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#anyway this got really long so i'm sorry but i hope it's helpful!!
thorias · 3 days
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SEASON 2 WISH LIST:
-Madelyne is resurrected as a Horseman along with Gambit: I think there's a better story to tell with Madelyne being brought back (at least temporarily) than staying dead. The X-men having to fight her too would give Cyclops and Cable a more personal stake in this Apocalypse storyline, not that they really needed one, but still...
I said in another post that I wouldn't want to dilute the "Saving Gambit" story by making a bunch of other X-men Horsemen as well, but if it's just Madelyne, then I think it's okay. And I wouldn't expect Madelyne to survive this story anyway, since, aside from tying up a couple loose threads with the Summers family, her arc is basically finished now.
Plus, I just kind of like the idea of giving Deathbit a buddy in the spurned lover department; that could be fun.
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-Sabretooth returns. Logan (sans adamantium) has to fight him... and loses: I've always liked the idea that Sabretooth would probably beat Wolverine in a fair fight, (dude is like 3x Logan's size after all) but it's never been a fair fight since the adamantium basically made Logan unstoppable. But take the adamantium away and suddenly Wolverine is the underdog for a change, which makes the match-up a lot more interesting. And what's even the point of doing the bone claws story if it's not to see how Logan deals with being in a weakened state like this?
Granted, I want to see this for selfish reasons since Sabretooth is one of my favorite villains, but come on! Victor is long overdue for a W against Wolverine, and if he can't get it now, then I'm calling BS lol.
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-Mystique returns, working for Apocalypse: I think Demayo shot down the Val-Cooper-is-Mystique-in-disguise theory, (correct me if I'm wrong about that) but it would be pretty ridiculous if we didn't see her in season 2 since she worked with Apocalypse in XTAS on multiple occasions.
Plus, there's a ready-made story there with her and Rogue. In the 90s cartoon, Mystique wanted to get Rogue back as her daughter so badly that she was even willing to turn Rogue into a Horseman to do it. So just imagine if Mystique had a hand in convincing Apocalypse to resurrect Remy as Deathbit, or at least helped him pull it off, because she saw this as a way to get back into Rogue's good graces. That would add some really interesting pathos to a story that's already really emotionally charged.
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-Costume changes: I get that Marvel has toys to sell, but the different suits the team got in season 1 ain't it. Sorry, they're just not. The only one who pulled it off was Storm. Everyone else got a serious glow down. I actually felt low key embarrassed for Scott and Jean trying to make those retro costumes from the 60s/80s eras work; there's a reason those designs stayed in the past, you guys.
And I even like Rogue's green & white suit in the comics, but in the show it just looked awkward with the gloves being a different shade of green than the rest of it. I'd take just about any of her other costumes over this one.
Either change the suits again or go back to the old versions because I'm not feeling these current ones at all.
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-Magneto has a reunion with his kids... and it doesn't go the way he wants: We saw in the season 1 finale that Mags' separation from his children is something that's at least been bothering him, (though not enough for him to lift a finger to save them from being killed along with everyone else on Earth if he succeeded in destroying the planet's electromagnetic field, but I guess we're blaming that on bad writing) so I want him to meet his kids in season 2... only for it to go as horribly as it possibly could.
It would be both ironic and hilarious if Magneto is hoping to patch things up with his kids, only for Pietro and Lorna to try to fight and arrest him the instant they see him (X-Factor doesn't seem to be a thing anymore, but let's say they're still government employees and have the authority to arrest criminals/terrorists) because he did after all murder millions of innocent people with that EMP AND try to murder every other living thing on the planet, including them.
I mean, let's not kid ourselves, there's no way this family reunion is going to be a happy one after what he did. SOMEBODY has to hold Magneto accountable for that, and his own children doing it is about the most fitting thing that I can think of.
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-A big story arc for Gambit: Romy fans got gipped in season 1, and even if you're just a Gambit fan, you still had to settle for scraps with him only playing a major role in one episode, which coincidentally was the one where he got killed off. Yes, the stage is set for Deathbit to have a really compelling story in season 2, but that's going to depend on how it's done and frankly, after I got burned so many times in the first season, I'm skeptical that the writers will give this the care and attention it deserves.
Demayo said it was "key" that Remy died thinking he didn't deserve to be a hero and that Rogue had chosen Magneto instead of him. These things have gone unaddressed in the show since then, so I'm going to assume they're being saved for the Deathbit story and THE PAYOFF FOR THIS BETTER BE DAMN GOOD.
I want to see all of Remy's low self-esteem, self-loathing and resentment over the Rogneto debacle get twisted into a dark rage that Deathbit throws back in everyone's faces. AJ himself said that Remy didn't feel valued by the X-men or Rogue when he died, so use that! Make it part of the story! Make them own up to it. Force Rogue to confront her own feelings about how she handled that situation, (so far, she's been avoiding doing this) so it can factor into how they bring him back.
I know a lot of us assume that freeing Remy from Apocalypse's influence is going to come down to Rogue finally telling him that she loves him. And, yeah, that should be a big part of it, but it shouldn't be the only part. That's fine as far as Rogue is concerned, but Remy needs an arc too, and I just want it to be worth the wait after they put us through all this.
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-Deathbit vs Magneto: This needs to happen. Aside from the fact that Romy fans will have been clamoring for it for a long time, frankly, both characters are going to want it too. Mags will no doubt view Deathbit as the reason why he can't get Rogue back, and Deathbit... well, we all know what his reasons are; he'll likely want to take Magneto apart just for the pure satisfaction of it.
Now since Magneto's so OP, Gambit wouldn't stand much of a chance in a straight fight under normal conditions, but we know Apocalypse evolves/enhances mutants' powers when they become Horsemen, so imagine if he unlocked Gambit's Omega potential, so Remy has his New Son powers now, or at least a heightened version of what he had before. So Magneto goes in brimming with confidence that he's going to wipe the floor with his rival for Rogue's affections, but then in a shocking twist, Deathbit breaks out his newly enhanced power set and turns the tables on him.
Do I really want to see Mags get taken down a peg and humbled by Gambit? Sure. But narratively, this makes a ton of sense to do. Since Demayo loves Magneto so much, I highly doubt it will happen, (certainly not with this outcome at least) but I think it would be super satisfying for fans.
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nedlittle · 2 years
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hello! toomanyassassins here! i've been enjoying your monthly book overviews and it's inspiring me to try and get back into reading and to try using storygraph. do you have an tips for reading as much as you do? i struggle to even get past the first page of most books, much less focus on them long enough to finish them 😅
i'm glad someone is reading my reading wrap-ups!
to be completely transparent, the reason why i've been able to read so much is because i spent the first half of the year unemployed and passively suicidal, so i had the free time living at home to read, and i had the incentive to read because it's one of the few things that can actually distract from the fact that my brain is eating itself alive. and i read a lot now because i have a relaxed job which can have long stretches of time where i have nothing to do but sit at a desk and mop/try not to freeze to death/wonder why nobody is coming to hear my wonderful whale facts, so there's ample time for me to read on the clock, and my boss doesn't mind.
some actual advice is to carve out a dedicated time each day when you want to read. 9/10 nights i read in bed before i fall asleep, desperately trying to take in as much as i can before melatonin sends me to the shadow realm. it gets you into a routine and helps you feel cozy. i can get an hour or two in each night depending on the circumstances. and then my kindle sleeps on my pillow next to me so if the insomnia keeps me awake at 4 am i can at least pass the time.
do you have a commute? read on that! in 2020, i read moby-dick and the brothers karamazov and the worst journey in the world because i lived and worked in the suburbs of shanghai and everytime i wanted to see a friend or a museum or get basically anywhere not in my district, i had a minimum 40 minute metro ride each way. on my (mercifully shorter) commute to work, i could still get in a chapter or two! if you have to drive, try audiobooks! they aren't generally for me, but i imagine they'd be good if you're like. stuck on a highway somewhere waiting in bottlenecked traffic. regardless, i have a physical book or my kindle (or both) in my bag nearly every time i leave the house just in case i want to sit in a park for a bit or have to wait for an appointment etc.
sometimes you gotta shop around and try a few books before you're actually engaged in one. at least once a month i will think okay, i'm going to read (x) only to open it up on my kindle, read the first couple pages, and be like nah, not right now. so i open another book and sometimes that also isn't the right one, so i open another until i find something that clicks with how i'm feeling. if you're not immediately gripped by something it's totally fine to put it down for a bit or for forever!
lastly, reading shouldn't be a competition and i think goodreads and our collective obsession with categorizing, aestheticizing, and presenting very specific versions of ourselves has done detriment to the way people read because it isn't enough to read for fun you've got to be ahead of your reading challenge you've got to read (x) number of books with y-specific rep in them in order to be seen like you're Consuming The Right Media. yes, i have a reading challenge on storygraph but it's partly because i just like graphs and diagrams and have a brain made of swiss cheese. just have fun with it man! it's not a competition and it's not a game it's something that should be done for pleasure and information :)
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ihaventsleptinweekz · 6 months
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Sometimes I think I'm a normal person then the 11 pm thought kicks in and suddenly I'm insane
#Going to mildly and vaugly vent in the tags to buckle up ^_^#Will not clarify on any of this because it's more fun not to. Hope that helps#Anyway I'm kind of just. Weirded out by myself rn. Like I'm fine but I'm side-eyeing myself a little bit#And recently I've been believing thay I think really I was more immature a year ago#and while I do think back at her (year ago me) and kinda laugh at her for being overdramatic I feel kinda bad about it because yknow I was#But then I got kind of weirdly slowed down? In my being less freaked out process#Mostly because of Hellenite everyone say thank you hellenite (sarcastic love those fics so much)#But reading the fic kind of reminded me of the emotions that were going on at that time#And while I don't really miss or regret what happened too much anymore I think the general emotions of it started popping up again#Like idk how to say this but I'm over IT as a whole- but the emotions are still kinda left over?#Man really do NOT know how to put this#Cause it's kinda old news and frankly I am wildly happy with where I am right now#And I'm kind of thankful?? But also just a little :I about the whole thing. Which is making me inwardly side-eyeish#And I do think that I probably wouldn't change much if I could- and honestly I'm a little more embarrassed than anything else#Sorry for the weird long rambling tags just didn't want to call either of the like- maybe 3 friends I'd consider bringing this up with#I probably should check in with them though#Ough and I have work to do tmrw#Ew ew ew ew#Feel like this week has gone too damn fast and also not fast enough lmao#I'm also kinda nervous because I might have to take the ASL placement test soon to see if I qualify for skipping a couple ASL classes#Which would be nice cause I would LOVE to graduate quicker#And with all the AP classes I took in high-school it'd be nice to knock a bit of time off my college thing#Although admittedly I DID get that scholarship so it couldn't hurt???#It might actually give me more time to get EIPA certified and check out some internships??#Which would make getting jobs out of college WAY easier#Although maybe it'd be easier to get NIC certified if I retook a couple classes instead of trying to skip them??? God maybe I'd be behind#Ofc that wouldn't be a thing until after college#I'll probably have to save up money soon to start thinking about taking the test since it's so damn hard and so damn expensive#At least from what other interpreters have told me#Which is good!!! The it being hard thing anyways. Makes sure Deaf people get GOOD interpreters thst they deserve!!
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tvrningout-a · 10 months
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from a starter call i made at some point... | @yasashiiku's kyo encounters kaiya!
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" do you think... would it be odd if... " how shy and unsure the demoness appears before her sun, gaze downturned and fingers fidgeting with the sleeve of her kimono. it's unlike her; they have long since passed the stage of being shy with each other. " if i wanted to spar with you? "
the question is unexpected and clearly uncomfortable on kaiya's part. for years she's avoided violence, determined to die before harming another creature, but things have changed. she's changed. death is no longer a fitting punishment for someone such as her but an ending she wants to avoid meeting too soon. to live with the people she loves, to remain by kyojuro's side, to protect these feelings and the future she now hopes for -- are they not worth fighting for?
that sentiment remains on the tip of her tongue, though, silenced by stubborn uncertainty as she peeks up at the flame breather.
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fangisms · 8 months
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hiii i loved „spring breaks loose”!!🤍 could i request another something for theodore, where the reader is quite bubbly and loves talking and he, the quiet guy he is, just likes to listen? and maybe the reader is worried that she talks too much and it could be annoying to him but he’s just so in love that he’s obsessed with all her rabling😭😭 sorry if thats too specific
darling socialite
A/N: um i love this because if someone let me chat their ear off, i would fall in love. i love a chatter and i love a listener 🩷 gif creds: @perfectlyfuckingcivils
Pairings: Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader
Summary: You are talkative as all hell, and Theo has dubbed himself your devoted listener. 1.3k words
Warnings: i be cursing, fluff, mild self-consciousness, two dummies in LOVE, mattheo being a perv (boy moment), kissing…, pansy being a slight bitch (lovingly)
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Everyday, you look forward to telling Theo anything and everything. Sometimes, you'll get so excited to tell him something that you'll jot it down on the nearest surface. Most of the time, that surface is your hand. Who can blame you; you can't resist the gory details.
Everyday, Theo looks forward to hearing anything and everything from you. You're his favorite news source, his sweetest messenger, his darling socialite, and he is your devoted subscriber. He's worried one day you'll run out of things to tell him, but according to the ink splotches across your skin, there's a slim chance that'll happen.
"Hi, teddy!" you chirp, and he turns to welcome you into the seat beside him. "You will not believe what I saw in the courtyard on my way here: a willow tit!"
Mattheo chokes on a gulp of juice, sputtering in his seat and looking over at you. "Pardon?"
"Don't be crude, Matty. I'm talking about birds."
"Yeah, I got that, I just never realized you’re playing for the other team—"
"Mattheo!" you holler, glaring at him in utter disbelief, "you complete idiot! Birds, as in real birds. As in those things that fly around and chirp and eat berries!"
"Let me get this straight, we're not talking about some bird's tits? Suddenly, I'm uninterested," he says, earning a pointed glare from Theo.
"Anyway," you say, rolling your eyes and facing Theo, "You hardly see them anymore, they're very rare, but I saw one, and it was the cutest creature I've ever seen on campus! It was so round, I could have died. He must've liked all the rain we got over the weekend. I hope he survives the winter and has lots of little tit babies in the spring!"
Theo could not be more head over heels for you while you babble about round tits and babies. He thinks if he ever opens his mouth to respond, he’ll screw it up in an instant. Thank Merlin, he's naturally quiet and content to listen to you all day. And thank Merlin, you never ask for anything more from him.
If only you knew how much he truly adores you and your ramblings. He holds your company in his highest regard and considers every time you choose him a blessing.
You never think too much of Theo's tight-lippedness. You figure if he was completely sick of it, he'd just get up and walk away. Or maybe that's not like him, and maybe you are a bother.
It doesn't help when Pansy skips up to you in the hall and says, "I'm really impressed you're able to hold Theo's attention as long as you do."
"What are you talking about, P?" you say.
"Well... don't you ever worry he's, like... bored with you? I mean, when was the last time he actually contributed to your 'conversations'. I just don't want you to get your hopes up, you know?" —she shrugs it off like it's not an unforgivable curse to the gut—"If I were you, I'd find a more attentive playmate. You can always talk to me!"
"Thanks, Pansy," you say.
"Just looking out for a friend! See ya!"
You nod and wait by the bottom of the stairs as she hops her way up. You didn't think you were getting your hopes up, necessarily. You thought Theo was just a good listener. And sure, he's not super responsive, but he's just shy. That's not his fault.
There's a rapping of knuckles at the door, and Mattheo hurdles his bed and reaches for the knob.
