I had to actively restrain myself from socking him?”

“What about you?” you say, still laughing. “You were with that girl all night!”

Jake whimpers into your neck and his hold on you tightens. “All I wanted was this.” You close your eyes when his mouth finds yours once more. “My new year’s resolution is that I’m never gonna stop kissing you,” he mutters between pecks to your lips.

You giggle again and then sigh, slightly pushing him away. “What are we going to do?”

“I just told you what I’m going to do,” he says, going in for another kiss.

You turn your head and he ends up kissing your cheek. “This is how we’re going to spend the new year? Sneaking around? Hiding in dark corners?”

Jake exhales slowly, resting his forehead on your temple. “I’m going to tell him,” he assures you.

“What are you going to tell him?” you ask, hoping that this question might lead Jake to reveal the nature of your relationship as he sees it.

He leans away from you and looks you in the eye. “That I make you feel aroused, of course.” Your jaw drops in outrage and you let out a yelp that quickly turns into a cackle. Jake is grinning widely, pleased with the effectiveness of his joke. Then, he draws you closer and his face changes shape. He squares his jaw and you see the evidence of a nervous gulp in the bob of his Adam’s apple. “I’m gonna tell him that you’re the girl I told him about,” he says, his tone low but steady. You gaze at him in silence, afraid to move a muscle lest he reconsider the sudden sincerity of his words. “The one I can’t stop talking about.” He swallows again. “The one I’ve been obsessing over.” He pauses to study your reaction as though he’s afraid he might be scaring you off. “The one that I – uh” – he takes a deep breath and then lets out a chuckle, shaking his head. He takes your hands in his and weaves his fingers through yours, tugging you forward until his lips connect with the tip of your nose. “Oh god, Baby B,” he says, leaning into you affectionately. “I should probably stop talking now.”

*That's all folks! Happy New Year!*

Read Part 12

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youunravelme · 10 months

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the worst wing-woman

author's note: just like all my other fics, we are existing in an alternate plane where tito was never traded. also i've never worked for the nhl, so i have no idea how accurate being a photographer is but guess what. idgaf. also sorry for the amount of italics in this fic, i have no self control apparently. and shoutout to my new friend @dani746 for helping me with this monstrosity.

summary: you've been in love with mat barzal for as long as you can remember, so what do you do when he asks for your help to win over your friend?

pairing: mat barzal x islanders photographer!reader

warnings: cursing and low self esteem

despite working for the isles for two years now, you still got nervous walking into work.

you weren't a stranger to the team, some of them you knew quite well. anders and marty being two players you were friendly with (mainly due to the fact that you were somewhat friendly with their wives). but there was always one player who eluded you, who you'd only ever had professional interactions with.

mathew barzal.

and it shouldn't be surprising, you were a measly photographer whereas he was the star player of his team, the winner of the calder trophy, an nhl heartthrob. why should he pay attention to you?

media day was one of your favorite days, mainly because it was the closest you ever got to holding full conversations with him. not that the conversations went anything beyond "look right here" or "great job, mat."

you didn't even think he knew your name.

the longest conversation you had with him consisted of him asking to see the photos you took and patting you on your back when he liked what he saw before he went off to talk to tito.

"you having a good day?" you nearly jumped a foot in the air when your staring was cut off by anders walking up to you.

"yeah," you said when your heartbeat returned to normal. "just busy is all." you held your camera up as if that was enough of an explanation.

anders nodded. "any of the boys giving you a hard time?"

you shook your head rapidly. "nope, they've all been on their best behavior."

"even barzy and beauvillier?" at the mention of their names, the duo turned their heads and locked eyes with you and anders.

you wanted to dig a hole and die in it.

"what about us?" mat asked, sauntering over with his best friend right behind him.

"you haven't been giving her a hard time, have you?" anders crossed his arms. and if you weren't panicking at the closing distance between you and mat, you might've noticed the shared smirk between the three hockey players in front of you.

"us?" tito asked. "why would you think that? we've only ever been angels."

before anders could ask you to corroborate tito's story, your name was called. you awkwardly waved to the three men before walking over to another set of props, ready to photograph another hockey player.

"done embarrassing yourself?" your coworker tyler asked.

you lightly shoved his shoulder. "shut up."

"seriously, you're not his type," he added. "he's not gonna go for you."

tyler might as well have stabbed you in the gut with how much his words hurt you, but you put a smile on and nodded. "yeah, i know. i know."

and you did.

you knew.

but you'd be delusional for a little while longer if it meant going to work wouldn't suck every day.

later that night, you found yourself at a bar with a group of your friends. you didn't want to go originally, but when alexa said she needed to go out to get over her ex, you felt like you had no other choice.

which is how you found yourself sipping a soda water in a booth while your friends danced and took body shots.

your gaze wandered around the bar aimlessly before you checked your phone for the time.

you'd only been there for an hour.

it took all self restraint not to bang your head against the table.

"having fun?" your head snapped up at the familiar voice only to see anthony beauvillier standing at the edge of your booth with a self satisfied smirk.

"i--"

"i didn't take you as one to go out drinking on a weeknight," he said.

you slumped into your seat. "i'm not. my friend alexa wanted to go out because her boyfriend just dumped her and she wanted a distraction."

anthony took the seat opposite of you. "and that is...?" he gestured at your drink.

"soda water," you answered. "i'm the DD for tonight."

"oof," he groaned before taking a sip of his beer. "that's rough."

you shrugged. "it's not that bad, i'd rather my friends get home safe than get drunk and show up to work hungover."

anthony nodded in a way that you'd seen other men do, the type of nod that comes right before someone looks around for someone more interesting to talk to.

"but what about you?" you rushed out, nearly tripping over your own words.

tito smiled. "what about me?"

"why're you here?"

he shrugged. "mat wanted to come out and didn't want to go out alone, so here i am."

mat.

you wanted to vomit.

"oh," you mumbled. "mat's here?"

tito nodded and gestured with his bottle to the bar. "he's over there talking to some brunette."

you followed with your eyes and when you finally locked eyes on him, you wished you hadn't.

he was talking to alexa, smiling at her the way you wished he'd smile at you.

maybe you could leave the bar and get hit by a taxi on the way out, that would be less painful than seeing the man you're in love with flirt with your friend.

"you okay?" anthony asked, nudging your leg with his foot.

you turned your gaze back to him and attempted to give him your most convincing smile. "i'm great!" you said before throwing your soda water back and coughing when the carbonation burned.

anthony didn't say a word.

when you looked back at the bar, alexa was nowhere to be found while mat was fiddling with one of his wristbands. you looked around to find alexa, thinking maybe she was in the crowd dancing or perhaps she was in line for the bathroom.

but she popped up at your table, sweaty and smiling.

"you good?" she asked before fixing her eyes on anthony who was sipping on his beer. "who's this?"

"anthony. i know him from work." tito gave her a small wave before taking another sip of his beer.

"alexa," she smiled before her attention focused back on you. "i actually met one of your coworkers, mat right?"

you forced a smile and nodded. "the one and only. what did you think?" though, to be fair, you didn't really want to know her opinion on him. not when you thought the world of him.

alexa shrugged and tossed her perfect hair over her perfect shoulder and gave a perfect smile that was a healthy balance of nonchalant and mildly interested. "he was alright, he knows he's attractive which is rather unattractive if you ask me."

tito choked on his beer while you stared in awe.

of all the words you'd use to describe mat, "alright" was not even close to the top 25.

"something funny?" alexa asked.

"nope," tito supplied, shaking his head. "nothing at all."

alexa looked at him, unconvinced, but didn't let it bother her. "i'm gonna go dance, you coming?" she asked.

you shook your head. "not really my scene."

alexa nodded and pranced off to the dance floor where the rest of your friends were grinding on strangers to the tune of some 2000s pop song.

"she's a delight," tito said.

you sighed. "she's practically miss america." you were too busy staring at her having fun to notice another person walk up to your booth until he was standing right in front of you with a question posed on the tip of his lips.

mat.

your mouth went dry at the sight of him.

"you know her?" he gestured over his shoulder to where alexa was laughing with one of your friends.

you nodded.

"are you two close?"

you shrugged.

mat sighed. "are you capable of speaking?"

tito spoke up. "mat, you just bombarded her without a single hello, chill."

mat pinched the bridge of his nose. "sorry, i just--she rejected me and i don't know why."

"you're too attractive and you know it," you blurted out before you could stop yourself. you quickly slapped a hand over your mouth like that would stop any other bullshit that might come out.

mat tilted his head and leaned in. "huh?"

"her words, not mine," you said like it would absolve you of any guilt.

"what do you mean by being 'too attractive' and 'knowing it'? how does that even make sense?"

you shrugged for what felt like the twelfth time that night. "alexa's not really into guys who are obsessed with their appearances. she just got out of a relationship with a guy like that," you explained.

mat ran a hand down his face before placing both hands on his waist. "so what do you suggest i do?" he groaned.

"i--"

he snapped his fingers and looked at you for what felt like the first time. it sent a chill down your spine that you had a problem suppressing. "can you help me?"

your mouth dropped open. "huh?"

"you're friends, right? can you help me win her over?"

you could list about a thousand other things you'd rather do. you could think of five just off the top of your head.

but he looked so earnest and willing and how could anyone possibly resist him when he looked at you like that--

"of course!" you smiled.

of course?! yes would've sufficed but now you've got him thinking you'd enjoy this. which you most certainly wouldn't.

oh who were you kidding? all attention was good attention when it came to mat barzal and you'd give anything to keep him looking at you.

"thank you!" he smiled before clapping tito on the shoulder. "ready to head out?"

anthony nodded before addressing you. "i had a nice time. see you tomorrow?"

you smiled and nodded, giving them both a small wave as they walked away. the second they were out the door, you thumped your head against the table.

playing wing-woman for mathew barzal.

what the fuck was wrong with you?

how to be a wing-woman: a guide

usually when you went to work, you kept your head down and stayed out of the way. occasionally, you'd run into anders or marty, or maybe even tito, who would say their polite hellos, but for the most part you stayed out of the way during practices.

you were looking at the photos you just took when someone banged on the glass. a quick glance (that turned into a double take) let you figure out it was mat based on the 13 on his jersey and the fact that you could pick him out of a crowd anywhere.

he waved and smiled (and you might've died inside). "can i talk to you after practice?"

you nodded frantically before gaining a semblance of self respect and slowing down.

"great! meet you outside of the locker rooms!" he said before skating away.

"what was that about?" tyler asked. you turned, not even realizing he'd made his way towards you considering you thought he was on the other side of the arena.

"what? can't i talk to the players?"

tyler laughed. actually laughed. "considering barzal has never so much as looked at you, i'd say him approaching you during practice is pretty strange."

your shoulders sunk at the weight of the truth. "if you must know," you started. "he wants to date one of my friends, so i'm helping him out."

tyler laughed again and walked away without saying another word while you scrolled through the photos you took again until practice ended.

you headed towards the locker rooms only when the last player had been off the ice for ten minutes, you didn't want to chance waiting around too long looking like an idiot.

as you waited, you made a mental note of all the editing you'd have to do when you got back to your cubicle. you got a few good shots earlier, but they'd need some tweaking before you sent them to the social media team. in fact--

"hey, what're you doing here?" you glanced up and saw anders, hair wet from whatever brief shower he took.

you shrugged, not sure if it was your place to give away mat's intentions. "just waiting around."

"for?" he pushed.

"barzy needs her to play wing-woman," tito said from over anders' shoulders. "he wants to get with her friend, but her friend isn't interested."

anders threw his head back and laughed. "barzy not getting a girl? that's fucking hilarious."

tito smirked. "tell him what your friend said" he told you.

"she doesn't like that he knows he's attractive," you mumbled.

if it was even possible, anders laughed even louder. "un-fucking-believable."

"what's so funny?" mat walked up, running a hand through his damp hair.

you said "nothing" at the same time anders asked "you got rejected, barzy?"

mat's face dropped before looking at you and tito accusingly. anthony sighed and nudged his best friend. "chill out, barz. she didn't bring it up, i did."

mat's shoulders relaxed before he punched tito in the arm. "dick," he mumbled.

anders looked between the three of you and sighed. "i don't have time for this shit," he said. "i'll see you later." and he was off down the hallway.

"so what's the plan for today?" tito asked.

"you're not included," mat said. his gaze focused on you. "can i have your number?"

you blinked. "what?"

mat laughed a little and you could feel heat and shame running up your spine. he asked you one fucking question and you had to go act like a weirdo. "so i can text you? i think we should sit down and create a strategy."

you nodded and read off your number as he typed it into his phone. "great," he gave you his megawatt smile. "i'll text you."

"okay," you breathed out as he walked away without a thought.

tito kept standing there, smirking to himself. "you're so fucked," he said.

you nodded because there was nothing else to say.

step one: talk him up

you and mat got lunch two days later on a saturday when he didn't have a game. it was rather surreal, sitting across from him in public. the delusional part of you was begging you to imagine this as a date instead of a meeting to set your friend up with mat.

when did your life turn into something so pathetic?

"okay," he started. "tell me about your friend."

you would rather do anything else.

"she just got out of a long term relationship with this guy named jared. he was a bit self absorbed which is probably why she didn't like you knowing how hot you are." you paused as the words left your mouth, ready to set yourself on fire if he reacted. but he didn't, he only leaned in closer to listen. "she uh--she likes daffodils and goes to the farmer's market at union square every saturday."

"but what's she like?" he asked. "what's her personality?"

how would you say she's the trademarked cool girl? the girl every guy wanted, that mat was one man in a long list of men who tried and failed to win her over.

"she's sweet and affectionate," you started. "she pretty girly on the outside but knows her way around a car. she grew up with three older brothers so she knows a fair bit about sports, just not hockey, but if you wanted to talk stats about football or basketball, she's your girl. in college, she held the record for fastest shotgun in her sorority."

you racked your brain for more information about your friend, but it was difficult under pressure to sum up someone you'd known since freshman year of college.

"what else?" mat asked.

"she's a bit of a partier, but knows how to settle down and just chill. she's a really good friend, like last year i dated this guy who was cheating on me the entire duration of our relationship, which i should've known about because he said he had to go on business trips all the time but he worked as a barista, and she held me while i cried for three days straight and even threatened to fuck up his car."

mat stared at you without saying anything in a way that made you want to sink into a hole, never to be seen again. "you dated a barista and thought he needed to go on business trips?"

you blinked. "that's what you got from that? me dating a shitty barista?"

he shrugged. "i heard everything else, but that was definitely the funniest part. how long did you date him?"

"six months," you replied quickly. "but that's not the point! alexa is going to play hard to get because she doesn't want anything too serious right now."

"great! neither do i!"

"but she's not a one night stand kind of girl anymore. so if you want her, you have to prove to her you can be serious enough for a relationship but not serious enough that you get clingy and overbearing and propose within six months."

mat blinked at you. "how the hell does that make sense?"

"believe me, there's a balance."

he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "and you would know this how?"

"well i uh--" you sputtered. your nerves were only encouraged by his light chuckling. "all girls know these things! we don't want overly possessive boyfriends but we also want someone to care. it shouldn't be that hard to comprehend."

"it's not," he defended. "just a little...complicated, don't you think?"

"alexa's a complicated girl!"

he sighed and ran a hand down his face. "okay so how do i show her i mean business but that i'm not looking to settle down and get married?"

"i guess i could talk you up to her in passing conversation?"

"what would you tell her? we don't know each other very well."

"i know more than you think!"

"please, share with the class."

shit.

do you confess that in the two years you'd worked for the islanders that you watched him borderline obsessively?

"well, i know you're good with kids, if your interactions with young fans is anything to go by. you don't like dogs, which is a bit of a red flag in my book, but alexa shouldn't mind. you're a fantastic hockey player, and a great teammate."

"is that enough to convince her?"

you grimaced and shook your head. "she's a bit more personable. she one time broke up with a guy because he was rude to waitstaff. she would want to know how you treat non millionaires and authority figures. for instance, how much do you tip a server?"

"25%," he replied. "but why does that matter?"

"alexa used to be a server throughout college and couldn't stand people who she knew had money but would cheap out on the tip because she didn't greet them fast enough."

mat opened his mouth, presumably to ask another question, when his phone started ringing. "shit," he mumbled. "listen, i gotta go. it was nice talking to you, i'll be in touch." he pulled out a few twenty dollar bills and put them on the table before getting up and walking away.

you waited for the server to come back before paying the bill and told them to keep the change before you got up and walked home.

when you got back to your apartment, alexa was already standing at the door, waiting to be let in.

"finally," she said. "i was wondering when you were gonna come home."

"you could've texted me," you said while unlocking the door.

she followed you inside and shut the door behind her. "i could've, but your phone was on do not disturb for some reason, so i doubt my texts would've gone through in time. where were you anyway?"

"getting lunch with a friend from work," you replied.

alexa groaned as she all but collapsed onto your couch. "please tell me it's not tyler. i hate how he treats you."

you dropped your bag by the door and headed back to your room, but not before calling over your shoulder. "he's not that bad, he's like that to everyone!"

"doesn't make it any better!"

you changed into some comfortable clothing before joining alexa on your couch. "did you have fun the other night when we went out to the bar?"

alexa looked at you weirdly.

shit. you must not have been as subtle as you thought.

"i did," she said. "but what makes you ask."

you shrugged. "i know it's been rough with your breakup lately, but i saw you talking to mat and you looked happy."

alexa groaned and sunk into the couch. "i thought we talked about this already. he knows he's attractive, it's such a turn off. you should've seen the way he was talking, it was like he knew that if he gave me a look, i'd be going home with him."

"well he's really nice, i promise! you should see him with kids at the stadium--"

"you mean the kids who idolize him? yeah i bet he's real nice to them."

okay, switch strategies.

"he tips waitstaff really well!"

"with what he makes? he better." alexa sighed. "listen, i'd be more impressed if he could tell me anything about you, but seeing as you've worked there for two years and he couldn't tell me anything other than your name the other night says all i need to know about him. so can we talk about something else?"

you nodded, ignoring the jutting pain in your chest at her words. you knew well enough that mat knew nothing about you, why would he? but to hear it come from the mouth of someone else stung.

getting them together was gonna be harder than you originally thought.

step two: get them interacting

you were dreading the next time you saw mat for the first time in your life. you were in your cubicle editing photos from the game that night to be posted tomorrow to distract yourself from the inevitable conversation you'd have to have with him. tyler, unfortunately got the shot that was posted immediately to the islanders' instagram account to celebrate their win over the rangers and he had no problem letting you know it. and while it was annoying, it served as a great distraction from your other problem.

"maybe you'll get it next time," he sneered as he packed his bag. most days you hated the fact that you were cubicle neighbors, but neither of you were powerful enough to request moving spaces. and even if you could, you knew it would just make you look hard to work with.

"have a good night, tyler," you replied, not even wanting to give him any ammo to use against you.

the door shut behind him with a click, locking you into sweet sweet silence.

until a minute later when your phone went off with a text message.

mat barzal: where ru?

mat barzal: wanna go to a bar with me and tito and you can bring alexa?

you scoffed. "you can bring alexa," you mocked under your breath. "like that's not the sole reason for you asking me to go out tonight." you packed your bag up and shot a quick text to alexa, asking if she wanted to go out. she replied with an immediate yes, asking where to meet you, which prompted you to reach out to mat who sent you an address in response.

which is how you ended up on a sidewalk in front of an incredibly busy bar with alexa next to you.

"i've never been here," she remarked. "how'd you hear about it?"

"oh, a coworker mentioned it," you said in what was hopefully a nonchalant manner.

she looked at you a moment too long before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. "you find us a place to sit and i'll grab our drinks!" she shouted over the music.

you quickly looked around for mat and tito, the former who'd texted you the second they arrived. you saw a head of dark hair and immediately knew it was mat. you hurried over, panting when you arrived from having to shove your way towards them.

"you made it!" anthony said. you looked at him and mat, eyes bouncing back and forth between them, when you realized your first problem.

they were sitting on opposite sides of the booth.

which meant you would have to sit with one of them, and alexa would have to sit with the other. if mat had it his way, he'd sit next to alexa, but you knew your friend wouldn't have that. she'd feel manipulated and uncomfortable.

"is there a problem?" tito asked.

you gestured to the booth. "alexa will want to sit by me. she's still not convinced about you, mat."

mat, to his credit, didn't look shocked or offended, he just shrugged and moved to tito's side. "this work?" he asked as you sat down.

you nodded.

"so what's the plan? how should i approach this?" he asked.

"keep the conversation on her, when she tries to turn it on you or about your career, focus on other people, applaud your teammates, your coaches, but whatever you do, don't talk about yourself too much. she already thinks you have a big ego."

"to be fair," tito started. "he does."

mat didn't even dignify that with a response. "so keep the conversation on her and others, got it."

alexa found you a moment later and didn't do a great job covering up her disinterest in sitting with mat and beau.

"i couldn't find anywhere to sit," you explained.

alexa didn't buy it if her eyes bouncing around the bar to find empty tables said anything. but she sat next to you anyway, placing your drink in front of you.

"you remember mat and anthony from the other night, right?" you asked.

she just hummed and took a sip of her drink.

"so, alexa," mat started. "what do you do for a living?"

she stared at him and sighed. "i'm a vet tech," she said, but offered no other information.

"she especially loves the cats," you added.

"cats are great!" mat said a little too enthusiastically.

alexa drained the rest of her glass and got up, leaving the three of you behind.

the second she was gone, beau broke into laughter, slapping his own chest. "that was fucking hilarious," he said.

"yeah yeah yeah, laugh it up," mat grumbled, swirling his cup around instead of making eye contact with anyone.

"i'm serious, i don't think i've ever seen you fail so quickly. it's kind of amazing."

mat focused his eyes on you. "what did i do wrong? i tried asking about her life and she seemed wholly uninterested."

you shrugged. "i don't know! maybe she feels cornered?"

tito took a sip of his beer. "i think you need to workshop this. clearly, neither of you thought this through."

you groaned and rested your head on the table.

this was already harder than you anticipated.

step three: reevaluate and regroup

you met mat in a booth of a coffee shop after you got off work. he was staring at his phone when you walked in, completely unaware that you even existed.

which wasn't abnormal considering you didn't even think he knew who you were a few months ago. but the second the barista called your order out, his head whipped up.

you could've sworn time stopped at that moment.

you made your way towards him and plopped down in the booth opposite of him.

"hi," you smiled. "what's up?"

"i don't know what to do, she doesn't seem interested in me." he groaned into his hands before running one of them through his hair.

god he was so attractive.

you snapped out of your reverie. "listen, you've got what it takes, we just need to reevaluate our strategy. i think the bar thing was a bad idea, she felt ambushed and it probably set us back a little, but i have an idea."

he leaned his forearms on the table. "let's hear it."

"practice dates," you said.

mat blinked once. twice. a third time before he spoke. "practice dates?"

"okay hear me out," you said, pulling a notepad out of the bag you brought. "i have a list of things that alexa likes to do and i was thinking, you and i can do them and work on conversations and how to approach her. so when the time comes, you don't feel out of your element."

"who said i feel out of my element?"

you stared at him. "you said last night 'cats are great!' and expected conversation to flow naturally."

"okay so not my best moment."

"not even close." you sighed. "listen, i wanna help you, and i feel like this is your best bet in winning her over."

mat ran a hand down his face. "okay fine. what's the first date?"

practice date one: pumpkin patch

to be quite frank, you were nervous when proposing the idea, scared that he wouldn't be willing to sit in a car with you for three hours just to get to the pumpkin patch. and maybe he would find it childish.

when in fact, he said nothing about the long car ride, he even offered to pick you up from your apartment, and laughed when you offered to pay for gas. when you finally arrived, you jumped out of mat's car like an excited child. mat stepped out like he knew he was the romantic lead in a movie, suave and collected.

you two could not be more opposite of each other.

it took everything in you to focus on the task at hand, and not fall deeper in love with him. but how could you not? when he looked so boyfriend in a coat and flannel and beanie and jeans that hugged his thighs just right--

you were getting ahead of yourself. you were doing this for mat and alexa, not your own selfish ambition.

"so what's the plan?" he asked after locking his car with the key fob.

you shrugged. "what would you do if you were here with alexa?" the words tasted bitter in your mouth. it was such a painful reminder, knowing that this wasn't real and was in service to hook him up with your friend.

mat looked around and shoved his hands in his pockets. "corn maze?" he pointed. you must've made a face because he spoke up again. "what?"

"alexa hates corn mazes."

he paused. "to the pumpkin patch then?" you nodded and followed his lead. "so how did you meet alexa?"

"she was my first roommate in college, we shared the smallest dorm in history."

"that sounds like an exaggeration."

"says the man who never went to college."

he laughed. "i don't need a college education to identify a hyperbole when i hear one."

you gasped and looked at him with wide eyes. "a hyperbole? what a word."

"laugh it up," he said. "but i'm not a complete idiot, you know."

"never said you were. i just haven't heard anyone use hyperbole in a sentence outside of my english lit classes."

"well, you should know i'm full of surprises."

the two of you approached the pumpkin patch and started weaving between families and the occasional rogue toddler. mat had to tug you out of the way a few times when you about stepped on a child because you were gazing at pumpkins.

"if you don't mind me asking," mat started. "why are you helping me? you don't owe me anything. i feel like i'm taking advantage of your kindness."

you shrugged. "you wouldn't be the first one."

"what's that supposed to mean?" you looked up from the pumpkin patch to see mat's brows furrowed together and his mouth twisted in a cute frown.

"well, i mean, i've been told i have a habit of being a doormat at times."

"who said that?" his tone had changed to a softer one.

"huh?" you asked.

"who called you a doormat?"

you shrugged again, that seemed to be your go to move around him. you squatted down to look at a particularly fat pumpkin, inspecting all sides of it before you responded. "i've heard it all my life, some have said it in meaner ways, others have been nicer about it."

"i'm sorry," he said.

you stood to your full height which was still much shorter than mat's. "why? it's not like it's not true."

"what if i helped you?"

it was your turn to frown. "help me? with what? ice skating?"

mat rolled his eyes. "no, with confidence. maybe even get you a date."

you guffawed, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "what?"

mat pulled you out of the way of yet another child and kept his hand on your elbow until you were clear of the pumpkin roots. and if your heart stopped for a few seconds, that was your business, no one else's. "you heard me. you're young, single, and attractive and you spend all your free time at the office or DDing for your friends. we can work on your confidence and get you out there."

"i don't know..." though your mind was still focused on the fact that he'd called you attractive.

"what about that other photographer guy? tony?"

you cackled. straight up burst into laughter. "tyler? that's fucking hilarious mat."

"what?" the two of you continued down the patch, occasionally gazing at the pumpkins, but mostly just talking. "you two are always talking."

talking or being insulted?

you shook your head. "enough about me, we're here for alexa."

mat nudged you with his elbow. "actually we're here for me to win alexa over."

you kicked a small stone with the toe of your shoe and said nothing. the tragedy of your own personal situation wasn't lost on you, neither was the idiocy of your plan. what were you thinking, spending your free time with mat? to win over your friend?

it was textbook self inflicted torture.

"where'd you go?" mat nudged you again. "i lost you there for a second."

you bent down and picked up a smaller pumpkin. "what do you think about this one?"

"it looks fine. you're ignoring my question."

you juggled the pumpkin back and forth in your hands to determine if you liked it or not. "what question?" you looked up just in time to see mat roll his eyes, but he dropped the topic anyway.

the both of you walked over to the stall to pay for the pumpkin. you reached into your tote bag to grab your wallet, but mat was already holding out a five dollar bill to the vendor.

"you didn't have to--"

"do you wanna get some cider?"

you could've started drooling at the idea of drinking cider. "yes!"

mat chuckled and started walking towards the cider stand where a small family waited in front of you. "does alexa like cider?" he asked.

"what a random question."

"well you're not giving me anything to work with!"

you almost groaned. because he was right. you got caught up in the idea of hanging out with mat outside of work that you forgot the real reason both of you were there in the first place.

"she loves cider, especially when it's spiked. she also loves mulled wine." mat scrunched his face up. "not a fan?" you asked.

"warm wine? no thank you."

mat paid for the cider, going as far as having the cash ready before you could even order.

"you really don't have to keep buying things. i can pay!"

"oh this is all a bribe to get you to go through that corn maze with me."

your face dropped. "alexa doesn't like mazes."

"so i won't go with her next time, but you're here now and i wanna go."

you let him drag you along until you were in the thick of the maze. you let him guide the both of you through it like he knew what he was doing even though you were pretty sure you hit every possible dead end in the maze.

two little kids ran past giggling and smiling. "we found the end, mama!"

you almost laughed at the look of irritation on mat's face.

it took an obscene amount of time to get through the maze, and mat was in a much worse mood when it was all over.

needless to say, the ride home was quiet.

practice date 2: dinner at mat's

you weren't quite sure what mat was planning on making for dinner, but you were willing to bet the smell of smoke wasn't a part of the plan.

the scene when you walked into his apartment could only be described as chaotic. the smoke detector was going off and when you walked into the kitchen, mat was going between waving a towel under the detector and opening every window in his kitchen.