"Why, good evening, dearest birdwatcher"—Theo perks up from where he's rifling through his trunk.
"I could say the same to you, perv," you tease, "Is Theo around? I need—"
"To talk to him? Figures. He's just hiding his softcore stash—"
"Shut up!" Theo hollers, popping up and hurrying to the door, a little flushed to find you looking at him, "he's just joking."
Mattheo chuckles, "No, he's right, Theo would never have so much fun"—he dodges the jab to his side—"Alright, I'll leave you two lovebirds to your tits and whatnot. Try not to make too much noise, we have downstairs neighbors." He winks and makes his way down the boys dormitories stairwell.
And suddenly, Theo can't remember the last time he was truly alone with you. No onlookers or eavesdroppers, no Pansy and no Mattheo. Just the two of you. His sweaty palms and your rapid heartbeat.
"I need to ask you something," you finally blurt. He looked so nervous you thought he might throw up over the railing, so you put him out of his misery before he has the chance.
"Yes, yeah, anything," he huffs.
"Well," you say, "I was thinking—just... ruminating, really, because it was suggested that I bore you with my chattiness"—you cross your arms over your chest and look to the floor—"and not that I'm begging for pity or even a response, I just wanted to know how you feel because I realized maybe I don't ask about you enough. You know, like I'm always worried about me, or something, but I do worry about you, too! I just wasn't sure if that's something—if you maybe wanted to talk about it more. Because I can be a good listener! I'd be happy to hear whatever you have to say!"
Theo leans his shoulder against the doorframe, adjusting the bottom of his sweater as it clings to his hips. How could he let you believe you're too much for him. How could he let you believe yourself to be some kind of social burden to him. All because he'd much rather listen to you than contribute his own two cents.
"See! Merlin, even now, I've just talked your ear off while trying to apologize for constantly talking your ear off! And I haven't even apologized, yet! I'm so sorry, Theo, I know it's a problem, and I didn't mean to take advantage of your politeness."
You scuff your sole on the landing with a whine, and he leans to the side to watch you look over the edge. It's so quiet for a moment, he can hear your soft breathing if he focuses on it.
"It's not a problem," Theo says. You look over, lips parted at the smug look on his face. "And if I was the one who suggested otherwise, I couldn't be more apologetic."
It makes you smile. He's just said two very thoughtful things to you. Out loud. To your face. You could crumble.
"No! No, teddy, it wasn't you, it was... doesn't matter. You really don't mind?"
He shakes his head, a little amused, honestly. How could he mind? You’re the greatest thing since dark chocolate, and he’d still give that up. You’d go just as well with his afternoon tea.
“Well, then,” you huff, warmer under his gaze, determined to get this damned apology across.
“Alright,” Theo says. Apology accepted. Apology not even necessary. But still accepted.
“Okay. But next time you catch me rambling, you better just shut me up! Tell me to ‘shush’ or something! It’s a problem, and I give you full permission to—”
He kisses you. He leans down, smug with his fingers under your chin, and he kisses you! Shuts you right up like you’re still some gullible first year completely wooed by his boyish charms! Oh, but he’s kissing you very sweetly. And when your knees go a tad wobbly, he rushes to cradle your elbow.
“Like that?” he says.
“That’s no way to treat a lady, Theodore. You should be completely ashamed of yourself for ever thinkin—”
He kisses you again. More sure and much quicker. Like a reflex. A knee jerk reaction without the kneeing or the jerking. Just his stupidly soft lips.
“Yeah,” you whisper, “that works… but you can’t just kiss me every time you want to shut me up.”
“No”—he pecks your lips, fingers gentle at your cheek—“I plan on kissing you much more often than that.”
masterlist
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stevieschrodinger · 9 months
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Part One of Rock Star Eddie and Baker Steve wrong number AU
Link to Part Two
Eddie's got dubious history with picture messages. Only a very small group of people have his number, considering he's the front man of a multimillion best selling metal band, he doesn't ever want his number to be public knowledge.
So yeah, picture message from and unknown number? Dubious.
Eddie's had enough dick and...vag...pics in his time that he, honestly, doesn't really want another. But when the picture is followed by a message, "were you thinking something like this?"
Well, Eddie's a curious guy. So, committing himself to the idea that this might be new number time, again, he opens the message.
To be confronted with a cake. A really fucking cool cake actually, it's got a car dashing around a muddy track on top with a big '5' in the middle. All of it looks edible, made out of...cake stuff. Eddie has no idea what it is, but it looks delicious.
"One layer chocolate, one layer red velvet? I can do any combination of flavours you want."
Well. Eddie isn't anything but impulsive and he was trying to figure out what the fuck to do for the 'quiet' celebration they were planning for going platinum. Again.
"I think you have the wrong number'" Eddie types, "but I definitely want to order a cake from you."
"Oh my god I'm so sorry, unsolicited cake pics are the worst 😉"
And Eddie can't help it, he laughs, and types back, "if I told you I wanted three tiers of the darkest, spookiest, cherry chocolate what would you come up with?"
It takes a couple of minutes, but Eddie's phone pings twice in quick succession, the first picture is of a spooky orange cake clearly Halloween themed, covered in ghosts and skeletons and stuff. The second is jet black and has a coffin on top that looks like it's leaking green corrosive stuff and Eddie nearly throws his phone in excitement. "That! The second one!"
"🤣 that's an old pic, I was just starting out then, but everything is edible, the green slime is made out of jello"
"Where are you based and can you make it for the 15th? I'll get a courier to collect."
"Sure thing, how many portions? And I need a deposit up front. I'll do chocolate ganache and cherry filling."
"Errr...like, 150? Maybe?"
Eddie sits and watches as the dots appear and disappear, appear and disappear, and then there's a pic.
It's a selfie of the most beautiful man he's ever seen. And he's standing in a kitchen, holding a cake pan. Suddenly Eddie's phone is ringing in his hand and he is panicking because beautiful man is calling him. "Hello?"
"Hey, man, it's Steve, the cake guy?". Eddie assumes he makes an affirmative noise because Steve keeps talking, "anyway, that cake pan I'm holding is literally the largest one I own, even if I did three tiers, no way will it cater that many, I'm a small business, you know, it's just me. I can recommend you some companies I know would do a great job."
But then, Eddie will never get to talk to beautiful man ever again, "what if you made like, three cakes?". He asks desperately.
There's a long beat of silence on the phone, "I mean, in theory, I mean, it might cost you more than-"
"I'll pay it. I'll pay double, for, inconvenience, or whatever-"
And oh no, beautiful man has the most beautiful laugh too. Eddie's fucked. He's so fucked.
"I'll raise you, two cakes and fifty muffins?" Steve laughs again, and Eddie laughs right along with him.
Steve grabs his phone when it pings, hoping for Eddie. It is Eddie. It's a selfie from the neck down, like always, Steve still doesn't know what the guy looks like, but Eddie's wearing a deep red shirt that he's clearly just dumped a whole cup of coffee down, "hope your days going better than mine, sweetheart,"
Steve sends back a selfie with a lump of uncooperative modelling fondant in the background, "that depends, can you tell what this is supposed to be?"
Steve's pretty sure it's wierd to talk to a customer every day, but he's started to find he's looking forward to Eddie's messages. Even when they turn flirty. Especially when they turn flirty, maybe.
And maybe it's not exactly professional that Steve's found a lot of reasons to call Eddie. He just, needs to get this right, and if Eddie wants chocolate covered cherries on the cupcakes, well, Steve needs to call him and check, right? Right.
Steve heads out into the lounge with flour on his nose and a mixing bowl under his arm, Dustin, Lucas and Max are sprawled on the couch, El lying on the floor. He can hear Mike and Will fucking around outside. He spoons up some cherry mixture, "hey will you try-"
"Shhhhhhhh!"
Well. Rude. Steve looks to the interview they're watching on the TV. It's some metal band Steve vaguely recognises, and when the lead guy speaks...Steve has to sit down. Because that sounds a lot like-
"So, Eddie," the show host guy starts, and Steve's knees would go weak of he wasn't already sitting down. He's certain his stomach has left the building. "Seeing anyone?"
Eddie laughs, says no, but the band mate next to him makes a show of nudging Eddie and sharing a look.
The host picks up on it immediately, "so there is someone," Eddie's still shaking his head, but he's got a shy smile on his face that makes Steve feel like he's melting. "Come on Eddie, give us something."
"It's not a thing," Eddie flaps his hands, "don't make it a thing."
"Oh it's a thing alright," the audience laugh, "come on, give us something!"
Eddie looks uncomfortable for a second before shrugging, "they, uhm, they make the most amazing cakes you've ever seen."
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gotham-daydreams · 9 months
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Not Tonight
[Platonic! Yandere! Neglectful Batfam × Gender Neutral! Sibling Reader]
[Warnings: Mentions of Neglect, Reader generally not having a good time.]
(Not proofread. Not too much Yandere shown. Mostly angst with Reader. Set up(?))
2nd chapter here. Chapter 3 Pt. 1, Pt. 2. [Series Masterlist]
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How many times have you heard them say that? How many times have you tried to do something with them, to share your passion — or even just have some coffee with them, only to hear them say that phrase time and time again.
"Not tonight."
Well, what if you didn't ask them during the night? What if you asked them in the afternoon, or just when they were already up and about?
"Sorry! I can't right now, patrol reeeally kicked my ass last night. Besides, I have some other things that I have to get done, but maybe next time! For sure!"
Okay, right. That makes sense. Sometimes their line of work can be tough and draining, especially when someone is trying to run Gotham to the ground that night. So what if you just try to ask them when they aren't so busy? It may really limit the times you can ask... but you'd still try. Maybe it could also help if you asked for smaller things, like if they'd just like to spend a little time with you before going out again, or if you could just hang around them for a while? Nothing big, and anything was fine. Even if it was just sitting next to them, and having some small talk. Or maybe just the sitting part if talking was too much.
You'd take anything at all.
"I'm actually heading out right now, so I can't stick around. Go ask someone else."
"Can't you see that I already have enough compang with Titus here? Go bother Drake or something, I don't care."
All you could hear was snores past the door when you went to ask. So you moved onto someone else, hoping for a yes as your heart began to squeeze.
Someone had to agree eventually, right?
You begged the Gods as you traveled down the long halls. The chills of reality creeping up on you.
"Sorry, I'm going out to hang with some friends, but maybe next time!"
"..." She just looked at you before shaking her head, and taking her leave.
"I've got something to do at the moment, sorry, but hey, maybe you could ask your old man? Oh! Or maybe Alfred. That's a good idea."
Dick was out in Bludhaven, and you didn't want to bother Barbara considering how bisy she must've been the other night. So, you had no other choice. You asked, heart bleeding from how hard it squeezed.
"Not now."
Simple, to the point, and sharp.
Bruce's words were as cold as ever, and yet the echo in the cave only seemed to make the gap between you and him feel so much bigger. Even as you just nodded, eyes pointed to the floor. Taking your leave with a soft sigh that barely escaped you.
The elevator ride was longer than you remembered. The cold chill in the air grew freezing even as you stepped out, and now stood in one of the many halls in the Wayne Manor. Portraits and pictures decorated the walls, their painted and photographed eyes staring at you. Their gaze far from soft, but at least it was present. At least they, in that way, felt present.
You swore the only times they ever smiled at you that wasn't faked, or just for the sake of appearances was in those paintings and photos. Honestly, it was also probably the most times they've even looked at you too, and as sad as it is — you did say you'd take anything, right?
A 'no' or 'maybe' was part of that anything, technically. It's just not what you were hoping for.
Sighing again, you stared up at one of the portraits, eyes shinging under the lights as everything you refused to say made itself so clear for a moment. You didn't want much, and never asked for more than what you were given. You didn't think so anyway.
You always followed the rules, you did more than just excel in all your classes no matter how hard it was for you to understand certain things, and you even tried to get into things your family seemed to enjoy without pushing too hard.
You studied up on all the pets Damian had so that you could not only care for them properly, but maybe even take care of them with him some day. You played games and read reviews on games you saw Tim play just for a chance that maybe you'd get the opportunity to play with him. You picked up boxing and have even been practicing your aim with an airsoft gun, and have also been going to certain place when you could to practice using real guns and learn about them just so you'd maybe be able to have a conversation with Jason, and even connect with him in some way. You even read nearly all the books in the library just to have a sliver of hope for something, anything.
You learned sign language in three different languages and tried to find out what Cassandra was interested in, just to have some kind of interaction with her. Even writing on small note cards in serval other languages in hopes she'd give some kind of response, even if you forgot to put your initials and such more than several times. You participated in gymnastics in hopes of getting closer to Dick. You tried to find out what Barbra was into so you could also hold up a conversation with her if given the chance. You've tried to match Stephen's energy and do things she likes and have even taken up material arts as a means to maybe be a little closer with everyone!
Yet it never seems like enough.
Your schedule was so packed and filled with activities and extra lessons of all kinds, just so that you could feel like you had something in common with someone in this family. So that, when given the chance, you'd be able to form a connection with one of them and your efforts and sacrifices wouldn't be in vain. Though that still had yet to happen.
You weren't even a vigilante as you tried to persue your own passion and dreams, and yet that one single thing seemed to be keeping you away from everyone else. The one thing you were unwilling to do for them just seemed to make the gap between you and the rest of the family grow bigger. They're constant and continuous dismissals only seemed to further that point.
Just... what were you doing wrong? Was you not being a vigilante and constantly putting yourself at risk every night really putting that much of a dent in your relationships? Did your dreams really get in the way of that? Just because you didn't want to put yourself in danger? Just because you wanted to pursue music instead?
You took up art despite not being super interested in it before. You've been reading all of your life. Your stretched, ran, exercised, cooked, cleaned, organized, sang, wrote, danced, and even sculpted. You picked up almost any hobby someone could have under the sun, even if it began to feel like a chore and a job to you, just so that you could have something, anything in common with this family.
Though now you've gone through countless 'hobbies', and dropped many more since nothing seemed to be working, it... it still didn't feel like enough. Like you had to be doing something more despite having lost countless hours of sleep, just to go through the list of hobbies you had written down that you had left to try. You even took up some sports you were somewhat interested in, and yet nothing clicked.
Though is that really surprising when no one noticed how many times you snuck out for lessons and practice, or how long you were out? When you'd even forget to return to the Manor sometimes, and anyone still had yet to notice you were even gone in the first place?
... You couldn't help the small chuckle that escaped you. It was broken in every way, and yet empty all the same. Maybe you were finally taking after Bruce, but you wouldn't get your hopes up.
You looked up at the painting as if it'd give you all the answers, and yet dismiss you at the same time. The disappointment you felt was normal to you at this point, but the aching pain that came after was always the hardest part. Yet you still stared at the painted faces as if they were your real family, and the people close to them. Looked at the calculated and skilled brush strokes as if they'd give you what your family couldn't. What they refused to give you at every twist and turn, no matter how much you tried to accommodate to them. To do things for them. To just feel worthy enough to stand by their side. To be closer to them.
Though in the end, it is only that. A painting. A well crafted piece that, no matter how skilled the artist, could never truly capture how distant and vague they felt when you were the one standing to the side. No matter how much experience the painter had, they'd never be able to express and show how this poor excuse of a family felt to you, because they were only like that around you.
Maybe you'd feel special if it didn't make you feel like you were wasting your life living like this...
Eventually, you were able to tear you eyes away from the painting. The moon beginning to rise as you were sure the Manor was becoming more empty than it usually was, as more of its visitors and residents left.
The painting itself was nice even if it was one of many that didn't include you, with the number of photographs without you in them being much higher. Honestly, it used to be one of your favorites despite how bittersweet you feel about it now.
You still remember that day, but that would be implying that you forgot the others.
Regardless, you managed to pull yourself away from the spot you had been stuck in for the few moments you were trapped inside your own head. You tried to make yourself feel a little better, and give yourself some reassurance that maybe tomorrow would be different some how, and if not? Perhaps the day after, and the day after that.
Yet it all failed as you passed by more and more memories. Some were events you had participated in, sure, but the pictures made it look like you were never there in the first place. Heartwarming moments littered the halls, but you only recall seeing them from a distance — or being aware that the moment had even happened only when you saw the picture be put up.
It was like the very universe was trying to send you a sign with your constant failures and your family's persistence, intentional or not, to keep you at a distance. You didn't even know if it was appropriate to refer to them as your 'family', and maybe it wasn't considering things, but you still weren't sure.
You had been fighting for a chance to talk with any of them about anything at all for the longest time, because you wanted to be a part of this family. You wanted to spend time with them and really give this 'new life' of yours a chance, but now that 'new' part of this life had worn off. It was hard and honestly more draining than it was rewarding at this point, but you still wanted to give it a try.
Sure, it had been years at this point and now you were just about to go into college, and when you had first arrived here you weren't even middle school, yet little to no progress had been made — you never gave up. You haven't given up. So maybe you could try for a little longer? Just... a little bit, not too much this time, and figure something out?
You almost felt a little sense of hope return to you, no matter how redundant and helpless this situation felt and seemed. Yet it all came crumbling down again when you passed by one of the rooms, and saw something taped to the door.
It was a flier for your performance. One that would be happening soon.
Since your siblings began to pay less and less attention to you as time went on, with your conversations with them growing even shorter, you opted to just tape fliers of your upcoming performances on their doors. Though only the performances you'd thought they'd enjoy, and just hoped that they would show up, if they wanted to, when you stepped onto that stage and approached the instrument you'd be playing for the evening.
You tried texting and other forms of communication at first, but those quickly stopped working and so you just opted for this, and of course it was just as effective as the others.
Alfred was really the only one who listened to your music when you performed, and you only knew that because you caught him playing one of the live performances you had done on the television one day. He not only going out of his way to record the performance, but also trying to find the channel it was broadcasted on.
Ever since you've tried to give him the correct channel number when you do live performances, but that still didn't feel like enough. You loved and appreciated Alfred from the depths of your heart and soul, but what would it take for one of your siblings or close family friends to notice you like that? What would it take for your supposed father to even care to listen to your music? To watch a performance? To not turn you away?
It was only in that moment did a new emotion fuel you. Crawling it's way up your spine as you carefully took the flier in your hands, looking it over before ripping it off the door.
This. This one small thing was all you wanted from them. Over everything else, you just wanted to see one of their faces, one time when you looked out to the crowd when you performed — but every single time, all you saw were strangers.
Every charity event, every gala, every party- that's all you were surrounded by, strangers. Even when you caught small glimpses of them, they were always doing something else, and completely off in a totally different world than your own. That distance along creating a large void-like gap between you and them, and yet it only ever continued to grow. Even when they stood next to you, it was like you couldn't be further apart.
The reality of everything was crushing. Near deadly as you could feel your chest and lungs tighten, with your fingers digging into the paper enough to tear it apart, and reaching your palms as they formed crescent moons, soon drawing blood. Yet nothing could compare to the weight of your heart, and how heavy it felt to carry in your chest.
As you finally moved on from the door, your mind raced. Memories and flashbacks filling your head as every word and notion flashed before your eyes. Barely even paying attention to where you were going, but not caring enough to pay attention.
Every dismissal and excuse thrown your way. Every head shake and blank look. Every confused look, and realization that you were standing there the entire time. Every birthday that passed with the same wish never being granted. Every celebration spent on your own. Every message left on read. Every note ignored. Every time you were forgotten. Every time you were left behind. Every time you brought yourself home, and every time they never noticed. Every night wasted, trying to come up with different things to do only for all of them to turn out fruitless. Everyday that 'maybe' never cones true. Every time you looked out to that sea of strangers, hoping to see someone you recognized, only to find none. Every hour you wasted trying to do something for them while they never once thought of you.
Maybe you'd cry if you could. Then again, maybe not.
You already had spent too many tears over failures you recovered and grew from, and hardships you faced and fought. You've already cried just a little too much during those night you just couldn't handle being so alone, in such a big place anymore. Besides, you've cried enough over people who've never once thought of you. Who never once tried to make time to even see one of your performances, or even allow you to spend a few minutes in their space.
You've given them enough, you think. Especially since after you spent years trying to just make it two thirds of the way — they couldn't even reach that one third of the gap you couldn't. They didn't even try, at least not anymore, and after you had tried to make it easy. Yet, you only hurt yourself in the end.
They never cared about you, and maybe they did once upon a time, but good does that do now when you're trying to go out of your way to make things convenient and easier for them, only for them to skip out on you anyway. No text, no call, no message, no indication, nothing. Just pure silence.
Maybe you were asking for too much, but was it really so bad to want to be loved? And by the people who are supposed to be your family no less?
Hah, who are you kidding at this point. You've just been living in a house full of strangers, and you're the only one who hasn't seen it yet. They've already long since cast you out, and it's only now have you come to truly realize it.
Especially now, as you stand in front of the foot of the door to the music room. Staring at the knob as if it'll turn itself.
You weren't surprised, honestly. Playing music had quickly become an amazing outlet for you, and you had always come here to seek out what little your family couldn't give you; comfort. So it was no wonder that as you collapsed mentally, you had subconsciously brought yourself here.
And yet, only one thought entered your head in that moment.
'They don't deserve to hear my music.'
Perhaps it was now that you decided they had lost the privilege to do so. After all, ever since you had started having performances, even ones in front of wealthy crowds, your 'family' had seemingly been avoiding them like the plague. Never daring to even attend one, for whatever reason, and sure you could understand why they didn't attend the ones you performed at night — but they couldn't use that excuse anymore. You have strictly been playing during the after noon, and at sunset at a push, for over three years now. You've been playing in front of crowds and releasing music for four.
So, you turned away, walking off to your room as your thoughts still stormed. Anger fueling you as you barely remembered storming into your room, collecting any valuables and belongings you had and stuffing them into a bag or two. Not caring about clothes, and only what you deemed important and meaningful to yourself as you just grabbed and shoved everything into a bag if you could.
You could clearly tell now that you obviously weren't wanted, and that no one here even wanted to do the smallest things with you. That even asking to just spend a few minutes with them was too much. So you were doing the only sensible thing, and getting the hell out of here. Moving so quickly that your breathing became uneven, but you didn't stop until you had packed everything you needed, or was important to you in some way.
You only really had a second thought about all this when you were at your window, just about ready to jump out until you paused for a second.
Looking back at the door to your room, you couldn't help but hesitate. There was only ever one person in this entire Manor who treated you like family, and actually put in effort to not only be with you, but to indulge themself in your passion. That met you at the half way mark, and even went a little over sometimes. Since even if everyone else had ignored you — Alfed was there, even if despite all of his efforts you still couldn’t handle this, and maybe that was also your own fault in some way.
You still didn't want to stay, you couldn't anymore, but shouldn't you at least say goodbye? Maybe? After everything... at least he tried.
...
You settled for second best.
Quickly, you grabbed a flashcard and wrote down something before pocketing it and moving back to the window. You may not have any equipment for this kind of thing, but you still managed to scale and work your way around the wall, and managed to reach the window to Alfred's room.
You took a little peak inside, and when you saw that he wasn't there, you opened up the window just a bit, place the small note on the windowsill, and closed it. Then, you skillfully and carefully made your way down, and snuck off to Gotham City. Making your way to a friend's place as you crashed there for the night.
Never once did you look back.
Nor did you ever feel inclined to.
------
Later that night, when Alfred read the note, all it said was:
I'm sorry, Alfed. - Y/n
Just with that alone, it was like he understood everything despite the little that was said. All he could wish you was luck, and that you'd be safe wherever you went.
Suddenly, just like that. The nights where melodies would lull the residence of the Manor to sleep, and bring a temporary, mellow peace to all who heard such a tune, were long gone...
Guess they'll just have to find it, and bring it back.
--------
Kind of rushed at the end there, hope it isn't too bad for a first post. There's probably a lot of mistakes, so apologies for that.
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lunargrapejuice · 2 months
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Hi how are you doing I was wondering if I can request a wriothesley, Neuvillette, xiao, and zhongli(separately) with a pregnant reader who falls down the stairs but the reader is okay
thank you for requesting! i'm sorry, i didn't write xiaos i just couldn't come up with something worthy of sharing slkhdfs but i hope you enjoy everyone elses<3
wriothesley, neuvillette + zhongli (separately) x pregnant!reader
warnings: hurt/comfort theme but no one actually gets hurt, lots of tears and congrats you've given your beloved a heart attack but all is well
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wriothesley:
you’re nearly to the top of the stairs in wriothesleys office when you see he isn’t here and let out a huff at how the trip up these stairs makes you so breathless in your current, very pregnant, state. by the lingering warmth and sweet scent of tea in the air, he must have been here not too long ago and at this point you might just take the few last steps up and rest of the couch, skipping your appointment with sigewinne and waiting for your husband to return here but maybe wrio was already making his way to the clinic.
at the height of your pregnancy brain right now, you can’t quite remember now if you told him this morning that you’d meet him here or there but with the lack of his presence now, you’re starting to think it’s the former. 
letting go of the chilled railing just long enough to turn around, you hold on tightly with each step you take down, your other hand cradling your round belly. you have to take each step one at a time, one foot after the other and archons it’s so exhausting to walk and your feet hurt and you just want to be laying in bed in your beloved arms with a serving bowl size of whatever you’ve been craving throughout the day.  
but especially to be with wriothesley. your pregnancy has brought your affection and want for him to a whole other level that was making it so you really might cry if you didn’t see him soon. he just.. made everything better with only a gentle touch and a flash of his smile, though it also helps that he dotes on your every want and need when he’s able and when it’s within reason. 
maybe it was that want that made your heart skip a beat when the large doors of his office open and not a second later you see the familiar tips of his dark hair and your already tired legs wobble, making you miss the next step down. it hurts your arm trying to hang onto the railing at such an awkward angle and you’re forced to let go, your body tensing and instinctively wrap around your stomach to try to prepare you for the impact of the metal stairs as you fall.
wriothesleys chest tightens quickly and terribly at the sight unfolding before him. he isn’t sure how he’s able to get out the call of your name but it seems drowned out anyways against his heavy boots hitting the ground, moving as fast as he possibly can to catch you. his knees crash into the metal stairs painfully in his movements to catch you in his arms but it’s nothing compared to how it feels to have you crashing into his body, your belly pressed against his chest, your trembling hands reaching for him as soon as they can.
he’s shaking too, despite how steady he is with the pressure he uses to hold you in this awkwardly crouched stance. not enough to hurt you, never enough to hurt you, but there’s no way you’re slipping from his grasp either.
“i’ve got you,” his voice is deep, barely above a whisper and with a quiver of lingering fear that makes you burst into tears even though you try so hard to hold them back.
the worried look on his face hurts more than the brunt of the few steps your body took. it’s nothing more than a fading throb of pain compared to cords of your heart strings being pulled more than they could handle right now and it’s all your fault - if you’d just - 
“i’m sorry,” you sob out, letting go of him to cover your weeping eyes. you feel him shift, keeping you in his arms with one strong arm at your back, the other under your knees, while he stands straight and easily holds you there, safe but maybe not so sound when you can’t stop crying. 
“sweetheart,” you can still hear the shake of his voice through how he’s still trying to remain calm for both of you while soothing your tears when you can’t find an ounce of it in yourself. “need you to tell me you’re okay,” because if you don’t he’ll be running with you in his arms as fast as he can to sigewinne.
you nod your head, doing all you can to get the words out. “’m okay.” you mumble through your tears. your wet hands move to grip onto the lapel of his vest, holding him tighter than before and you bury yourself in the comfort of his chest, taking in the good breath you can and it's so full of wriothesley you can’t help but sink further into his hold. “.. i’m s-sorry.”
he lets out a breath of relief as he leans down to kiss your temple. his lips and minty breath are warm, a balm to your overwhelming emotions and with a gentle voice he soothes you further, walking up the steps leading to his office. “it’s okay baby.” 
keeping you in his arms, he settles on the couch, letting your weary legs spread out over the cushion so he has a free hand to move the hair from your face, his tender and patient touch coaxing you to look at him once you’re ready. your eyes are puffy but still so beautiful, your breath starting to slow and returning to nearly normal at the feeling of his touch traveling from your face to your stomach, a large palm spread over the perfect curve of your baby bump.
his steady promise only calms you further, “everythings okay. we’re all okay.”
neuvillette:
after your nap on one of the many couches in the iudex office, a nap you hadn’t really expected to take when you stopped by to see neuvillette, you were surprised to wake alone. your trek here must have been more tiring than you thought since when you fell asleep you were resting on his arm and apparently hadn’t woken up when he tucked you under a blanket and put a pillow under your head.
when these items first made it here it was because of how many nights he spent sleeping in his office for a few hours in the late night before getting back to work. those nights had since stopped, especially since you found out you were pregnant, and now the comfortable blanket and pillow were more your own, these days only being used to cover your growing belly and rest your head comfortably when you inevitably fall asleep here.
but usually your husband was within reach when you awoke.
using your hands to help push yourself off the couch, you waddle towards the doors of his office, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes, and the moment the large doors open, sedene is at your side with a wide smile and even bigger violet eyes. after rather excitedly asking if she can do anything for you, she lets you know neuvillette left her with a message that he would be just outside if you needed anything and with a thank you and a smile you head towards the doors of the palais mermonia.
it’s not that you needed anything from him per say, you felt okay and you know most things you could have asked sedene for. you also know how busy of a man he is so maybe you should have waited for him to come back inside but he had assured you, after one tearful night in the beginning of your pregnancy, that needing him was okay too. 
so you let your heart lead you to him, past the workers and visitors with only one thing on your mind; being in his arms even if it's only for a few more minutes before he has to get back to work and you take your own leave, having a few more errands to run before the day ends.
outside is warm under the bright sun, a cooling breeze keeping it from being too hot. it takes your eyes a few moments to adjust to the difference in light but you still spot the silhouette of neuvillette. many would agree he is easy to spot in a crowd but for you it was for far different reasons than just his height and his title and even now when all you could make out was the blue hue of his coat like a sparkling shell in the sand that is your blurry vision, you know it’s him and you can feel the movement of your baby at the emotions that stir within you as you take the steps towards him.
except two steps in, still trying to blink away the last of the dots of sunlight in your adjusting vision, there is no ground underneath your feet. you try to reach for the hand extended out to you though you don’t know whose it is but aren’t able to reach it in time before you begin to fall.
neuvillette doesn’t excuse himself from the conversation he had brought out here in order to allow you to sleep without disturbance before he’s moving quickly through the small crowd of people in order to get to you, his heart in his throat and even though he can move faster than most of those around him would be able to see, it doesn’t feel like fast enough when he watches you stumble.
it’s a split second, a blur of azure and white that hardly even moves the air in its wake, a blink of an eye and neuvillette has crossed the courtyard outside the palais mermonia and captured you in his arms before you can fall any further. 
you can feel and hear a thundering heart beat but between the two of you, with how close you are to neuvillette, you don’t know if it’s yours or his. behind his shoulder you can see the once bright blue sky is now covered by gray clouds and when your eyes focus on the face of the beautiful man holding you, you can see why it’s suddenly turned so dark, that the storm behind his worried eyes mirrors the one that brews in the sky.
it makes you want to cry way more than the pain of your fall and before you’ve even realized it, you break out in a full blown sob, hiding your face in his chest. you can feel the world around you move, it’s like you're nearly weightless, floating through the air like you aren’t incredibly pregnant but you don’t care to pull away from your place against your beloved to look around you and before you know it, you’re being gently placed back on the couch you had been asleep on just a bit ago.
neuvillette settles on his knees in front of you and you bring your hands up to face to wipe your tears but they fall to the top of your belly instead when long slender fingers beat you to it, their gentleness and warmth on your cheek beyond comforting. you don’t even know when he had time to take his gloves off but his skin on yours is exactly what your startled heart needed to settle. 
and though it is helping his own to see you calming down and feel you leaning into his touch, neuvillette has hardly been able to take a breath. it felt like it was taking all of his strength just to keep his hands steady. lavender petalled eyes shining with ethereal blue haven’t been able to tear from you and take in every inch of your skin, the curve of your baby bump that you hold in your arms, the small scrape on your hands where you tried to catch yourself that hadn’t broken your skin, your wobbly lip as you take in a deep breath, and the wet lashes that kiss his skin with every tear he wipes away.