"you weren't supposed to be here yet!" he shouted over the noise before darting past you into the living room to open the windows in there.

you dropped your things on the counter and took over waving the towel under the smoke detector.

"what happened?" you asked.

"i suck at cooking!" he came back in the kitchen and took the towel from you. "i'm taller," he said like that was an explanation.

the beeping ceased and left the two of you in a hazy apartment. when you looked around the kitchen, you saw what had to be charred meat and veggies in a skillet.

"okay so when you cook dinner for alexa, don't. just hire a chef."

mat held up his phone. "or order pizza. you in?"

"do i get to financially contribute?"

he gestured to your belongings on the counter, one of which was a bottle of red wine. "you already did."

"you can't keep buying everything," you said. "it's not fair."

"why not? i'm the millionaire here, i'd look like a dick if i made you pay for anything. besides, when i date alexa, it's not like i'm gonna let my girlfriend pay."

girlfriend.

right.

that was the end goal for him.

you kept forgetting.

you cleared your throat and dusted your hands on your pants despite them being clean.

"you can go pick out a movie or something while i order the pizza?" mat suggested.

you had no choice but to nod and wander into his moderately decorated living room. it definitely still looked like a bachelor pad, but if a bachelor had enough money to hire someone to say he needed artwork, decorative pillows, and a couch that wasn't brown.

you were scrolling through netflix when mat came into the living room and plopped on the sectional beside you, shucking his shoes off. why he was wearing shoes in his own apartment was beyond you, but you weren't one to judge.

"you look nice," he commented, as if just noticing you for the first time that night.

you looked down at your own outfit. it was a pair of jeans and a nice blouse. "this?"

"are you wearing something else that i'm not seeing?" he teased.

before you could die of embarrassment, you switched subjects. "what do you want to watch? i haven't made a decision yet." you handed the remote to him, hating being the one to make the decisions.

he shifted on the couch so he was sitting up instead of lounging on the chaise and took the remote. "what's alexa's favorite movie?"

"birdbox."

mat did a double take. "she likes birdbox?"

you shrugged. "she's into suspense."

mat was about to select birdbox until he took one look on your face. you don't know what you looked like but it made him pause. "but are you?"

"why do you care what i like?"

"because you're here, alexa's not. i don't wanna make you watch something you'd hate." mat shifted on the couch. "why don't we work on those dating tips i talked to you about."

"oh i don't think--"

"why not?" he asked. "you're always so jittery whenever we talk about it."

oh.

was he referring to the other day after practice when he saw tyler tormenting you and mat misinterpreted that as flirty banter? mat had come up to you afterwards to give you pointers but you practically ran away.

"it's not that simple, mat."

"i think it is."

you threw your hands up. "well then, by all means you must be right."

"what's with the attitude?" he asked. "did i say something?"

it was a good question. one that shouldn't make you want to cry, but life felt overwhelming in all the worst ways. between tyler harassing you every second of every day and pretending like you weren't in love with mat so you could set him up with your friend, and taking photos for games and practices, you were exhausted.

"i'm not sober enough for this," you said before getting up and popping the cork on the wine bottle and drinking straight from it.

it was another thirty minutes before the pizza arrived and the both of you were well on your way to wine drunk, you more so than mat. who could blame you though? your life was a sad excuse for a single twenty-something and you were tired of thinking about it.

"truth is," mat started with a mouth full of pizza. "you just need to act like you're the best thing that's ever happened to this city. guys love confident women."

"and that's your biggest issue with alexa right now."

"wanna switch personalities?"

you laughed.

"what?" he asked. "what's so funny?"

"i'm trying to picture you without an ego and i don't think it's possible."

mat rolled his eyes but had a smile on his lips anyway. it shouldn't have made your heart pound the way it did, but you were weak for that man, you had been since day one.

so you switched courses.

"okay," you started. "how do i make get a guy to wanna date me?"

mats eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "you're serious?"

you nodded. "as a heart attack."

mat sat up on the couch and faced you. his eyes scanned your face like he was looking for something but couldn't find it. maybe he was looking for a reason to change the subject.

"alright," he said. "you gotta be confident, even if you don't feel like it. most guys don't mind a little insecurity, they find it kinda cute, but a guy who wants an insecure girl is a red flag."

"should i be taking notes or...?" you took a large sip of your wine and smiled when mat rolled his eyes again.

"secondly, you can't be hiding behind your camera all the time."

you guffawed. "i do not hide behind my camera!"

"oh give me a break, you totally do! you walk around like it's a safety blanket or something."

"because it is!"

"exactly my point! thirdly, chivalry isn't dead. if he's not doing basic things like opening doors, walking on the closest side to the street, and he's only talking about himself? run."

"what? he can't be a good person if he doesn't do those things?"

"if he can't do a basic kind gesture, he's not going to do larger ones. sorry. i don't make the rules."

you blinked. "but you kinda are making the rules for me, right now."

"you're such a smart ass, just like tito."

"is that a good or bad thing?"

mat shrugged and took another bite of pizza. "hard to say, i love tito most days."

love.

don't be an idiot and read into things.

"so," mat leaned back into the couch. "i gave you advice, it's my turn. how do i win over alexa?"

you thought back to the conversation you had with her a few weeks ago about mat. and one comment stuck out the most. "i think the biggest sin you committed was not knowing anything about me despite working together for two years," you admitted shyly.

mat's brows furrowed in that cute way they always did. "what do you mean?"

"she said she's not impressed by you being nice to kid fans or tipping waitstaff. she would be impressed if you knew anything about me because i'm not a hockey player."

mat recoiled as if physically struck by your words. "she thinks that low of you?"

"no she didn't mean to say you were--" you paused. "me? you think she has a low opinion of me?"

mat crossed his arms. "she just insinuated that you weren't important enough for me to know."

"no! that's not what she meant! she was saying that you think you're better than me."

"that's not even remotely true." and he said it so confidently, you almost believed him. "it's not, you know that right?"

you hesitated and you might as well have punched him in the gut.

mat said your name so softly like it was precious. like it was something special. "you have to know, i have never, not once, believed you were beneath me."

you gave him a small smile. "you don't need to explain yourself to me, mat."

he reached over and grabbed your hand, tugging on it lightly. "no. i need you to know, you are important to me."

your heart fluttered at his words, or maybe it was the fact that you were holding hands and you could feel the calluses rub against your own palm.

you could've stayed there forever.

"jesus fucking christ, why does it smell like something burned in here?" the front door opened and slammed sending you and mat sprawling apart like you hadn't been locked in a staring contest and holding hands. tito rounded the corner and crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face. "what do we have here?"

"nothing!" you squeaked out. "i was just leaving!"

"no you weren't," mat started, eyes wide with an emotion you couldn't place. "beau was just leaving."

you looked as confused as tito was. "what? no i'm not." you glanced back at mat who could not have looked more annoyed if he tried. "or i can...?"

"no!" you said. "i need to get going anyway. got work tomorrow, long day."

mat stood up when he realized there was no convincing you. "i can walk you out--"

"don't worry about it! i'm a big girl." you were leaving when you heard whisper shouting. you couldn't fully make out what they were saying, but before you shut the front door behind you, you could've sworn you heard them mention "liking her."

you did your best not to let the talking break your heart even more.

practice date 3: ice skating

you made mat pick out the last date but he hadn't told you what it was, just asked for your shoe size.

aside from that?

radio silence.

maybe you should've seen this coming. you'd talked to alexa a few days ago and she'd suggested that maybe you should put yourself out there more, find a date, find a boyfriend, find some happiness.

after practice, you found yourself scrolling through your camera roll in one of the seats in the arena when a pair of skates came into your peripheral. you looked up expecting to see a mop of black hair and hazel eyes.

but it was tito with a sheepish grin on his face.

"hey," he said.

you put your camera down and smiled. it was always good to see tito, with the exception of the other night. "hey, what can i do for you?"

anthony playfully rolled his eyes. "you don't live to serve us," he said. "i don't need anything, just wanted to say hi."

"hi!" you smiled even brighter.

"i was wondering, what're you doing friday night?"

you jaw dropped. and it must've been funny because tito threw his head back and laughed. "what?"

tito smiled at you and gestured towards you. "i was wondering if you'd want to get dinner with me on friday. i don't know what time you get off work, but i was thinking 6:30?"

you blinked. you blinked again. "are you serious?"

"why wouldn't i be? you're attractive, single, and i like your company. i think we'd have a fun time."

"okay," you smiled again. have you ever smiled this much in your life? you were unsure. "okay yeah, friday at 6:30 is perfect."

"great," tito grinned. "can i have your number?" you handed your phone over rather quickly, watching as he typed his number in and texted himself. "i'll see you," he said.

"bye tito!" you waved until he was out of sight. and even then, you continued to stare at the spot he was once occupying.

"what the hell was that about?"

you jumped about a foot in the air when tyler made his comment from over your shoulder. "jesus fucking christ, tyler." you placed a hand over your heart to feel how rapidly it was beating. "are you some sort of lurker?"

"what did beauvillier want with you?" he condescended.

"it's none of your business." you rolled your eyes when your phone buzzed.

mat barzal: come down to the locker room.

"who is that?" he asked, peering over your shoulder, but you stood up and started walking away.

the both of you headed down to the locker rooms, though you weren't really enjoying the company. tyler kept talking about your lackluster photography skills like the both of you didn't have the exact same job title.

you were rounding the corner when you saw mat leaning up against the wall, still in his hockey gear. tyler, being confronted with an audience, immediately departed. if you had to guess, he probably went back to his office to scheme how else to make your life miserable.

"hey," you said as you approached. "what's up?"

mat reached down and tossed a duffle bag at your feet. "open the bag," he directed.

you squatted and opened the zipper to see a pair of ice skates. you looked up at mat who looked pleased with himself. "what're these for?"

"you ever been ice skating?" he asked.

the short answer? no.

the long answer? once in second grade for a field trip.

"kinda?" you said instead.

mat laughed, like an actual laugh. there was a shiver that went down your spine at the very sound of it. "it's a yes or no question."

"i would say yes, but i was like eight."

"yeah, doesn't really count anymore. grab the bag, let's go." he walked off without a second thought, leaving you scrambling with the bag and rushing after him.

"what's the point of this?" you called after him.

"you told me to pick the last date, this is it!"

you stopped walking immediately. "mat, i don't know if this is a good idea..."

as if sensing your hesitation, mat turned around and walked back towards you. he rested his hands on your shoulders and squeezed lightly, ducking his head down towards yours. "i'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you, i promise. you have nothing to be afraid of."

"what if my boss sees? what if lou sees? i'm a lot more replaceable than you are."

mat scoffed. "first of all, you're not replaceable. second of all, it's gonna be fine. i'll take all the heat if we get in trouble, which we won't because it's not a big deal." he reached down and grabbed your hand that wasn't holding the duffle bag. "now c'mon."

he led you out to the bench where you sat down and placed your camera on the bench. "take your shoes off and put these socks on." he tossed a pair of socks at your head that you barely caught in time.

"but i'm already wearing socks," you said.

"these are longer, unless you want the boot to cut into your ankle."

safe to say, you put the socks on.

mat knelt in front of you to help put the skates on, tying them up so they were secure on your feet.

you wanted to swoon at the sight of him before you. thankfully, he stood up and helped you to your feet before you could start imagining anything preposterous.

like him proposing.

you watched as mat slid over the top of the bench railing and onto the ice. he turned around and looked at you expectantly.

"oh hell no," you said. "where's the door, i'll use the door."

he cackled as you walked and opened the door, but skated to you anyway to give you some assistance when stepping onto the ice.

"easy does it," he said, chuckling when your grip was practically crushing his fingers. "you're okay, i'm not gonna let you fall."

"it's not you i don't trust, it's me."

mat kept a grip on your hands and led you out to the center of the ice. on the way to the center, you slipped twice, a squeak leaving your lips. you quickly latched onto mat who only laughed at your death grip on his forearms.

"it's not funny," you whined. "i'm terrified."

"you're right, it's not funny. but it is cute." he removed your hands from his arms and skated away from you. "okay, now come to me."

he was easily twenty feet away.

you glanced down at the ice and then back at mat. you would've sat down if you knew how to without eating it. "mat, i'm telling you right now, that's not gonna happen."

"it's not that hard."

"you've been skating since you were a child. i have not." you attempted to take a step forward, but thought differently of it. "besides, how does this help you with alexa?"

"easy," he said. "if i can teach you to skate, i can teach anyone."

"so your idea of a romantic date is a girl busting her ass over and over for an hour?"

"not quite," he said, skating circles around you.

literally.

"you're being an ass,' you whined. "why did the one practice date you pick out have to do with hockey?"

"because it's what i love. and if a girl can't hang with it, our relationship is doomed to fail."

you rolled your eyes. "that's a bit dramatic. you can appreciate and love hockey without having to ice skate. thousands of fans do it all the time."

"but my girlfriend won't be just a fan, now will she?"

your heart sank at the idea of alexa and mat in a similar situation. alexa actually trying to skate and looking beautiful while doing so. you pictured them laughing as she slipped and mat catching her before she could fall.

"you okay? i lost you again." mat skated right up to you, leaving maybe a foot of space between the two of you.

"yeah," you breathed. "just thinking."

mat smirked and skated backwards. "uh oh. that can't be good. less thinking more skating. would it help if i pushed you?"

"no!" you shrieked. "it definitely wouldn't!"

but it was too late. mat was skating up behind you and placing his hands on your waist. "relax," he murmured. "i'm not gonna push you without a little guidance."

relax?

when his hands were on your waist and he was mumbling in your ear?

how the hell was anyone supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions?

mat added a little pressure to your back. and suddenly you were moving. "that's it," he praised. "now just move your feet."

it was easier with mat's hands on you, the sensation forcing you to focus on the warmth of his palms than the fact that you were skating on sharp knives.

"see? this isn't so bad, right?"

it wasn't too terribly bad, truth be told it was just like roller skating, just ten times scarier.

"yeah," you said. "not too bad."

"so you're ready to go by yourself?" his hands starting slipping away, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.

"i--"

but he was already skating away. he stopped about twenty feet away and smiled. "skate to me."

"mat--" your voice shook at the idea. skating with him was one thing, skating to him was another.

"hey," he said quietly. "eyes on me, okay? i'm not gonna let you fall, if i think you're gonna fall, i'll catch you. i was the fastest skater in 2020, remember?"

you nodded. "just like roller skating," you mumbled.

"except better," mat added.

you took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other, slowly but surely gliding towards him. you started picking up pace the closer you got to him.

"mat?"

"you're doing great!" he smiled.

"i don't know how to stop!"

mat laughed even as he caught you. his arms gripped your biceps and his smile was a mile wide. "you okay?" he asked.

you couldn't help but smile. "yeah," you breathed.

there was hardly any room between the two of you. your heart was beating wildly in your chest at the proximity, the rush of skating alone, who knew? you surely didn't.

you looked into his eyes and could've sworn his gaze dropped to your chin, but you were known for your hopeless romantic delusions, so maybe--

"hey!" whatever trance you were in ended when you saw a man in coveralls standing at the end of the rink. "time's up, i gotta clean the ice!"

"sorry!" mat called. "we'll get out of your way!" he gently took your hand in his and skated the both of you back to the benches.

mat helped you take off your skates and walked you back up the tunnel towards the locker rooms. the both of you stopped just outside of them, considering mat still had to shower and go home while you had the rest of the day to do your work.

"this was really fun," you said. "terrifying but fun."

"i'm glad you enjoyed it." his smile just about made you collapse into a puddle.

but you got a grip on reality and nodded. "well, i hope this helps with alexa, i'll try to talk to her in the next day or so, see where her head is."

mat's jaw clenched but he nodded. "i'll be seeing you."

"bye, mat."

you might as well have been on cloud nine by the time you got up to your office. you were in a different zone, focused on the way that mat's hands felt on your body, in your own hand. the feeling of euphoria wouldn't leave your body, you were sure of it. nothing could take that feeling away.

until you got to your desk and saw tyler.

who was sitting on your desk and using a paper clip to get the dirt out from under his nails.

"what were you and barzal doing?" tyler asked, moving off your desk, instead choosing to lean up against the cubicle.

you ignored him.

"i asked you a question," he said.

"i heard you, tyler. but i have work to do." you signed into your computer and plugged your camera in, ready to start uploading and editing photos from practice and the game yesterday.

“do you really think sleeping your way through the roster will help you get your pics chosen for the social media accounts?” he sneered.

you froze, your fingers hovered over the keyboard. "what?"

"i said--"

"don't repeat it." another voice joined in and when you turned around to see who came in, you were flabbergasted.

mat.

"barzal i--"

"where do you get off talking to her like that? talking to anyone like that?" he stepped into the room, chest puffed out.

in all of your time working for the isles, mat had never been much of a fighter, but he looked ready to pummel tyler if need be.

"mat, it's fine," you mumbled.

"no, it's not. is this how he normally talks to you?"

you said nothing.

that only seemed to make mat angrier. "you need to go to HR about this. this is workplace harassment. now apologize," he directed at tyler.

"for what? speaking the truth? is this how you think you can get ahead in life?" tyler said to you. "first beauvillier now barzal?"

you and mat both froze. in the corner of your eye you could see his jaw clench before he looked at you.

"can you do your work from home?" he asked.

you nodded. "i just have a shit ton of editing but i can do that on my laptop--"

"great. i'll take you home."

"but my boss-"

"if anyone has a problem with it, they can talk to me. let's go." mat was spinning on his heel and walking out of the room as quickly as he came in. you were unplugging your camera and logging off your computer, packing up your things, before sprinting after him.

"mat! mat, wait up!"

he stopped walking and looked at you, an unfamiliar expression in his eyes. "can you wait for me outside the locker room? i still have to shower and change."

you nodded. "why did you come upstairs anyway?"

"to give you the skates." you glanced down at his empty hands. "i forgot the bag, and by that point, i was too lazy to go down and get them without you."

the both of you continued your walk until you got to the locker room.

"i'll be a few minutes and then i'll take you home."

true to his word, mat was only gone for ten minutes before coming out freshly showered and ready to go home. neither of you spoke until he was pulling the car out of the parking garage.

"what did tyler mean when he mentioned tito?" mat asked after moments of silence. his fists were gripping the wheel tightly, though you didn't know why.

"tito asked me to dinner on friday."

mat's fists tightened their grip on the wheel and his jaw clenched so hard, you were afraid he was going to chip some teeth.

"oh." was all he said.

"something wrong? i just figured for once i wouldn't be hiding behind my camera like you said and i thought it would be fun, you know? we get along fine. why? do you think i shouldn't go?"

"no!" mat said quickly. "no, i just, it just caught me by surprise is all. i'm sure you'll have fun."

"and i can give you alexa's number if you want to ask her out! she's coming over tonight so i can talk you up now that i know more about you, make it seem more genuine."

"yeah," he choked out. "yeah, that would be great."

mat pulled up to your apartment a few minutes later and watched as you got out. "i meant what i said in your office," he said. "you need to tell HR about tyler's behavior."

"i will." you probably wouldn't. "thanks, mat."

he nodded as you shut the door and waited for you to go inside before driving off.

you walked up the stairs to your apartment and unlocked the door. as you shut the door behind you, you felt the weight of today bearing down.

tito asking you out.

the moments with mat.

the slut shaming comment from tyler.

when did your life get so dramatic?

step 4: get her to say yes

you had alexa over that night, armed with a million reasons why she should say yes to mat.

and the one reason why she should say no was locked deep in your chest. your happiness and affection for him shouldn't deter her.

besides, you would eventually get over your silly little crush, right?

right?

"so what's new in your world? i feel like you've been so busy lately. it's kind of strange," alexa said before shoveling a forkful of pasta in her mouth. it should've been disgusting, but she made it look graceful.

"oh you know, just working."

"is that why you were in the middle of nowhere a few weeks ago? work?"

"what?"

"i checked your location, you were on a farm. didn't realize the isles was doing photoshoots that far out of the city."

"oh they're not," you explained. "i was with mat, we were just hanging out."

alexa blinked. "since when do you and mat hang out?"

ouch.

but true.

you couldn't come out and say it could you? that the reason the two of you started interacting was because he wanted to date alexa?

no, you couldn't.

so you lied.

"oh, the social media team wanted me to get some information on mat, like a get to know you segment. they wanted something outside of work, so we were just hanging out so i could write this article on him."

a complete lie. you haven't had to write anything on anyone since your college journalism class. but alexa didn't know that. you never told her what you do all day for work. for all she knew, you could be running the tiktok account.

alexa raised an eyebrow. "and how did that go? was he talking about himself the entire time?"

"no!" you said. but then you paused, realizing that getting defensive would just look suspicious. "he told me a lot about how he doesn't like mulled wine and loves corn mazes despite being absolutely shitty at them. he loves his friends and hockey, obviously. he refuses to let anyone pay for anything while you're with him because he has money and likes to treat people. and he sticks up for the people that are important to him. and once you're in with him, you don't have to worry about your place in his life or how important you are because he will keep reminding you."

alexa stared at you. "are you sure you don't want to go out with him?"

you guffawed and hoped that it covered up your embarrassment. "what? no! he's clearly into you, and i think you should go for it."

"give me one good reason why."

"because he's kind, and nothing like your ex. he cares, legitimately cares about people and their lives." you sighed, not sure if you were convincing her. “it’s just one date, lex. if you don’t like him at least you got a free meal.”

alexa chewed her lip, letting you anguish in silence. "fine. you can give him my number and we'll set up a date. i trust you."

"fantastic!" you were already pulling your phone out. "he'll be so excited--"

"only if you can look me in the eye and tell me you don't have feelings for him."

you opened and closed your mouth. "i don't have feelings for him," you said with as much confidence as you could.

"honey..."

"no! i don't! if i had feelings for him, would i be going out to dinner with his best friend on friday?"

alexa didn't look fully convinced, but your date with tito was a welcomed distraction as she started rattling off questions about what you would wear and where he was taking you.

alexa left two hours later, meaning you could go to bed at a reasonable hour. as you laid in bed, you grabbed your phone and opened mat's contact, drafting a text to him.

here's alexa's number. managed to convince her you were worth a shot. xxx-xxx-xxxx.

you locked your phone and put it on do not disturb before you could see his response.

when you woke up the next morning, you saw mat had simply liked the message and left it at that.

by noon, alexa texted you that her date with mat was on saturday.

step 5: let the dates begin

friday came faster than you were anticipating. you kept your distance from mat, unable to look at him without thinking about how he was taking your friend out the very next day and that your interactions from that point on would probably be through alexa.

tyler kept his distance, must've been the threat of going to HR (that you still hadn't gone through with) that had him treating you like a human being with feelings.

as for tito, you probably should've been more excited for your date that night, but all you could focus on was how mat and alexa would fall in love and get married and have beautiful babies and grow old together.

and you would be the sucker who set them up because you could never tell mat no.

a slam against the boards startled you enough to look up from your camera to see tito standing there with a smile on his face.

"you okay?" he asked over the sounds of his teammates on the ice.

you gave him what you hoped was a convincing smile and nodded. but he rolled his eyes.

"we'll talk later," he said before skating away. you smiled and waved at him before you made eye contact with mat who was clenching his jaw. at what? you weren't sure. you even turned around to see if tyler had entered the arena, but you were standing alone.

like you always were.

you were headed back to your desk to do some editing as practice let out, but your name was called before you could get away.

when you looked over your shoulder, you saw tito doing an awkward half jog half walk towards you with a tired grin on his face. "hey," he said. "how do you think practice went?"

you turned to face him fully. "you're asking me? a professional asking some photographer how practice went?"

tito rolled his eyes. "oh c'mon. you've seen our practices, by now you should be able to determine whether or not it was a good one."

"well, no one fought each other, so i guess that's a win."

tito shook his head. "nah, that's when the best practices happen. when everyone's pissed at each other."

you smiled. "shows what i know."

"i think you know more than you think. you've worked here for awhile now."

"i've just gotten better at motion capture photography and following the puck around the ice. doesn't mean i know shit about hockey."

"don't think we don't notice you getting riled up during games when calls are missed."

you tilted your head and furrowed your brows. "we?"

tito shrugged and laughed to himself. "mat usually points it out before i can." you must've made a face because he added more. "it's usually on the bench, he's focused on the game when he's playing."

the both of you turn your heads at the other players walking down the tunnel. when the both of you caught sight of mat, tito smiled.

"will you send me your address? so i can pick you up?"

your attention snapped back to tito. "yeah! of course!"

he nodded and started his walk towards the locker rooms right when mat walked up to you. "what was that about?" he asked.

you shrugged. "just going over details for tonight. he needs my address to pick me up."

mat clenched his jaw again and looked down the tunnel, nodding his head. "that's tonight?"

"yep. at 6:30."

he wouldn't meet your eyes. instead, he looked at your shoes, your camera, the hallway, his teammates, but would never look at your face.

"you and alexa go out tomorrow, right? where are you taking her?"

he ran a hand through his hair and nodded at anders as he passed by. "yeah, we're going out to this sushi place. did you ever talk to HR?"

"well no but--"

"do i need to talk to HR?"

"he really hasn't been that bad lately--"

"because i threatened to tell HR on his ass. he's gonna get comfortable and start insulting you again. it's just a matter of time."

you nodded, feeling a lump in your throat form at the idea of mat scolding you, in front of his teammates no less.

mat sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. "i'm not trying to fuss or tell you what to do, i just don't like seeing you treated like that."

"thanks, mat," you mumbled.

he still wouldn't meet your eyes, instead looking down the hallway to see most of his team in the locker room. "i gotta go, but um, good luck tonight. beau's a good guy."

with that he turned on his skates and walked away.

you felt every bit of pathetic as you watched him go.

that night, you settled on a pretty dress that wasn't too fancy, seeing as the only details tito had given you were that it was nicer than an olive garden but not a michelin star restaurant. you were strapping yourself into your heels when you heard a knock on the door.

your phone said it was only 6:15, but maybe tito was accounting for traffic. he never did specify when the reservation was.

"coming!" you called as you put your last heel on and made your way to the door. "i wasn't expecting you this early, you never told me when the reservation was--" your voice trailed off when you opened the door and saw who was standing on the other side.

mat.

he looked more disheveled than you'd ever seen him. it was clear he'd been running his hands through his hair repeatedly just by the strands sticking out every which way.

he still looked handsome.

"mat, what're you--"

"i think you're beautiful. and smart. and passionate about a lot of things. and i think anyone who tells you otherwise is an idiot, and i'd fight them if you'd let me." your eyes started welling up with tears. "i think you're perfect for me and if you'd let me take you out, i promise i'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

you blinked until the tears disappeared by sheer willpower, not willing to cry in front of him. "that's perfect," you said. "say that to lex and she'll be eating out of the palm of your hand."

you turned around to grab your bag and coat before you could see mat's face drop in confusion. by the time you turned back around, anthony was standing next to his best friend.

"you ready?" he asked, only glancing at mat out of the side of his eye.

you nodded and squeezed mat's arm as you passed; you couldn't help yourself. "get home safe, mat."

neither you or tito spoke until you got into his car. "what was that about?" he asked.

you shrugged. still not fully comprehending why mat showed up at your door in the first place. "he was telling me what he was gonna tell lex tomorrow, i think."

"really." he didn't sound convinced.

"why else would he show up?"

tito mumbled. "i can think of a few reasons."

after he parked the car, tito got out and opened the door for you while you were answering texts from alexa. he offered you a hand to get out that you took.

there were no sparks, no electric sensations going up your arm. just physical contact, just the warmth of his palm in yours.

he led you into the restaurant which was moderately fancy, like he said. the two of you were escorted back to a table in the corner, away from windows and therefore away from prying eyes.

like a gentleman, he pulled your chair out and helped you scooch up to the table.

"i can't remember if i told you this, but you look lovely," he said with a smile.

"thanks," you replied. "you look handsome." and you meant it. if you weren't in love with his best friend, in another life, you could see yourself falling for his blue eyes. and maybe you still could. mat was going on a date with your friend tomorrow so it was better that you just get over him already and--

"so how long have you been in love with mat?"

you choked on your own spit, and for a minute, tito looked apologetic. for his timing, you had to guess, not the question itself.

surely you heard him wrong.

"what?" you asked when you finally got your bearings.

"how long have you loved him?"

nope. you heard him correctly.

"i--"

he leaned forward, arms braced on the table. "you don't have to lie to me, i know. i've known for awhile."

"i--"

but the server came up and asked for drink orders. tito ordered a bottle of red for the table after asking for your thoughts.

you were still reeling from his question, safe to say you didn't have any thoughts.

"sorry," tito started. "i didn't mean to make you feel cornered, i just wanted to be honest."

"it doesn't look like you're the only who needs to be honest, it's me." you fiddled with the ends of your dress.