“i’m sorry..” you break the worried silence between you when his eyes meet yours. “i just..”
his thumbs caress along your cheeks in a slow back and forth motion and though he’s steadying with every passing moment, there’s a tremble to his voice that’s laced with relief and lingering worry. “you have no reason to be sorry, my dear. the most important thing is that you are okay.”
nodding your head, your hand with the small scrape comes up to cradle one of his and your fingers wrap around his palm, needing no strength at all to bring it down to your belly. his long fingers splay over your bump, taking in the feeling of you under his palms as your face leans into his other hand.  “we’re both okay,” you assure him with a heartfelt smile and see the room behind him brighten in the unimpeded sunlight once more.
zhongli:
liyue was always so lovely this time of night, quiet but still with cheerful life, the lantern light shining through the streets in a warm yellow hue and even the sea seemed to settle in the moons presence with gentle crashes of waves along the harbor. you waddle along the path leading to the main entrance of the harbor from the inner city, yes waddling because you don’t know how else to describe the way your very pregnant body moves with each step. 
you can’t wait to show the baby in your belly this beautiful city, their home that was built by the hands of their father and kept by the people he entrusted with it now that his life is full of another kind of duty, dedicated to you and your growing family. and you know zhongli is just as ecstatic, already telling your baby of this world in the night when he kisses your round stomach and thanks you for giving him such a gift; your shared love and what wonderful miracles came with it.
if you could, you’d hasten your step to try to meet zhongli sooner. with him being at work all day, you were more than anxious to see him. now more than ever you had been partially needy for him, much to his pleasure because he couldn’t deny the more.. dragon-like tendencies your pregnancy had brought out in him. 
today was a rare one when he wasn’t able to make it home for lunch and had to work later than usual but you knew you could find him at the harbor when his office turned up empty in your impatience to be with him. you just hoped you wouldn’t be interrupting his work when you did find him.
doctor baizhu had expressed the importance of taking walks in your pregnancy but the further along you got, the more tiring that had became and today you think you’re finding your current limit. which looks to be a little more than halfway down the steps to the harbor with no railing to lean on. holding your belly with one hand, you take it one step at a time, both feet to a step before taking the next, every inhale deep and trying to keep you steady, calm.
you’re nearly to the bottom when you spot your husband's tall figure standing out amongst the people scattered around the harbor. for as human as he made this form, he stood out to you as the most beautiful among them, ethereal in a way that reminds you he is the lord of geo but more importantly nowadays, yours.
not wanting him to worry because all you really needed was a moment, you try to cover up your aching exhaustion with a smile and a wave when you feel his eyes on you and watch him turn towards you but in your fatigue and maybe even distraction of finally seeing him, you miss calculate your step and before you can try to think of what to do aside from protecting your belly, you feel the world tip in your descent down the steps.
he felt your presence, like the most precious of stones that hummed with the same beat of his heart, that had been searching for him, and as soon as you were within vision, his golden eyes were on you but he had hardly gotten a chance to take a step in your direction when you misstepped and the world slows as you fall.
the wood of the harbor groans at the sudden change in the earth below the water that shakes in a strained cry and the change of pressure in the air feels like celestia was trying to freeze time, stop anything from moving until zhongli commanded it to restart.
time didn’t stop but in a blink zhongli is kneeling on the steps with you in his arms, concrete digging into his mortal flesh but he doesn't feel it over what's coursing through his body. it wasn’t going to fix or do anything in this situation but a golden shield floats all around, blocking out the rest of the world, the eyes you know are on you but there’s only one pair you can focus on. 
zhonglis pupils are thin slits that you swear are trembling, the honey flecks of his eyes glowing with godly power that steals the air from your lungs. its as if he’s trying to look through your very being to be sure you’re okay but not having ability to see past the tears in your eyes and how tightly you hold onto your stomach. you’re shaking, or he is. you really can’t tell which, maybe it was the entirety of liyue but there’s nothing you can see or hear of the world outside the shield he has around you and the rapid heartbeats you share as one.
you’re definitely shaking. you can see it in your fingers that reach for his face, soothing over his cheek as you try to push past the sob you want to break out into and find your words. you needed to calm him down before this became more of a scene, before he really did bring down harbor.
“i’m not hurt,” there is only a dull ache where your body hit the steps but you were able to keep it all away from the baby. shaking up though- yes, far more than you want to admit. you have hardly ever seen him like this but you can feel that both you and your baby are unharmed physically and once zhongli called down, so could you. “i’m okay,” you tell him and you mean it despite the fact you can feel the tears escaping your eyes without your consent. it's happened far too many times to count during your pregnancy but right now you really need it to stop. “i’m okay zhongli,” you urge.
the pain behind his eyes seems to soften, as though he might share in your tears too but the tremble around you begins to feel like it belongs to only the two of you once more. good, he’s calming down.
you aren’t sure why that makes you lose your composure even more though. perhaps now that you knew he would be okay, you could finally let go of everything you held back. or now that everything was coming back to normal, you realize the scene you’ve made all over your own mistake. whatever it was, it felt like a flood overwhelming your every emotion.
biting your bottom lip, you try to stop it’s tremble as you cling onto your husband. you can’t be bothered with how pitiful you sound right now. “please take me home..”
without a word, in a whirl of golden smoke and a matter of moments, you’re in your bedroom, the familiar scent of your home filling your nose and helping to calm your uneasy breaths. his strides are steady and long as he makes his way to the bed, sitting on the edge with you cradled in his lap, crying into his shoulder.
“my lily,” his voice quivers but he holds you with strength and love and tenderness. “please take a breath.” a large hand smooths down your back, feeling you hiccup as you try to follow his own breaths. resting a palm on your belly, splaying long golden fingers over your bump, you feel the comfortable, anchoring weight of his forehead on yours. “i’ve got you.”
♡♡♡♡♡
genshin impact masterlist | main masterlist
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alesbianperson · 2 months
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football player!ellie williams x fem!reader
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summary: At the football play you visited to support your best friend, something happens that you didn't expect.
warnings: smoking (weed); slightly implied loser Ellie at the end; swear words; girls kissing (what a surprise); my writing idk
authors note: so firstly I mean football as soccer and not american football, but its not important to the plot so it can be interpreted as either; secondly, sorry for being so inactive I actually needed fucking half a year just for this its actually embarressing, I'm really slow at writing I don't know why, but I'm trying to be more active. I also didnt proofread so sorry for grammar mistakes or something anyway I hope you enjoy this!!
ALSO BIG DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT SUPPORT NEIL DRUCKMANN AND THE FACT THAT HE SUPPORTS ISRAEL!! If you don't know whats going on in Palestine, please go educate yourself because its highly important.
Here are a few links, so nobody can say it's too complicated or annoying to search for information (besides its really fucking heartless, cruel and totally not human to say "I dont wanna put effort in researching" while people are literally suffering and dying because of a genocide):
General information/updates
Brands to boycott
How you can help Palestine
Palestine masterposts: 1 2
--☆--
This evening was the final football game of the season. Everyone was so excited, and your best friend played in the school team, so of course, you came to this game to support her. You already arrived a bit late because you took a nap and didn't hear the alarm, so you quickly searched for your friends who were already sat and luckily saved you a seat. When they saw you coming in, they waved you over to them.
"What took you so long? The game has already started!" One of them said before switching their attention back to the field. "Sorry, I overslept." You explained yourself sitting down on your seat. "You didn't miss much, just a foul from the other team. They're so annoying and clearly playing anything but fair." Another one of your friends said, rolling her eyes while offering you a bag of chips. You declined and began searching for your best friend between all the other players, running on the field. Not even five seconds later, you found her. With the ball in front of her, she ran towards the goal. You joined the cheers of everyone from your school, sure that this was going to be such a great goal until:
A girl from the other team came out of nowhere, running towards her, tackling her to the ground. You gasped. "That was another foul!" One of your friends exclaimed, standing up to better see what the referee would say. But instead of also looking at the referee, your gaze still hasn't left the girl, responsible for the foul.
She looked pleased with herself. What an asshole! You thought to yourself, but couldn't deny that the way her eyes sparkled in the light and her auburn hair moved in the wind was mesmerising. Too distracted by her features, you realised a bit late that she was eyeing you too. A smirk on her lips, she winked at you before walking off the field, your eyes still on her.
"Too bad that bitch just got a yellow card. She deserved more, right?" Your friends, already discussing the decision of the referee, were turning to you since you were the only one who didn't comment on it. Heat rushed into your cheeks as you realised you hadn't listened the whole time, busy gushing over that girl. "Yeah.. definitely more." Was all you said to not keep the attention on you.
"Guys," you added after a short pause, "I'm gonna go to the bathroom real quick. I'll be back."
"Sure."
"But hurry, they're already playing again."
You just slightly nodded before walking off to search for the bathrooms. To your luck, they weren't far away from your seats, so it didn't take too long to find them. As you closed the door behind you, a strong smell of weed filled your lungs. Holding a hand in front of your mouth, you coughed reflexively.
"Having trouble breathin', princess?"
You turned around to see the girl who fouled your best friend sitting on the sink, her legs slightly swinging forwards and back. She still wore her tricot but now had a grey, dirty, worn-out jacket over it. The half up half down bun she had was messed up, probably because of the constant running on the field, and between two of her fingers, she held an already half smoked joint.
Her smile rose as she noticed your gaze lingering on her again. "Y'want a photo? It'll last longer." She chuckled, finding this old ass joke very funny. You rolled your eyes at her words but couldn't help the smile, forming on your lips. "What are you doing here anyway, don't you have to play?" She blew out the smoke she held in her mouth before answering your question. "My coach replaced me. Said I needed a break before playing again." You just nodded because you didn't know how to keep the conversation going. For a few seconds, you both just looked at each other in silence. After taking another drag from the joint, she leaned forward, offering you to do the same.
"No, thanks. I don't smoke."
"Thought so." She chuckled. After a short pause, she added: "Not in a rude way, of course. Y'just don't look like you'd do drugs." Even though you knew it was childish and totally stupid, you now wanted to prove to her that you were indeed someone who could take drugs. So you took the joint out of her hand, carefully brought it to your lips, and inhaled.
You probably shouldn't have inhaled this deep because now you were coughing like someone poured tons of sand down your throat. It surely felt like it. When you calmed down a bit, you looked up again, handing the joint back to the girl on the sink, who was clearly amused. "What a brave girl." She said with a shit eating grin on her face. "Come here, I'll show you how it's done right."
She gestured between her spread legs. As you moved towards her, she leaned in, reducing the space between the two of you. "Open your mouth." She then proceeded to take a drag from the joint. As she moved closer, your breath hitched. Your eyes wandered from her gorgeous green ones down to her lips, and heat rose in your cheeks again. Without breaking eye contact, she blew the smoke she had in her mouth into yours. Reflexively, you closed it.
"Now hold it in."
And that's what you did. The smoke filled your lungs, this time a lot less painful than your first drag. After a few seconds, you exhaled slowly, a small smile of pride on your face.
Your faces were still very close, and silence fell upon the both of you again. The tension thickend. Her emerald green eyes stared directly into yours, abruptly blinking down to your lips. "Can I kiss you?" Your voice was nothing more than a whisper, fading into thin air. A smirk grew once again on her lips before nodding and then proceeding to lean in and closing the gap between the two of you.
Once her lips were on yours, she cupped your cheek, her fingertips brushing slightly over it. You felt like your heart was going to jump out of your chest. Her lips were so soft. You couldn't really describe the feeling, but it felt good. Like you were on cloud nine. You quickly synced with the rhythm she set, leaning forward so that her back met the wall behind her.
Your hands wandered behind her neck, beginning to tug on her hair slightly. A soft groan escaped her lips at the sudden impact, which sounded like music to your ears.
A smile formed on your lips once she broke the kiss to catch her breath. "What're you smiling at?" She looked at you irritated, which just caused you to chuckle.
"I don't know. You're.. pretty."
Silence followed after that.
"Pretty enough to get your number?"
Ellie wanted to bash her head against the wall at her cringe comment. She thought she'd definitely crossed the line now. But you just began laughing, quickly covering your mouth with your hand to muffle the sound.
"Sorry. Don't get me wrong I-", you interrupted yourself by holding up your finger to signal her to wait and began searching for your phone in your purse. Fuck. You thought as you realised you left it in your jacket with your friends and hurriedly searched around for something to write on. Ellie just watched you amused, catching on to your plan. She snatched a pepertowel out of the spender and offered it to you. You just gave her an awkward smile, fishing a half empty kajal out of your purse and scribbled your phone number on it.
As you handed it to her, she took it with the same smirk she had in the beginning. "As sad as it is, I think I have to go back on the field. My coach probably misses me by now." She added hesitantly while sliding off the sink and walking towards the door. "Cool meeting you, though." The click of the closing door was the last thing you heard before you were completely alone in the bathroom.
With the paper towel still in her hand, Ellie made her way over to the rest of her team, almost jumping with joy and thanking every mighty power for letting her survive the whole conversation without completely losing her mind or embarrassing herself. She'd definitely save your number as soon as she could. Actually contacting you was a whole other story.
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safetypinxtales · 4 months
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400 years | Azriel
summary: drinking with your best friend takes a turn when you happen upon some of Feyre's art supplies.
words: 3.2k
warnings: steamy 18+ mdni, nudity, sex is insinuated but not described, kissing, alcohol consumption (drink responsibly), reader and azriel are drunk, making out, big dick azriel, fluff, no use of y/n, neutrally described reader/no reader description
notes: happy valentines day, here's some azriel for youuu🤍 I got the inspiration for this whilst reading this fic by @solbaby7 bc who wouldn't want to draw az like one of your French girls?? Frankly there is nothing I would like to do more. Their fic is amazing and you guys should totally check it out if you haven't already! Anyways, I'm sorry for the "shut the door" type ending, but I cannot write smut to save my life so this will have to do. Hope you enjoy!🤍
masterlist
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Thud.
The sound of Azriel accidentally smacking his head on the wall as he plopped down on the sofa across from you echoed within the walls of the cabin, and you couldn’t help the laughter that bubbled out of you. Azriel’s own shaking shoulders and scrunched up nose let you know that he couldn’t help it either. 
But that was to be expected wasn’t it? The past hour had been filled with nothing but bubbling laughter from the both of you, giggles from Az, and some very graceful snorts… also definitely from Azriel. 