"why'd you do it? why'd you help set mat up with your friend?"

you shrugged. "i just wanted to see him happy. and i wanted alexa to find a good guy, i knew mat was one. they make sense together."

"even if it makes you unhappy."

"even if it makes me unhappy."

tito nodded, and looked at you like he could see something you couldn't. "let's forget about him for now and just enjoy dinner, eh?"

you gave him your best smile and nodded.

the rest of the night flew by. soon enough, tito was walking you up to your apartment and kissing your cheek before he left. you wished you felt butterflies, or something, but there was no special sensation. nothing to make you weak in the knees.

it was like a kiss from an old friend.

your phone buzzed with a text from alexa.

alexa: how'd your date go?

you typed out a quick response.

it was good. just got home.

you locked your phone and placed it on your nightstand before collapsing into bed. but your phone buzzed again. you thought about ignoring it, but if it was alexa, you didn't want her to think you were upset at her.

mat barzal: did you have fun?

you blinked before typing back.

yeah. tito's great.

not a second later, you got another text.

mat barzal: good. have a good night.

you fell back against your pillows and cursed at the ceiling.

step 6: let them fall in love

you woke up the next morning and stayed in bed until your bladder was about to burst. after the date with tito and the reminder that mat was going out with alexa tonight, it was all enough to put you back in bed as soon as you peed.

and you stayed there, flicking through netflix shows and wallowing in self pity. you usually weren't this pathetic, but the idea of alexa and mat getting cozy on their date that night was enough to warrant your sadness.

you'd pull yourself together by monday when you'd have to go back to work and see how happy she made him.

that's what you kept telling yourself, that at the very least, two of your friends would be happy.

by 7pm, you were sitting on the couch, waiting for takeout to arrive.

when a knock on the door signified your food arrived, you got up with your blanket burrito and walked to the door. you didn't even bother checking before yanking the door open and looking down at your doormat.

only to see a pair of shoes.

"what the hell," you mumbled. "i thought i said leave at the door...' your voice trailed off as your eyes lifted to meet a pair of hazel.

mat barzal.

he had your food in one hand while the other was in his pocket.

"mat?" you whispered. suddenly, you were throwing the blankets off your shoulders and behind you into your apartment where they'd be out of sight.

though it was then you realized you were in sweats and you hadn't done anything with your hair all day so you were probably better off with the blanket burrito instead.

"hi," he breathed. "here's your food." he handed it over, nodding when you murmured your thanks, and shoved his other hand through his hair.

you glanced at the time on the clock on your wall to make sure you weren't hallucinating. "why're you here, mat? shouldn't you be with alexa?"

"that's what i wanted to talk to you about, actually."

"oh no," you started panicking, your eyes widened. "did she not show up?" you turned back into your apartment and went to your phone, searching for texts from alexa to explain her absence. "i swear i thought she'd show. she told me she would and she's usually a woman of her word."

you turned around when your front door shut with mat standing in the middle of your living room, looking out of place and right at home somehow.

your phone was vacant of any text messages from alexa.

"no, she showed. i left early."

that caught your attention.

you set your food on the coffee table and turned around to face him.

"why did you leave early? was she rude? are you sick?"

mat shook his head. "no, i'm fine, she was fine. that's not why i'm here. i mean it is but that's--that's--i want, no i need to tell you something."

"tell me what?"

he rolled his eyes. "i'm getting to that." he started pacing your very small living room. you wondered if he knew how much space he took up in your apartment. you wondered if he cared how messy your place was. "i'm just gonna come right out and say it, and don't interrupt me this time." you nodded.

mat ran both hands through his hair for the twentieth time since he showed up. "when i said all those things last night, i wasn't talking about alexa. i was talking about you."

what.

but he continued.

"i'm not gonna pretend i've loved you this whole time, but i fell in love with you along the way. the way you kept analyzing every fucking pumpkin for the perfect one, or how you bring red wine to dinner unprompted because you can't not contribute to something, or the way you trusted me enough to take you on the ice and show you something i love, or how you laugh like no one has ever said something mean to you in your life even when i know that jackass tyler harasses you on the daily. you're kind to literally every person i've ever seen you interact with.

"but i hate the way you shrink yourself like you're afraid to take up space. i hate the way you act like alexa's better than you, like i couldn't fall in love with you when you're literally the most generous, kindest, passionate, and beautiful person i've ever met in my life. because i do love you. every fiber of my being loves you."

you blinked once. twice. and breathed.

"what?" you whispered as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.

"i know you just went out with tito last night, and if you like him, if you love him, i get it. he's a great guy and you'd be great together. but i'm asking you to give me a chance, give us a chance. i've had fun with you the last few weeks and i cannot bear the thought of not calling you mine any longer." his chest was heaving as the words rushed out of his mouth.

you rounded the coffee table to get to him. as soon as you were in arms' reach, mat was pulling you to him. with your hips pressed together, your lips just a breath away, you spoke softly.

"please tell me this isn't a dream."

a small laugh escaped his lips and echoed over your own. "it's not a dream, baby. this is real. i love you so fucking much."

"i love you too, mat."

any words you had left to say were lost as he brought your mouths together.

you weren't sure how much time had passed before you separated from him with your hands pressed on his chest. mat tried to follow your lips, but you kept a firm hand on his sternum so you could speak.

"what about alexa?"

mat pulled back. "what about her?"

"you were on a date with her and just left her there?"

"i more than covered the tab if that's what you're afraid of--"

"what if she hates me?"

he laughed. like threw his head back and laughed before kissing you again. "baby, we were there for fifteen minutes and all i could talk about was you. she told me to come here and tell you the truth."

you smiled. "thank god for alexa."

"thank god for alexa."

mat led the two of you over to the couch where you immediately curled into him. he kissed the top of your head, seemingly addicted to having his lips on your body at all times. "you're fired, you know."

you would've pulled away had mat's grip allowed it. "what? fired from what?"

"the wing woman business. you're absolutely horrible at it."

"yeah, well i think it worked out pretty well."

he pressed his lips into your hair and mumbled. "yeah, i think so too."

#mat barzal #mat barzal imagine #mat barzal x reader #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #nhl blurb

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ddarker-dreams · 4 months

Text

play wresting — gojo satoru.

(Warning for mild not sfw implications)

“So this is it, then? I’ve finally… finally been bested.”

From this vantage point, you tower over a certain melodramatic man, whose long limbs cover the king sized bed at awkward angles. His soft, snowy hair blends in with the stark white comforter. He tries lifting himself up, but his arms buckle from the exertion of such a physically demanding act. The feigned helplessness comes close to breaking your composure.

“Humor a dying man’s final request,” Gojo rasps. “Did you ever love me? Or were you just after the money and status all along?”

The term money and status reverberates in your head, taking you back to the rumors whispered behind closed doors by those opposed to your engagement. Gojo, being the person he is, delighted in playing into your supposed alternative motives whenever a ‘well-intentioned’ member of the more conservative factions tried tipping him off.

“Babe? Did you hear that?” He had called you over once, a hand to his chest, as if he’d learned the most scandalous news. “This man here said you’re only after my assets. Is this true? I thought for sure it was my devastatingly good looks and charm that won you over.”

(The face of the man in question went beet red over how loud Gojo spoke these words. Unsurprisingly, he slunk off at the earliest opportunity).

You try assuming your role as the indifferent black widow here, looking down your nose at him. “Nope. I’ve been biding my time all these years.”

You’re not sure what spurred him on to flex his acting muscles. When you entered the room, you were overcome with the urge to tackle him onto the bed. You’ve both loved roughhousing each other since you were in high school. Given the sheer, unfathomable extent of Gojo’s abilities, he was perfectly capable of dodging you or standing firm against your attempts. Alas, those two options must not have interested him.

And so he’s writhing in faux agony, putting on a show, as he is wont to do.

“Do I get any final requests?”

“Hm,” you hum, fighting how desperately your lips wish to curl into a smile, “That depends. What is it?”

Whatever he murmurs next is unintelligible.

Curious, you step forward, urging him to repeat himself. He does. Despite speaking slightly louder, the syllables and consonants blur together, spoken in such rapid succession that your brain can’t piece it together. You draw close enough for your knees to hit the side of the bed. Whatever he’s planning, this must be the grand finale.

This time, you understand him perfectly fine. You don’t know whether you should laugh or roll your eyes. Perhaps both.

“Let me hit it, just one more time,” Gojo says these words as if in actual pain, successfully melting your apathetic facade.

You can feel the satisfaction rolling off him in waves over the fact you broke first. Not willing to accept total defeat, you huff and pivot on your heels. You can feel his eyes boring into your back as you saunter toward the door. You answer the question that’s undoubtedly burning his tongue before he can speak it.

“Consider your request denied. I need to start searching for my next rich husband — time is of the essence.”

You gape as the once open door is now shut, faster than you could blink. In front of it is your apparently resuscitated Gojo Satoru, who acts as a human barricade. He extends his long arms out to ensure you’re not going anywhere. His grin is all teeth and his brilliant blue eyes gleam.

“Sorry babe, this rich husband’s still alive and kicking. Better luck next time.”

#an anon requested play wrestling with gojo and blade #but i love that concept so much i'll do a lil scenario for those currently in my Husband Rotation #starting with the white-haired menace #gojo satoru x reader #jjk x reader #gojo brainrot #my stuff

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deliciousbasementtrash · 6 months

Text

Playing Nurse for the Batfam

Artist Nick Robles **Thank you for the correction @miraculous-panic **

Summary: you are a nurse working for Gotham General Hospital. Batman has offered you a job. You are now a nurse for the entire Batfamily. You bump into Jason. How will your first meeting go?

Pairing: Slowburn Jason Todd x Female!reader

Warning: Adult language, knife injury

Word Count: 1.7k

Note: These characters are not my own they belong to DC. The only character that is 'mine' is the reader. I am going to be as nondescript as possible for the reader as well for physical attributes. This is a continuation series; I’m not sure how long it will be. Also for some reason, my replies to comments are not showing up. I’m not ignoring your comments Tumblr won’t let me respond :( But please, please comment I live for it

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four

Part Five: Hello Sailor

I opened my eyes and had a face full of an exposed chest. I hadn’t run into a wall. I ran into a man. A man with wet jet-black hair with a white streak. His full torso was exposed revealing a white Y-shaped scar and a very defined body that was glistening with water. He had various bruises and cuts along his body making an instinctual part of me want to reach out and heal him. Although, I refrained from that urge. He only wore a white towel that was wrapped low against his V-cut hips. My face heated and words failed me.

“I’m… I’m y/f/n. The healer Bruce hired,” I stammered. God how embarrassing. I could face a level one trauma without a blink of an eye but put a man fresh out of the shower in front of me, and apparently my mind turns to mush.

“I figured,” he reached out a large hand; I took it. He nodded, “Jason Todd. If you wanted an introduction you could have asked, you didn’t need to tackle me.”

“Pfft that was barely a nudge. A slight bump if you will.”

He pointed at one of his many bruises, “Look what you did to me! If that is your ‘slight nudge’ I’d hate to see a real tackle from you, y/n.”

“Oh please, that bruise is at least three days old! You can’t pin that on me!” I tilted my head back and laughed.

“New girl I can pin whatever I want on you. You tackled me, and bruised me before I got so much as a ‘hi, nice to meet you.’”

“Hi Jason Todd, nice to meet you. Are you going to let me heal you or do you want to keep your injuries to seem mysterious and interesting?” I asked in a sweetly sarcastic manner.

“First you bruised my body and now my ego, wow y/n,” Jason drew out the syllables of my name as if he was savoring them.

“If you don’t take me up on my offer in three seconds I’m going to bed,” I said flatly. My tone might have indicated that I was serious but I knew that the threat was empty.

Jason threw up his hands in surrender, “Yes ole mighty healer! Please have mercy upon me!”

I rolled my eyes and started walking toward my room. Jason followed me.

“This is your room?” Jason asked, surprise lacing his tone.

“Yes, why?” I asked, curious.

“It’s nothing.”

I ignored his weird comment and sat on the edge of my bed. I motioned for Jason to sit next to me. I could have sworn I saw his eyes widen from across the room. He made his way over slowly as if hesitant.

The bed dipped as he sat down. He was a very large man. Practically a giant. With broad shoulders and thick thighs… okay nope. Not going down that route, you need to focus you pervert. I thought to myself.

“So how do you do this? Do you wave your magic wand and make my owies go away?” Jason looked at me intently. The question was partly a joke, but I could tell he wanted a serious run down of how it works. Just as I was about to elaborate a fluff ball came hurtling out of nowhere.

Hashbrown practically parkoured herself onto Jason’s lap. Jason’s laugh was deep and smooth like dark chocolate and honey. He reached his hand out and let Hashbrown sniff before he began to pet her lightly. Soon the room was filled with her purrs.

“Who is this?” Jason asked, smiling.

“That attention whore would be Miss Hashbrown herself,” I huffed.

Jason reached out a hand and grabbed Hashbrown’s front paw. I was shocked she let him. “Hello, Miss Hashbrown.”

Okay wow. The inappropriate thoughts are going wild. There was something about a man being gentle and good with animals.

I swallowed hard and focused myself, “In order to heal you I have to rest my hands against you. It works best with skin-on-skin contact but in emergencies, I can make it work through cloth. Or if you are more comfortable doing it through clothing we may do that as well.” I put on my professional Nurse voice which left little room for playfulness.

I heard Jason clear his throat and then he nodded, “It’s fine. I’m okay with skin-on-skin.” I saw a faint blush in his cheeks as he said it.

I rubbed my hands together trying to warm them for his comfort. I raised them slowly, “You might feel a slight tingling sensation like pins and needles. It should only last for a moment though. Are you ready?”

Jason nodded and I rested my hands against him. I closed my eyes and concentrated. There were bruises and cuts which I healed with little difficulty. But as I searched there was more, so much more.

“Wow you’re like an iceberg,” I mumbled.

“What?” Jason asked laughter in his tone.

“So much more beneath the surface.”

I felt him tense under my hands, “I guess you could say that.”

I couldn’t talk anymore. All of my energy was going into healing him. Rib fractures. Sprains. Bruised organs. A pinched nerve. Low iron. Low-grade fever. I healed and healed. My exhaustion grew. My eyelids felt like they were being weighed down by sandbags. I couldn’t open my eyes. I couldn’t lift my head. Distantly I felt myself leaning forward. But I lost consciousness before my forehead slapped against Jason’s shoulder.

***********************************************************

Jason’s hands quickly reached out to catch the girl as she fell towards him. It seemed like she passed out. Jason anxiously checked her pulse which was strong. She probably just needs some rest. He thought. Because whatever she did to him, Jason felt great. She went beyond the mild injuries and healed more than Jason could hope for. Instantly he was grateful.

He gently eased her back onto her bed. He pulled up her blankets. He plugged her phone into the charger. And he shut off the light. He made his way out the door and into the neighboring room. His room. He and the healer were so close they shared a wall. A foreign feeling popped up for Jason. He liked that she was so close to him. He felt strangely protective of the stranger. It might just be because she healed him. Or maybe it was something else, something undefinable.

Jason banished other thoughts about her as he got dressed. Soon he made his way down the stairs and into the dining room. Where his entire family was yelling and arguing. Ah home sweet home.

***********************************************************

A few days had gone by. I haven’t seen Jason since. I found much to my annoyance that I caught myself looking for him when I heard footsteps. Or thinking about him in my spare time. How embarrassing. You have one tension-filled healing sesh and all of a sudden you can’t think logically.

I paced around the Batcave in my scrubs. I alternated between reading my book, doodling in my notebook, and texting Sam.

[Girl if you don’t tell me more about Mr. Baddie Skunk I’m gonna have a freakout.] Sam texted me.

[I literally told you everything. That was it.]

[He has to be hot for you to say something. Does he have social media? I wanna see this cutie patotie.]

[No, just no, you stalker.]

[I’m not a stalker. I’m looking out for my friend. I may also be curious but that is beside the point.]

I heard and felt the rumble of the Batmobile. [Ttyl. Duty calls.]

I stood in my healer’s station. I double-checked my supplies once, twice, three times before the Batmobile came screeching up. Bruce got out quickly, his cape snapping as he moved. He ripped open the rear door and leaned in. When he came out he held a whimpering Tim in his hands.

I ran up to him with the gurney, “What happened?”

Suddenly Dick was beside me, ripping off his blue mask. “Poison Ivy released a noxious gas created from Manchineel. Tim took the brunt of it.”

I raked my brain trying to remember the properties of Manchineel. In the hospital most of the time we just tell the patient to call poison control. It didn’t matter. Tim’s airway was the top priority. I rested my stethoscope against his chest as we wheeled him closer to the station.

A high-pitched turbulent sound filled my ears. Fuck. Stridor. His airway was closing.

“Bruce go into the red cart top drawer and grab an epi-pen now!” I yelled as I started cutting away his Red Robin suit. I hissed through my teeth when I saw red hives and blisters all along his skin. “Grayson grab saline and rinse his skin! Wear gloves when you do it!”

Bruce deftly handed me the pen and I stuck it quickly into the meat of Tim’s thigh. In a matter of moments, I saw Tim’s breathing even. I listened once again he was still wheezing but it was better than the stridor. Without wasting another minute I rested my hands against Tim’s chest. I ignored the remnants of gas that burned my hands. It took hours but I healed Tim completely. He still was in a deep sleep by the time I was done. His body needed rest. I patched up Bruce and Dick since they also got exposed.

I felt sweat dripping down my back when I was done with everyone.

“Here,” Dick said, handing me water, “drink this you look a little gray.”

I nodded and gripped the water. I winced, forgetting that I burned my hands. It wasn’t as bad as Tim’s by any means but the burns were second-degree and hurt like a bitch.

Dick saw my wince and looked at my hands, “Oh shit! We should wash those off!”

“No shit Grayson.” A flat voice said from the distance. I recognized it instantly. Jason walked up to us, with supplies in his hands. He motioned for Dick to get up. He did and Jason took his spot.

“Let me see.” It wasn’t a question. It was a demand.

Taglist: @soundsfunbutno @killxz @morpheus-girl @redhood414 @bungunz @conicoroahre @greenyofthegreens @taytaylala12

Thank you guys so much for the kind words I hope you all enjoy it. If there is anything you would like to see with Jason in particular comment below.

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signedkoko · 2 months

Note

GOSH, all your writings make me feel all bouncy and giddy I swear AaaAAAA

Feeling slightly inspired by your previous Lucifer and Lilith with a reader who ends up attacked, might I request a Vox X Reader, where while they're both out together, Reader notices someone apparently brave enough to attack Vox and just- autopilot takes the hit to protect him? Turns out afterwords it wasn't an Angelic weapon of any kind, so even though it's nasty and painful, they'll ultimately be okay...

But did Reader KNOW that? Nope. Could Vox have probably handled it himself with how powerful he is? Yep. Did either one of those thoughts even cross Reader's mind until after? NOPE.

Reader just saw harm approaching the one they love so much and just went into instant protect mode...

Vox X Reader [Romantic]

In which someone attempts an attack on Vox, but you decide to get in the way. Reader is genderneutral.

It was just another press conference, the same as all the others

VoxTek had a new announcement, and reporters flocked to be the ones with the most interesting story or the first, whichever got them more praise from their lousy boss

Both the CEO and spokesperson, Vox insisted on being the face everyone knew and saw, as well as the voice they all followed

You were a not-so-recent addition to his empire, and some cameras were sure to catch a frame or two of you as you waited on the side, smiling and waving to the crowd

You were only here because it made Vox happy and because you would rather be seen than not

VoxTek had some of the highest security, with mostly Vox himself watching over everything

You always wondered how he could keep track of so many tasks at once

But the screams of everyone sounded different, less like a thousand questions and more like terror, incomprehensible yells as someone broke through the crowd

They had a gun; it looked white and gold, you weren't sure if Vox hadn't noticed or didn't care

All you knew was that your body moved, and suddenly you were between the bullet and fov when it pierced right into your side

The space cleared of voices before one of the bodyguards tackled the man and wrestled the gun from his grip

While you stood there, clutching your abdomen, the lava-like pain burst through your abdomen

Before Vox could react, flashes began again, most of the crowd recognizing the occurrence or snapping photos of you stood there, still in shock from the shot

What did you expect from demons? They'd win a bonus if they caught the first image of you being shot

Before you can think much of it, Vox is running, carrying you, and applying pressure with his hand and yours over the bullet hole

Thank god the press release was in the Vees tower, he's laid you on a counter in the lobby, his jacket bunched up under your head and his claws tearing through your shirt to access the wound

There's no time for a hospital; besides, he knows everything, he can be the best doctor in the world in a second, and he's going to be if it means helping you

" Thank go- "

" Thank god what! I could take that shot! Shut up! "

You decide to listen because, well, you can barely speak through gritted teeth

He's calling Val to come down and bring any kind of anaesthetic.

He's able to fix you up more than enough, but just to be safe, he's called in his private doctor to come take a look at you

Once everything has calmed down and you're back upstairs with Vox, he's got a million different questions

Why? I mean, he could take a bullet with ease! hes moslty metal, everything can be replaced!

Even worse if you really thought it was an angel weapon, because that would have absolutely killed you!

" It's not like I had time to think, Vox. I just moved! "

He's frustrated that you'd ever be in harm's way, but it's hard for him to stay mad knowing you just wanted to protect him

Author's Note - I wasn't sure if I should go for an angst or romantic note on this one, but I felt a little humour coping was more like Vox so I went for romantic! Thank you for requesting 🖤

#koko writez #hazbin hotel #helluva boss #hazbin hotel x reader #helluva boss x reader #reader insert #x reader #vox #vox x reader

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writinground2 · 8 months

Text

The Trainer and the Rookie

Arsenal gets a new trainer and a new rookie takes a bit too much of a liking to her, much to Leah's entertainment.

Note; I wrote under a previous name, but I am potentially looking and getting back into it. If this get's picked up, I may turn it into a series.

“How are you not fuming right now?” Lia asked, her gaze bouncing between Leah and the new athletic therapist, Y/N, “the rookie is hitting on Y/N again and she’s doing nothing to stop it.”

Y/N was currently across the room working on another player, twisting her ankle around and asking questions as she worked.

“Because she is completely oblivious,” Leah let out a laugh, smiling at shaking her head.

The pair watched as one of the rookies continued to shamelessly flirt with the trainer. The rookie had spent the entirety of the preseason working her hardest to gain the attention of the new therapist, to no avail, and much to the entertainment of the rest of the team.

The returning players had met Y/N weeks prior to the preseason starting. She quickly became well liked amongst the group. Y/N was quiet and professional with the players but did well to banter and joke alongside them. She offered a level of trust and respect quickly, asking players permission before placing her hands on them for treatment, and ensuring they were comfortable for the duration of their treatment. The level of clear communication she showed allowed the players to quickly feel comfortable in the woman’s presence.

Leah had quickly noticed an attraction to the trainer. Y/N made her laugh and eased her nerves about getting cleared to play without even trying. She felt drawn to Y/N anytime they were in the facility together. Leah found herself sitting in the treatment room frequently just making small talk with Y/N as she worked, staying well after her training was over for the day.

Their connection was apparent. To everyone except Y/N. Leah kept waiting for Y/N to ask her out or to initiate something, but it never happened. The defender finally confidently asked the trainer out, to which she agreed. Only for Leah to realize that trainer still seemed unaware that Leah was pushing for more than a friendship with the woman.

“She oozes sex appeal and she has no idea that rookie is hitting on her right now?”

“No, she truly doesn’t.”

“That rookie has spent the last three weeks throwing themselves at her, and Y/N doesn’t know it?”

“Nope.”

“So why aren’t you worried about it?”

“Because there’s nothing to worry about,” Leah shrugged, confident in her relationship with the new trainer.

“Does that mean you guys finally made thing official?

“I practically had to spell it out for her a couple weeks ago, but yes,” Leah chuckled.

Leah felt like she had practically been throwing herself at Y/N in an attempt for them to move past a friendship. Y/N always leaned into the blondes touches and lapped up the flirting comments Leah sent her way; if Leah was any less confident, she would have thought Y/N didn’t return her feelings. She had finally snapped one evening while the pair had been hanging out. They had spent the afternoon at the training facility, then went over to Y/N’s flat to order supper and watch movies.

Leah had moved along the couch, leaning her body against trainer, even moving Y/N’s arm out of the way to cause her to wrap it around her shoulders. Y/N had given her shoulder a squeeze before softly asking if the contact was okay.

“I snapped at her and told her of course the contact was okay, I put it there,” Leah rolled her eyes retelling the story, “I asked her why she hadn’t made a move yet. I was practically sitting in her lap, and she looked at me confused and said she didn’t know if I wanted her to or not.”

Lia let out a loud laugh, gaining the attention of the training room. Offering a small apology, she softened to a giggle, waving the room off. Y/N kept her eyes on the pair for a moment longer, earning a small wink from Leah.

“I’m happy for you Leah, really happy for you,” Lia spoke softly once she got her laughter under control. Leah stretched a hand into the space between the beds, Lia stretches a hand out, the pair sharing a quick squeeze of hands before laying back, continuing to watch the rookie unabashedly flirt with the trainer.

“She keeps calling it soccer,” the rookie later spoke with disdain while the team was stretching post lifting session, earning an eye roll from the rest of the team.

“She also calls jumpers ‘bunny hugs’,” Beth cut off, “she’s Canadian, she uses funny words, give it a rest.”

“If she can’t even get the name of our sport correct, how is she supposed to be a good trainer?”

“And you can’t get a solid cross into the box, but you don’t hear us commenting,” Katie snapped, sending the glare at the rookie.

The room sat in silence, the occasional snicker sneaking out from players attempting to cover their laughter.

“Alright enough,” Kim spoke up before anything could continue, “she was hired for a reason and is good at her job. If you have genuine concerns, then you can bring it forward. Katie,” she paused, not knowing what to say.

“Isn’t wrong,” came a grumbled response, earning a few giggles.

“Let’s just keep our inside thoughts inside,” Kim finishes.

“Guess the flirting didn’t get her anywhere,” Lia whispered to Leah at lunch.

“Flirting didn’t work for who?” Alessia cut in, dropping her plate down at the table with the pair.

“The rookie flirting with Y/N,” Leah spoke up.

“Oh yea, that was painful to watch. I thought you two were together?”

The comment causing both women to glance up at the blonde. Leah barely contained her smile, small blush, she gave a subtle nod of her head.

Alessia didn’t comment anything further, just nodding along. Conversation moving to the what the after session was going to be like. The lunchroom slowly filled with players and a few staff member, the room gradually becoming louder.

Leah’s head immediately popped up when she heard Y/N’s voice chatting with one of the chefs at the entrance to the kitchen. Y/N shyly took a plate of food from the chef, she awkwardly laughed attempting to hand the special dish back to the chef. She relented and graciously thanked the man with an appreciative smile and pat and on the back.

“If you’re trying to be subtle about this, watching her from across the room doesn’t help,” Lia elbowed the defender in the side.

Leah bit her lip and glanced down to her hands before looking back up to the trainer making her way out of the room. The couple made eye contact, Y/N shooting her a quick wink before leaving the room.

“Oi, do you think staff purposely gave her all the wrong size shirts?” Beth exclaimed, having watched Leah’s eyes follow Y/N out of the room. Viv giving her a brief smack on the arm.

“What? That shirt couldn’t be any tighter on those shoulders!”

“Ugh! Yes! Finally, someone else said it!”

Eyes all whipped to the table full of rookies behind them. Leah immediately scowling, working hard not to glare at the blunt rookie that couldn’t seem to leave her girlfriend alone.

“I’m glad I get to have those hands all over me all season,” she spoke again, a pleasured hum emphasizing her words.

“Woah now, I was kidding,” Beth corrected herself, “I teased her about it earlier too. We keep it professional here, what you’re saying is completely inappropriate,” she snapped back, stunning the rookie to sit back in her seat.

The veterans smirked; their patience having worn thin with the arrogant rookie that most likely wouldn’t make it to the end of preseason.

“Heard you had a fun lunch with some of the rookies, well one of the rookies,” Y/N smirked, dropping her dropping her dumbbell on the ground when Leah approached her in the gym a couple minutes later.

“How’d you hear about that?” Leah stood aghast.

“I was just outside the door when I heard Beth putting the rookie in her place.”

Y/N pulled the bottom of her shirt up, wiping her face with it. Leah allowed her eyes to follow the movement, biting her lip, and enjoying the site of sharp lines of muscles on display. She bit her lip, shamelessly ogling her girlfriend.

“You can’t really not know she has been flirting with you for the since preseason started?”

The trainer let her shirt drop back down, “wait, what? No, she hasn’t.”

Leah couldn’t help but let out a bark of laughter at the utterly shocked face on Y/N’s face. Taking a brief glace around the empty gym, she stepped forward, gently pushing tapping her chin to shut her mouth before laying a delicate kiss on her lips, “you’re adorable.”

Creating space before anyone else entered the gym, Leah stepped back, watching ss Y/N’s look of shock turned to a pout, “I’m not adorable.”