The reason why he had brought you to Rhys’ cabin in the mountains was long forgotten after the two nearly empty bottles of alcohol on the table in front of you. The heartache of getting stood up on your date earlier that evening buried under a considerable amount of drinks. 
“As long as the glass is never empty in between refills, they don’t count.”
Azriel’s words from earlier came back to you, only fuelling your cramp inducing giggles. 
That had always been your motto in times like these. A consistency that had lasted centuries. 
“I can’t breathe,” you wheezed out in between fits of hysteria, your arms coming up to wrap around yourself. But your laughter didn’t die down, and neither did Azriel’s. Your uttered words only seemed to fire him on as he tipped over on his side, hand landing a slap on the armrest.
Seeing him like this, so free and relaxed, was rare. You could probably count each separate occasion on your hands. He only really let go like this when you needed it. When the urge to drink your walls down and flush the pain away seemed like the only remedy to whatever situation you were dealing with.
It was a very rare occurrence indeed. But one of your favourites. 
Azriel’s carefree giggles, that luminous light in his eyes; you swore it could make budding flowers bloom.
You sat up straight, and the situation stopped feeling so funny as you laid eyes on Azriel’s still laughing frame. The uncontrolled giggles, and the way his wings shook in time with his chest. It was enchanting, the sight of your best friend being so relaxed, so happy. 
The shadows that were usually crowding his frame were nowhere to be seen – with the exception of the lone swirl of darkness slowly snaking its way around your wrist, coming down to entwine with your fingers every now and again.
It took a couple more minutes until Azriel’s laughter had finally seized. You both sat on separate sofas, smiles stretched wide and eyes glazed over from the alcohol you had ingested, and as your breathing started to return to normal a thought struck.
“What?” Azirel asked as he leaned forward on his elbows, a curious glint in his eyes. 
“What?” You prodded back, more confused than curious, blinking a few times to try and rid the alcohol-induced veil that surrounded you. What was he on about? 
“Well,” he waved one floppy hand in your direction, “you just perked up, it was like you grew ten inches,” he exclaimed, before continuing in a slightly lowered, bemused voice, ”and that means you just had one of your ideas.”
The corners of your mouth quirked upwards as you slowly nodded your head. He was right – you had come up with an idea.
“Well, I was just thinking about how Feyre mentioned after the last time she was here,” you stood up from your seat, swaying slightly but quickly finding your balance, doing your very best to not bump into the table separating you. “Something about forgotten art supplies.”
Like a predator sighting a prey, Azriel’s interest piqued in a moment. His razor sharp focus was on your every step as you walked towards the supply closet at the other side of the room. 
The closet was unusually dusty, a strange thing for being Rhysand’s property. He was usually very meticulous when it came to things always being spotless and presentable. But you supposed that a small, rarely used supply closet in the family cabin wasn’t a priority of his. Keeping it clean was not a good enough use of his magic. 
Luckily for you, that just made your quest easier. You just had to look for whatever was covered in the least amount of dust bunnies.
“Aha!” You whipped around to face your friend, triumphantly displaying the sketch pad and charcoals in your hands. 
Azriel’s eyebrows shot up at your revelation, grin still present on his beautiful face.
“That’s your big idea? Drawing?”
“You should know I used to be quite the whiz with the charcoals when I was younger,” you rebutted and Azriel’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly. 
“I have seen your penmanship, so I will believe this talent of yours when I see it,” he muttered and you couldn’t help but gasp at the sheer audacity in his words. Your penmanship was not that bad.
Taking a few steps back in his direction with a huff, you flipped through the sketch pad in search of an unused sheet of parchment. You were gonna show him, alright…
You couldn’t help but admire Feyre’s old sketches as you went through the pages. Some you recognised as early-version sketches of paintings you had seen around the river house, and some were–
“Oh!” Your fingers froze as your eyes landed on what seemed to be an anatomical study. A very detailed, very beautiful, anatomical study of – oh my Gods. You felt your cheeks heat up. 
“Is that Rhysand?!”
At the screech in your voice and the mention of his brother’s name, Azriel shot up off the sofa to get a peek at whatever had managed to pull such a reaction from you. 
The warmth of his body radiated into your side as he peered over your shoulder at the drawing of the very naked high lord. 
You noticed him stiffening out of the corner of your eyes and then, like a tether snapping, laughter started to boom inside the walls of the cabin. With a steadying hand on your shoulder he doubled over in giggles so contagious it didn’t take long before you joined in with his hysterics. 
“No way,” he wheezed, “oh Gods – I can’t wait to tell Cassian!” 
The mere thought of how Cassian would react to such a revelation, the look on his face, had you clutching your stomach. Poor Rhys would never hear the end of it.
And by the cauldron, if you don’t wake up with rippling abs tomorrow from the amount of laughter this night had brought….
“You can’t blame her though,” you mused once you managed to get your giggles under control, “I mean, nice job Feyre.” A low whistle left you as you peered down at your clearly blessed high lord.
The laughter quieted down beside you and you raised your gaze to look at Azriel, only to be met with an incredulous look. 
“What, I’m just calling it as I see it!” You exclaimed and raised your hands in defence, charcoals and disrobed Rhysand still in your grasp.
His eyes flicked down to the sketch pad, before slowly coming back up to meet yours, that look never leaving his face.
“Oh, please.” 
The words fell from his lips with such cool confidence your smile faltered momentarily, eyebrows knotting together.
“You can’t be serious?” He asked, and when you stayed quiet he continued, “that’s nothing.”
Nothing?
From where you were standing, respectfully, it looked like everything.
“What? Like you can do better?” 
Your challenge seemed to light a spark in his eyes and time slowed as he took a step backwards, fingers coming down to grip the hem of his t-shirt.
One swift movement and his shirt was off, muscles rippling under his bronzed skin as he tossed the dark fabric on the floor, his eyes not once straying from yours. 
He kept backing up, step after torturous step, until his legs hit the sofa. The corners of his mouth tugged up in a smirk as he plopped down, arms behind his head, far leg propped up, large wings casually draped over the armrest.
“Draw me then, whiz,” he challenged, using your word from earlier, “let me be your muse.” 
The heat crawling up your neck, scorching the tips of your ears, were not solely from the liquor as you padded over to the opposite sofa. 
No, it was from something very different. Something strikingly sobering, yet oh-so intoxicating. 
You sat down and carefully placed the pad in your lap, flipping through it until you reached a blank page. You moved some hair out of your eyes and tucked it behind your ear, picked up a charcoal and brought it to the parchment – when you felt yourself hesitate. You took your lip between your teeth as you contemplated your next move. The risk. The absurdity. The excitement. 
He was your friend. Your best friend, and yet…
You lifted your gaze to find Azriel’s eyes locked to yours with such focus, such challenge. Like he was sizing up an opponent on the battlefield. 
His eyes flicked down to your hand, if only for a split second, as you gently put down the charcoal. He cocked an eyebrow when his gaze once again found yours. 
“I just,” you took a deep breath, “I just don’t think it’s really fair on Rhys, you know?” The shadow around your wrist flickered, as if sensing what you were about to do. The lines you were about to cross.
You watched as Azriel’s eyebrows drew together, and you fought the twitching of your lips as you continued, “I mean, you are still half clothed.”
With a slight shrug of your shoulders, you watched as your words sank in. How his eyes seemed to darken, the corner of his mouth raised in the smallest of smirks. 
“Is that so?” He mused, and you tried your best to level his stare. To not back down. Not shy away. 
With an incline of your head, you nodded. And watched his hand inch closer to his pants. Down past that dark trail of hair, to the laces tied together at the waistband. Watched as he grabbed a hold of the string… and pulled. 
You couldn’t breathe. Couldn’t focus on anything other than his hand. How his fingers untied the font of his pants so slowly, so delicately it felt like torture. You were transfixed by his fingers. Loosening the laces, his thumb slipping beneath the waistband…
You snapped your gaze up to his face, to find him still looking at you – studying you. 
Your breath hitched in your throat at the sound of his pants hitting the floor. With your eyes still locked to his, your heartbeat pounding in your ears, you wondered what you had gotten yourself into. Here you were, in front of your fully naked best friend – about to draw him. 
Let me be your muse.
His words from earlier echoed in your mind as you tore your gaze from his face and dragged it lower, and lower, until…
Your head emptied. Your tongue felt about as dry as the beaches you had visited in Summer last year. Because the sight that beheld you was breath-taking. 
The length between his legs, standing aroused and proud, really did make Rhysand’s portrait look like nothing. 
A part of you had almost hoped that Azriel’s confidence had just been for show. That it was just his competitiveness shining through, a feat to best his brother. 
The reality?
Monstruos would have been a fitting word had the sight not compelled you so. Had it not caused you to burn for him. Crave him. 
Delicious seemed to be a better word to describe your friend. Beautiful. Mouth-watering. A thing of art.
Which is why you picked up your discarded charcoal and put it to the parchment. 
You studied the planes of his body, the hard lines, the soft skin. The muscles that could have been carved by the Mother herself. You avoided looking at his face though, instead focusing on the various scars that marred his skin, telling stories of battles and fights. Of brawls with his brothers. 
You felt him looking at you, however. He hadn’t stopped looking at you. Not since the sketch pad came into play.
It made it annoyingly hard to focus. 
The scratching sound of charcoal on paper stopped. 
“How long have we known each other?” Your voice wavered, mouth dry. You cleared your throat and raised your gaze to finally meet his. 
Azriel tipped his head to the side, contemplating, “about 400 years.”
400 years. And never before had you seen him naked. Not like this. Not splayed out like a feast, waiting to be devoured. Not with his gaze so burning you were afraid it was going to singe your clothes to ashes. 
“Right,” you mumbled, eyes flicking back down to your hands. They were smudged with soot, your thumb and index finger blackened, that lone shadow still curiously snaking around your wrist. 
That is a very long time.
Azriel seemed to notice how the little confidence you had faltered, for he straightened somewhat from his leisurely sprawl. 
“You okay?” There was only soft concern enveloping his words, a drastic change from the tension flooding the space between you just seconds before. 
It was a very long time, indeed. So why didn’t this feel wrong? 
You let out a deep breath, “yes, I think so.” 
Your answer apparently didn’t settle his worries though, because he raised from the sofa and rounded the table between you. 
You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him as he stopped in front of where you sat. 
Only when he lowered his hand – fingers coming to rest under your chin, tipping you face up – did you meet his eye. 
The heartbreaking concern written all over his face seized your heart. The soft furrow of his brow. The slight dip at the corners of his pouty lips. The brutal softness swimming in those hazel eyes. 
It took your breath away.
“Are you sure?” He questioned, voice barely above a whisper.
You didn’t trust your voice, not with the vulnerable proximity between you. All you managed was a meager nod. A small up and down bob of your head. 
His fingers tugged on your chin, and as if in a trance, you followed the wordless command and rose to your feet. 
“I need you to use your words here, sweetheart,” his voice was soft, but the underlying command was undeniable, “please.”
Your heart was pounding in your chest as you swallowed and managed to breathe out “I’m okay.” 
That seemed enough to ease Azriel’s concern, a breath of relief fanning across your face. 
“Good,” he murmured, almost as if more to himself.
His eyes left yours, and flicked down. To your mouth, you realised, as his thumb moved from your chin up to graze your bottom lip.
That intensity was back in his gaze, that predatory focus – all directed at you. His thumb pulled at your lip before letting go, and the shudder that overtook your body could have made the earth shake.
There couldn’t be more than a foot of space between you. 
So dangerously close.
He was your friend. 
Right? 
“400 years,” you whispered, eyes flicking down to follow the bob of his throat as he swallowed. “400 years of friendship.” 
You felt light headed. 400 years, and all could be thrown away as easy as breathing. All you had to do was take half a step.
“Three,” Azriel’s voice grumbled above you as your eyes trailed down to inspect the shallow rise and fall of his chest.
“Hmm?” Your mumble was absent minded, your thoughts being too preoccupied by the male in front of you. What he would feel like. Taste like. The sounds he would make if you dipped your head and licked up the drops of sweat beading at the center of his chest.
“That’s how long I’ve loved you. Three hundred years.”
You froze. 
The thickness coating Azriel’s voice was not something you were familiar with. Nor were the words he uttered.
Your gaze snapped up to his, scanning his features for any sign that he was, for some reason, making the cruellest joke in all of Pythian’s history. But all you found was open, unguarded truth. 
Azriel loved you?
Azriel loved you. 
The rapid beating of your heart was a stark contrast to just how very safe you felt. How right it seemed to take that half step forward. To cradle his face in your hand, the other coming to rest on that glorious chest – right over his own heart. And as you felt that wild drumming beneath his ribs echo your own, nothing seemed as easy as rising up on the tips of your toes and slotting your mouth against his. 
The kiss was tentative, like the two of you were just dipping your toes in – testing the waters. You moved your lips against his, gently, savouring the feel of his pillowy lips. The feel of his body so close to yours. How the scent of him seemed to envelop you. You savoured how easily he took all of your senses hostage. 
He was everywhere.
The sound of Azriel’s wings rustling behind him, the rapid beating of his heart in his chest, the taste of liquor on his lips – it intoxicated you in a way you didn’t know was possible. 
You stayed like that, gently exploring each other's lips, savouring each other's closeness, until you had no other choice but to break away for air. 
You pulled away only a few inches, rapid breaths fanning your faces. The pounding of your heart didn’t seize, and neither did his. You could feel every rapid beat under the hand still planted on his warm chest. 
“Your heart is beating very fast,” you whispered, voice shaky from your breathlessness. 
He swallowed, “It is.”
“So is mine,” you revealed. 
“Yes, I can hear it.”
Oh. 
“Will you kiss me again?” Your voice was so low, you wouldn’t have known he heard you if not for the strangled sound he let out. 
Or for how he grabbed you by your waist and captured your lips with his. 
This time the kiss was less gentle. This time he pressed your body against his as he devoured you. It was all tongues, and teeth, and needy gasps.
His teeth pulled on your bottom lip and you thanked the Mother he was holding you so tightly, for your knees almost gave out. A throaty groan escaped you as his hand cupped the back of your neck, angling your head upwards and deepening the kiss further.
Your own hands found his hair – and pulled. The deep rumbling in his chest and the way he moaned your name into the kiss was your undoing.
This kiss wasn’t gentle. It wasn’t tentative.
It was claiming.
And so you let him claim you. 
Your clothes were quickly discarded as you laid down on the sofa, Azriel’s body on top of yours. And as you crashed together, entangled limbs and sworn promises, you let those 400 years of friendship, of tension, of longing dictate the start of this new chapter.
A chapter of what would hopefully be 400 years of something more.
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tags: @missus-shadowsinger
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idanceuntilidie · 6 months
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Hii! Can i request yan cheater with male reader? I really like your writing, and I also love you sm! Have a nice day 💗💗💗💗
Thank you so much I'm gonna cry, I love you too!! Sorry if this is wonky, today was a very exhausting day for me mentally. I hope you enjoy anyway <3 come again :D i made the cheater male I hope you don't mind--
Yandere Cheater x M!Reader
Requests are open
TW: yandere behaviours, breaking and enetering, slightly digusting parts including human hair and organs.
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Ciaran was quite special. Very handsome, always surrounded by people. You aren’t sure if being with him was a blessing or a curse.
He swore he was yours only, but you can’t help but feel hurt when he is flirting with someone right in front of you. There are also times where his phone blows with notifications from different people. It hurt, your heart felt like it was shattering just to be put back and destroyed again.
But the last straw was when you got a message from one of his lovers, they got a moment ofweakness, they felt bad and spilled everything out in a long message. The cherry on top were screenshots and photos of them kissing each other.