“You are, but I’m alright with that.”

“I’ll see you tonight?”

“Of course,” Leah called back just before leaving the gym, “you know the chef was flirting with you at lunch too, right?” she popped back in briefly before leaving entirely.

#woso imagine #woso x reader #leah williamson x reader #leah williamson imagine

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nataliesfirefly · 25 days

Text

You and I Walk a Fragile Line - Farleigh Start x F!Reader - Part 7

a/n: hey y’all!! im finally back yayyy and ready to serve you guys some hot and fresh ANGST. i would like to apologize in advance, this chapter is kind of rough. part 8 will most likely be the last part of this series 😭😭 pls give suggestions for what i should write next, like should i start doing oneshots or start a new series, and should i write for a new character??? just send it to my asks!!! anyways enjoyyyy ily all so much thank you for the kind words and love! ❤️❤️

word count: 4k words

warnings: fem reader, language, mentions of sex, alcohol, smoking, ANGST, fluff for like one second, suggestive stuff, farleigh is a bitch but so is reader, not proofread

series masterlist

playlist

You wake slowly, your eyelids heavy with sleep. You feel an arm wrapped around your waist and warmth enveloping you. Sunlight creeps into the room, bathing the walls in golden light. Memories of last night start coming back to you in waves.

You tilt your head up slightly, seeing Farleigh sleeping peacefully. His long lashes flattened across his closed eyelids, his chest rising and falling slowly, completely relaxed in his deep sleep.

If someone would have told you a year ago you would be waking up next to Farleigh, you would have laughed in their face. It’s surreal. And yet you can’t complain as you watch the beautiful, serene expression on his face.

You shift, sitting up slowly, careful not to wake him. You both barely fit in his bed. You wonder how you managed not to fall off of it during the night.

He stirs a bit in his sleep and stretches out the arm that was flung over your waist. He groans softly and his eyes flutter open as you pull up the duvet to cover the lower half of your body.

“Morning,” He mutters, blinking away the sleep, his voice husky. “Hey,” You awkwardly reply, noticing that your own voice is a bit weak. You notice the dull pain in your lower back as you sit upright, and you grimace.

Farleigh just stares at you blankly, and you stare right back. You aren’t sure what to do or say in this situation, when the person you’ve always claimed to hate just gave you the best night of your life.

You reach a hand around to your back and rub it softly, trying to soothe the pain. He raises an eyebrow, and you can tell one of those smug remarks is forming on the tip of his tongue.

“Are you sore?” He asks, a smirk playing on his lips as he rolls onto his back. He raises his arms behind his head and watches you with intrigue.

“No,” You lie, shaking your head. “No?” His smirk only grows and you glance away. “Maybe.” You say softly.

Your gaze trails down to his stomach and his waist, the duvet covering the rest of him. You look back up to his face, and you can see him eyeing your body with a look of hunger.

Nope. “Okay, we need to figure this out,” You start, trying to push the horny thoughts out of your mind. Farleigh sighs and rolls back onto his side, facing you.

“What’s there to figure out?” He asks, making it sound so simple. You stare at him blankly and blink a few times.

“Are you- Oh my God,” You hold your head in your hands.

“You’re overcomplicating this. We hooked up. Are you familiar with that term?” He pokes you in the side and you bat his hand away.

“Shut up,” You roll your eyes. “Farleigh. It means something when you have sex with someone, okay?” You explain matter-of-factly. He goes quiet.

“I thought you would be mature enough to realize that,” You shake your head and chuckle at your own apparent stupidity.

“For you it might have meant something,” He replies coldly. “But for me, maybe it didn’t.”

You turn back to him, genuinely taken aback by his comment. Why did it feel so special to you? You think back to last night. It was so intimate. It didn’t feel like just another hook up. He made it feel like your first time, and he’s saying that it didn’t mean anything to him??

“Right, because you just get passed around, so it all starts to feel the same at some point,” You fire back. His eyes turn dark.

“Wow, fuck you too,” He says under his breath. “You’re just like everyone else. You’re just fucking shallow, not capable of seeing someone as more than just a hole,” You reply, your voice seething with anger as you climb off the bed and go to search for your clothes on the floor.

“Jesus, that’s not true,” Farleigh exclaims, but you shake your head as you step into your underwear and your shorts.

He sits up and watches you walk to the door once you’re dressed. You open it and turn back to look at him one more time before shutting it behind you.

You don’t realize the tears pooling in your eyes until you’re alone in the hallway. You begin the walk back to your room, ignoring the fact that your legs are a bit unsteady and your back still aches.

Are you just being a stupid, delusional girl who caught feelings for someone after a one night stand? You could usually just leave someone's room after sleeping with them and never speak to them again back at Oxford, but with Farleigh, it’s different. You wanted it to mean something. You try to push down your feelings and forget about last night, but it’s nearly impossible. All you can do is try your best to ignore him.

The past three nights, there’s been a pattern. You and Farleigh ignore each other the whole day, avoid each other at all costs, and then late at night when no one else is awake, he leaves his door open for you and you creep into his room, which eventually leads to you two fucking or doing something of the sort.

Of course, you two never talked anything out or solved any problems. You don’t know why you went back to him. You were trying to be nonchalant and independent, but you obviously failed at that. You want to hate him, but your craving for his touch and his body overrides all of your logical judgment.

And every night you tell yourself that it’s the last time. But you just keep coming back for more and he welcomes you with open arms.

Tonight at dinner, you act like he’s not there at all, like a ghost is in his place, and he does the same. You don’t even glance in each other's direction.

“So, the party is tomorrow night. Your friend is arriving during the day, correct?” Elspeth glances at you and you nod in response.

“Yes. She’s just taking the train and then getting a cab, I think.” You take a nibble of your bread.

“Remind me of her name again, darling,” Elspeth asks. “Oh, it’s Lola.” You smile and she presses a hand to her chest. “Oh, I love that name. So beautiful.”

Felix clears his throat. “I didn’t know you were inviting Lola,” He says. You look over to him and it seems that he is pleased with this information.

“Yeah. Sorry, I forgot to tell you,” You pat him on the shoulder. Farleigh sighs loudly and your eyes dart over to him before returning to Felix.

“It’s alright. I quite like Lola,” He smiles and you grin, thinking of how happy Lola will be to hear this information.

“Because you fucked her?” Farleigh says abruptly and Elspeth coughs. “Farleigh,” Sir James hisses.

“Jesus Christ, mate,” Felix shakes his head and looks down.

You awkwardly sit there in the silence, eyeing Farleigh from across the table. “No, I like Lola because she’s kind, funny.. She’s smart, too,” Felix finally says.

“Whatever,” Farleigh rolls his eyes and you can’t help but snicker. What’s his problem?

“You should ask Lola out. I think she really likes you, too.” You nudge him and lower your voice as a different conversation begins at the table.

“Does she?” He raises his eyebrows and his eyes light up. “Felix, she’s had a crush on you since like… our first year,” You explain. His face turns a red shade.

It’s weird to see Felix be so nervous over a girl. To him, all girls are the same, just little accessories for him to show off. But maybe Lola was an exception, the one girl he might actually care about.

“Well, I look forward to seeing her.” You can see that his smile doesn’t fade even after your conversation ends.

Later that night, you end up in Farleigh’s bed, sticking to the usual routine. You snuck into his room at one in the morning, which was the time you found everyone else was already asleep. Now you could guess that it’s maybe around two as you lay next to him, your naked body covered by the expensive sheets, staring up at the ceiling.

“You don’t think anybody could hear us, right?” You ask softly. The last thing you need is for Felix or, really, any one of the Cattons to find out about you and Farleigh’s situationship.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit late to be asking that?” You look up to see that stupid smirk. His face is illuminated by a slice of moonlight streaming in through the window, and he looks angelic. You can see the gold flecks in his eyes. He has a point, since you two have been doing this for four nights now.

“They definitely did. But no one has said anything yet,” He sighs and wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer to him. You smile at the feeling of his skin against yours and close your eyes.

“Do you think Felix would be mad?” You ask. He plays with a strand of your hair, threading it through his fingers slowly. “Why would he be?” He questions.

“Cause we’re best friends and you’re his cousin,” You explain, wondering why it isn’t obvious to him.

He tilts his head down to you. “Best friends?” He raises an eyebrow and you roll your eyes. “I don’t know.” You shrug. You assume he’s referring to you and Felix’s little fight.

“Did he really say those things about me?” You ask, sitting up slightly. “You ask a lot of questions,” He groans.

“No, answer me,” You respond while narrowing your eyes. “I might have… made some of it up?” He trails off, his tone making it almost sound like a question. You grab a pillow quickly and hit him over the head with it.

“Farleigh! You little shit!” He shields his face with his hands and laughs. “It’s not funny,” You sit back and cross your arms. He finally peeks out from behind his hands and shrugs. “I mean, was I wrong? He said it eventually, I just sped up the process,” He bites his lip to keep back a grin, but you see it in his eyes.

“Whatever.” You shake your head before laying back down.

“If it makes you feel any better, I only said that stuff because I know how it feels,” Farleigh says, his voice softer than before. “After all these years, I’ve figured out how he thinks. How they all think,” He explains.

You tilt your head as he continues. “They pity me. They only keep me around because they feel bad for me and everything that happened with my mom,” You feel a pang in your chest. You always knew this, but you still feel bad for Farleigh. In a way, you can relate.

“Just look around. I don’t fit in. But I try to,” The room falls silent and all you hear is both of your breathing.

“I’m sorry,” You whisper. He shakes his head. “It’s fine. What I’m trying to say is, I understand you.” He says it almost hesitantly, and you know it’s because he’s not used to being vulnerable with anyone.

“Thank you,” You take his hand in yours and squeeze it gently. He looks down at your hand and then back up at you, and you can see the gears turning in his head. Then, he withdraws his hand and turns over. “Goodnight,” He mutters.

You sigh and turn over so your back is to his. Why does he do that? It’s like he can’t make up his mind. Does he want to be vulnerable or does he want to pretend that he’s emotionless?

It’s a big turn out at the party, as per usual. You recognize a few people from college, mostly Felix’s friends. Everyone else is most likely family friends of the Cattons or at least acquaintances. You can’t even comprehend how one could invite so many people to a party. You’re not even sure you could name twenty friends off the top of your head.

You and Lola step outside, navigating through the large throng of people, gently shoving past and muttering the occasional ‘excuse me!’ ever so often. She arrived earlier today, shortly after lunch, and was greeted warmly by Elspeth and the rest of the family. Elspeth called her beautiful several times and seemed to really enjoy Lola’s company. Felix was hanging around them, joining the conversation every now and then, and you noticed how Lola’s face burned a deep red shade everytime they made eye contact with each other. You told Lola about Felix’s little crush on her, and she started jumping and giggling like a schoolgirl. She couldn’t believe it.

You inhale the fresh air, no longer trapped among the crowd of sweaty, writhing bodies inside. There are still many people outside, but less concentrated. Some people lay on the grass, while others stand and take sips of their drinks, as the footmen pace around, carrying platters of various cocktails, wines, and hors d'oeuvres. You glance around, taking in the dark landscape colored by large torches of fire and glitters of sparkly dresses catching in the neon lights.

“Wow. This looks like a movie,” Lola grins and looks around. “They really know how to throw a party,” She remarks. You nod in agreement. “They do, don’t they?”

She pauses and squints while glancing about. “Have you seen Felix?” She asks. You knew the question was coming. You raise an eyebrow and shake your head. “No. I bet he’ll turn up at some point, though.”

You both sit down on a nearby bench, peacefully observing the scenery. Lola turns to you. “Hey, you know who I think you would be cute with?” She nudges you with her arm and you sigh, preparing yourself for what she’s going to say. “Who?” You ask.

“Farleigh.” She says. You swallow nervously, attempting not to show whatever reaction you’re having to his name. “Oh. Umm, no.” You shake your head aggressively and she laughs. You can feel your face heating up and you curse internally. “Why are you getting so flustered?” She quirks an eyebrow and narrows her eyes suspiciously.

“I’m not,” You quickly look away, turning your face away from her. “Dude, the chemistry you two have is insane.” Lola whistles and you turn back to her. “He’s annoying,” You roll your eyes, half faking your disdain.

“You know, I’ve never told you this, but I feel obligated to now,” She scoots closer to you, and your curiosity peaks. “Hm?”

“So, back in… When was it? First year, first term. Oxford. Farleigh came by our dorm once, and he seemed very… concerned.” She begins, and she seems concentrated on recalling all the details. You don’t know where this is going.

“It was a Sunday morning, so of course we had gone out the night before. When he couldn’t find you anywhere, he walked all the way to our dorm, which is, mind you, on the other side of the campus from where he lived at the time.” She explains. Your eyebrows knit together in confusion. “Why was he looking for me?” You question.

“I don’t know. That’s the thing. He wouldn’t really tell me much, he was just asking if you had come home after the club. Which you hadn’t yet, so I told him no. He just seemed very worried for someone who claimed to hate you so much,” Lola laughs quietly to herself and plays with a piece of her hair.

“Oh.” You look down at your lap and process the information Lola has just given you. “I think he cares about you more than he lets on,” She tells you with a lowered voice and another playful nudge.

Felix spots the two of you from a distance and waves, jogging over. He smiles and dips his head to Lola, then to you.

“Hello, you two. Looking stunning tonight,” He observes your dresses, but especially Lola’s. His eyes linger on her for a second too long, and you notice.

“Why thank you,” You reply politely, raising your glass of wine to him before taking a sip. “Is that one of Venetia’s dresses?” Felix gestures to your elegant black dress. “Yes. She let me borrow it,” You answer. “Well, it looks great on you,” He nods and smiles.

“Lola, would you like to walk with me?” He asks, turning to Lola. She nods quickly, eagerly. “Yes, please. Let’s go,” She gives you an excited glance as she steps forward, Felix taking her hand in his, and they walk off together. You watch with envy. Although you claim to not want a boyfriend, it would still be nice to not be left alone at parties.

Sometime later, you find yourself in a pleasant conversation with a man by the name of Damien. He seems kind and genuine, and he’s actually interesting. He has a personality, surprisingly, and good humor. You both stand by the staircase, chatting it up and discussing all things school and personal life. Although Farleigh is at the back of your mind, and you haven’t seen him all night, you try not to care. You know that you aren’t actually in a relationship with him, so you can talk to all the men you want.

“Yeah, and that’s what I told them. You have to look at it from a different perspective. That’s what philosophy is all about, really.” Damien explains, and you nod enthusiastically. “Right. Exactly,” You suddenly feel a presence behind you and then a strong grasp on your arm.

“I’m so sorry man, she’s had way too much to drink tonight. I should probably help her up to bed.” You hear Farleigh’s voice and you turn to look up at him. The fuck is he doing? You’ve had a whopping total of one drink tonight, a single glass of red wine. What is he on about?

Damien raises his eyebrows. “She seems fine to me, mate.” He tilts his head and glances back and forth between you and Farleigh. You can’t help but notice he’s significantly shorter than Farleigh.

“She’s not, but thank you! Have a good night,” Farleigh replies with a bit of sass in his voice as he drags you away, causing you to stumble after him as he leads you up the stairs. Damien watches you two leave with a puzzled expression.

“What the fuck are you doing?” You hiss angrily, some people side eyeing you as you pass by. “Saving you from that boring conversation,” He replies, eventually pushing open a door to one of the guest rooms and walking in. He closes the door behind him.

“I was actually enjoying that. And I’ve only had one drink tonight, for the record.” You escape out of his grasp and step away from him. He crosses his arms and leans against the wall, looking down at you.

“Enjoying what? His knowledge about philosophy?” He scoffs and shakes his head. “At least he’s smart enough to talk about philosophy rather than the latest gossip or his most recent hook up,” You scowl back at him.

“And his outfit. He clearly has no knowledge on fashion,” He chuckles and sighs shortly after. You don’t laugh.

“What do you want from me?” You question, narrowing your eyes. “Nothing.” He shrugs nonchalantly.

Realization clicks in your head as a smile tugs at your lips. “You’re jealous, aren’t you?” You say. He freezes and you know you’ve just read him like a book. “Farleigh Start is jealous,” You say in a sing song voice and his gaze falters down to the floor. “Shut up,” He groans.

“You avoid me all day, all evening, and then you want me when it’s convenient for you, but you don’t want me to speak to another man?” You feel yourself getting more and more heated with rage with each word. You feel all the emotions you buried coming to the surface. “And not only that, you’re just emotionally unavailable! All you care about is–” You huff angrily, dropping your hands to your side.

“You can’t have it both ways. Make up your fucking mind.” You watch as his eyes widen at your words. “I’m not playing your stupid games anymore, Farleigh. Either decide what you want or leave me the fuck alone.” Your harsh words hang in the air between you and you let out a breath, looking down towards the ground. Lola’s words from earlier linger in your head and it makes you even more confused.

“I mean, am I stupid for thinking we had something?” You ask, throwing your hands up and looking at him expectantly. “Yes.” He replies flatly. You’ve never felt the urge to slap him across his face as strong as right now. “We were never a thing. Not even a concept. We never will be.” He says, resting his head back on the wall.

“So you just used me for my body? Is that all you wanted?” Your heart races with fury. He can’t even look you in the eye as you talk, he continues to look down at the wooden floor. “I hate you,” The words escape your lips before you can think about it. Suddenly, his eyes flick back to yours and he scoffs.

“You don’t hate me when I’m inside you,” He remarks smugly, a grin on his face despite the serious situation. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” You exclaim angrily after registering his response.

You decide to go back to the door, and just as you’re about to turn the knob, he speaks.

“You know what I think?” Farleigh says, his voice dark and cold, and you can already tell he is about to say something ruthless. “What? Please, tell me.” You turn around to face him, your vision blurry with tears.

“I think that you’re a slut who finally got the attention she wanted, and then when a whole relationship didn’t come with it, she blames everyone except for herself.” He takes a step closer to you, attempting to assert dominance with his height. He leans down as he lowers his voice, his dark eyes intense and cold. “But it is her fault, because she expects a fucking fairytale romance, but she’ll never get it, because those don’t exist. But she’s happy to play along and get fucked like the dumb slut she is.”

You think that you actually stop breathing for a second. His words slice through you like cold knives and his gaze pierces into yours. You inhale shakily and raise your finger, pointing at him.

“You’re a piece of shit, Farleigh. I wish we never met,” You blink and the tears overflow, streaming down your cheeks. White hot hatred built up over the years pours out of you and into your voice. He seems taken aback by your words as regret and guilt swim in his eyes. He remains silent as you twist the doorknob, swing the door open, walk out, then promptly slam it behind you.

You walk to your bedroom as fast as you can, trying to avoid the glances and whispers as you pass by. You’re sure you look a mess, you can feel the mascara streaking down your face with every tear that drops from your eyes. You open the door to your room, hoping to not find a random couple fucking on your bed. Luckily, it’s completely empty as you step inside and close the door behind you, locking it.

You try to tune out the loud bass echoing throughout the walls as you climb onto your bed, helplessly sobbing with your head in your hands. You want to text Lola, but you know she’s probably having fun with Felix. You wonder if Venetia has her phone on her. Nevermind, you think. It’s probably best to just suffer on your own and let everyone else enjoy themselves tonight.

It’s not like you can tell anyone about what’s happening. No one is even supposed to know about you and Farleigh. How are you going to survive the rest of the summer with him around at all times? You know you can avoid him. It’s just going to be difficult. But you’re willing to do whatever it takes because that was the last straw for you. It’s really over this time, and you promise yourself you won’t fall back into his trap.

taglist: @isla-finke-blog @ibimbogrl @drunkmysticsquirrel @alonia-olivia @novemilady @saltburnsworld @florkt @i-love-ptv @imjustheretoreadsmuthaha

#farleigh start #saltburn #farleigh start x reader #farleigh x reader #farleigh x you #farleigh saltburn #archie madekwe

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jaidens · 7 months

Note

idrk if u still do outsiders stuff 😕 but if u do can you please do a dallas winston x reader fic where reader has a younger sibling that annoys them when they’re together 🙏🙏

miss americana & the heartbreak prince !

pairing [s] : dallas winston x reader

warning [s] : hey outsiders.. 😞

a/n [s] : ty for the request!!

KNOCK! KNOCK!

The pattering noise against your door makes you moan, putting out the cigarette against the ashtray and you answer whoever is behind it. Your little sister pokes her head inside, a mischievous grin across her face. Dallas greets her as he saunters into your room, muscles stretching through his white tank.

It had been known to you that your little sister, Dorothea, had an insignificant crush against your boyfriend. It was quite hilarious— watching her kiss his cheeks and cuddle up into him. Even though when he would leave, it was all fight and no play.

“Hey sweetheart,” The New York accent rings within his words, but your sister kicks her feet and hugs Dallas in her small arms. “How have you been?” She pulls away from him and smiles, her two front teeth missing are adorable, and you laugh at her.

“I’ve been good! I got an A on my project about flamingos! Did you know that they aren't always pink—” She's cut off when you chuck a shirt at her doll, hitting the pink ribbons that are tied in small bows around her hair. Her expression turns from happiness to immediate anger when her doll falls against the floor.

Dallas turns his head at you and you swear they have identical expressions of ‘why did you do that?’. “Why did you do that? You hurt Betty!”

Dallas looks even more offended than her, picking up Betty and gently dropping her in Dorothea’s arms. He stands up, pats her head, and walks over to you. Within a second, Dorothea follows Dallas to your bed. He lays down next to you and kisses you. “Move over!” Dorothea screeches and pushes in-between you and your boyfriend. Inherently, she's closer to Dallas and she lets him tickle her sides.

“Get out Dora! Leave me and Dal alone.” You snap at her and she sticks her tongue out at you, waving her hands in the air. “Shoo!” You say once more, slapping her side. She stands up and walks away, slamming the door behind her.

You and Dallas are finally alone, as you watch him puff on a cigarette while telling you a story about something that had apparently happened at Buck’s earlier that day. You're running your finger down his chest. You're cuddled up with him when you hear another obnoxious knock. “Mommy said you have to let me stay with you guys!” Dorothea yells through the crack of your door. You roll your eyes and Dallas puts out his cigarette once more.

She's crying outside of your door and Dallas can't help but not to laugh. His arm wraps around you and pulls you into his shoulder. He kisses your forehead and pulls you close. You're relaxed then once again, your name is screeched. “C’mon! Let me in!”

“Nope! Goodbye!”

#dallas winston headcanons #dallas winston imagine #dallas winston fanfic #dallas winston fanfiction #dally winston #dallas winston x reader #dallas winston #dallas winston x you #dallas winston x y/n #the outsiders fanfiction #the outsiders fanfic #the outsiders #dally winston x reader #the outsiders dally

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builtbybrokenbells · 8 months

Text

have you ever thought of Jake pretending to be a big tough guy? one that’s immune to the cuteness of animals? baby animals, even? or Jake that’s so certain he’s a dog person, that cats just aren’t his thing, but absolutely melting at the sight of a stray kitten you brought home? yeah, it’s probably a good thing. anyway, here’s that thought:

“Jake?” You called out as you gently kicked the door shut behind you. The sound echoed off the walls, bouncing down the hallway and landing somewhere amidst the empty living room. You weren’t sure if he was home, or if he was, what he was even doing. That was a minimal worry compared to the one you had for the kitten in your hands, bundled in a towel you had found in your backseat. “Jake!” You called a little louder, but not enough to scare the already nervous animal seeking comfort in your arms.

You carefully made your way down the hall, cautious not to move too suddenly. When you broke into the kitchen, the lights were off and the house seemed even more silent than before. Feeling a shred of defeat, you flicked the light switch on, realizing you would likely have to navigate this on your own. “It’s not so scary, is it?” You asked, looking down at the towel. From your position, you could only see the tip of an ear poking from the hole you had made for the kittens head. “We’re gonna get you all cleaned up.” You couldn’t help but feel a little anxiety at the thought of Jake’s reaction. In your time of knowing him, it had always been quite apparent that he was a dog person. Although the never spoke blatant distaste for cats, he also hadn’t ever given an idea that he was fond of them. Plus, since moving in together, neither of you had offered an idea as large as a pet, and you weren’t sure if he would be interested in such a big commitment yet.

“Who are you talking to?” A grumble from the doorway made you jump. You looked up, eyes wide in shock at the intrusion. Jake stood, eyes heavy and clad in only sweatpants.

“Did I wake you up?” You asked, regret apparent in your question. He waved you off, shaking his head, even though it was quite obvious.

“Just dozed off…” he trailed off, stare landing on your hands. “Uh, what’s that?” He raised an eyebrow, looking up to you.

“This? Oh, just an old towel that was in my car.” You gave a nervous laugh, not really certain why you were lying about it. He was bound to find out eventually.

“Talking to a towel? That’s new for you.” He noted, not believing a word you said.

“I wasn’t talking to the towel.” You defended, narrowing your gaze at him showing your distaste for his smart comment. “I was talking to myself.” As the words left your mouth, you understood that your answer had not made you seem any less insane. He watched you, eyes flickering between your face and your arms. Before you could think of anything else to say, a small meow broke through the silence. You two had a bit of a staring content, neither sure of what to say, nor what to do.

“Y/n,” he said, a hint of warning in his tone. “Is that a cat?” Your defensive nature turned into one of defeat.

“Yes, but before you get upset, he was tiny and alone on the side of the road. How could I just leave him there?”

“We can bring him to a shelter,” he offered, almost unwilling to discuss the topic. As hurt as you seemed, he just wasn’t sure if a cat was his first, or favourite idea for expanding the family. “That way he’s safe, but he doesn’t have to stay here.”

“Jake, just look at him!” You exclaimed, maneuvering the towel to show off the small animal.

“Nope, don’t want to.” He shook his head, casting his glance to the floor.

“Please,” you begged, now making it so the kittens head was fully in view, surrounded by the soft fabric. As nervous as it may have been, it was incredibly content just being held by you. “Look at his little face,” you cooed, gently scratching his head. Through the thickness of the towel, you felt a little purr, which only melted your heart even more. You took a step closer to him, making it harder for him to ignore you. Eventually, once you were in front of him, he couldn’t resist looking at you any longer. “He’s just so hungry, and little…” Only slightly, his head turned towards you. The stony expression he had adorned previously seemed to crack, softness taking over his eyes. His gaze flickered from the kitten, then up to you. After a moment, he gave in.

“Fine, we can feed him and clean him up, then we’ll take him to the shelter.” He sighed. You fought back a smile, knowing that it would only be a matter of time before he changed his mind completely. “We don’t have cat food.”

“I think there’s leftover chicken in the fridge from last night. Or there’s a probably a can of tuna or something in the cupboard.” You theorized. He looked like he was fighting the urge to pet the cat, so instead he nodded in agreement. He left your side, immediately following your verbal guidance. You took a seat at the table, making sure to hold the towel close to you while you did so. After a few moments, Jake took a seat beside you with the food you had previously mentioned. You carefully placed the towel on the table, straightening it out so the kitten could walk freely.

“You’re a little beggar, you know that? Come into my house and eat my food.” Jake grumbled, pulling out a small bit of the plain chicken breast. The cat perked up at the smell of it, immediately taking a step towards him. Instead of feeding it, he placed the food on the table. He repeated the action a few times, smiling more every time the kitten eagerly responded.

“He likes you.” You informed him, noticing the cat’s affiliation with his attention.

“He can like me all he wants, but he’s not staying.” He noticed the animals attention shift to the can sitting beside it, giving it a little sniff of curiosity. “You want to try that, instead? Chicken isn’t good enough for you?” Although his words were gruff, his tone was light. He opened the can, placing it in front of the kitten in a timely fashion. It immediately began eating away at the contents, just happy to have food. You both fell into a silence and you began to worry he really was annoyed with you. That was, until you heard a small mutter of words that made your heart swell with joy. “You like tuna? Is that your favourite?” The words were coated with affection, spoken in the same tone you would speak to a baby with. You couldn’t fight back the smile that broke onto your lips. Suddenly, Jake stood, going to the sink and flicking on the tap. He grabbed a shallow bowl, holding it under the stream for a moment. He returned to you, setting the bowl beside the can. You looked over to him, a smug grin stuck on your face. “What? He needs water, too.” He defended.

As the cat made itself at home, Jake slipped his arm around your shoulder. It was a silent show of affection, one that told you he wasn’t upset with you at all. When he placed a kiss to the side of your head, you were more than aware that this would be the newest member of the family. “He is kind of cute, isn’t he?”

“I think so.” You giggled, reaching out to give the animal a small pet. You both settled into your seats, content with watching the cat explore its surroundings. After a few moments of curious looks, it took a few steps towards you both. With caution, it approached Jakes hand that was resting on the table. Jake was still, watching it closely. Eventually, once it was familiar with him, it nudged his hand with its head. As if he was completely defeated, he let out a groan. Immediately after, he gave the cat a few pets. When the cat began to purr, his hard exterior melted away entirely.