You were sure this time your heart just ceases to exist. You cried a lot that day, not ready to face Ciaran. You packed his things and left them outside of the door.
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It baffled him how you would leave him just like that, it was just a small misunderstanding. It was, he thinks, just one time thing. You got just oh so boring he couldn’t take it anymore. He still loves you! He really does.
He missed your smile, your smell, how beautiful you looked in the rising sun when you just woke up. His heart squeezes in his chest. Another night spent waiting by your door, you won’t let him in of course, but he just likes to sit there, happily humming when he sees you through your windows. It became a routine, you never called the cops on him, which means you still must like him. Hope burned in his chest, and slowly the obsession for you began.
And he will get his little boyfriend back. You don’t feel safe in your house anymore, Ciarian gave up on sitting outside of your house yes, but now you can’t stop receiving messages and calls from random numbers.
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Sometimes the caller breathes, silently stuttering your name, sometimes even moaning. Calling you his little pretty boy and shit. It made your stomach twist. You called the police many times, but at this point they just don’t believe you because of your lack of evidence. Lazy bastards. You also began receiving gifts, your favorite food, drinks, clothes that fit you perfectly. There was well, one time where your friend was over and one of these gifts appeared, with a card attached to it. A box of chocolates.
You were very tired that day, barely keeping yourself awake, you told your friend to take it. They accepted gladly, and began to eat while you went to the kitchen to make some coffee for you and them, that's when you heard a shriek and gagging sounds. You ran to your friend and saw them pulling hair out of their mouth, there was some skin attached to it. Your friend threw up soon after.
So, after that incident their gifts landed in trash. You feared what you might find out in them next. You don’t feel safe here, but you don’t have enough money to move. So like a rational person, you took another shift. The less you are home the better. It turns out you were wrong.
You came back in the middle of the night, you were practically falling asleep while standing up. You took off your shoes and headed to the kitchen for a sip of water so you can head to bed. When you turned on the light you froze in place. A beautifully wrapped heart shaped box sat on the counter waiting. You swallowed, body moving on your own. The gifts never appeared inside of your house. Hell, they are getting bolder with each gift. As you got closer to the box, a foul smell filled your senses. It was sweet, a little fruity.  Your shaking hands hovered over the opening of the box, carefully lifting up the lid.
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Your scream echoed through the house, as you fell down to the floor. Inside of the box was a human heart, carefully placed and surrounded by your favourite flowers.
You felt a hand on your shoulder, and a warm breath on your cheek.
Ciaran.
Your breath hitched, you didn’t dare to move as his bloody hands wrapped around your shaking form.
“Did you like my gift? Only the best for my boyfriend, do you forgive me now? Look how much I have done for you.” He kissed your cheek.
“I forgive you for kicking me out, I’m a better man after all of this has ended you know? Now we can be together forever.”
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youunravelme · 9 months
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this is how you fall in love
author's note: let it be known, i've never been to jfk airport, and it probably shows. sue me. also sorry this took SO FUCKING LONG to write. it lowkey put me in a writing slump because it's just a monster but i hope you can forgive me. this fic is literally 18,952 words long, so i apologize in advance.
pairing: mat barzal x reader
summary: when confronted with the idea of going home without a date, you lie and say you have a boyfriend. which would be fine, except you haven't dated anyone seriously in a year. so instead of facing the ridicule of your family, you ask mat.
warnings: cursing (this is a given at this point), mean girl behavior?
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you weren't quite sure why you said it.
actually.
scratch that.
you were 1000 percent sure why you said it.
you could not, would not be the family embarrassment yet again.
if you got one more wedding invitation in the mail, you were going to scream. you were happy for all your college friends, really, you were, but it was the presence of this one particular wedding invitation from your cousin angela that had you seething.
mainly because it was accompanied by a phone call from your mother.
"i told angela that she didn't need to put a plus one down for you, but she insisted. so don't feel bad if you don't have someone, sweetheart. plenty of people are still single at your age."
maybe it was the irritation at your mother's condescension, or the exhaustion from being the butt of every family joke for the past five years, that had you saying something you wish you could take back.
"i do have someone, mom!"
her scoff resonated through the speaker. "honey, you don't have to lie--"
"i'm not lying! it's mat!"
the pause that followed your white lie was louder than the new york city streets just outside your apartment.
"your friend, mat? you told me you'd never see him that way!" she accused.
you shrugged, despite her not seeing you. and thank goodness for that, she'd immediately know you were lying if she could see your face. "something just clicked."
"how long has this been going on?"
"a few months."
"and you never told us?"
"we wanted to keep it lowkey until we knew this was something real."
your mom hummed but seemed appeased. "well, i can't wait to meet him. you are coming down a week early, right?"
in hindsight, you should've told mat immediately instead of postponing it until two weeks before you had to leave. but he was out of town for games, then you had a work trip, and then time slipped away from you.
but there was nothing you and a tub of bubblegum ice cream couldn't accomplish together.
at least in matters of mathew barzal.
he answered the door a few seconds after you knocked. a smile overtook his face until his eyes dropped down to the ice cream in your hands.
"what do you need?" he asked with a quirked brow.
"who says i need something?" you blinked in what you hoped was an innocent manner.
mat sighed and opened the door wide enough for you to come in. "because you have ice cream, and you showed up at my door unannounced." but he took the ice cream from your hands anyway. "how'd you even know i was home?"
you shrugged and plopped onto his couch. "i checked your location."
mat blinked. "you have my location? since when?"
you rolled your eyes. "you make me sound like a stalker, you made me share my location with you when i was out drinking with my coworkers and i demanded to have yours as well."
you didn't get to see mat's face because he was walking into his kitchen to put the ice cream away.
"so why are you here?" he asked once he returned.
"can't i just come over and visit my best friend?"
mat blinked. "no. you want something. what is it?"
you threw yourself back into the couch cushions and groaned, tossing an arm over your eyes. "you're not allowed to judge me."
"well that doesn't sound fun."
"mat, i'm serious, okay? i got myself into some shit and you're the only one i trust to help me out."
you felt the couch cushions sink next to you. a hand removed your arm from your face. "are you safe?" he asked. "are you in trouble? do we need to get the police involved?"
you looked at the concern on his face and sat up immediately. "no! no no no no no! it's not like that, i just happened to lie to my mom and need your help."
"why would you need my help to lie to your mom? you're not making any sense."
you took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut. "i told my mom we were dating so i had someone to bring to my cousin's wedding."
a pause, followed by mat's obnoxious laughter.
"you told your mom we're dating?" he choked out between cackles. "how did you manage not to vomit after saying that?"
you rolled your eyes at his barbs. "you were the first person to come to mind! what else should i have done?"
"jeez i don't know, told the truth?"
you flopped back onto the couch again. "no, mat, you don't understand. you didn't hear how she was talking to me! 'plenty of people are still single at your age!' i mean the gall of that woman!"
mat laughed again. "'gall?'"
"yes, mat, some of us use words bigger than a fifth grader's vocabulary."
"careful, that's no way to talk to your boyfriend, now is it?"
you scoffed. "boyfriend? are you--" then it hit you. "you'll do it? you'll be the fake love of my life?" you jumped off the couch.
mat smiled and leaned back into the cushions. "ask nicely."
you rolled your eyes but a smile was already pulling at your lips. "mathew michael paul barzal, will you please be my boyfriend?"
he crossed his hands behind his head and smirked. "calm down, you don't have to beg."
"i would throw something at you, but you're already doing me such a huge favor."
"you owe me one," he smirked.
oh, you'd owe him big.
one week till going home
"okay, so how did we meet?" you and mat were seated at a booth in a coffee shop the both of you liked to frequent.
"no need to reinvent the wheel," he said. "let's just tell them the truth."
"that we met at a bar through mutual friends? that's so unromantic!"
mat rolled his eyes. "we're not a fucking rom com, sweetheart. we're lying to your family and being as honest as possible makes the lying look more convincing."
you sighed and sat back in your seat. honestly, you had no reason to be frustrated. mat was doing you a favor, not the other way around. and with it being the offseason, it wasn't lost on you how much mat was giving up to play house with you. he could be visiting his own family instead of lying to yours.
yet here he was, sitting across from you with his disgusting black coffee.
you must've been staring at his cup because he snapped his fingers in your face. "what? what're you staring at?"
your face twisted in disgust. "can't believe you like that shit. no cream or sugar?"
mat eyed the frappuccino nestled in your hands. "i'm sorry, i didn't realize milkshakes qualify as coffee nowadays."
"you're just mad that my drink tastes good."
mat rolled his eyes. "keep telling yourself that."
you looked down at your phone at your notes app agenda. you deleted the intricate backstory bullet point and moved onto bullet point number two.
"okay, how long have we been dating?"
mat blinked. "you're the liar, you tell me."
god, why were you friends with him in the first place?
"i told my mom we've been together for a few months but i'm not sure what constitutes a few."
mat shrugged. "let's say we got together around the time of my injury when you nursed me back to health and realized how handsome i was."
you rolled your eyes, but wrote it down in your notes app anyway. "okay so where was our first date?"
"am i the one who has to answer all of these questions? who says we even need all of this? it's not like they're gonna lock us in a room and interrogate us separately."
"my brother would say otherwise." mat gestured for you to go on. "when we met his girlfriend, my family immediately separated them so they could bombard them with questions. but since everyone will be focused on my cousin's wedding, we should be good."
"who should i be worried about?"
you thought for a moment, in your opinion, your entire family was a concern in terms of introducing them to mat.
there was your brother, who could be an ass in a heartbeat; though, when you thought about it, he'd probably just leave the two of you alone.
your dad and mom would probably ask a few questions. your grandmother would probably be too busy trying to stuff her cooking down his throat to really pose a problem.
if you were being honest, you were concerned about your cousin, angela.
she wasn't what you would call a "girl's girl." throughout your childhood, it was like she was competing against you in a competition you didn't want to be in. who had the bigger birthday, the most friends, the most boyfriends, the bigger house, the better car, the better college.
it used to bother you more when you were younger. the way she'd flirt with your boyfriends or bribe your friends to hang out with her. it was made worse by the enabling of your parents and aunt.
"just keep an eye out for angela," was all you said.
mat's brow furrowed. "your cousin? why?"
you'd never fully told him about your less than perfect relationship with her, but considering the two of you were in a public setting and he wasn't your therapist? you kept that information to yourself and just shrugged.
"we don't have the best relationship."
mat seemed to understand you didn't want to speak on it anymore so he nodded and gestured to your phone. "is your phone ready to be seen by your family?"
"i'm sorry, what? why would my family go through my phone?"
"they'll at least want to see that i'm your lock screen, you're mine, after all."
"i am not." but mat held up his phone and sure enough it was a picture of you and him after one of his games, wearing his jersey with your arms wrapped around his waist. "you're shitting me, why?"
mat shrugged and locked his phone, placing it down on the table. "i looked good in the photo."
you wanted to call bullshit, but he was already doing you a favor, so you let it go.
"fine," you said. "i'll change my lock screen." you scrolled through your photos until you found one you liked.
"can i see it?" he asked.
you immediately held your phone to your chest. "no!"
"i showed you mine!"
"that sounds like a you problem!"
"but it's not fair!" he whined.
"life's not fair, barzy."
he rolled his eyes but dropped the subject, knowing full well he could make you show him just by bringing up the favor he was doing for you. but for some reason, he decided to let it go.
"anything else?" mat asked before checking his watch.
you looked down at your notes app and couldn't find a reason to get him to stay. "no, i think that's it. why, do you have somewhere to be?"
he shrugged. "just meeting up with a couple of my teammates."
"during the offseason? don't you get enough of each other during the regular season?"
"sure, but we miss each other sometimes. i mean we go from seeing all the time to nothing. plus you got me staying in the city a little longer than normal."
you rolled your eyes. "you didn't have to say yes."
but he smiled anyway. "i know." he stood up from the table and knocked on it once. "text me the dates of travel this week so i can put them on my calendar. i'll get the plane tickets. let me know if you need anything else!"
he pressed a kiss on the top of your head and then he was gone.
an older woman stood up and walked towards you and smiled. "i just wanna say, you and your boyfriend are so cute together!"
maybe the whole fake dating thing would be easier than you thought.
going home
you slept over at mat's the night before leaving for the airport because it would make things easier on marty who agreed to drive you both to the airport. you weren't exactly sure how mat convinced marty to do it, but you made it a habit of not asking questions you didn't want the answer to.
"thanks again for the ride, marty," you said from the backseat.
originally, you and mat were fighting over who got to sit in the front, but not in the way others might expect. he said it was polite to let ladies sit in the front (which, when has he ever called you a lady?). you said he had the longer legs and needed the space.
marty groaned at the both of you to stop wasting his gas and to get in the damn car, i swear to god, barzy.
you got the backseat simply because you got in and shut the door before mat could pull you out.
"where are you and barzy headed?" marty asked.
"back to my hometown. my cousin is getting married," you supplied before he had time to ask follow up questions.
"and you chose barzy to be your date?"
you awkwardly chuckled. "tito was already in canada and i didn't have it in me to ask him to come back to the states."
"oh fuck off," mat said from the front seat.
the drive continued with you sporadically staring out the window or tuning into the conversation mat and marty were having about offseason workouts and the nba finals. when marty pulled up to the airport, mat was the first one out, opening your door a beat later.
he grabbed both of your bags in his hands, saying a quick thanks to his teammate for the both of you before shutting the trunk.
"i can carry my bags, mat."
he laughed, but otherwise continued on like he hadn't heard you. if you were a better woman, or maybe someone who hadn't been friendzoned for the last few years, you would've acknowledged the veins in his arms popping out under the strain of your luggage.
but you'd been down that road before back before you were friends and just admiring a handsome stranger from across the bar.
look at how that turned out for you.
you were expecting to split up at TSA since you knew mat had pre check and you most certainly did not. you were expecting him to hand your bags over (a backpack and a carry on) and head in the pre check lane.
so imagine your surprise when he not only refused to hand your bags over, he continued walking to the normal security check.
"mat," you hissed, but he kept walking. "mat." you stood on your toes and grabbed his shoulder to keep him from walking, but he brushed you off. so you stopped moving altogether until he noticed you weren't following him anymore.
"will you come on? you're gonna make us late!" he turned around, looking exasperated for some reason, like he wasn't the one being weird.
"mat, you need to go that way." you pointed to the pre check area.
he blinked at you, rolled his eyes, and turned around and kept walking.
"mathew michael paul barzal, where are you going?" you called after him, practically running to catch up to his long strides.
"i thought it was obvious, i'm headed to security," he deadpanned.
"but your security is that way mr. pre check."
"i'm not doing pre check. i'm going through regular security like you."
"why?"
mat glanced down at you and by that look alone, you would've thought you were the dumbest person alive in his mind. "please don't play dumb, it's not cute."
"i'm not playing dumb! and i don't care about being cute!"
"i'm not going to abandon you at tsa. i'd feel much better if we stick together, happy?" he stopped walking altogether and fixed you with a look. one that kept you rooted to your spot. "you happy, now?" you nodded. "good, let's go."
you followed after him and got in line.
tsa took a total of 20 minutes to get through. mat insisted you go first which meant you put your backpack on and grabbed your carry on before he could.
"you're ridiculous," he said as the both of you started the trek towards your gate.