He picked it up, the animal giving him no protest at all, and brought it to his chest. He held it to him, scratching behind its ear with a smile on his lips. “I think it would be okay if he stayed with us tonight.” He murmured, looking down at the ball of fluff in his hand. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Get you cleaned up and you can sleep in bed with us tonight?” As he spoke, the kitten let out a yawn, then it’s eyes slowly drifted shut. “You’re tired? You eat all of our food and then just go to bed? Such a hard life to live.” He cooed, but there was no hint annoyance in his voice at all. After a moment, the purring slowed to a stop, because the kitten had fallen asleep in his hand. Slowly, Jake turned to you. His eyes were glistening with love, completely wooed by cuteness of the animal.

“What do you want to name him?” You teased.

“Shut up.” He grumbled, but his attempt at sounding annoyed was futile. “Sparrow?” The word was barely spoken, so quiet that you almost missed it. You let out a laugh, nodding your head in agreement.

“Yeah, I think that’s perfect.” He gave you a grin, thrilled that you liked the idea. “I love you, Jake.”

“I love you.” He hummed as he leaned over and placed a kiss to your lips, quickly forgetting he ever contested the idea of keeping the kitten at all.

this post was made by a certified cat lover and Jake kiszka enthusiast. no, I will never recover from this. thanks for asking though

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capricornlevi · 2 years

Text

i have a memory - kishibe x f!reader

cw: brief mention of violence and threat (not graphic), consumption of alcohol/cigarettes, explicit sexual content (oral sex f! receiving, fingering, hand jobs, vaginal sex) - NSFW, MDNI

word count: 8.9k

a/n: thinking about how young cocky annoying kishibe showed up for 3 panels and changed the trajectory of my life forever ... so here's 9k words of kinda-sorta-enemies slash annoying colleagues to lovers .... with a tiny splash of angst too for good measure? i just love this man and think he's a secret softie so here's him successfully pulling for once <3

___

“You’d really say no to a smoke?”

Kishibe’s question sounds disbelieving as he holds out the box of cigarettes in your direction. Instead of answering, you choose to wave away his offer dismissively. Still shocked, he continues, “you’re not even a little tempted?”

You roll your eyes. You’re one of few devil hunters in the Public Safety Division that rarely, if ever, smokes; a fact that makes you somewhat of an oddity to people like Kishibe, your partner, who seems to keep the tobacco industry afloat through his wages alone.

“Nope,” you reply simply. “They taste bad.”

Your replies are clipped and borderline rude but you can’t bring yourself to care - not when he’s dragged you to this place yet again, at this godforsaken hour of the morning, to “look over your case files” even though he never seems to actually care enough to read them.

The place in question is a dingy old café on the outskirts of town, one that Kishibe insists on coming to even though there’s a fancy new artisanal coffee shop just down the road. His loyalty to this dump baffles you.

In theory, you don’t object to meeting up this early - you usually prefer to grab a hot drink at this time anyway, just to keep your hands warm, and Kishibe always needs to take a smoke break, so better to get it out of the way before the day kicks off - but you hate how he never seems to take these meetings seriously. It feels like wasted hours you could have spent sleeping.

Adding to your resentment is the fact that you have to sit outside in the freezing cold just so he can grab a smoke. He doesn’t like walking and smoking at the same time; it distracts him too much, apparently.

You hate it out here. As grim as it is on the inside of the café, the exterior is far worse; grey, miserable concrete floors and walls, no decoration of any sort, and just one solitary table for outdoor dining.

And at that lonely table, there is only one chair - the chair which you’re currently sitting on. Thankfully, Kishibe knew better than to fight you for it since it’s his smoking habit that’s keeping you outside.

He’s leaning against the wall next to you, peering down curiously as you sip your drink with a poorly-concealed grimace.

“You really sure you don’t want one?” he asks again.

“Shut up and smoke the damn cigarette. It’s fucking freezing.”

Kishibe lets out a short huff of amusement, finally fishing a cigarette out of the box and bringing it to his lips. He slips the box back into his shirt pocket and then pulls out his rusty old lighter, soft strands of black hair falling into his eyes as he lights the cigarette. His lips purse around the tightly-rolled tobacco, his cheekbones stained pink from the cold.

You don’t know why your eyes linger on the sight. To distract yourself, you open up a copy of the report sitting on the table in front of you.

Kishibe takes a long drag before exhaling with a pleasured sigh, eyes closed with bliss.

“Doesn’t taste too bad to me.”

“Well, that’s you,” you mutter, scanning over the paper on the table. You’ve just picked it up from the captain of your division - he left it a little late to brief you both, considering the mission starts today - and you want to have at least a passable knowledge of what you’re up against before setting out.

You’ve worked a few jobs with Kishibe since being assigned as his partner and generally, you tolerate him fine. He doesn’t try to ruin your day (you don’t think, anyway). You even share a few laughs every now and then, once you grew to understand his strange and overconfident sense of humour. He’s manageable.

But at times like this, times when you should be focusing on the job that’s been assigned to you instead of just fucking around, smoking cigarettes and taunting each other …

At times like this, he can really get on your nerves.

He’s far from a bad hunter, you know that. His strength and skill have given him quite the reputation even though he’s still in the early stages of his career, and he approaches every fight with the sort of stoic level-headedness you could only aspire to.

He’s good. Too good, almost, and it scares you how he manages it all without even breaking a sweat.

That’s the real reason he gets under your skin so often. It's all too easy for him, and it’s a humbling reminder of your own mortality. He may not need to do this much preparation and research in order to stay alive, but you certainly do. You can’t take any chances.

That, coupled with the fact that you can’t even enjoy your morning cup of coffee indoors anymore …

“You sure it’s just the taste you don’t like?” he pipes up as if on cue, prompting you to give him a withering look over the top of the report. “You’re not scared of them, are ya? Cos we’re not gonna live long enough to worry about the side effects of smoking, if that’s what’s actually bothering you.”

“That’s exactly why I don’t smoke,” you reply, unimpressed. “I’d rather spend what little time I have left doing things that I actually enjoy.” You gesture dismissively at the cigarette dangling between his lips. “And those things taste like shit, so I don’t bother wasting my time or money on them.”

He raises his eyebrows when he takes his next drag, whisps of grey smoke spilling out into the frosty air as he exhales. “I could get offended here, y’know?”

“Why would you be offended?” you say disinterestedly, your eyes lingering on the part of the report that details the previous fatalities of the devil in question.

“Are you saying that I taste like shit, then?”

“Maybe you do,” you say, setting the paper back down in front of you with a yawn. “I don’t care.”

Kishibe’s grinning down at you now. He has that kind of smile that always reaches his eyes, and you’d almost find it charming were it not always associated with him trying to tease you.

You’ve read enough of the report at this point - it sounds awful, but all the death and destruction and suffering starts to blur together after enough time - and so fold the paper in half and slip it into your jacket pocket, trying as best as you can to ignore the grin spreading across Kishibe’s face.

“I don’t taste like shit, y’know,” he elaborates, even though you didn’t ask him to.

“You’re a freak.”

Your comment does nothing to halt his attempt at conversation.

“Well, I have these breath mints, y’know - y’know those ones you can pick up at the counter in drug stores? They’re pretty good, cancels out the taste. So I make sure I don’t taste bad.”

He finishes his sentence by stubbing his cigarette out on the ashtray and opening the little tin of mints that he keeps in the same pocket as his lighter. He pops a mint into his mouth and stays looking smug, so smug you could slap the expression right off his face.

You are in no mood to entertain him any further, so just fire off an agreement in the hope of shutting him up.

“Fine. I’ll take your word for it.”

But you should have known it wouldn’t be that easy, because not a second later he asks, practically beaming …

“Do you wanna find out?”

You get up from your chair abruptly, shoving him with your shoulder as you pass him on the way out of the café. He gasps in feigned indignation and is just about to speak up again before you call out a question of your own.

“Has a line like that ever worked on anyone?”

He laughs, though it ends in a cough. You turn to leave but still hear his answer from over your shoulder.

“Nope.”

______

The job is a tough one, even by the standards of devil hunters.

Kishibe has your back and you have his, but it’s not enough to save the many casualties who you had hoped to keep out of harm’s way. Collateral damage is a given in your line of work, but this … this was a particularly bad day.

You and Kishibe travel home in silence. He doesn’t say anything to draw a reaction out of you, and in turn, you don’t make a comment when he pulls his box of cigarettes from his now blood-stained shirt pocket.

It’s a mutual understanding, and you’re grateful for it.

_____

The next day, once you’ve had the closest thing to a full night’s sleep you could hope for given your line of work, you’re awoken by the sound of Kishibe knocking on your door.

You know the sound all too well. He gives three loud raps against the doorframe, all in quick succession; he might pretend otherwise, but he’s a creature of habit. You don’t even have to look through the peephole to know that it’s him.

“I have a question,” he announces the moment you open the door, without so much as a greeting. “Just a quick one.”

“... go ahead.”

You’ve worked with him for long enough to know that it’s better to let him tell his piece first, and then you can ask for elaboration later. You don’t try to slow him down with a ‘good morning’. It wouldn’t be helpful for either of you.

“A few friends in another division are going out for drinks tonight. Same place as usual. Shitty beer, but it’s cheap and the other division’s buying a few rounds, so they’ll get us drunk as hell. Wanna go?”

“You couldn’t have just called me with this question?” you ask, head still a little groggy. It’s well into the afternoon, but had Kishibe not come for this unexpected visit, you’d likely still be in bed.

“Nope, because then it’d be easier for you to come up with an excuse to blow us off,” he replies quickly - too quickly, almost as if he’d prepared this little speech beforehand. “So if you really don’t wanna go, that’s fine, no complaints here. All I ask is that you don’t say no out of instinct. I think it’d be good, y’know, to get some space? Perspective, and shit like that? You’ll get to see a few people from other divisions, too. I know you’re probably tired of looking at my face every day, handsome as it may be.”

He’s looking at you directly, presenting his case in such a typically Kishibe way; straightforward, reasoned, calm, logical. And still just a little bit annoying.

Part of you is still a little resentful as to how he can bounce back so quickly and appear so unaffected by all of this. He’s still so unperturbed by it all.

But a bigger part of you appreciates that he gives enough of a damn to come out here and check up on you after a particularly difficult mission. You know of plenty of hunters who get stuck with partners who couldn’t care less whether they lived or died, let alone bothered to check on their mental well-being.

For all his faults, he’s a good guy. Irritating at times and a bit too sure of himself, but a good guy nonetheless. He’s trying to cheer you up and, try as you might, you can’t think of a valid reason to turn down his request.

“Fine, I’ll go.”

His shoulders relax ever-so-slightly. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say he’s almost relieved.

“See you there at around eight o clock, so?” he inquires, though it’s more of a statement than a question.

“Sure thing.”

His smile turns mischievous, a transformation you see far too often.

“Want me to wear something nice? I have a nice red lacy number you might like-”

He doesn’t get to finish the sentence before you close the door in his face.

“See you later!” he calls out, voice muffled on the other side of the door. You hear his footsteps as they traipse down the hallway of your apartment building, and then he’s gone.

This is fine. You can stomach a few short hours of socialising with the other divisions. It couldn’t be that difficult, could it? You know a few of them already and you have Kishibe there to back you up if any of them get too messy. Your partner is a big drinker, but he can hold it well. Better than most people, actually (yet another frustrating thing about him).

As you start to walk back to your kitchen to make the first of many coffees, you start to notice something. It’s subtle, and you can’t quite place what it is until you’ve finished preparing your drink.

You groan out loud once you realise what you've noticed.

Even with the earthy aroma of the freshly-ground coffee beans filling your kitchen, you can still smell Kishibe’s aftershave.

It feels like … like it’s on you, or something. It feels like it’s all over your body.

You’re not complaining about the aftershave itself, obviously. It actually smells pretty nice - you’d never say it to his face, but the man has good taste.

You’re just annoyed because it’s yet another reminder that Kishibe is everywhere.

Whether it’s through these impromptu visits, through his frequent texts and emails, or just in the course of your work, he’s absolutely everywhere. He’s there when you wake up, he’s there while you work, he’s even there whenever you try to get some peace and quiet at the café or in bars after work.

And after last night, he seems to be in your dreams, too, but you won’t dwell on that any further. Not if you have any hope of catching a break from him.

You don't let yourself panic. You reason that dreams are just the mind’s way of processing what it experiences throughout the day. It means nothing. Having a dream involving a colleague, of him taking you in his arms, holding you close, touching you where you need to be touched …

… it’s just a sign that you spend way too much time together.

You clutch your favourite mug in your hands, feeling the heat warm your palms. It’s a standard mug, plain white porcelain with “World’s Best Boss” printed on the side; a gift from your former partner.

You think about what happened to her, and feel a lump form in your throat.

No. Can’t get too close.

___

When you arrive at the bar later that night, you find it to be so packed with hunters that the place is flooded with cigarette smoke. The air is so dense it’s almost a fog, the haze of it obscuring your vision slightly. You can see where you’re going but it’s difficult to make out faces.

You can only hope that you don’t walk up to someone, mistake them for Kishibe, and call them a fucking idiot out of instinct. He’d never let you live it down if he found out.

You cough to clear your throat as you make your way to the booths in search of your partner, trying to dodge the people pushing past with arms full of beer glasses.

It’s not long before you spot him - or rather, hear him.

“Hey!” he shouts to you from over your shoulder, and you spin around to see him standing right behind you. His speech is muffled by the cigarette between his lips, his tie is loose and the top buttons of his shirt are undone, and you see the pale-pink border of scar decorating his chest that would usually be hidden by his jacket. He’s holding a beer in one hand and so places the other on your shoulder with uncharacteristic gentleness, guiding you over to the booth on the furthest left-hand side of the room. “You’re an honorary smoker now!”

Any other day you’d slap his hand away, interpreting the gesture as being just typical Kishibe trying to irritate you with overfamiliarity. However, after the mission the two of you just had, you choose to let it slide.

It might be time to start giving him the benefit of the doubt.

Maybe, if you tried, you could even grow to like him.

… but that thought doesn’t seem right. No, not right at all; because you didn’t have to try. Maybe you already do like him, and it happened without you even realising.

You take a sip from the glass of whiskey that someone’s just shoved into your hand and you feel the warmth spread down your throat and through your chest.

God, need to be careful.

The realisation hits you like a brick wall; you absolutely and unequivocally must not get too attached to Kishibe. You can’t. You won’t.

Getting personally involved with someone in your line of work is one of the most reckless things a person can do. If luck is on his side and he isn’t killed or seriously injured at some point in the near future, then you definitely will be the one to die instead. Your chances of passing away from natural causes are slim to none.

There’s no real hope for a nice, happy, white-picket-fence future; you gave that up long ago. To indulge in the new and silly feelings you’re experiencing for the man whose hand is still clasped on your shoulder … it would be foolish.

Your best hope at happiness is to be fond of Kishibe from a distance. To tolerate him as a partner and respect him as a colleague, and leave it at that. No more, no less.

Once you’ve arrived at the booth - his touch still so noticeable on the exposed skin near your neck - he introduces you to three devil hunters. You greet the two men who you recognise as being from another division, along with a woman with an eye patch and striking white hair. From word of mouth, you��d assume this is Quanxi, the famous former partner Kishibe had worked with for a couple of years before being reassigned.

You take a seat next to her while your partner sits across from you next to the two men, and even as you settle into conversation with the rest of the group, it takes a surprising amount of effort to try and ignore that you miss having him within touching distance.

You need a distraction and, thankfully, you grow to like Quanxi very quickly. She’s blunt and straightforward but makes good conversation. She tells you enough embarrassing stories about Kishibe to last you a lifetime and has a similar outlook on life as you do; she’s practical but not emotionless, reserved but still dedicated to her work.

Unfortunately for you, she’s also very observant.

“You don’t drink much?” she asks out of the blue as Kishibe gets up to fetch another round. “Kishibe told me you don’t smoke, but from the look of your glass … you’re still on your first beer, whereas those two,” she adds, pointing dismissively at the other two hunters, “are nearly finished with their fourth.”

“ ... I had a whiskey before I sat down.”

“Even still,” Quanxi counters, holding up her empty whiskey glass for emphasis - she must have finished the bottle by now.

You shrug, unsure as to what your answer would even be. “Tonight’s just an off night for me, I guess.”

“Why?”

“I just have a lot on my mind,” you admit. It’s uncharacteristically candid of you considering you’ve only just met, but Quanxi seems trustworthy. “I’m scared that drinking will make it … a bit harder to deal with.”

Luckily, Quanxi doesn’t seem too eager to push the topic. “Fair enough. As long as it’s not because you think it … tastes bad, or something.”

You see her glance over to Kishibe for a split second, so quick it’s almost not noticeable. She grins, then, and you know for sure that he’s been talking about you.

Kishibe, you swear to yourself. If the devils don’t kill him then you will.

___

A couple of hours pass before you excuse yourself to step outside for some fresh air. It’s not an excuse - you really do need some air, as even the heaviest smokers in the bar have started to complain about how stuffy it’s become. You don’t feel too guilty about needing a break.

The night air is cold but fresh and crisp and so you welcome it, inhaling deeply into your lungs as you round the corner to the quiet alley next to the bar. Once there, you rest your back against the cool stone of the wall. You’re wearing only a skirt and a silk blouse, your jacket hanging up inside the bar, but you don’t shiver.

You look up to the sky to try and see some stars, only to find them shielded by a thick covering of dark clouds.

It could rain at any moment, you think to yourself. You really hope it doesn’t.

“Quanxi scare you off?” a familiar voice calls out from the corner, attracting your attention. “Anything she told you about me is a lie, promise. Unless it’s good, then it’s extremely true.”

You chuckle softly. “No, just needed some air.”

“Same here,” Kishibe says cordially, walking over to you with his hands in his pockets. “Too warm in there.”

You watch him approach you with a soft smile and see that his walk is steady. He’s either not drunk at all or he’s very good at hiding it.

Your curiosity gets the better of you and so you point it out.

“Kishibe, you’re not drinking as much as usual.”

He chuckles. He’s reached where you’re standing and decides to follow your lead, resting his back against the wall and tilting his head upwards to see what you were looking at before. The two of you stay there, looking at the blank night sky.

He clears his throat, voice still conversational and relaxed when he starts speaking.

“Between the drinking and the smoking … you’re awful concerned about my health recently, aren’t ya?”

“Just being nosy, I guess,” you say, writing it off as plain old curiosity. You can’t think of any other reason for noticing it.

“But you’re right, I’m taking it easy tonight,” he continues. “Not in the mood.”

“Weren’t you the one who wanted to come here to get shitfaced?”

He shrugs. “No fun getting shitfaced by yourself, though, is it?”

“Ouch,” you chuckle, clutching your chest for dramatic effect. “I know I’m kinda quiet tonight, but-“

“Nah, I didn’t mean it like that,” he grins with a roll of his eyes. “I just don’t know the guys in there all that well, and the ones that I do know are fucking idiots when they’re wasted. Quanxi holds her liquor too well to even get tipsy, and you’re barely drinking, so I’m following your lead.”

Now it’s your turn to feel surprised. You thought you were the more observant of the two of you, but it turns out Kishibe notices the same things.

“I’m a good influence, then.”

Kishibe snorts at that, but somehow the sound is endearing. “Don’t go that far. We’re both still in this shitty job, so you can’t be all that sensible.”

“Oh, I’m not,” you agree, laughing too. “I’m good enough at wasting our pitiful little paycheck.”

“On what?”

He’s still grinning but looks genuinely curious, and huh, you have to stop and think on that one. You don’t really have any major vices (that you can think of), and you’re not a compulsive shopper, but you still manage to spend your money every month.

It’s not worth feeling guilty over, though; you just like surrounding yourself with little pleasures to distract from the grim nature of your work.

You like getting nice furniture for your apartment, and this certain fancy brand of coffee. You like going to a local gallery and being able to buy any painting you want …

… and, as you said earlier, you like things that taste good.

“I spend a lot of money on coffee,” you start. “Too much money. More than you spend on cigarettes, probably.”

“That’s-”

“A lot, I know,” you roll your eyes before continuing. “I also buy paint, canvases, brushes … things like that.”

“You paint?”

“A little. When I get the chance.”

He raises his eyebrows thoughtfully. Seems you’ve genuinely surprised him for once.

You keep going - now that you’ve remembered your little shopping list, it’s hard to stop the thoughts from flowing out.

“And I got this green couch for my apartment. Ridiculously expensive, but I’ve wanted it for ages. I sometimes buy old books, too, and I always get this overpriced lip balm that tastes like apples.”

You pause then, to show you’re finished recalling your expenses. You have to laugh at the bemused expression on Kishibe’s face.

“That it?” he asks, but he sounds suitably impressed. Like you’ve finally opened up to him in a way he can appreciate.

“That’s it, I think.”

He’s so close to you now that you’re practically shoulder-to-shoulder. You’re both just resting against the wall having a friendly chat, but the closeness feels … it feels both familiar and unfamiliar at the same time. You’re used to having him always there, but never within touching distance. Never so casual and easy and enjoyable.

He clears his throat.

“So all that … that’s what you’re wasting all your money on? I’ll remember that next time I foot the bill for lunch.”

”I forgot my wallet one time,” you answer, shoving his shoulder with yours, “one time ever. Surely you’ve financially recovered by now.”

You’re not sure what possesses you, but as you’re still standing side-by-side, you lean your head down to rest it against his shoulder. It feels natural, like something you don't even have to think about. Kishibe was close, he was right there, and you wanted him closer.

His voice doesn’t betray any surprise at your actions, but the way the muscles in his arm tense as you nestle against him shows that he wasn’t expecting it.

But the fact that he doesn’t give you any shit for it or shrug you off means that he doesn’t object.

“I guess we can go to yours for coffee from now on,” he points out. “Since you’re apparently a coffee snob, and I’m clearly torturing you with the shit excuse for a beverage they serve at the café.”

“True,” you agree, “though maybe we can try to have a cup indoors for once. Just for the novelty of it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I’d like to see if it tastes any better when I’m not freezing my ass off while you have a smoke.”

“We could go now, if you want?” he asks then, and you feel everything slow down around you.

You’re grateful to be resting against his shoulder because it means he misses your perplexed expression, your eyes widening as he finishes his question.

What does he mean by ‘go now’? Go where? The café closes just after lunch. You never go there unless you’re on a case. It’s the middle of the night, there are no other cafes even open nearby …

As if reading your mind, he elaborates.

“No, not go to the café,” he says, voice lower than you’ve ever heard it. It’s deep now, almost gravelly, instead of that usual ‘so smug it’s almost chirpy’ tone he utilises when he’s trying to annoy you on missions. His voice sounds nice - so nice that an inconvenient tingle spreads in your chest as you hear it. “I meant we could go back to yours. For some of that ridiculously expensive coffee, I mean.”

Is he trying to mess with you? It almost feels like a game, like he’s trying to trick you into saying something that will only make life more inconvenient for the both of you.

“You want coffee at midnight?” you ask, slowly.

“Sure do,” he answers without hesitation. “If you’ll be so kind as to host.”

You draw your head back and look at him quizzically. You know exactly how he acts when he’s messing with you and this isn’t it. He’s not smirking when he speaks; instead, he’s looking at you with an uncharacteristic softness in his eyes. It throws you off in a way that’s not entirely unpleasant, and so you say,

“Sure, let’s head back to mine.”

___

You grab your jacket from inside the bar as Kishibe hails a cab, and before you know it, the two of you are standing at your doorstep, just as you were earlier today when he invited you out. You feel different now, though; adrenaline coursing through your veins for no discernable reason.

This all feels surreal. You and Kishibe here, alone, after hours, without the convenience of a mission to keep you distracted. And yet, you don’t dwell on it.

You’re moving as if possessed, desperately avoiding any overthinking of your actions as you take him by the hand and guide him through the door to your hallway, through to the kitchen then. Neither of you says anything as you walk. You only let go of his hand when you arrive at the countertop where you keep the coffee, resting a hand against the surface to ground yourself.

The kitchen is dark since you didn't bother the turn on the lights. Only the glow of the streetlamps illuminates the room, casting a glow over the two of you.

You blink up at him. He stays looking at you pensively.

You’re still not sure how literally he was speaking when he mentioned wanting coffee. Would he laugh at you if you started to brew some? You want to touch him again, want to feel him ever closer than he was before, but … have you misinterpreted the situation entirely?

Kishibe clears things up for you. He steps in your direction, shoulders set and expression difficult to place. He’s not touching you yet but he’s so gotten so close now … closer than colleagues or partners or even friends tend to go, only inches away from your body.

He’s so close you can feel whisps of his hair tickling your forehead, you can see the crinkles in his shirt and the outline of the lighter in his jacket pocket.

He stop then, hesitating, eyes scanning your face.

“You okay?” he asks, smiling at you - a kind smile, not brass or cocky.

You nod, the movement shallow and jerky and perhaps a bit too quick.

“Yeah, just … my head’s all over the place.”

“Nothing has to happen,” he replies quietly. “We can just have coffee, if you’d prefer.”

“So you really want coffee?” you ask, eyebrow raised. “We’re sticking with that story?”

“Doesn’t have to be coffee,” he counters. “Tea, water, I don’t care. I just … I like spending time with you.”

You return his smile just as genuinely. “You’re being so … nice.”

“You sound surprised.”

“Well, I am,” you say emphatically. “Did I accidentally bring someone else’s partner home?”

He laughs, a nice sound, and your heart hammers against your ribcage.

“Nope. Stuck with me, I’m afraid.”

His answer is conversational and friendly, but the look in his eyes betrays him. You know he means it.

You know it’s stupid. It doesn’t make sense, because he’s your partner, and you’re supposed to be objective, and it goes against every rational thought in your brain.

But the idea of being stuck with him sounds so appealing ... you can’t pay much attention to your rational side.

It’s not Kishibe who closes the distance between the two of you; instead, you step closer, fisting your hands into the fabric of his shirt, and then press your lips to his.

It’s not a slow kiss. It starts intense and it only builds from there, teeth almost clacking together as you tangle your hands in his hair. It’s clumsy, almost; he’s pawing your thighs, lower back, waist, as if he can’t decide where he wants to touch first. You take a gentle grip on his hair, marvelling at how soft it feels in your hands, the silky tresses just so tuggable.

You’ll park that thought for later.

Kishibe deepens the kiss, running his tongue against your lips and then pushing into your mouth, not letting go of your body the whole time.

It’s funny; a part of you thought that he would be as confident and dominant in these circumstances as he is in his professional life -

(Yes, you’ve thought about it before … it’s not as though the thought of sleeping with him has never crossed your mind. You’re stubborn, but not blind.)

- but he’s taking as much as he’s giving, getting as much satisfaction from your reaction as he does from anything else. He moves with you, noting what you like as the moments pass, gauging your reaction from your whimpers and moans and the way you’re not-so-subtly rubbing against his thigh.

He kisses your neck, lingering on your pulse point, leaving a mark that you’re sure will be visible tomorrow. The thought is strangely thrilling; the idea of you and Kishibe working a case together, with marks all over your skin just begging to be noticed. Marks that show he wanted you all to himself and needed everyone to know it.

When you push your hips into his, feeling the bulge in his suit pants pressing against you, you tighten your grip on his hair. He notices and responds eagerly, grabbing your ass over the thin fabric of your skirt and pressing you flush against him. The heat of his body makes your mind go numb.

You can smell his aftershave again, all over your body as he kisses and rubs and touches, but you have no complaints this time.

He leans in as if to kiss you again but stops just short, lips brushing against yours as he speaks.

“You have no idea how badly I want this,” he murmurs. “How badly I’ve wanted it. But … it might make things just a little bit complicated.”

“I’m okay with it if you are,” you whisper, looking into his eyes to show your confidence in your answer. You’re too far gone to back out now. You haven’t felt touch like this in so long, having kept yourself so guarded and withdrawn for years. Kishibe understands; he knows the risks of this job, and he knows how lonely it gets. He knows you so well. Knows what you need.

“I’m okay with it,” he says, lips quirked upwards. He’s still pressed against you, his thigh spreading your legs open slightly. “Want me to show you how much?”

His eyes flicker down your body past your chest, and you know exactly what he’s thinking about doing. Every inch of your skin feels hot. Your clit pulses at the very idea of what he’s suggesting - it seems like his confidence might pay off.

“I want you,” you reply. You think about finishing the sentence with something a bit more articulate, but Kishibe’s eyes darken at your earnest response, pupils blown out and expression ravenous.

He places a large hand on your thigh, the exposed skin tingling under his touch. He slides it up slowly, so slowly, grazing up to the seam of your underwear. He runs a finger over your clothed core and you gasp, hips almost bucking into his touch. His thumb circles your clit then returns to stroking the damp fabric between your legs, so impossibly close to where you need him.

He’s so close to it. So close - if he just angled his fingers a little more, he could plunge two inside you, wringing orgasm after orgasm from you as you melt underneath him.

“Please-“ you choke, the pleasure almost becoming an ache. “I … I need-“

“What do you need, baby?” he whispers into the shell of your ear, teeth giving a gentle tug on your lobe when he finishes his question. “What do you need from me?”

“More, please. More.“

He doesn’t ask you to elaborate any further. Instead, he guides you to the countertop, pressing you against it at first, unable to keep from connecting his mouth to some part of you for too long (this time, it’s the swell of your breasts over the neckline of your blouse).

Once he pulls back, lips leaving your cleavage with a wet ‘pop’, he helps you up onto the countertop. Once you’re sitting comfortably on the edge, he slides his hands up your thighs again. You feel the cool marble on the underside of your legs, pleasantly contrasting the heat of his hands.

He tugs at the waistband of your underwear and you lift your hips to allow him to pull them down, feeling the cold air against your exposed skin as he does so. You’re so wet and he notices immediately. His tongue swipes over his lower lip, a pink flush having settled across his cheekbones.

He’s annoyingly pretty like this, looking up at you from between your legs.

You want to make him feel good with your mouth too. The thought of it makes your head swim; between the tenting in his pants and the look on his face …

He cuts off your thoughts with a brush of his lips over your inner thigh. He kisses you again, leaving no inch of skin untouched as he gets closer and closer to your core.

When he reaches the divot at the very top of your thighs, he loses his control just a bit, pressing wet and sloppy kisses, the obscene sound of which would make you embarrassed in any other circumstances.

You let out a desperate, uncharacteristic mewl, but you don’t feel any embarrassment. This side of Kishibe - whose only aim is to make you come undone - you know that he won’t make fun of you. The only reaction he’s trying to get from you now is one of pure and mindless pleasure.

You gasp out loud as you finally get the contact you have been seeking; Kishibe presses a gentle closed-mouth kiss to your clit that makes your entire body shudder. With barely any contact he already has you quivering, goosebumps forming all over. The press of his mouth against your pussy is careful, explorative; lips and tongue tracing all over your slick flesh.

The first proper lick stokes a fire in your core, burning hot and desperate as you tighten your thighs around his face. His hands grip your legs and pull them apart further, allowing better access for what he wants to do.

Long, slow strokes up your folds and circles around your clit, all combining to make you feel pliant and boneless.

“Please … please … please …” you beg over and over, though you don’t want him to change anything, you just don’t want him to stop. You feel like crying at the thought of it being taken away for even a second, for him to stop the perfect movement of his tongue against your aching cunt. “Please keep going.”

He hums his approval and moves to start suckling your clit with just enough pressure to make your vision go white behind your now-shut eyes. You feel the slightest pressure against your entrance as he presses a finger hesitantly - you throw your head back with a desperate cry of “yes!”, and he pushes it in in one fluid motion.

You feel a bit conflicted about closing your eyes because the image in front of you is so enticing; a few strands of his dark hair are stuck to his forehead with the faint sheen of sweat that’s building as he fucks you with his fingers, his eyes looking up at you beseechingly through dark lashes with a particularly firm flick of his tongue …

You want to keep looking at him, you do, but you can’t. It’s too much. The sensation is building quicker than you can react to it, and so you lay back on the counter, your back arching as he keeps up his perfect pace.

The pleasure is low and warm and unending, deep inside you, and for a brief moment, it scares you that Kishibe is the one doing this to you.

Kishibe, your annoying coworker who you’re supposed to be keeping at arm’s length - he's the one making you scream and cry out his name as if it’s the only word you can remember.

Kishibe is the one who’s making your eyes roll back into your head, the one who’s taking you apart with just his mouth and fingers (now, two of them).

You’re surrendering yourself to him, and yet, you don’t have the slightest urge to halt any of it.

Heat starts collecting in your core, a ball of warm pleasure starting to grow and grow until you couldn’t contain it even if you wanted to. He can feel you tighten around his fingers and speeds up without altering the pressure, just giving you more of what you need. Your incoherent babbling only spurs him on.

When you tip over the edge and quiver desperately underneath him, coming apart entirely, it takes you by surprise; there was no build-up because it was all too overwhelming, too blinding, to be able to determine at what point exactly your pleasure started to crest.

It just takes over.

When you come down from it, you decide to take just a minute to collect yourself as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. You close your eyes again, blinking back the tears that collected against your waterline.

It’s a little strange. You haven’t had a sexual experience like that since … well, ever.

Thinking about things rationally, you come up with a few reasons for your very enthusiastic response. First and foremost, you haven’t had sex in a long time, not since joining the agency, not since dating became too messy. You’ve been a bit stressed, too, a bit pent up. You needed some relief. You haven’t had any … alone time in a while, either.

But as you noted earlier, you’re not listening to the rational part of your brain tonight. Not one of those reasons explains the effect Kishibe just had on you.

And the most confusing part is that even after making you come harder than you have in years, you want him even more intensely now.

Sitting up on the counter, you drag him in for another kiss, tasting yourself on his lips. You run your hands up his chest, fingers grazing off the tell-tale outline of the cigarette box in his pocket. You move to rest your hands against his nape, feeling the prickliness of his undercut against your fingertips.

His pants are still on but you can feel he’s painfully hard, straining against his zipper as he clings to you.

He starts unbuttoning your shirt and you do the same to his, taking in the view of his sharply-cut torso as he sheds his clothes.

It’s all lean muscle, thin white-lined scars covering his chest, a few freckles here and there. A painful-looking blue-black bruise sits above his hip and you frown upon noticing it. He pries your hand away from his shirt buttons, bringing your index finger to his lips and kissing it softly.

“I’m fine,” he reassures you. “Don’t worry about it.”

You want to press further but relent at the last moment, going back to finish your task of unbuttoning his shirt. You can be concerned later; now, he needs you as much as you need him.

“Where do you want to -?” he asks, trailing off at the end.

You widen your eyes suggestively, glancing down at the countertop beneath you.

He scoffs. “... here?”

You shrug, smirking coyly. “Why not? Curtains are shut. And even if they weren't, it's not like we haven't disgraced ourselves enough already.”

“Can’t argue with that,” he says with a grin, eyes flicking down to catch a glimpse of your chest.

You hop down from the counter and kiss him again, hastily unzipping his pants and taking him out of his underwear. Thick and heavy in your hand - the overconfidence comes from somewhere, obviously - you feel him throb against your touch.

A few gentle strokes and he’s groaning, eyes shut and head tilted back, beads of precum gathering at the tip. Your mouth waters at the sight; Kishibe, having just opened his eyes, snaps when he sees the effect this is having on you. He spins you around and bends you over the counter, tugging your skirt up above your hips. You’re standing here so exposed - no shirt, no underwear, only the thin fabric of your skirt shielding your naked form - but you trust him now, just as much as you do when your life is in his hands.

He drags the tip of his cock against your pussy and you gasp.

You’re not sure how, but you feel empty without him inside, even though you haven’t even felt it yet.

You spread your legs for him, wet and stretched enough to take whatever he has to give you.

As the head of his cock pushes inside you, Kishibe is the one to moan then, deep and low.

“Oh baby,” he breathes. “Oh, sweetheart, you feel so good already, my love. You’re squeezing right around me, fuck,” he stills against you, hands on your hips preventing you from sliding back against him. “I … I need a second.”

“Done already?” you tease, looking back at him over your shoulder, your shaking legs barely supporting you. You grip the countertop more firmly to steady yourself. “Surely not?”

“Can you wait a few minutes to give me shit?” he retorts, and you feel his smile as he presses a kiss between your shoulder blades. “Usually I’d say you’d have every right, but I don’t think you want to get into that right now.” He pushes in further then, inch by inch. “Or do you?”

“You’re right,” you laugh airily, “you’re right, just … keep doing that, please.”

He slides in further, almost to the hilt now. He grips your hips with both hands as he seats himself fully inside you.

You knew it would be a stretch, but this - the feeling of being so impossibly and blissfully full - takes you by surprise nonetheless. He stays there for just another moment as you adjust to him and you feel his thumb stroke slow, soothing circles along your lower back as you inhale slow and deep.

You push back against him when you’re ready for him to start moving, and he doesn’t hesitate. Pulling his hips back, he thrusts back inside you with a groan, the slap of skin against skin echoing around the kitchen. He sets a strong, steady pace; hips snapping against yours as you rest your forehead on the counter, chest bouncing as he fucks into you as though he’s thought about doing this for years.

Kishibe reaches over and grabs your hands from the counter, crossing them behind your back and holding them in place with his own. This position means you arch further, allowing him to thrust deeper inside you, reaching spots you never thought anyone could hit.

His grip on your wrists is tight but it never hurts; he’s handling you with such care, far more thoughtfully than you would have expected. That being said, he’s not treating you like you’re fragile or breakable - you wouldn’t like it if he did - rather, he’s touching you like your enjoyment is by far the most important aspect of this. He’s treating you like a partner.

You turn your head so your cheek is resting on the surface. You just want to angle yourself so you can look back and see him. You need to see him, you need to know if he’s as fucked out as you are, reduced to utter desperation, unable to focus on anything other than the fact that you’re so tight and drenched and messy around him.

When you see him, your breath hitches. Your guess wasn’t too far off.

Kishibe’s flushed now, pink tinting his face and neck, and his chest rises with short, shallow, primal pants. He’s biting down hard on his lower lip, so much so you think it might bleed, and he’s looking right at you, meeting your gaze head-on. His brows are knit tightly together, jaw pulled tight as he keeps his focus on you. He looks to be as close as you are.

When neither of you look away, unable to tear your eyes off eachother, he speeds up his thrusts. He’s chasing his end now; his pace is frenetic, and he lets out a throaty groan when his cock slips out at one point, the speed of his movements and the wetness between your legs making everything a messy, perfect blur.

“You’re so beautiful, I can’t fucking stand it,” he says, punctuating his sentence with a disbelieving chuckle, “I should have said it sooner. Fuck, you’re so, so beautiful, it drives me insane.”

He lets go of one of your hands, keeping the other pinned behind your back, and you quickly bring it between your legs and trace circles around your clit with your fingers. You’re so wet - both from his mouth and from the way he’s fucking into you now - that you can hear your fingers moving, which means Kishibe can too.

He leans down and moves his free hand to join yours, collecting some of the wetness between your legs and rubbing your clit in tandem with your movements. You shift your position to allow him to touch you as he wants to, the weight of him against your back and the warmth of his breaths hitting your damp skin wringing a carnal moan from you.

“So pretty for me, aren’t you?” he says, almost reverent. “So pretty like this. I could do this for hours - could hear you make those noises for the rest of my life, fuck, you’re doing so, so well, my love.”

You feel it build so quickly that you gasp his name in surprise, the word almost sounding like a question. He understands, keeping the pace of both his thrusts and the circling of his fingers consistent.

It washes over you like a tidal wave; pulses of explosive pleasure rippling through your muscles, making your legs shake and your eyes squeeze shut. Your breath catches in your chest, only a shaky, weak-sounding moan escaping your lips - you can’t even think of any words right now, let alone speak them.

“Baby, baby, baby,” Kishibe mutters repeatedly, “oh, fuck, that’s it.”

You feel his cock pulse inside you, his hand releasing the arm that’s still behind your back as he grips your hips instead, grinding into you as deeply as he can. A few more shallow thrusts follow, aftershocks making your cunt flutter around him, and then he stills again, the sound of both your heavy breathing filling the room.

He doesn’t pull out right away. He straightens you up a little, pressing a gentle kiss to the back of your neck and rubbing up and down your arm. It feels nice; you feel so serenely calm at that point, you could almost fall asleep resting against him.

He straightens up fully once both of your heart-rates return to normal and the sweat on your skin starts to cool, and then he pulls out, grabbing a tissue from the counter to clean for you.

You fumble with your skirt to pull it further down your thighs - not to hide anything from him, but to provide the tiniest bit of warmth now that Kishibe’s body heat is no longer distracting from the cold.

He picks up his jacket from the floor and walks behind you to rest it on your shoulders. You smile gratefully, letting silence settle between you. He stays there, wrapping an arm around you from behind.

“Do you want me to head away?” he asks, and you can tell from his tone that he wouldn’t be upset if you did.

You shake your head.

You don’t want him to go yet. Not just yet, not when you’re still processing all that’s just happened.

“I know it could get complicated,” you begin, trying to reason with him and yourself. “But ... no. I don't want you to go. I ... you can stay over. If that's something you'd like to do.”

“I would."

You let out a short chuckle, half-relief and half-bemusement. “Then I think we shouldn’t talk about complications anymore. For a while, anyway."

“I agree completely,” he mumbles against the crook of your neck.

“First time for everything.”

“You wound me,” he whispers, feigning offence but kissing your hairline anyway. “So does this mean I get a tour of your apartment now?”

Taking the hand that’s wrapped out you, you tug him in the direction of your bedroom. He makes a few characteristic comments on your furniture choices and you elbow him without any malice, pointing out some of your favourite pieces as you make your way through your apartment.

It feels strangely normal; you crossed this boundary together, but the world hasn’t fallen down around you.

He’s still the same, you’re still the same … mostly.

You know there’ll be a conversation tomorrow. It can’t go unaddressed considering you spend your working day together, but there’s no use spoiling the serene temporary escape the two of you have carved out for yourselves.

You reach your bedroom and he follows you into bed wordlessly, draping an arm around your waist and pulling you into his chest. You interlock his fingers with yours.

Nestled in the sheets with him, you fall asleep more quickly that you have done in recent memory.

After your entire adult life spent on death’s door, you allow yourself to feel an emotion you barely even recognise anymore.

You feel safe.

#kishibe x reader #kishibe x you #csm kishibe #kishibe #may tries to write

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muddyorbsblr · 4 months

Text

slipping between future and past [SAS secret santa 2023]

View the full SAS Secret Santa 2023 Masterlist here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: You give your friend a few pointers on what to know about Yule, and come across a familiar looking stranger in your bookstore.

Pairing: Loki x Reader/OC Talia Williams

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, please leave I'm asking nicely); unprotected p in v sex; cunnilingus; magical restraints; language; possibly wonky interpretation of time travel & timeslipping; possibly wonky understanding of Yule [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: established relationship; still written in 2nd Person POV like my other 'x Reader' stories, but this time Reader has a name and it's "Talia Williams"; this is a secret santa request for @acidcasualties

Dick-tionary: smut starts at "the feel of your hands being brought" and ends at "as he marked your skin"

It was uncharacteristically slow today in the bookstore, barely a handful of people walking in, browsing for a few minutes, and then promptly exiting when they see that you didn't carry the middle school dystopia book series all the kids were raving over. It was a colossal waste of their time and yours, considering there would have been less effort had they just taken even a cursory look at the sign by the door.

You didn't carry children's books. Classics, Myths, and Romance only.

Of the number of people that walked through the doors that you could count on your two hands, you could only count those that actually made a purchase with one. Half of one.

The sound of the door chimes brought your attention to the entrance again, seeing your friend Ariadne bounding into the front area of the store with a frantic look in her eye. "Talia," she panted, headed straight for you. "Babes, I need your help. Are you busy? You got a customer back there?"

"Nope. Just me," you called out, stepping out from behind the counter. "What's wrong? What do you need?"

"Okay so…you know that guy I'm seeing?"

"Uhh…I think so? Lee, right?"

"Leif. Think trees, Babes. Anyways, he wants me to meet his family and apparently they're super into the ancient Norse traditions, so I need a crash course on how they celebrate Christmas." She paced back and forth by the table that held the New York Times bestsellers that you did hold stock for, picking up a copy of the stalker dark romance duology. "His sister likes to read, you think she'll appreciate this?"

You immediately rushed over to her, grabbing the book and nearly slamming it back down on the stack. "You gotta let them crawl before they walk. Let alone sprint," you explained, giving her Beautiful Bastard instead. "This should be a good enough in between, just in case she's not into guns being shoved up anyone's vagina--"

Up where?! she shrieked, grabbing the first book again, along with the sequel and the book you were handing her. "Okay I'll take that for his sister, and these two for me."

"This is exactly why we're friends," you quipped, ringing up her order. "Now about that other thing…you do know that just because I own a bookshop, it doesn't mean that I know everything about everything, right?"

She rolled her eyes at you. "Yeah, but I also know that you live for all these myths and folk tales, so I bet you know a thing or two about Viking Christmas."

"Alright fine. Find a chair and settle in," you said with an overly dramatic wave of your hand. "First things first, it's not called 'Viking Christmas', it's called 'Yule'. Immediately if you wanna get on his family's good side, you say Good Yule because it shows that you did at least a customary Google search before you stepped foot on their property." You handed her a small notepad and a pencil. "You're gonna wanna write this down."

When her scribbling down stopped, she perked up with a question. "Do they have a Santa Claus?"

"Yes and no," you answered her, prepping two cups of coffee and handing one over to her before plopping down on your own seat in the reading nook, your favorite one in the entire shop. "Santa Claus is what we call who the Brits refer to as 'Father Christmas'. The Brits got that from 'Yule Figure' from the Viking mythology and Mr Yule Figure himself is...Odin."

"Wait wait hold up." She shot up her hand like a kid asking questions in class. "So Odin is Santa? He goes around little Viking kiddies' neighborhoods and slides down the chimney to give them wooden axes and swords?"

"Hmmm not quite. The whole making a list and checking it twice to give the good little boys and girls presents on Christmas is...not quite how the Vikings do it. Instead they engage in something called the Wild Hunt, where Odin aka Big Yule Father Kahuna calls on his posse of gods and plays a game of non-consensual hide and seek with the living souls. So us being the 'living mortals', we have to find a safe enough hiding place that Odin and Thor and the rest of the Norse gods don't find us, because if they do…they drag us to the Underworld."

"Okay first of all, yikes." Ariadne made a big show of shuddering in her seat over what you just told her. "Can't it be something a little bit less morbid? Like if Thor finds you he drags you to his den of iniquity and has his wicked way with you?"

"I mean it's all myths and folklore anyway," you shot back with a small shrug as you finished off your coffee. "So maybe when the big girls are off in their own corner, we can smut it up and pretend that if someone other than Odin finds us, we can get some happy fun times." You both broke out into giggles at your wording. "And when we're telling the story to the smaller kiddos, we say that the gods only go after the naughty kids. Keep with the spirit of Christmas and all that." You wagged a finger in her direction, giving her another suggestion. "Or in the case of meeting Leif's family, just think which one's gonna have him more devastated, your soul getting dragged into the Underworld or your body getting dragged to Thor's man cave."

She wrote down some more notes on her little notepad before standing up, brimming with excitement. "Okay I think that's all I need. Hopefully…"

"Babes, you're there to meet the family, not get gatekeeper gamer boy levels of interrogated on what you know about Yule. As soon as you don't say 'Merry Viking Christmas', you're in the clear."

She squealed, rushing over to wrap her arms around you and give you a tight squeeze. "Thank you thank you! You just saved me from looking a total ditz meeting his family. I have a really good feeling about this one, you know?"

You gave her a squeeze back, happy that she was finally in a relationship that felt stable enough to start on that family she'd always wanted.

Maybe one day you could be so lucky with your own love life.

"I'm really happy for you, Aria. Let me know how it goes when you get back, okay?"

You worked on wrapping up the book she intended to gift Leif's sister as she asked you another question. "What about mistletoe? Do they have that in Yule?"

You scrunched her nose and shook your head at her question. "Yes and no again. Yes, they've assigned meaning to the plant but no, you don't kiss under it for fear of spending the next year all alone. They believe it to be a symbol for fertility, so it's been known for couples to hang it above their headboards so that their holiday fun times might lead to a child. It's also seen as a symbol for new life or resurrection because there's another folktale that says that Loki fashioned a weapon from the mistletoe plant to kill Baldur, and Frigga's tears turned the white berries red and resurrected her fallen son. Which if you ask me is a steaming pile of horse shit that's almost more ridiculous than how Siegfried was felled in the Nibelungenlied, but that's a story for another day."

"Hold up, but isn't Loki also a son of Frigga?"

You shrugged. "Who knows what's real and what's not at this point? These tales are thousands of years old. All we know right now is that Thor's real and he's friends with a billionaire that made a fancy iron suit and a soldier from the 40s that doesn't even look like he's hit his mid-20s. And that he dated an astrophysicist. Tell you what, if I ever meet him, I'll ask him myself. Maybe I'll even ask him what exactly goes down in the Wild Hunt if they still do it in this century."

"Ooh, if he walks into the store please text me?" You gave her a questioning look. "What? He's my hall pass. Leif knows all about it. Natasha Romanoff's his."

You handed her the gift-wrapped book. "Pinky promise, I'll tell you as soon as a 6'4 muscular Barbie looking dude from Asgard swinging a hammer and summoning thunder and lightning walks into my shop. Maybe I'll even text you if the Black Widow herself walks in so that Leif would owe a favor or two."

"Hey, it could happen," she quipped, sticking her tongue out at you like you were back in the sandbox. "We're in New York, after all. And Avengers Tower's just a ten minute walk away. You never know, you know?"

"Right," you breathed, waving her off as she neared the door. "Merry Yule."

"Merry Crisis," she shot back, blowing you a kiss as she stepped into the cold New York night.

You started cleaning the store so you could close up for the night when a new voice pierced through the quiet.

"I appreciate your refusal to believe that hokum about the mistletoe, darling. It warms my cold Jotun heart knowing that it's safe in your brilliant hands."

Large hands found themselves at your waist before your new visitor's arms wrapped around you from behind, your body going frigid at the action. "Who--?"

"Oh no..." He immediately released you from his hold, allowing you to come face to face with a towering man with onyx curls and a devastatingly handsome face that seemed vaguely familiar. "I must have gone back too far this time." He took a step toward you, his hands twitching in your direction as if he wanted to go back to where he was just a few seconds ago. If you were being honest with yourself, you wouldn't object. "Sweetheart, who am I to you?"

"What? This time?" You raised an eyebrow at him, confusion coating your words. "You trying to tell me we met before? Because trust me I'd remember meeting someone that looked like you."

"Who am I to you? What do you know of me?" he asked again, his brows upturned at the center of his forehead, his expression reminding you of a baby kitten pleading for affection.

"Not much," you admitted. "You look like the guy that tore up a hole in the sky and rode some space chariot while leading an alien army that laid waste on the city that I call home...and the guy that went up against Iron Man and his friends, including that big green scary monster looking dude."

He hung his head, looking down at the ground as he let out a long sigh. "I don't just look like that guy, darling, I--" He exhaled sharply before composing himself again. "I am that guy. Well, I was. And Banner's honestly not that terrifying once you get to know him." He looked at you again, seeing your hand and beginning to look emotionally deflated. "I went too far back."

"You know who else you look like?" you asked him, a smirk playing at your mouth as you reached for the chain around your neck, showing him the ring that hung in its center, closing the distance he put between you. "You look like my future husband."

The relief was written all over Loki's face as he eyed the ring he'd given you, a brilliant smile gracing his features when he pulled you into his arms and laid his lips on yours. You melted into the kiss, pressing yourself against him as the god's arms wrapped around you, pulling you closer.

"My darling little mortal," he mumbled against your lips. "Somehow managing to fool a trickster god, for any amount of time, is a feat in and of itself." He kissed you again, lifting you off the ground and spinning you in a circle when you put your arms over his shoulders.

"Well you said it yourself, I'm brilliant," you answered him back when you pulled away, your fiancée keeping your feet off the ground. He adjusted his hold on you to hold you up by a single arm, making you giggle when he started walking toward the front door and made your keys materialize in his now free hand. "What're you doing, Mischief?"

"You're finished here for the night," he stated simply, all the lights turning off, along with the doors locking closed, and the sign in front flipping to "Closed" to indicate you'd retired for the night, with a simple wave of his hand. "I'm taking you home, little mortal. Close your eyes."

A breeze flew by your face and the next thing you knew your back was pressed against the familiar wooden column of your kitchen area. Loki crushed his lips to yours in a desperate kiss, both of you moaning into each other's mouths as he pressed your chests together, hands traveling down the sides of your body to wrap your legs around him.

The feel of your hands being brought above your head despite the god's hands still roaming and grasping at your thighs had your eyes snapping open, breaking the kiss with a little squeak from the back of your throat as you looked up. A thrill shot up your spine seeing a thick glowing ring of Loki's seiðr fastened around your wrists and keeping you tethered to the column behind you.

"I could not decide whether to reward you or punish you for getting the better of me earlier, my love," he rasped, latching his lips to your neck and sucking a bruise into your skin. He smirked against you when you started whimpering and arching into his touch within seconds. "So I shall do both."

You let out a whiny sound that had him lightly grasping your chin, running his thumb along your bottom lip to coax it into a pout. He kissed you again, nipping at your bottom lip before pulling away. Then another ring of his seiðr appeared at your hips, keeping them flush against the column as both rings began to lift you up, your feet soon leaving the ground until he was eye level with your pelvis.

He made a motion with his hand and suddenly you felt a breeze all over your body as he bared you to him, your clothes disappearing in a flash of green.

"Loki…" you whined, squirming under his predatory gaze as another ring of seiðr went around each of your legs, just above your knee, and opened you to him.

"I've not been home in ages, my darling mortal," he rasped, not taking his eyes off of your arousal as he licked his lips. "And I am famished." He took a step closer to you, lightly running his fingers up your inner thigh.

"Let--Let me down, then," you said shakily, feeling your walls quivering and clenching around nothing as he traced up your inner thigh again, only this time with the tip of his nose before pressing a tender kiss to your skin. "I can fix us something to--"

"Oh no, sweet Talia." He kissed you right below your belly button, groaning into your skin. "I do not crave food, my love." He continued to press kisses to your stomach, faintly chuckling when you tried to close your legs and his restraints kept you from moving even an inch. "Your reward is that I will not deny you any ounce of pleasure tonight. I have longed for you too much to deny you much of anything."

He moved his head lower, and you let out an obscene moan of his name as he ran his tongue along the length of your slit before slowly circling your clit.

"Your punishment…" he breathed, pressing slow lingering kisses and laving his tongue over your sensitive bundle of nerves. "No touching."

"Loki, wait--Oh f-fuck!" The room filled with your moans as he proceeded to alternate between long licks at your entrance and close his lips over your clit for what felt like a blissfully torturous eternity. He kept his word on not denying you anything as he brought you over the edge over and over again.

Your throat was raw from your constant moans and screams of his name and various expletives, already having lost count of how many times you came for him when he slid two devastatingly long fingers inside you and curled up, brushing against the spot that had you seeing stars. "One more, sweet girl," he mumbled around your clit, the vibrations from his voice already bringing you to the brink of orgasm yet again.

He moved your legs to rest your thighs on his shoulders, moaning against you when your entire body tensed as you came for him again, your pussy quivering against his mouth as he lapped at your release with languid strokes of his tongue. The restraints around your wrists and hips moved you down the column until your face was level with his, a weak whimper slipping from you when you saw how his lips glistened with your juices.

You barely registered the sound of the zipper as he kissed along your chest, biting and sucking more bruises into your skin. He lined himself up at your entrance, sliding into you in a single effortless thrust and eliciting a staggered sigh of relief from the god. "I've m-missed this," he whimpered between thrusts. "Missed you." Thrust. "My precious mortal." Thrust. "My wife." Thrust.

He threw his head back, letting out a decadent moan when you clenched around him after what he'd just called you. It had you desperately longing for your wedding day. Desperately aching to touch him. Just desperate for him.

"Please…" you whimpered, feebly fighting against the restraints again. When the rings holding you to the column finally disappeared, you could only let out a sharp exhale, your hand immediately clawing into your fiancée's back, the other weaving into his onyx curls.

Loki pressed you harder against the column, driving himself deeper inside you, his hands roaming and grasping wherever he could, as if he couldn't get enough of you. Couldn't touch you enough. He slanted his mouth over yours, moaning into the kiss when your tongues tangled together and you could taste your release on him. He adjusted his hold on you, letting out another muffled obscene sound into each other's mouths when the motion caused you to bounce on his cock.

Once he held you securely in his arms he started walking you further into your home, each step making you bounce on him and further weakening you in his embrace. He eased you down onto your bed, breaking the kiss and rendering you completely speechless watching his clothes melt away and baring his godly physique to you.

All you could do was breathe his name as he moved to hover over you again, pressing his lips to your cheek as he picked up the pace. He wrapped his hand around your knee, raising your leg to wrap it around his waist so he could drive into you harder. When you felt his fingers rubbing over your clit, the only sound that came out of you was a sharp moan, your body weakly arching against his hand before squeaking out, "I can't--"

"Just one more, dear heart. For me," he grunted, latching his lips onto that spot between your neck and shoulder as he kept on rubbing tight circles on the over-sensitized nub. Your legs shook and your walls convulsed around him, bring him to his own release as he marked your skin.

Once you both came down from your high, you felt his seiðr wash over you as he pulled you into his arms, putting the covers over you both with another wave of his hand. "I gotta be honest with you, sweetie, that felt a little pent up," you exhaled, a tiny part of you finding it unfair that he'd already resumed his regular breathing as if he didn't just fuck you senseless.

Damn Asgardian endurance.