"you sound like my mother," you quipped.
the rest of your walk was spent in peaceful silence. the both of you made it to the gate with about thirty minutes until boarding, which was the latest you'd ever arrived to a gate before.
you and mat argued about when to arrive the night before.
he won.
mainly because he was the one to tell marty when to pick you up from his apartment.
it felt like no time had passed when the gate attendant started speaking over the intercom. instinctively, you zoned out. you weren't an idiot, you knew when to board. this wasn't your first rodeo.
but mat started standing up when the gate attendant started calling for the first group.
you tugged his shirt sleeve. "mat, what the hell?"
it was a good thing your family wasn't there to see all the drama that unfolded between the two of you in the airport. anyone who watched the two of you since you'd arrived wouldn't believe you were in love.
not when you were actively getting on each other's nerves.
"will you stop?" he swatted your hand away only to grab it a second later to tug you into a standing position.
"what are you doing? we don't get on the plane yet--"
but he cut you off when he shoved a plane ticket in your hand with the words first class written on it.
"mat..." you trailed off. "what is this?"
he glanced down at you and rolled his eyes. "don't act like you've never seen a plane ticket before."
"asshole. why is it first class?"
he shrugged but wouldn't meet you eye. "i get more leg room."
"but why wouldn't you just put me in economy? mat i can't afford to pay you back for this!" you were panicking and beginning to think about how much you'd have to save before you could venmo him the full amount. you were about to pull your phone out to see how much it would cost before he grabbed your hand again, this time squeezing it in his own.
"don't worry about it," he said calmly. "i wasn't gonna let you sit alone, and i have the money for it, so i did it."
"but i can't afford--"
"i was never gonna let you pay me back anyways, so don't even think about how much it cost." while still holding onto your hand, he guided the both of you over to the gate entrance where your tickets were scanned so you could board.
you were sitting in first class moments later.
mat let you take the window seat while he got the aisle, saying it gave him more space, but you liked to think it was because he knew you liked watching the changing landscapes.
when the plane took off, mat leaned his head back in the seat and plugged his airpods in, closing his eyes as he did so. you mentally slapped yourself for forgetting yours, stupidly thinking that maybe mat would want to talk when he'd been uncharacteristically quiet the entire trip thus far.
you sat back in your seat and looked out the window as the clouds passed by. worries of how your family would react to mat, or worse, how mat would react to your family, filling your mind.
god you didn't think you could stomach losing him. in fact, maybe your entire idea was too risky. you'd take being the butt of the family jokes for years to come if it meant you got to keep mat. if you lost him--
your hand was squeezed twice.
you looked away from the window to mat who was holding your hand again and had an airpod out.
"you're thinking too loud," he said. "you okay?"
you nodded but it was clear he didn't believe you. nonetheless, he didn't push. instead, he held an airpod out to you. the tones of some pop song filled your ear.
mat didn't let go of your hand for the entire rest of the plane ride.
as soon as the plane hit the tarmac, mat was taking his airpod back and stuffing both into the case and back into his backpack. you texted your mom to let her know you'd just landed and would be getting an uber to her house.
while you were texting your mother, mat was grabbing your bags and holding up the line so you could slide out.
he didn't even acknowledge the glares and eye rolls being shot at both of you.
you and mat started your walk off the plane and towards the exit of the airport.
"so remind me who i need to be concerned about meeting? is it your dad?"
you laughed. your father was a lot of things, intimidating was not even remotely close to one. "not even close. it's angela that's the problem the problem."
"angela's the one getting married, right?" you nodded. "why are you concerned about her? she'll be too focused on getting married."
you laughed. actually, cackled. "she's had this planned out since we were seven. i'd bet my first born child that she has all of this finalized months ago."
"anything else i should know?" he asked.
you thought to yourself. what could you say about angela that wouldn't be mean but still be true?
"just....stay close. we need to go everywhere together, understood?"
he furrowed his brows. "even to the bathroom?"
you thought back to that one time in 11th grade when you didn't follow your boyfriend to the bathroom. "especially then," you said.
"got it. stick to you like glue."
you were staring at your phone and opening up your uber app when mat nudged you, but you ignored him.
but he nudged you before just grabbing your phone out of your hand.
"what?!" you asked.
he pointed. "is that your mom?"
a cold chill went down your back as you made eye contact with the woman who was your carbon copy holding a sign with yours and mat's (albeit spelled wrong) names on it. she was smiling and waving erratically with the hand that wasn't holding onto the poster.
"oh my god."
before you could even stop him, mat was walking towards your mom with an award winning smile. to your absolute horror, he placed your bags on the ground and allowed her to wrap him in a hug.
you zombie walked over to them, like you were trapped in some fever dream.
"honey!" she squealed when she pulled away from mat. "you didn't tell me how handsome mat was!" she said not so quietly.
god you wanted to die. curl up and die right there on the airport floor.
mat was snickering into his fist at your reaction.
maybe you should've asked beau instead.
home
your mom parked the car in the driveway; she nearly swooned when mat opened your car door for you and grabbed all of your bags.
"such a gentleman," was all she said before heading up the front porch.
the two of you followed your mother into your house where your dad, your brother, and his girlfriend sat in the living room.
"mat," you started. "this is my dad, my brother cody, and his girlfriend harper. guys, this is mat."
"i would wave, but my hands are full."
"oh honey, stop being rude and show mat to your room."
you blinked. "you mean, our rooms, right?" your mother and father were very traditional in that sense. so you'd banked on having to share a bathroom at most with mat.
not an entire bedroom.
not a tiny bed.
"we're not gonna act like the two of you haven't slept together already. i was born at night, but not last night," your father said from his position in the recliner.
you could hear mat choking on air while your brother cackled.
"besides," your mother cleared her throat. "cody's old room has been converted into an office, so that just leaves the queen bed in your room, sweetheart. that won't be a problem, will it?"
you shook your head, though you very much wanted to curl up in a hole and die. "no ma'am, that'll be fine."
your father crossed his hands over his stomach and leveled mat with a heated stare. "just because i know the two of you have slept together does not mean under any circumstances that it should happen under this roof. do you understand me, son?"
mat nodded, though he looked the most uncomfortable you'd ever seen him. "yes sir."
"oh honey," your mother started. "let them go settle in. dinner will be in an hour."
you led mat up the stairs and to your childhood bedroom. you finally gave up on offering to help carry the bags. mat, for the most part, looked happy to do something with his hands all things considered.
the room hadn't changed much since you moved out and away from home. the walls were still lilac, the carpet was still cream.
but the dolls you had growing up were missing, and for that, you were thankful.
mat dropped the bags on the ground and shut the door behind him. his shoulders relaxed for the first time since getting off the airplane.
"your family's nice," he said.
you immediately flocked to him until there was only about a foot between you. "mat, i'm so sorry. i didn't think they'd make us share a room, they never let cody do that growing up."
he smiled and placed his hands on your shoulders. "it's okay. it's just for a week. we've fallen asleep together on the couch before, it'll be just like that, just in a bed, okay? and i promise i won't stare when you get changed."
you nodded and wrapped your arms around his waist. "this is already so overwhelming."
"hey, we're the dream team, okay? i'm the best liar ever. we've got this in the bag."
and when he sounded so confident, how could you possibly believe otherwise?
the two of you got settled in your room before completely kicking off your shoes, changing into comfier clothes (with you in the closet and mat in the room) and settling into bed just to scroll on your phones. your mom came knocking before too long to tell you dinner was ready.
dinner was a pot of spaghetti, your mom's best dish. everyone was seated by the time you and mat made it into the dining room. mat, ever the performer, pulled your chair out and took the seat to your right, choosing to sit next to your mom rather than your father.
"are you waiting for a grand invitation? dig in," your father grunted. his irritation immediately kicked everyone into gear, with your family passing around garlic bread and filling plates with pasta.
the table was quiet aside from the sounds of forks scraping against the plates.
"so mat," cody started. "what do you do for a living?"
"oh," he said, wiping his mouth. "i play professional hockey."
"an athlete?" your mother questioned. "i thought you learned from the last one."
you about dropped your head into your plate. "mom...."
"sorry, sorry, i know we said we wouldn't talk about him, but he's going to be a part of the family soon."
mat's neck should've snapped from how fast he whipped it to look at you.
you nudged his knee under the table with yours. later, you hoped he'd understand.
harper cleared her throat. "what team do you play for?" she asked. "i grew up a devils fan, so i have to know."
"islanders," mat smirked, like it was something to be proud of, and to him, it was. to your family though? they were more concerned with the upcoming college football season to really care.
"oh god," harper replied. "at least you don't play for the rangers."
mat took a sip of his water. "agreed."
"do you still have all your teeth?" cody asked.
you inhaled and started choking on what you guessed was a spaghetti noodle. mat reached over and immediately started patting your back quite forcefully until your airway was cleared.
"yeah," mat said. "still have all my teeth."
"how did you two meet?" your mom asked. clearly your family was in interrogation mode, but at the very least these were questions you prepared for.
"at a bar through some mutual friends," mat answered, knowing good and well they weren't looking for you to say anything, their eyes were solely focused on your best friend.
"and out of all the girls, you picked this one? did you know she couldn't tie her shoes till she was in third grade?" cody laughed.
mat didn't.
which was odd, because he was usually the first one to poke fun at you.
"you wet the bed until you were nine," you shot back, ready to diffuse the tension.
a loud laugh burst from harper's mouth. not even her hand over her lips could quite muffle the volume of it.
cody rolled his eyes but held his hands up. "laugh all you want, harp. you chose this."
she smiled and leaned into him. "i did."
you stared until mat's hand landed on your thigh, effectively snapping you out of your daze. you looked at him and gave him a small smile before eating more of your mom's cooking.
dinner was over shortly thereafter, with small talk being made between the six of you. when it ended, mat was the first one up, grabbing both of your plates, while you grabbed the cups, and followed you into the kitchen.
"oh no, you're not washing dishes," you said when you saw him put the plates in the sink. but he made no sound of hearing you. "mat!" you hissed before placing your cups in the sink and grabbing him by the arm. "you're not washing dishes! you're a guest!"
"neither of you are," your mother walked in. "you just got here. your father and i will clean up dinner, the two of you can go relax and unwind. i'm sure you've had a long day."
"i can help--" mat started.
but your mom started twirling a hand towel with a smile on her face. "don't make me smack you with this, mat." and the very sight of that coupled with the lighthearted threat had you both sprinting out of the kitchen. you'd grown up in that house long enough to remember the sting of the towel on your legs when you annoyed your mother.
you also remembered trying to get back at her once and failing completely.
your father passed the two of you as he walked into the kitchen while your brother and his girlfriend took their spots on the couch. it only left one seat left in the room, your dad's chair. but combined with the air travel, the early morning, you were left exhausted and nothing sounded better than showering and crawling into bed.
"we're gonna head upstairs, long day and all," you said to cody and harper, the inference was that they would tell your parents.
mat followed you up the stairs and into your childhood bedroom. "you take the first shower," you instructed. "i have to wash my hair and it'll take longer."
he nodded and gathered his clothes while you searched your bag for a set of modest pajamas. he finished his shower in about twenty minutes.
you hopped in the shower and went through your routine, washing your hair and body before stepping out and drying off. when you got back to your room, mat was laying in bed under the covers watching the tv on your dresser.
in true fashion, he was watching espn.
"don't you get enough of this during the season? i didn't even know you liked baseball." you crawled into bed and cuddled into mat's clothed chest like you always did.
mat shrugged, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "i was waiting for you to come back to decide what we should watch."
you hummed and buried your face into his shirt.
cuddling wasn't abnormal for the two of you, most movie nights at mat's place ended with you in similar positions. you were aware his friends made fun of him for it, but mat thrived off physical affection and you were all too willing to give it to him.
"just turn on a movie," you mumbled.
he selected a random mission impossible movie that you couldn't give two shits about. but when the movie and your fresh shower were coupled with mat running a hand up and down your back?
you were out like a light.
exploring the hometown -- the dress shop
it was an alarm that woke you up right as the sun rose. you groaned into your pillow, burying your face into the fabric. a warm arm tightened its grip around your waist. for a moment you freaked out, trying to wriggle away from the person who had you locked in, but the person grumbled and groaned.
"if you keep moving like that, i'm going to need a cold shower. so stop."
oh.
mat.
oh.
you immediately stopped moving and relaxed back into the bed.
"we need to talk," he said.
"can we talk later? it's barely even morning."
but mat had no intention of letting you sleep in. he used his arm to forcibly turn you over to face him. when you looked him in the face, his hair was mussed and in his eyes. before you could even stop yourself, you hand was reaching and moving the hair out of the way.
"what did your mom mean when she said the last athlete you dated was joining the family soon?"
you groaned and shoved your head into his chest, but he lightly pushed your forehead away from him so he could look you in the eyes.
"i'm serious," he said.
you sighed. "i dated this guy in 11th grade, his name was owen and he played football. he was the starting tight end and a grade older than me." you avoided looking at him and instead traced the letters on his islanders t-shirt with your fingers. "things were great, he was nice and all, so i invited him to my birthday party. he went to the bathroom, and i noticed he was gone for awhile so when i went to look for him, he was making out with angela."
mat's grip tightened on your waist. he said your name quietly, but you shook your head.
"it's fine," you said. "i told my parents but angela didn't get in trouble, not really at least. my aunt pressured me to make up with her for the sake of 'family' and 'feminism,' so i accepted her half assed apology and congratulated her when they got engaged a year ago."
"what a bitch," was all mat said.
"mat..."
but he was sitting up and pulling you with him. "no, don't brush this off. what she did was shitty. and your family just expected you to forgive her and watch her get married to him?"
"mat, it happened years ago. forgive and forget."
"i think you mean resent and remember," he grumbled.
"can we just go back to sleep? it's too early for this."
mat huffed but sank back into the mattress.
the two of you fell back asleep until light was hitting you in the eyes. "get up, sleepy heads! you can't sleep the day away!"
you groaned at the sound of your mother's cheering, or maybe it was the bright ceiling light blinding you, either way, the way you woke up the first time was better than this.
"mom, what time is it?"
"a little after 8."
you and mat groaned in unison. "you couldn't let us sleep in?"
"there are things that need to get done, sweetheart. do either of you have something to wear to the wedding?"
"mom, it's too early for this."
she sighed and probably rolled her eyes, something you would notice if you weren't too busy burying your head in the fabric of mat's shirt. in turn, he was burying his face in your hair.
"fine. you two can sleep the day away, but i expect the both of you for dinner tonight and to be dressed appropriately for the family dinner tomorrow." she left shortly thereafter.
"family dinner?" mat asked into your hair. "how is that different from regular dinner?"
"it's with the entire family, not just mine. you'll meet all my cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents there."
"sounds like a lot."
"it is. they did this when my cousin andy got married two years ago."
mat hummed into the top of your head. "sounds exhausting."
"if you don't wanna see me for a month after this week is over, i wouldn't blame you."
he brought you closer to him, which you didn't think was possible considering you two were already pretty close. "i always wanna see you."
you smiled into his shirt, which you were pretty sure he could feel, but neither of you drew attention to it.
"we need to get up," you sighed, pushing away from him just a little.
"i'm already up."
on cue you felt something around your hip that had you squealing and falling out of bed laughing. "you absolute douche!" but it had no real bite since you were holding your stomach and rolling around on the floor laughing.
"what am i supposed to do when i wake up with a pretty girl pressed against me? ignore nature?"
you rolled your eyes and got up, searching through your bag for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. "get dressed, asshole."
by the time you made it downstairs after taking care of your hair and brushing your teeth, your mother had set out a few granola bars for breakfast.
"i would've made eggs and waffles, but i'm already swamped with helping your aunt, i just didn't have the energy this morning."
"thanks, mom," you smiled and kissed her cheek once before grabbing a granola bar.