"Because it was, precious mortal," he told you simply, tracing his finger along your cheek. "How long has it been since last you saw me?"

"Three months…give or take a week?" You braced yourself, already dreading what he'd say next.

"I have not seen you for over a year, my love," he confessed, pressing another kiss to your lips. "At least not like this. Every time I had seen you, you were yet to know me. There were worlds where you even outright feared me, scurrying away once you'd realized where you recognized me from. When I got to your shop earlier, I nearly believed I landed in another iteration of that world."

Suddenly your 'prank' from earlier left a sinking feeling in your stomach. "Loki, I'm sorry, I didn't know." You wrapped your arm around him, pressing yourself even closer to him if that were even possible, resting your head on his shoulder. "I just thought it'd be a bit of fun--"

"You have nothing to apologize for," he reassured you, brushing the tip of his nose along your own before softly kissing the spot. "But I have missed you terribly. Getting to hold you, to love you. To simply be here with you and enjoy a moment with my wife."

"Future wife," you pouted. "We're still in the planning phase, sadly. I take it the last time you saw me was sometime in our…future? I'm sorry this still gets confusing for me." He nodded his answer, pressing his lips to your forehead. "Well then the timelines better fucking behave because I refuse to let you go anywhere. I get that you're a big powerful hero now, and knowing that you're out there making sure that everyone's safe and gets to come home to their families? I couldn't be prouder. But you should get to come home, too." You pressed a kiss to his chest, just over his heart. "Preferably for longer than a quickie with your fiancé."

His brows furrowed, shaking his head at your sentiment before pulling you to lay on top of him, chests pressed together with his arms wrapped around you in a tight embrace. "I've come from a time where we were married and I called you my wife. Regardless of our pending ceremony, that is what you are to me now and what I will call you moving forward. No more of those semantics."

You nudged his chin with your nose, a giggle escaping you when he pulled you up to capture your lips in a soft kiss. "Tell me about it. The future…"

"When I found you, you were a force to be reckoned with. Planning your friend Aria's wedding--"

"Ah, so she and Leif really are headed for the fairytale happy ever after?"

"No no, you were planning the wedding in Asgard." You eyes widened at the new information. "She was set to marry Thor."

"Wait she what?!"

A/N: I'm so excited to participate in this year's Secret Santa again! This has been so much fun to write for both times around, and hopefully the story did justice to the request 🥹💖

The request from @acidcasualties:

secret santa 2023 taglist: @joyful-enchantress @mochie85 @holdmytesseract @sailorholly @lady-rose-moon @superficialdomina @cultofcarter @coldnique @ijuststareatstuffhereok89 @smolvenger @loz-3 @catsladen @lokisgoodgirl @acidcasualties @divine-knight-hand @quirkiest-turtle @glitchquake @nyxlaufeyson @fandxmslxt69 @holymultiplefandomsbatman

#loki smut #loki x reader #loki x reader smut #loki x female reader #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #muddyorbs writes #sas secret santa 2023

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engie-ivy · 5 months

Text

(I wrote a 'day-after-Sirius'-birthday' fic! Totally not just me being late for Sirius' birthday. Nope, not at all. This was planned. With a very Fluffy ending, because Sirius deserves happiness for his day-after-his-birthday!)

@wolfstarmicrofic 3rd: gather

862 words

Remus is doing his semester abroad, and Sirius goes to surprise him with a visit and a confession.

At Your Doorstep

Sirius tries to gather his courage. Not for the first time, he curses James Potter's name, while simultaneously thanking his lucky stars to have someone like James Potter in his life.

Yesterday was Sirius' birthday.

His birthday plans consisted of sitting at home playing sad songs on his guitar while wallowing in self-pity. James came to visit anyway. Sirius wouldn't have blamed him if he hadn't, as Sirius hasn't exactly been fun to be around lately.

Remus left two months ago to do his semester abroad. Of course, Sirius knew he was going to miss him, but god, he hadn't expected it to be this bad! He's been a shell of his normal self, acting cranky, short-tempered and withdrawn.

James did, however, manage to pique his interest with his birthday gift: plane tickets to go see Remus.

When Sirius immediately wanted to grab the tickets, James had quickly pulled them out of reach. "Uh-uh, if you want them, you must first accept the terms and conditions."

"And what are those?"

"You can only go if you promise that when you're there, you're going to tell Remus how you feel."

The prospect of seeing Remus again was too much for Sirius to resist, so he had accepted James' terms. He had promised, solemnly sworn even, something they do not take lightly, to confess his feelings for Remus.

Sirius got on a plane yesterday, flew all night, took a cab giving the driver Remus' address, and now here he is, standing on the doorstep of some student housing appartement getting ready to put it all out there for the person he can't deny anymore he's terribly in love with.

He takes a deep breath and knocks.

The door is thrown open and a lanky guy with bouncing red curls appears.

Sirius realizes this must be Fabian, Remus' roommate. Despite never having spoken with Fabian, or even having seen Fabian before, Sirius does not like Fabian. Remus talks about his new roommate just a tad too much for Sirius’ liking. 'I was having dinner with Fabian yesterday… Fabian took me to this coffeeshop the other day… Fabian and I are going to watch this movie…'

Fabian looks Sirius up and down, and then a flirtatious smile appears on his face as he leans against the doorpost. "Why, hi there. How may I help you this evening?"

"I… uhm, I'm looking for Remus?"

"Oh." Fabian visibly deflates and he straightens. "I'm sorry, Remus is unavailable today, I'm afraid."

"Unavailable?" Sirius repeats.

"Yes, he made it clear he is not to be disturbed from his utmost important task of feeling sorry for himself," Fabian says. "Apparently, his guy back home had his birthday yesterday, and when Remus didn't hear from him, he spent the day convincing himself that his crush has forgotten all about him and must have been out partying with other boys all night." Fabian rolls his eyes. "I've tried to get him out of his room, but he has opted to wallow in his misery about his unrequited crush instead."

"His…crush?" Sirius manages to say, his brain still trying to catch up.

Fabian squints his eyes and looks at him more closely. "Wait… 'tall and broad-shouldered', 'Hair the colour of the night sky falling in soft waves over his shoulders', 'bright eyes with an ever-present sparkle'..." He gasps and clasps his hand over his mouth. "Oh my god, it's you! You're Sirius Black!"

Sirius nods dumbly.

"Oh, no, no, no." Fabian hides his face in his hands and groans. Then he looks at Sirius again, pleadingly. "Please, please tell me you're here to confess your undying love for Remus, so that he isn't gonna murder me for spilling the beans?"

"Uhm, yes?"

Fabian's mood changes instantly, and a relieved grin spreads over his face. "Excellent!" He exclaims, and before Sirius can say another word he turns around and shouts "Remus! There's someone here to see you!"

Sirius hears a door open and close, some shuffling, and a moment later, Remus appears in the hallway. He's wearing pyjama pants that are too big and his most worn-out jumper with both old and new food stains, he has chocolate smears around his mouth and his hair is sticking up in all directions.

He looks perfect.

"Fab, I told you, I don't want to see anyone today. I'm-" His eyes fall upon Sirius and he immediately goes quiet, his mouth falling open.

Sirius has spent his whole flight thinking about what to say, rehearsing the words in his head, but now that Remus is looking at him, and he's looking at Remus, he's overcome with just how much he missed him. Words suddenly don't seem necessary. He rushes towards Remus, and Remus snaps out of his daze just in time to take a step towards him, before Sirius gathers him in his arms.

"What are you… How are you… Is this real?" Remus stammers, clinging to Sirius' shoulders.

"I missed you," Sirius whispers into Remus' hair. "I missed you so much. I just had to see you."

Remus lifts his head and searches Sirius' eyes, and what he finds there is really all he needs to know.

#my tumblr writing #wolfstar microfic #wolfstar college au #wolfstar #wolfstar fanfiction #wolfstar fic #marauders #marauders fanfiction #marauders fic #sirius black #remus lupin #remus x sirius #supportive james potter

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forever-rogue · 1 year

Text

Heart Out

AN | Once again, no one asked for this. Absolutely no one, but here we are - bone app the teeth. Basically - in which you meet Peter Parker, fall in love, accidentally fall pregnant, and have everything blow up in your face…or so it appears ❤️

Pairing | tasm!Peter Parker x Fem!Reader

Warnings | Language, Pregnant!Reader

Word Count | 6.3k

Masterlist | Main | Peter

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“Hello there,” you shrieked at the sound of the warm voice, clutching at your heart as you turned to find the source of your heart attack. Turned out that the man standing across the hall with a cheeky smile on his was about to give you another heart attack. Holy fuck - he was gorgeous. You opened and closed your mouth a few times, any coherent thought already out of your head, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I thought you heard me coming.”

“N-no,” you stammered out dumbly, unable to say anything else. Well then; he probably already thought you were a complete idiot, “I just, umm, didn’t h-hear you.”

“I’ll be louder next time,” he grinned, and his face took on a boyish quality. Funny; he could go from ridiculously handsome to outrageously cute in a matter of moments, “I just wanted to introduce myself - you just moved in right? I’m Peter. Parker. Peter Parker.”

“Peter,” you repeated softly and oh. He shouldn’t have you feeling this type of way already. You offered him your name, which he also repeated, testing it out to get a feel for it. You liked the way it sounded coming from him, “I moved in last week. It’s nice to meet you.”

“You too, sweetheart,” and there he was, already hitting you with the nicknames. The audacity, “if you ever need anything at all, feel free to let me know. You’re welcome any time, day or night.”

“T-thanks,” your mind absolutely did not have to go and immediately think about going over to his place late at night when you needed something and then - no. Nope. You were definitely not going to let your thoughts go there, “that’s very kind of you.”

“You’re new to the building - it’s nice to know at least one person,” he shrugged lightly, “and maybe make a new friend. But I mean it, my door’s open - metaphorically - anytime.”

“Well, thank you again, Peter,” you opened your door and turned around to cast one last little wave goodbye, “see you around - have a good night.”

“You too, honey.”

Peter stood and watched you close your door, not moving until he heard you lock it. A soft little smile settled on his face as he went back into his own apartment. He didn’t mean to be so invasive, but curiosity - and his spidey senses - got the better of him and he listened to you shuffle around your apartment, muttering softly under your breath. Damn; he liked you already.

He’d known you when you moved but had been tempted to come over and help, but he also didn’t want to scare you off either. But he had also just offered himself up to you practically 24/7….maybe it was too late. Either way, he hoped he’d get to see you again.

Meanwhile in your apartment, you were trying not to have a breakdown. How did you manage to fuck up a simple conversation? He probably thought you were an idiot; he probably didn’t even want you to come over. Peter seemed like he was the type of guy that was nice to everyone. Maybe you could just avoid him forever and pretend this never happened.

“Peter Parker,” you whispered to yourself, flopping on the couch and pulling out your phone. A little online…research wouldn’t hurt anyone, right? You cast a furtive look around, as though he was suddenly going to appear in your doorway, “let’s see what you’re about.”

Several background episodes of some old TV show, a helping of chocolate, and over an hour of online snooping, you’d found out a lot about Peter Parker. He was some sort of genius scientist by day, an amateur photographer on the side, and apparently a huge geek. Ugh. As if you needed more reasons to like him. How could he be hot, smart, and nerdy? Unfair.

You closed out every app and tossed your phone to the side before sighing heavily. This might prove to be harder than you’d thought. Peter Parker was going to be a menace…you could just feel it.

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As fate would have it, your plan to avoid Peter Parker did not go well. It did not go well at all.

From the first time you met him, you seemed to run into him all the time; leaving for or coming from work, in the laundry, even out in public. At first you had tried to play it off and keep interactions brief, but the more you kept seeing him the more you wondered if it was all a sense of timing…or was it fate?

Either way, you stopped questioning; you allowed yourself to become friends with Peter. Friends that just so happened to be flirty with each other. Which was totally normal…who didn’t flirt with their friends every once in a while. Right? Right. What happened between the two of you would happen and you decided to let things flow naturally.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

That all came to a head one chilly winter night.

It was later in the evening and you were winding down for the day when your heating went out. And as luck would have it, it was just cold enough that you needed the heater. You had no clue how to fix it and it would be too late to call the maintenance line and your mind only went out to one thing, or one person rather, Peter.

You pulled on a hoodie and toed on your slippers before padding across the hall. There was a moment of hesitation as you raised your hand but couldn’t quite bring yourself to knock. Before you could make a decision one way or the other, the door opened and Peter stood on the other side, “hi.”

“H-hey,” you hadn’t even made a sound and yet he still knew you were at the door…weird. But that was the least of your concerns at the moment. You were desperately trying not to stare at him too closely; he was wearing a pair of sinful gray sweatpants and a well fitted t-shirt. The urge to throw yourself at him was ridiculous.

“Everything alright, sweetheart?”

Right. You were here for something entirely different. You mentally slapped yourself before nodding, “I’m sorry for coming so late, and I don’t even know if you’d be able to help but my heating went out and I have no clue what to do. Umm...you know what, it’s okay. I-I’ll figure it out.”

You’d turned to leave, regretting your decision to bother him, but before you could run away, you felt his long, slender fingers wrap around your wrist. You turned to him with wide eyes and he shook his head lightly, “you’re in luck. I happen to be very handy with things like this.”

“Is that because of all the science-y things you do?” you blurted it out before thinking about it as he raised his eyebrows. Right. You weren’t supposed to know about what he did for a living…it had never really come up. You also weren’t supposed to give the fact that you’d stalked him on the internet, “j-just because you seem like a STEM guy. ‘s all.”

Smooth.

“I do happen to be a STEM guy,” he grinned, “let me come over and take a look. I’m sure it’ll be an easy fix - the heating here is just a little finicky.”

“Thank you,” you slinked back to your apartment, handsome man in tow. You were glad that you’d just cleaned up and everything was tidy. Peter looked so good in your apartment and it made the whole domestic daydream hard to ignore, “I’m assuming the heaters are in the same spot. So…yeah. Can I help with anything - get you anything?”

“I’ve got it,” he promised, already walking into the living room where your heater was, “it shouldn’t take too long.”

You made a small sound of acknowledgement as you retreated into the kitchen, deciding to finish up the dishes you had started…while stealing glances at him. It was hard to ignore such an attractive piece of art in your own home. At one point he stretched and his shirt rode up, revealing the patch of hair under his belly button that disappeared under the waistband of his sweats. A wistful little sigh escaped your lips, which you quickly covered up with a cough. You swore you could see a little smirk on his face.

To your delight and chagrin, Peter really was handy and had the heating kicked on and working well in a short period of time. He turned back to you with a triumphant smile and jazz hands, “ta-da! All working again…and probably better than before. Simple circuit issue.”

“I…wow, thank you so much,” you smiled softly, “that’s really kind of you. How can I repay you? Whatever you want, name it and it’s yours.”

Peter’s smile grew bigger and he seriously wanted to answer with a simple you. But instead he shook his head and brushed off your concern, “don’t mention - really, it was nothing. Plus, it gives me a chance to see you again. It’s been a bit...almost like you were avoiding me. Did I do something to scare you off?”

He’d come over now and was standing across from you, arms crossed over his chest as he leaned against the wall. Peter could read you like a book already and it was just all too easy for him. You bit the inside of your cheek and just shook your head, “n-no, Peter. Of course not, I’ve just been…busy. And didn’t feel the need to bother you.”

“You didn’t feel the need or didn’t want to?” he asked softly, his voice so warm and low that felt like he should be whispering those words directly in your ear. You swallowed thickly, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks, “tell me, sweetheart.”

“Didn’t want to,” you confessed shyly, “didn’t want you to get tired or annoyed with me.”

“I don’t think I could ever get tired of you,” how you’d come to be right in front of him was a mystery but you found yourself looking up into his pretty brown eyes. He reached up and touched your face, brushing his knuckles across your cheek before trailing his fingers along your jaw and down your neck, “sweet, sweet girl.”

“Peter,” he was still new to you, still so much to discover and learn but you already felt like you’d known him for a lifetime. It was such a strange feeling, such a magnetic pull and you didn’t even want to bother fighting it.

“Hmm?” his face was close to yours, and you could feel the warmth radiating off him. He smelled so deliciously warm and soft that you wanted to wrap yourself in his clothes and wanted him all over you, “tell me what you need, honey.”

“Kiss me?” you asked sweetly, “please?”

He answered your simple request by pressing his lips to yours in what started off as a saccharine, soft little thing. With even the slightest taste of him, you were already addicted to him. A little gasp escaped your lips as you looked back at him and found him watching with equal curiosity and tenderness.

And then it happened so fast - he was all over you and you jumped into his arms, letting him kiss you dizzy and leave a lavender haze across your skin. His touch was electric and you couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt so alive. He picked you and carried you to your bedroom so effortlessly, and you felt so soft and delicate in his arms. Your lips barely broke contact as he gently laid you on the bed, looking down at you like you were the most precious thing in the world.

He gently brushed your hair out of your face, resting his hand on your cheek and leaned into his touch, “we don’t have to-”

“I want this,” you promised softly, “I want you, Peter.”

That was all he needed before caging you in between his arms, leaning down to kiss you more. You could easily - and did - spend hours under him, letting him kiss you and touch every which way It felt like a dream, a sweet fantasy that your lust addled brain had conjured up, but the soft moan and whimpers you were drawing from him reminded you that this was all very real.

“Peter,” his name had never sounded as sweet as it did when it fell reverently from your lips, “please.”

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” he promised, nosing along your jaw before placing a kiss to your lips, “I’ve got you.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You’d believed him. You’d believed every sweet word whispered in your ear, every little moan and whimper exchanged that he’d meant them all.

But when you woke up the next morning, golden sunshine and soft bird chirps streaming into your bedroom, you rolled over and fully expected to find his warm body next to yours. But instead you found a chilly emptiness. Strange. You hadn’t even heard him get up, let alone leave you. A pang settled in your stomach as you slid out of bed, feeling the dull ache between your legs as you slid on your shirt from last night.

“Peter?” you padded your way into the hall and kitchen looking for any signs of life; unfortunately you found nothing. A pout worked its way onto your face as you looked around, and in a much smaller voice you spoke into the nothingness, “Peter?”

But he was long gone and you already knew that. There was no note, no anything. You scrubbed a hand over your tired face before sighing to yourself. You should have known - of course it was too good to be true. Peter Parker wasn’t into you and he hadn’t felt any sort of connection. He’d just wanted to have sex…and you’d given right in.

“Dumb, pathetic girl,” you chided yourself before moving to the bathroom to take a long, hot shower. You wanted to scrub off every last bit of Peter from your body and home. You decided to let yourself cry and wallow in self-pity while showering; after that it was back to business as usual. Maybe you’d get an answer from Peter later. Maybe you’d find out that this was all some sort of weird misunderstanding. You still had hope that Peter would turn out to be everything you had dreamed he would be.

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But…you never got the chance to ask what happened or for him to give you a proper explanation. By mid-afternoon of the day he’d just left, you went over to his apartment and knocked on his door; there was no answer. You figured that he might not have been home, which was fair enough. You decided to just wait for him - he had to come home at some point.

It just wasn’t that day. You didn’t hear him come or go, which just left you more curious than ever.

The day after brought about a new work week, and you knew, from your previous comings and goings that he worked a similar schedule to yours. And yet you still didn’t see him that week. Now you were just getting worried about him. In the few months you’d lived in the building, you’d seen him constantly; it wasn’t like him to just up and disappear. If nothing you figured he might have told you that he was leaving or going to be gone.

It wasn’t until about three weeks later that you’d caught sight of him again. You experienced an odd combination of relief and annoyance when you caught him getting back into his apartment as you came home from dinner with some friends.

“Peter?” your soft voice caught him off guard and he tensed up immediately. He was so lost in his own thoughts that even his heightened senses didn’t detect you. He exhaled shakily as he turned around to face you. You looked so torn at seeing him again, “you’re here. You’re okay…”

“Yeah,” he nodded and cleared his throat. He seemed so different from the man you’d seen last time. He looked more tired too, his hair shaggier and stubble littered his face, “listen-”

“Where did you go?” he could hear the hurt in your voice and it broke his heart, “t-that morning…you were just gone. And then you were gone for weeks. I got so worried…”

He knew this was coming; that’s why he’d spent the last couple of weeks actively avoiding you. Peter hadn’t been gone - he’d just relied on Spider-Man prowess to be able to get into his apartment unseen. He’d spent more nights than he cared to admit sitting near his door and tuning in to you. He just…couldn’t bring himself to face you.

“I’m fine,” but he most definitely wasn’t, “I’m sorry about that night, okay? It shouldn’t have happened, but I’m fine. You’re fine. We can put it behind us and move on…”

“I…what do you mean?” your heart broke at his words and you wished the ground would open up and swallow you, “Peter - can we just talk about this?”

“I’m busy, I’m sorry,” he opened his door and stepped inside his apartment as you stared at him with teary eyes, “I’m sorry.”

He closed the door and locked it before you could say anything else. You stared at the door, processing what had just happened while tears pearled up and ran down your cheeks. How could he just play you off like that? Basically acting like nothing happened. This didn’t feel like Peter - not the Peter you’d come to know and, if you were being honest with yourself, love.

Peter leaned against the door sighing deeply to himself as he listened to your sniffles as you walked into your own apartment. He never wanted to hear you cry again, he especially never wanted to be the cause of your tears again.

“Fuck,” he sighed to himself, “fuck.”

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You thought that things couldn’t get worse after Peter all but dumped you, as a friend and potential lover, but once again you had been wrong.

Very wrong.

I’ve missed two periods wrong. You thought maybe the test was wrong, that the white plastic stick proclaiming pregnant was giving you a false positive. But the six other tests that said the same thing probably weren’t all wrong.

“Fuck,” you tossed the test angrily into your trash can before doing the same thing with the rest of the tests. You couldn’t stand looking at them any longer, have them taunting you mercilessly, “fuck me.”

While it was real, it didn’t feel real real until you left the doctor’s office the following week. They had simply confirmed what you already knew deep down. You were eight weeks pregnant with Peter Parker’s baby. Talk about life throwing you for a loop. But, like without most things in life, except for what happened with Peter, you decided to be rational and figure it all out.

You needed a plan - as long as you had a plan things would work out.

You were at a good place in life and with your career that financially you’d be able to afford a baby. You had a spare room in your apartment that served as a makeshift office that could be a nursery. You had a few close friends and family members that would be able to support you throughout your pregnancy. Realistically, the biggest decision you had to make was whether or not you wanted to keep the baby.

Would you be able to stand living across the hall from Peter while you had his kid? Would he even ask questions and put two and two together? Maybe you could look for a different apartment soon. There was much to think about and much to do, but as long as you made a plan and stuck to it, things would work out.

They had to work out…fuck, you hoped things worked out.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Three months later found you doing better than you’d thought. You’d decided to keep the baby but were still on the fence about moving. The more time that passed, the more you thought moving was the right idea.

You’d tried to tell Peter as soon as you got confirmation of your pregnancy from the doctor. He might have hated you, but he still deserved to know. You wanted him to have the opportunity to choose whether or not he wanted to be in the kid’s life. Even if you didn’t get along, he deserved the choice. Part of you still wondered what had caused the sudden shift in his attitude towards you, but never found out. He avoided you like the plague and if he did see you for some reason he would give you a small hello or pretend that he didn’t see you.

After all this time it still stung. And it was the only reason that he still didn’t know you were pregnant. The thing was, you wouldn’t be able to hide it much longer - but who knew if he would even notice. It almost felt like a weird, cruel joke at this point.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

It was a random Wednesday afternoon that you happened to have off, which led you to take advantage of the nearly empty laundry room. You were just finishing up your last load, putting it all in your basket when you heard someone walk in. The mountain of laundry was large and you didn’t bother looking to see who it was, “I’ll be out in just a second - sorry for hogging all the room!”

When you finally fished the last things out of the dryer, you turned around and found yourself face to face with none other than, “Peter.”

He looked like he’d just seen a ghost as he stared at you, soft honey brown eyes searching yours. Your heart raced, and you were surprised it didn’t burst through your ribcage. A slight look of confusion crossed his features and you caught the way his eyes looked over you before flicking down to your belly. You swallowed thickly, suddenly glad that you’d worn a pretty baggy old t-shirt; it hid the fact that you were definitely starting to show.

“Hey,” he choked out, raising his hand in a weak little wave. It was more than you’d gotten from him in some time, “h-how’re you?”

“I’m okay,” it wasn’t a total lie but it wasn’t the full truth either, “how are you?”

“Okay,” he admitted, and you wondered if it was a lie. He held up his hand and flailed it around, as if he was trying to magically conjure up the words he was looking for, “d-do you…I, umm…can we talk?”

“Not right now,” you felt your eyes welling up with tears as you grabbed your basket and held it as best as you could in order to avoid resting it against your belly. How could he just so casually want to talk months later? He had all this time and now he was going to ask, “I’ve gotta go. I-I’ll see you around, Peter.”

You pushed past him, arm brushing against his and sending electric shivers shooting down your spine as he watched you go. He stared at you, finding himself unable to move or say anything else. He brought his hands to his face and groaned loudly; once again he’d managed to mess this up. But something had been…different about you today. Peter couldn’t quite place it yet, but there was something going on. And he was determined to find out - and beg for forgiveness if he had to.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

One of the many things that had come along with pregnancy were the lovely bouts of insomnia that popped every once in a while. Nothing you did - or didn’t - do seemed to help and it left you more restless than anything else. Some evenings you would bake, some nights you read, some nights you’d watch TV. But on this particular evening, you found yourself pacing around endlessly; instead of just walking around your apartment, you decided to go for a walk around the neighborhood. It seemed like a big of a crazy idea but the neighborhood and most of New York City was fairly safe and quiet these days, probably thanks to the friendly neighborhood Spider-Man.

You pulled on a pair of sweats and a thin zip up and headed outside, one earbud in with your true crime podcast of the moment in your ear. And for a while, nothing seemed out of place, and your suspicions weren’t raised.

Not until a red and blue blur passed in your peripheral and caused you to stop in your tracks. Out of nowhere Spider-Man appeared right in front of you, causing your eyes to widen. You pulled the earbud out and stuffed it into your pocket as you studied the man in front of you, “Spider-Man?”

“Last time I checked,” he responded cheekily, holding his arms out and pretending to study them with interest, “what are you doing out so late? It’s dangerous!”

“Umm,” the fact that he was talking to you like he knew you personally threw you off, “I was just going for a quick walk? I-is that not allowed anymore?”

“This late?!”

“I couldn’t sleep,” you shrugged lightly, unsure of why this seemed so important to him. Your hand had instinctively gone to your bump, and you stroked it gently, “and my back was hurting so I thought a walk would help?”

He tracked your movement and you were almost sure you heard him inhale sharply, “y-you’re pregnant?”

“Yeah,” you whispered with a small, fond smile, “this kid is very active and likes to be up at all times of the day and night. Makes it hard to keep a normal sleep schedule at times…I mean none of this is normal…but, you know what, I’m gonna shut up now because you definitely don’t need to hear about all of this.”

“What a-are you having?” his voice grew soft and you found yourself drawn into him. He was Spider-Man after all, he saved kids all the time, it shouldn’t have been a surprise that he cared.

“A girl…in about four months,” you told him excitedly, eyes lighting up with happiness, the white eyes of the suit narrowed as he studied you, a gentle silence falling over the two of you. You cleared your throat when he didn’t say anything, “I, ugh, I should get going. Maybe I will try and see if she’ll let me get some rest. She’s calmed down a little bit…since you showed. You must hold some kind of magic over her, she probably likes your voice.”

He stood there frozen, so you offered him a small wave before walking past him in order to loop around the block back to your building. It was quiet at first and you thought you were alone when you heard rapid footsteps coming after you, “wait! Please - wait.”

“Huh?” Spider-Man was there again and this time he took your hand and pulled you into a small walkway between buildings. He was breathing nervously, “are you okay? Do you need…something?”

He paused for a moment before raising a shaking hand to the back of his neck. You watched as he pulled the mask off slowly, revealing himself to you which caused you to gasp loudly as you stared at the man in front of you, “Peter?”

“H-hi,” he said meekly as you a hundred different emotions seemed to flash across your face, “I fucked up.”

“What is going on?” there were those overwhelming emotions again, bringing up those big, fat crocodile tears that rolled down your cheeks, “you’re Spider-Man? I…all this time? Why…I don’t understand.”

“She’s mine, isn’t she?” he asked, although both of you were well aware of the answer, “the other day, in the laundry room, I-I heard it - the two heartbeats but only saw you. It makes sense now…”

“Y-you left me,” was all you managed to get out before you were sniffling heavily and wiping at your eyes with the sleeve of your sweater, “I-I tried to tell you. Y-you just left and never told me why.”

“Sweetheart-”

“You broke my heart Peter,” you flinched out of his touch when he tried to reach for your hand; he hated the fact that he made you feel like that, “and you never even told me why.”

“Please, let me explain, I can-”

“No,” you shook your head fervently, as you took a step back, “no. I tried to talk to you so many times, and you just ignored me. I tried to tell you that I was pregnant but you just…shut me out. It’s too late for that, Peter.”

“Don’t walk away,” he begged, his own eyes glistening with tears, “please.”

“Give me one good reason why,” you pushed back.

“I’m in love with you.”

“Don’t,” you held up your hand, shaking your head. Funny - you’d been wanting to hear those words for so long and now you heard them they felt wrong. The worst part of it all was that you needed him to be serious, “you don’t get to leave me for months and avoid me and just do this. That’s not fair, Peter.”

“I never meant to,” he insisted, groaning at himself, “I-I can explain, please-”

“No, Peter,” you took a step back, your own heart breaking all over again, “I’m not going to keep your daughter from you - if you want to be a part of her life. That wouldn’t be fair of me and I want her to have the opportunity to know her father and you to know your daughter. But us…we…I don’t know, Peter. I think it’s too late for that.”

“I understand why you hate me,” he insisted, trying his best to get to you to stay, “give me ten minutes, that’s all I’m asking for, to explain everything.”

You worried your bottom between your teeth, wanting to walk away but finding it impossible. After a few beats of tense silence you have him a singular nod, “ten minutes. That’s it.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

The fact that you found yourself in Peter’s apartment again, after all these months, was oddly comforting. Everything felt and looked the same, which for some reason provided a weird sense of familiarity. You sat on the couch, grabbed the blanket off the back without thinking about it and curled up under it; the fact that you still did put a small smile on Peter's face.

“Go on then,” you raised an eyebrow, “talk.”

“I don’t even know where to start,” he sighed lightly, “it’ll be a mess but I want to get it all out there. I-I’m Spider-Man…obviously. I have been for a long time, and it’s not something people know for obvious reasons. There’s less than a handful of people that know who I am.”

“Oh,” you met his eyes and frowned slightly. Of course your first thoughts were worry about him getting hurt. But then it suddenly clicked, “all those times you got hurt…the bruises and scratches and - wow. It makes sense now.”

“Listen, sweetheart,” he rubbed a hand over his tired face, “the woman I thought I’d spend the rest of my life with…she knew. She found out, and she…she’s dead. She’s been for a long time now. I couldn’t save her - the reason she died was because of me. I got mad, angry…bitter and rageful. For so long, I was just so sad and angry all the time. It took years before I finally got it into my head that she - Gwen - wouldn’t want me to be like that. She would want me to be happy and move on with my life. So I did; I’ll never forget her or stop loving her.”

“Peter,” your eyes were welling up with tears as you watched him pace around the living room. You could tell that this was not easy for him, his own eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“I also made myself a promise that I would never get someone involved again. No one was going to know that I was Spider-Man,” he gave you a soft, sad smile, “if no one got close to me, they couldn’t get hurt, right? That was my logic - the less people knew about me, the fewer people I knew, the better. The last thing…the last thing I expected to do was to fall in love.”

The two of you looked at each other, both of you on the verge of having tears spill your cheeks. You opened and closed your mouth a few times as he crouched down in front of you. He reached up and gently touched your cheek, wiping away the tears you hadn’t even realized fell. You leaned into his touch as you looked at him with the softest eyes, “I never expected to feel anything close to that. But then I met you. And I just knew you were going to be trouble from the first day I met you.”

“Good trouble?” you asked softly and he nodded.

“The best trouble,” he agreed, “and you made it so easy, and I stopped worrying about the consequences. It didn’t matter anymore…and then that night, when we had sex, I just…I realized that I did - do - love you. And I panicked, I panicked and ran away like a coward.”

“You did,” you agreed softly, “you didn’t even leave a note. I thought…I thought you regretted it and that you thought it was a mistake.”

“I can understand why you thought that,” he traced his fingers along your jaw, studying your features and refamiliarizing himself with them, “I didn’t think that at all. I just…all I could think about was you getting hurt. That someone would find out about you and they’d hurt you. And, in my very flawed logic, I thought that pushing you away was the best thing. If you hated me, you wouldn’t want to be around me, and then you’d be safe. That’s what I thought anyway.”

“I could never hate you,” you promised, wrapping your fingers around his wrist and gently taking his hand into yours, “never. Peter, you’re an idiot and a fool, but I can’t even be mad because your heart was in the right place. You didn’t go about it correctly but I get it.”

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, giving your hand a gentle squeeze, “that’s all I can say and hope that you can forgive me. I’m sorry that I’ve been such a dick that you’ve had to go through this on your own.”

“I know,” you swallowed thickly, “I tried to tell you, but…yeah. Listen, I’m going to keep her and I don’t want you to feel forced into being a part of her life. But if you want to be, I would never say no. Obviously, you know, I didn’t intend on having sex once and forgetting to use birth control and getting pregnant. It’s a mess really…but I couldn’t give her up.”

“I know I’ve been a dick and you don’t have to say yes, but I’d like to be involved,” his eyes grew nervous, “you’ve still got a while of being pregnant and I’d like to help however I can. It takes two to tango after all.”

“I’d like that,” you agreed and he felt his heart flutter happily, “Peter…I’m not saying things will just go back to how they were right away, but…I love you.”

“You…what?!”

“I love you,” you repeated with a small laugh and oh. He’d missed that beautiful sound so terribly much, “I have for a long time too. And if you…if you want to, I-I’m willing to work on things and try again?”

“Really?”

“Really,” you grinned, “you know that old saying, don’t give up on something that could be great just because it’s not easy or whatever? I think that applies here. So, if you’re in, I’m in. But, Peter, my love, please just talk to me, okay? Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out, but we can’t do that if you shut me out.”

“I won’t,” he promised, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, “I swear it. I want this - you.”

“Good,” you leaned in and pressed a delicate kiss to his cheek, “I want you too, Spidey. We’ll figure it out.”

“We will,” he agreed softly, “do you…have any pictures of her o-or anything?”

“Of course,” you took his hand and placed it gently on the swell of your belly. You watched as his entire body relaxed and his face softened, “I’ve got plenty of sonogram pictures of the blob. I’ve got a doctor’s appointment in a few days, would you like to come with me?”

“Yeah,” he leaned in, hesitantly for a moment, and you repeated the action, pressing your forehead against his, “I’d love to.”

“Peter? Can I ask you something?”

“Anything.”

“Will you kiss me?” he laughed lightly as you beamed at him, “pretty please?”

“Yes,” he promised, “any time, sweetheart.”

#peter parker #peter parker x you #peter parker x reader #peter parker x fem!reader #tasm!peter #tasm!peter x reader #tasm!peter x you #tasm!peter parker x you #tasm!peter parker #tasm!peter parker x reader #andrew!peter #andrew!peter x you #andrew!peter x reader #andrew garfield #andrew garfield x you #andrew garfield x reader

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loveinhawkins · 1 year

Text

Part 1 Part 2

The rain comes on heavier as Eddie starts up Steve’s car, drives away. Dustin shuts the van door and glances over his shoulder to see Steve stretching out along the couple of seats in the back that Eddie usually reserves for his guitars. It doesn’t even look like Steve wants to be lying down, more that his body is just demanding to be horizontal.

Dustin sits down right on the floor, his head by Steve’s feet. Steve shuffles with a grunt, making room for him on the seats, but Dustin doesn’t take up the offer.

“Your ass is gonna go numb,” Steve says tiredly.

“No it won’t.”

Steve gives an exhausted kind of snort. “Uh, yeah it will,” he says—in that affected drawl he loves to use whenever he decides to contradict Dustin for the stupidest of reasons.

Dustin rolls his eyes. He’s about to tell Steve to shut up, but then he hears Steve sucking in deliberate breaths, holding them with clenched teeth. It kind of reminds him of when someone tries to cure their own hiccups, but he at least knows that’s not the case here.

“G,” Dustin declares.

Steve sighs. “Oh, fuck you. Um…”

His breathing evens out a bit as he thinks. It’s a recurring game they’ve got: shouting out a random letter and seeing if the other person can name a movie in ten seconds or less. Lately, Steve’s taken to smugly saying a letter just as Dustin takes a large bite of food, which Dustin calls “cheating” and Steve calls “strategy.��

“Ghostbusters,” Steve says with a little smirk.

“Acceptable,” Dustin concedes.

“Hey, remember your Halloween costume?” Steve says, sitting up a little on his elbows; his smile turns more fond than teasing. “Your mom kept showing me the pictures for months.” He looks off into the distance for a moment, like he’s seeing them all over again. He blinks, then says, “You were tiny, Henderson.”

It’s not said condescendingly, not in the syrupy kind of way that some distant family friends would mean it. More like he’s just bewildered by the passing of time.

So Dustin doesn’t grumble at the remark. Instead he says, “Mom’s out of town tonight.”

“Christmas shopping?” Steve asks.

“Nope.” Dustin tilts his head, raising his eyebrows. “Cousin Marlene.”

When Steve just looks blankly at him, Dustin huffs. “Come on, seriously? Didn’t I tell you?”

“Last thing you told me was her perm went wrong.”

“Oh,” Dustin says, mollified. “Okay, you’re missing an update. Henry’s cheating on her.”

“God, she can’t catch a break. Who’s the—”

But Dustin’s already doing a drum roll on his knees. “Julie.”

Steve sits up a little more, gapes. “No. Is that the one who—?”

“The leader of the PTA!”

Steve clicks his fingers. “See, I told you, I told you, she was bad news.”

“Yeah, it’s a mess.”

Steve lies back down, one hand behind his head. “Tell me?” His eyes shut for a moment, and when they open, his lids look heavy.

Dustin gets up to the third phone call Cousin Marlene had made when Steve’s eyes don’t open again. It seems completely involuntary, the frown he still wears in his sleep betraying his discomfort. It makes Dustin think of whenever he was sent home sick from school, dragged down into a restless sleep that just made his head pound afterwards.

There’s the sound of a car pulling up. Dustin moves to sit in the passenger seat, looks through the window and sees Eddie jumping out of a Chevy. He gives a very polite wave that in another circumstance, Dustin would find hilarious. The car drives off again.

When Eddie sees Steve sleeping in the back, he lets out a soft, “Oh,” and shuts the door as quietly as he can. He hesitates in starting up the engine, whispers, “I don’t wanna wake him.” When he does turn onto the road, Dustin feels like it’s the smoothest he’s ever seen him drive.

“Didn’t spook your ride too bad?” Dustin asks in an undertone.

A corner of Eddie’s mouth quirks up. “Yeah, hopefully not. Nice lady. Apparently Steve feeds her cat when she’s on vacation.” He glances at the rearview mirror. His voice lowers even more when he says, “How was he?”

Dustin pauses. He looks back at Steve—still asleep, occasionally half-mouthing words he can’t hope to decipher.

“I… I don’t know what was…” Dustin sighs, feels useless again. “Eddie, he was crying.”

Eddie clicks his tongue unhappily. He pulls up to Steve’s driveway, stops a little distance away from where Steve’s car is already parked.

Eddie cuts the engine. Steve doesn’t stir. The rain, if possible, gets even heavier.

Eddie looks out at the house, deep in thought. “Spare key still under the mat?”

Dustin shrugs. “Should be.”

Another pause. Eddie nods. “Okay, I’m gonna—get a change of clothes for him, and then we can, uh, figure out what to—”

But when he opens the door, Steve sits up with a gasp.

Eddie twists in his seat. “Woah, hey, you’re—”

“Thanks for the ride,” Steve bites out, and he shoves past them both without another word, steps out into the rain.

“Hey, wait a second,” Eddie says, and Dustin can tell that he’s trying to sound calm and just missing the mark; the words come out too quickly, too frantic.

But the panic tugs at Dustin, too; he watches as Steve heads into the house, and can’t help but feel that he’s watching something slip away.

It frightens him.

He darts around Eddie, the soles of his sneakers smacking on the wet driveway. He runs, can hear Eddie calling after him.

“Dustin, wait!”

But he ignores him, flying through the front door, then suddenly feels Eddie’s arm cutting across, blocking his path forward.

He’s about to complain, to push him away.

But then he sees the glass on the floor.

The hallway is a mess: there’s a clear vase broken into pieces; on a long, wooden table, the phone lies off the hook—even more than that, the handset is cracked in several places. Dustin can see dents in the table from where the phone must’ve been smashed against it; he can picture it, suddenly, even though he’s never seen such a thing, never known Steve to lose control like that. Can see him bringing the phone down again and again…

A crunch of glass underfoot as Eddie moves in front of him. Eddie carefully kicks a few shards to the side. He looks behind him, catches Dustin’s eye and says, “Careful.”

They cautiously move through the hallway into the kitchen. Dustin lets Eddie take the lead—finds himself caught short in the doorway at the sight of Steve standing in the kitchen, both hands braced against the counter, head bowed.

Eddie stops a couple of steps away from him. “Steve. Hey. What happened?”

“Nothing,” Steve says. He raises his head and turns to Eddie, one hand still gripping the counter, almost like he needs something to keep himself standing. “Phone lines are down here, think a tree fell or something. It’s really nothing.”

“Steve,” Eddie says simply, in a tone that clearly means it’s not nothing.

But Steve looks over at Dustin, addresses him. “It’s fine. I’m—you can go, seriously. Just… I’m fine.”

Dustin doesn’t know what to say.

Eddie takes another step forward. “Steve,” he repeats.

“Please,” Steve says. His voice is breaking. “Please just leave it alone.”

Silence.

“I can’t do that,” Eddie says, like it’s destroying him to say it.

Steve moves forward now, and he shoves Eddie back with both hands—and Dustin has seen Steve in a fight, has seen him be mean, and this is none of those things. It’s something desperate and afraid.

“Why not?” Steve breathes. He pushes again, but it hardly even jostles Eddie, Steve’s strength wavering. “Why not?”

“Because,” Eddie whispers, and he pulls Steve’s hands off his jacket and just holds onto them. “I care about you.”

Steve’s face crumples. For a split second, Dustin worries that he’ll pull away, but then he falls against Eddie, and Eddie holds him up as he quietly starts to cry.

“This is so,” Steve chokes, breathes raggedly, “so fucking stupid.”

He keeps repeating it, so fucking stupid, over and over.

“No,” Eddie says. He sways just a little, one hand stroking through Steve’s hair, right down to the back of his neck. “Shh. You’re okay, oh, you’re okay.”

Dustin steps further into the room. He wants to somehow find something that can make this all better—knows there’s more to be fixed than a broken phone. “You’ve gotta get out of this house,” Eddie murmurs, lips almost touching Steve’s temple. “Okay? How about…”

But he trails off, and Dustin knows that he was about to suggest that Steve stay at his—can already tell, from the way that Steve tenses near imperceptibly, that the suggestion would create a stalemate.

Dustin can read it in Steve’s hunched shoulders that if Eddie offers his place, to Steve it’ll feel like he’s imposing or some bullshit like that; he’ll dig his heels in, facing another night alone and…

Eddie bites down hard on his lip again; Dustin can practically hear his panicked train of thought.

And now he knows what to do.

“Stay at mine,” he says, and both Steve and Eddie look over at him. “Mom says I need “adult supervision” if I’m home alone, but you’ll do, I guess.”

It’s technically the truth, apart from the fact that Dustin had planned to have a sleepover with Lucas tonight, but well. Details.

Eddie’s eyes are shining with gratitude.

“A thankless job, huh?” he says, gently nudging Steve. “But I guess someone’s gotta do it.”

Steve exhales. His eyes meet Dustin’s before darting away, and Dustin hates that he looks ashamed.

“Okay,” Steve says.

#just 3 parts i said. & like steve i was lying to myself #steve and dustin #dustin henderson fic #steddie with dustin’s pov #steve harrington #dustin henderson #eddie and dustin #steddie #steddie fic #steddie ficlet #eddie munson #steve x eddie #henderfam

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cybrpwup · 1 year

Text

ɴᴏᴛ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ꜱᴄʀᴇᴡ || ɪꜱᴀᴀᴄᴡʜʏ x ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

Isaacwhy x fem!reader

content warnings; smut, swearing, unprotected sex, fingering, edging, use of nicknames, overstimulation, slight choking summary; Isaac is determined to get in bed with y/n Requested?; Yes ↳ could you do prompt 15 with Isaac maybe?

It was no secret Isaac had no problem telling people how he felt-- especially if it was to tell a girl how he felt. It was no different when the new girl, Y/n, showed up at his college dorm room- because she was locked out of hers.

She knocked on the boys door and after a couple knocks, a groan could be heard from the other side, followed by a groggy voice, "I don't start until 7"

She checked her phone: the time read 6:45, "please, I need help."

The door swung open to reveal a shirtless Isaac, clearly just have gotten out of bed, "Isaac?" She questioned, clearly embarrassed and hoping she'd gotten the right room.

Once it was confirmed he was the right guy she was looking for, she continued, "Locked myself out of my dorm... help me?"

What he didn’t expect to see was an unknown girl, the annoyed look dropped from Isaac's face as he leaned against the frame, examining the girl that stood in front of him. And once he saw her-- he knew he wanted her.

He looked the girl up and down, moistening his lips, “yeah, let me grab a shirt.”

It didn’t take long for him to return, covered up this time, “let’s go.”

—

“Thank you… again. Really I’m sorry for getting you up this early..” Y/n apologized, standing in her doorway and looking up at the taller male standing just outside it.

With a nod, he turned to leave before stopping in his tracks, “hey,” he turned to face the girl again, “if you need anything,” he stared her down, “you can come by anytime.”

“Are you trying to flirt with me?” She cocked an eyebrow, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Yeah. Is it working?” He was bold with the way her spoke, towering over her slightly as to assert dominance.

“No. Thanks and goodbye.” She slammed the door in his face, a muffled chuckle coming from the other side of the door

—

“Do you ever give up?” Y/n sighed at the brunette who had showed up at her dorm room, uninvited. She’d thought he’d given up after not seeing him for a few weeks-- admittedly she felt a bit sad when he hadn’t showed up to bother her.

With a shake of his head he responded with a simple “nope” and let himself in, laying down on her bed with his hands behind his head.

“comfortable?” She scoffed with a new found annoyance as he propped himself up on his elbows.

Y/n cocked an eyebrow at the male who seemed to make himself right at home, “Why are you here, Issac?” her arms crossed over her chest “You know why.”

The way the words slipped from his lips like sweet honey, she couldn’t help the shudder that climbed up her spine, and a wave of arousal washed over her.

However, she was quick to regain her annoyed frenzy and her back turned to him as she organized papers at her desk, “We arent sleeping together.”

He shrugged, “Alright” He breathed out as he sat up, knowing he wasn’t getting what he wanted- not yet.

“You’re an insufferable asshole.” She started, turning on her heel to face Isaac who was now standing up, “Too arrogant for your own good. Stop showing up at my dorm randomly”

“What about an ultimatum?” He asked, now standing in front of her and leaning in close to whisper in her ear, “you let me fuck you and I leave you alone?”

She felt her voice get caught in her throat for the second time that night.

God, why did he make her feel like that? Was she attracted to him? Maybe she was just sexually frustrated-- too uncomfortable to do anything to absolve herself from the ache between her thighs. She shoved his shoulder, letting out a scoff as he stumbled back, chuckling at her reaction.

“Fuck off”

—

Y/n kept her annoyed facade with the boy, avoiding him at all costs. Apparently he didn’t take the hint no matter how many times she had to remind him; “we arent gonna screw”. Y/n knew he wasn’t about commitment and as much as she hated admitting it, if she ended up sleeping with him she knew she’d fall for him. As if she hadn’t already.

Any girl would though. She was not denying that Isaac was attractive, exceptionally so; she was definitely taken aback when she saw him for the first time all those weeks ago, seeing him tower slightly above her in his doorway-- shirtless nonetheless.

However, if Y/n was anything, she was unlucky.

Of course there was no escaping pretty boys at school and when her best friend began hanging out with Isaac it was nearly impossible to escape him.

Even worse, when she mentioned her grades to him he volunteered to tutor her which lead to the current situation.

Sitting in his dorm room.

Listening to him drawl on and on about something she’d lost interest in, tired of him making remarks about her in attempts to flirt, only to be shut down with a witty reply.

But damn did he look hot as fuck.

The way he glanced up at her every once in a while to make sure she was following along made her heart beat just a little faster and when he leaned over to correct something on her page and then give her a smug look-- because he knew what he was doing-- only made her squeeze her thighs together a bit harder.

“Earth to Y/n. I know it’s hard to keep your eyes off of me, but I’m trying to teach you” He mused, a smirk decorating his lips.

“I was ignoring you on purpose” She shot back at him, making an attempt to convince herself she didn’t want to kiss that stupid smirk off his face.

“I’m not asking you to stay, this has nothing to do with me.”

“Like you wouldn’t beg me to stay, you cocky asshole.” She shot him a glare, honestly enjoying their little bickering contest.

“must be your type, you’ve been gawking at me for the past hour.” Again with that low honey-like voice of his seeping out which made her face heat up and she stumbled for a comeback.

"aren’t you dating someone or something?” She retorted, her eyes shooting down to her work.

He cocked his head to the side, pursing his lips together, “Kinda. just fucking around, really.” He admitted, confused.

She mocked his confusion, “Kinda stop flirting with me then.”

He feigned a scoff, an eyebrow disappearing into his bangs, “Now you must be cocky if you think I’m flirting with you.” He spoke, sitting up in his chair indignantly.

She pushed him back into his chair, standing up from her seat and turning on her heels, saying nothing more.

“Really?” The boy stood up, chasing after her, in attempts to get her to stay. His hand wrapped around her wrist to stop her from leaving, her hand already on the door handle.

She hadn’t realized she slapped him until she saw him holding his face with his large hand, and she certainly didn’t register his tongue was down her throat not a moment later.

He smugly ate up a moan that left her lips, shoving her up against the door with a thud.

In a matter of moments she was laying under him on his bed, “what was that about us not screwing?” He cooed patronizingly.

“Fuck, Isaac, seriously just shut the fuck up and take your clothes off.”

With that, he had his shirt discarded on the floor in a matter of seconds and was already fiddling with the string of his sweatpants to slide them off.

He definitely wasn’t going to take it slow; weeks of being turned down by the girl had made him desperate enough and he wasn’t wasting any time-- he helped her take her clothes off, making out all the while, their lips only leaving to slide the shirt over her head.

“I’m not gonna be gentle, baby.” He breathed, hot breath fanning the girls ears.

She shuddered at his words, arousal pooling between her legs as he swiftly removed her panties, a low whine involuntarily slipping out as he spread her legs, but was quickly stopped when she flipped the position, looking down at him-- her turn to give him a smug look.

As he reached into his drawer to look for a condom her legs gripped his hips letting out a breathy, “I’m on the pill.” before kissing him again only for him to pull away again.

“Wait, you’re on the pill? so you’re fucking other guys?” a tsk left his lips, his hand reaching up and tucking her hair behind her ear.

“yeah, just not you.” She teased him, grinding into him to shut him up, her own smugness drinking up his groan.

She felt his hands dig into the flesh of her hips, his bulge clearly evident through his boxers. Another moan escaped his lips as she began kissing her way down his neck, all the exposed skin to her disposal-- and she was going to leave marks and bites all over it.

She didn’t mean to stare when she finally took his boxers off, it just sort of happened. Isaac's mouth opened, ready to say something snarky she could only assume.“say a word and I’ll leave right now.” She shut him down sternly, his hands going up in defense without a word.

She gave a ‘that's what I thought’ look, returning to leaving love bites on his neck. Her fingertips ran over the marks when she was done, admiring her work and how damn hot he looked with them, “Maybe I’ll let you give me some next time.” She said softly, meeting his gentle gaze.

“next time?” He asked, curiosity showing in his face."If you're not completely shit at this." She spoke, although she highly doubted it.

He had clearly taken that as a personal attack-- a challenge

Isaac had crawled on top of y/n and restrained her hands above her head. His knees kept her hips pinned to the bed beneath her. There was no way she was getting out of this. "what does that mean?" He growled, his voice was deep and low; y/n internally cursed herself for the butterflies that erupted in her stomach at his words.

She shook her head and a pathetic whine left her mouth. She went to open her mouth to reply, but she was abruptly cut off when Isaac pushed two fingers past her lips and into her mouth, pushing down on her tongue. She took the cue, her hand moving from above her head to wrap around his wrist, sucking down on them.

"Such a good girl."

She knew he was taunting her; he was asserting his dominance over her. She felt his other hand rest on her thighs.

He continued to languidly pump his fingers in and out of her mouth. He pulled his fingers out abruptly, grinning at the string of saliva that connected his fingers to her mouth. She let out a high pitched whine as she felt his hand snake up her thigh and tease her clit through her underwear. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said, looping a finger through her panties and pulling them off in one quick swoop. Then, he wasted no time in swiping a finger down the entire length of her pussy, stopping at the entrance and pushing in quickly. She let out a loud yell of pleasure at the sensation.

Her back arched off the bed and into Isaac, grinding down on his fingers to reach further into her.

Isaac pushed her hips down, getting a soft whine from the girl.

Inserting a second finger, he quickened the pace, curling his fingers inside of her with each pump hitting that sweet spot inside, which caused her vision to grow blurry with pure pleasure. Isaac's free hand reached up and cupped her breasts, pinching at her nipples and leaving kisses and love bites all over.

"You like that don't you, baby?" The way the words slipped from his lips like sweet honey, she couldn’t help the shudder that climbed up her spine, and the wave of arousal washed over her. She could feel the coil in her lower stomach begin to tighten as he continued fingering her. "Oh fuck I'm so close." She cried out as he began to rub tight circles on her clit.

“Yeah? You want to cum, baby? Want to cum all over my fingers?”

“Yes, god, yes, let me cum, please.” she cried out, feeling that coil tighten and the man’s pace speed up yet again, only to be dragged from the edge as Isaac stopped and pulled his fingers out. She let out an audible whimper at the loss of contact.

"I dont want to let you finish,” He let out a dark chuckle as he crawled up the bed to whisper into her ear, “You’re going to have to beg for it, work for it, baby.” He finally got what he wanted and he wanted it to last.

As embarassing as it was-- to let this guy who she'd made it a point to not sleep with-- make her beg like this, “Please, please let me finish.” her eyes held his. He grinned that bone-chilling grin that she couldn’t help but love.

y/n felt as if all her nerve endings were on fire as Isaac dipped forward and kissed along her jaw and down her neck.

She would be lying if she said that she wasn’t enjoying this. The way his hands would roam her body, a line of fire following every slight touch. His hands continued to dip between her thighs.

Every single time, he would promise her that he would let her finish this time. And every single time, he would take her right to the edge, prepare her for the release, only to completely rip it all away from her.

This routine continued four or five times until y/n was an overstimulated, babbling mess below them.

She was so frustrated and so overstimulated she wanted to cry. “Please, please let me finish this time.” Her voice came out as a weak whine, but at this point, she couldn’t care, not when the sweet promise of release was so close. Isaac gave a knowing look

“Of course, love.” Isaac stated, As soon he had let her wrists go, her hands made their way to the back of his neck. He let out a low chuckle as his head dipped down to kiss her on the lips. His strong hands grabbed her thighs to spread her legs. He started off slowly and entered her halfway. He then fully entered her again, this time going further, his cock stretching her as her pussy became wetter. She let out a loud moan at the feeling of him filling her up slowly.

He continued at this slow pace. They both moaned lightly with pleasure, but Isaac still didn’t enter all the way. Y/n could feel her body become more desperate, and she thrust herself up, causing his cock to enter her even more. This executes a long, low moan from both of them.

He pushed her thighs back down firmly.

“Oh fuck!” She cried, her back arching off the ground as Isaac began to draw his hips back again. “Please Isaac, Please go faster,” she begged.

“Faster?” he questioned, “Alright, baby, but I did warn you I wasn’t going to be gentle.”

True to his words, Isaac began thrusting into her fast and hard, she could feel her eyes rolling back and her back arching off the sheets. She was crying his name at this point; her body was so sensitive, and the way he was moving, she was not going to last much longer.

She felt him begin to speed up even more, spreading her legs wide open to go deeper. His fingers tightened slightly around her throat. Y/n lifted her hands up from beside her to grip onto his wrist in a feeble attempt to ground herself.

“I’m gonna cum,” She whined. “Isaac, please.”

“I want you to scream my name when you cum, baby.” he cooed in her ear.

Almost as soon as the words had left his mouth, the coil in her stomach snapped, and waves of blinding pleasure washed over her body. She knew the sounds coming from her mouth would probably make a pornstar blush, but she didn’t care, not when she felt like this. He continued as he chased his own orgasm, flopping down next to her after he finished, head light and chest heaving fast.

It was quiet except for the loud panting breaths that filled the room.

She definitely couldn't talk so he did, "Fuck..wow." Isaac laughed, turning his head to Y/n who was panting heavily, eyes shut tight as she tried collecting her thoughts.

After he had caught his breath and he was done panting and heaving, he sat up and ran his hands along her arm softly, "Let me clean you up. Just rest, love."

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