"do you know what you're wearing to angela's wedding?" she asked.
you nodded while you chewed your bar. "i brought that blue dress i wore to cody's graduation."
your mom's face twisted into disgust. "that old thing? honey, you can do better than that."
you waited until your mother turned around to roll your eyes only to catch mat coming down the stairs in a t-shirt and jeans.
god he looked so good it should be criminal.
but instead of fawning over him, you just threw a granola bar at his chest with he caught with an ease. "what're we doing today?"
"shopping apparently," you grumbled.
"oh don't give him attitude, honey. you should've packed something more appropriate to the wedding instead of that ratty dress you brought."
"it's not ratty!" you weren't sure why you were defending a dress you didn't care about, you'd only grabbed the first dress you saw in your closet. maybe it was the fact that she was so quick to dismiss something you chose to wear.
"that dress is years old, sweetheart. it's time for something new."
"thanks for the constructive criticism, mom. you never fail to give it at the best times," you deadpanned. you glanced back at mat who was stuffing the granola bar in his mouth. "you ready to go?"
he nodded, still chewing as you started walking towards the door.
"dad! i'm taking your car." you grabbed the keys, then mat's hand, and tugged him out the door.
neither of you spoke until you were already five minutes down the road.
"are you okay?" mat asked, eyes warily staring at your from the passenger seat. "you're gripping the wheel pretty tight."
you looked down at your own hands and eased up. "she just--" you groaned. "she always does this, criticizes me or what i wear. i know she means well, but it's irritating."
"for what it's worth, i liked the blue dress."
you gave him a small smile. "the problem isn't you, mat, it's not even the dress. if my mom thinks it's ratty, angela definitely will. and at the end of the day, i think that's what my mom is trying to save me from."
"why doesn't she just tell angela to mind her own business?"
"question of the year," you grumbled before pulling into the parking lot of a local boutique.
the two of you got out and headed inside, though mat looked a little out of place. "what's the dress code for this wedding anyway?"
"i'm sure if you brought a dress shirt and some slacks, you'll be fine."
you looked around, occasionally checking the dresses on the racks, but nothing caught your eye.
"can i help you find anything?" that voice nearly stopped you in your tracks, it was someone you hadn't thought about since you left for college.
you turned around and smiled at the woman in front of you. last time you saw her, you were standing in matching caps and gowns. you sat next to each other at graduation, and before that, you shared a few classes together. if it wasn't for the bright red hair and the comments your mom had made in the past about her staying in town, you never would've recognized her.
you hoped she wouldn't recognize you.
but she said your name in shock and smiled. "it's been so long!" she said. "back in town for angela's wedding?"
and really, you had no reason to dread this conversation, meredith was as nice as she was in high school. but you weren't sure if anyone was ever this happy to run into someone they knew from high school.
speaking of, you couldn't even remember why you weren't closer to her in high school.
"meredith, hi," you replied. "yes, i'm in town for her wedding. are you going?"
meredith nodded and smiled. "i'm actually her maid of honor."
of course she was.
that explained why you weren't close friends in high school.
"that's so exciting!" you smiled through a clenched jaw.
"i was shocked to hear you weren't in the bridal party though. is everything okay?" meredith sounded genuinely concerned, and while she was sweet, you never remembered her being very observant.
you shrugged. "we've grown apart since i moved away, it's water under the bridge."
meredith nodded until her gaze shifted to behind you were you assumed mat had just appeared. "who's this?"
"this is--"
"i'm mat," he held his hand out to shake. "her boyfriend."
meredith shakily grabbed his hand, you could see it tremble in his grip. "meredith," she practically swooned. a moment passed before she let go of his hand.
you had to keep from rolling your eyes. you were no stranger to mat's effect on women but it didn't make it any less obnoxious.
"we're looking for a dress for her to wear to the wedding," mat explained as his arm snaked around your waist. "i think she looks amazing in anything, but if you could find her something summery that matches her complexion, maybe a nice sundress, that would be very helpful."
you looked at mat like he'd grown a second and third head while meredith scrambled off to find something to fit his description. "are you okay?"
"why wouldn't i be?"
"you just listed of a theme of clothing without even batting an eyelash."
mat shrugged. "i was just being efficient. if you don't like what she picks out, we can always find something else or go somewhere else. but i thought the summery vibe would look nice with what i packed."
"and what did you pack? a white shirt and black slacks?"
"guess you'll have to find out in a few days," he quipped before lightly booping your nose.
meredith came back with an arm full of dresses and ushered the both of you back to the dressing rooms. she handed the articles of clothing to you and whisked herself away citing that she'd be around if you needed anything.
which was perfectly fine with you, it meant you didn't have an audience to trying on dresses.
"try the green one on first!" mat called as you shut the door behind you.
"you're not running the show here, barzal. as much as you would like to think otherwise."
you put the green one on first anyway.
you looked in the mirror, not sure if you liked the sleeves or the cut of the dress. was it too short for a wedding? it felt too casual.
"are you gonna show me? i'm assuming it doesn't take ten years for you to put on a dress, sweetheart," mat said.
"i'm not doing a fashion show for you, barzy."
"your boyfriend would like very much to see what you're getting, baby."
you rolled your eyes, mainly because he had a point. but amidst your irritation, hesitancy rose up but you didn't know why. mat had never given you a reason to be insecure, he was more than affirming about your place in his life and your appearance. you had no reason to be insecure, but yet it was rising up anyway.
still, you opened the door.
you poked your head out to see mat sitting on his phone until he heard the creak of the door. "well, let me see you!" he said.
you came out from behind the door as confidently as you could manage.
only for mat to let out a low whistle.
"oh shut up," you whined.
"you look good, baby," he smirked. "almost too good to wear out in public." you flushed under his scrutinizing stare that seemed to linger on some areas more than others and the nickname made heat slowly crawl up your neck.
"you're such a flatterer."
"just calling it like i see it, honey."
"will you quit it with the nicknames?" you covered your face with your hands.
"am i embarrassing you, baby?" he asked, voice much closer now. you didn't know why until you felt two hands on your waist.
"no."
mat pulled your hands down and smirked as he placed his palms back on your waist. "liar."
you rolled your eyes. "do you like the dress or not?"
"it's not about my opinion, do you like it?"
you all but stomped your foot in frustration. "mat," you whined. "what was the point of coming out here if you're just going to defer to my opinion?"
he shrugged like it wasn't bothering him to be that close to you; unlike you, whose heart was racing a mile a minute. "because i like to see dresses on pretty women, specifically you."
you shoved him away with a light push on his chest. the skirt of the dress bunching up a bit as his grip was pulled away.
"lemme see the next one!" he called as you walked back into the dressing room.
you tried on three more dresses, all of them garnering a similar reaction from mat, but none really feeling like the dress you should be wearing. none of them were nice enough to wear to the wedding without your mother, aunt, or angela saying something smart.
your hope was diminishing when you got to the final dress. it was plain in comparison to the others as far as beading and lace went, just a simple navy blue dress with a deep v and a small slit up to mid thigh. but you tried it on anyway.
"i don't know about this one, but i kinda like it. i wanted to know what you think," you said as you came out the dressing room.
mat looked up from his phone.
only for his jaw to drop.
you shifted your weight from foot to foot, back and forth, as you waited for a comment from him. mat, in all your time as friends, was never hesitant to share his opinion, but the longer he stayed silent, the more fearful you got that maybe this dress wasn't the one you should be wearing.
"do you not like it? i can--"
"no, you're getting it." he stood up and called meredith over who seemed to have been hovering just out of sight, like she was waiting for that exact moment. "she's getting this one, can you ring it up?"
meredith smiled but looked back and forth between you two. "of course, she'll have to take it off but--"
"mat, are you sure? i'm not even sure about this."
"baby," there he went, using another pet name. "you look fantastic, and even if you didn't, which you do, i took one look at your face and could tell you loved this dress. you're getting it." he said it so confidently you were inclined to believe him.
you started reaching for the tag on the dress. "how much is it--"
he ripped the tag off and handed it to meredith along with his card. "will you ring this up for us while she gets dressed, meredith?" he asked.
"mat, you don't have to pay--"
“let’s be honest, this is more for me than you." he said it so confidently, how could you possibly say no to him? "go get dressed," he said. "i'll be out here."
you quickly changed into your other clothes and grabbed the dress on your way out. mat quickly took the dress out of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. you didn't think anything of it until he pulled you in and placed a kiss on the side of your head.
you would've read into it had meredith not been in plain sight.
he must've done it to keep up the act.
meredith took the dress and wrapped it in a box that mat refused to let you carry, just like he refused to let you see the receipt. you told him that you'd just venmo him, but he ignored you all the way to the car.
preparation mode
your mom had ordered pizza for dinner which you and mat had taken up to your room. no one in your family batted an eyelash considering you both cited it as having a long day and wanting to unwind.
"so tell me about your family, the ones i haven't met yet," mat said through a mouth full of pizza.
you were currently wearing one of his t-shirts that you stole from his apartment a month ago and a pair of running shorts while you leaned back against the headboard. "well, there's my uncle mike, he's my mom's brother and the oldest in their family. for the most part he minds his business, he's on his fourth marriage and probably the last one because him and his wife don't even care to mask their indifference towards each other." you took a huge bite of your pizza and swallowed it before continuing. "then there's aunt patty who is angela's mom and she's about as nice as they come but also she's super passive aggressive and let's angela get away with everything."
"sounds like she's not actually nice, and you're just conditioned to think she is."
you rolled your eyes. "we don't have time to psychoanalyze my familial relationships, barzy."
"sure we do, if your aunt lets your bullying cousin get away with everything, then she's not actually nice."
"what does that make her then, smart ass?"
"a pawn." and he said it so lightly that you didn't even think about it for a moment. when you finally registered what he said, you furrowed your brows. so mat continued. "anyone who lets their child 'get away with everything' even when they're wrong is not a parent so much as they are a pawn in their child's game."
you blinked at him once. then a second time, wondering when your best friend had been replaced by your therapist.
"what?" he asked.
"i'm just trying to figure out what happened to my best friend. it's like you were replaced by dr. phil."
mat rolled his eyes. "i'm allowed to be wise on occasion."
"is it an occasion if it's never happened before?"
"what makes you say that?"
"i'm saying someone who gets hit in the face with a hockey stick or a puck every other game doesn't always have the best wisdom."
"but i do now! and that's what matters." he took another bite of pizza and hummed to himself.
"what?" you asked. "what was that hum about?"
"tell me about your other family members."
you explained how your cousin andrew (otherwise known as andy) was the oldest of angela's siblings and was married two years ago to his wife kelsey. they were distant from angela because she announced her engagement at kelsey's baby shower, but in true family fashion, that incident was pushed under the rug.
then there was thomas who was a year older than you and angela who had an affinity of sleeping around and generally not giving a shit about anyone or anything. he would say what he wanted when he wanted and for that reason, he was one of your favorite relatives. because, for the most part, he was the only one other than your grandmother who called angela out on her shit.
"what about your grandparents?"
you shrugged. "my grandfather died a few years ago and my grandmother is still around. she's honestly my favorite family member, though i'm sure that has nothing to do with me and cody being her favorites."
"oh i'm sure," mat said.
"and that's my mom's side of the family." you slapped your thighs and took a sip of your drink.
"what about you?"
you looked at him, confused at what he could possibly be talking about. "what about me?"
"you've told me about your family, tell me about you."
you scoffed. "mat, we're friends, what could you possibly want to know about me?"
he shrugged. "tell me something i wouldn't know. if you don't, i'm going to go downstairs and ask your mom to bring out the baby photos."
you rolled your eyes and sighed heavily, like it was some burden on you. "fine. when i was a kid, angela stuck bubble gum in my hair and i had to get a horrendous haircut. cody made fun of me until it grew out again."
"i bet you were still cute."
you got up from the bed and picked up a picture frame off your dresser. for some reason, your mother insisted on decorating your room with your worst moments, hence why your prom photo was hanging in the stair way. you handed the picture frame to mat who immediately smiled at your seven year old self smiling with two missing teeth and a shitty haircut.
"oh," he said.
"what?" you asked.
mat looked up with a huge smile on his face. "i definitely would've had a crush on you as a kid." you rolled your eyes and shoved him in the shoulder. "hey!" he protested. "i would've! you were cute!"
"shut up, you would not. i bet seven year old mat was the cutest boy in his grade and too worried about hockey to look at seven year old me."
"he might've been, i'd never know. but all i'm saying is if seven year old me knew seven year old you? he'd be in love. well, as much love as a seven year old can feel. in fact, i would've given you my favorite pokemon cards if you'd asked."
you could feel heat creeping up your neck at the idea, and how far it was from the truth. your classmates gave you hell for the way your hair looked, and it was such an odd and unbelievable story that no one took you seriously until the next school year when you grew your hair out.
"well, do you have a photo of you as a kid? it's not fair that you get unlimited access to all my childhood photos and i don't get to see you!"
mat rolled his eyes but pulled out his phone and scrolled through his camera roll. he flipped his phone around so you could see a photo of him in hockey gear with a big smile on his face. "aw mat," you cooed. "you were so cute."
"would you have had a crush on me?"
you thought about it for a moment. "i actually had a crush on this guy in my grade named frankie, so probably not."
mat's jaw dropped. "so my crush would go unrequited?"
"mat, honey, we didn't even live in the same country. this whole situation is hypothetical."
"tell me, did frankie play hockey?"
"what? no."
"was he funnier than me?"
"mat how am i supposed to know if second grade you was funnier than frankie?"
he shrugged. "i don't know. but was he?"
"he was the class clown."
mat groaned and fell back into your pillows. "seven year old mat is crushed. he stands no chance."
"honey, i cannot stress this enough, this is a hypothetical situation."
but all of a sudden, he stood up to his full height and walked towards you with the picture frame still in his hands. he placed the frame back on your dresser and closed the distance between the two of you. "what if it wasn't hypothetical?" he said, his tone shifted from playful to serious.
you locked his phone while you looked at him, to say you were confused would be an understatement. "what're you talking about?"
he shrugged and placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer until you hips touched and it was like electricity struck your nervous system. "what if--"
a knock on the door interrupted anything mat was going to say. the two of you jumped apart. "hope you two aren't naked!" cody's voice sounded through the wooden door. "we're having a movie night and mom made it clear that you two need to be downstairs in five minutes."
"we'll be right out!" you called, though your eyes were still locked on mat's.
he reluctantly let go of you as you cleared your throat. you didn't know what was different about air around you, how it felt tense and warm at the same time.
you headed downstairs with mat trailing behind you and sat on the couch next to each other. you weren't sure what changed, but when mat put his arm around you like he had done in the past, you fought every urge to tense up. what was going on with you?
when the movie was over, and it was time for all of you to go to bed, you and mat dressed in separate rooms. you were in bed by the time he returned and you were too busy controlling your breaths to notice his hesitancy.
he called your name quietly, but you squeezed your eyes shut and evened out your breathing. mat pushed a strand of hair behind your ear as he got in bed before he wrapped an arm around your waist pulled your back to his chest.
your heart beat against your ribs loud enough you were sure he could hear it. you weren't sure why, or what it was, not even your ex boyfriend had your heart beating like that, and it took you months to get over him.
when mat finally fell asleep, you relaxed, and pulled yourself gently and slowly out of his hold.
you placed a pillow between you two.
it was on the floor on mat's side the next morning.
the "big family" dinner
"is this appropriate enough to wear to dinner tonight?" mat came into the room wearing a plain white tee and black jeans with adidas.
it should be a sin to look that good in something so simple.
"if you were anyone else, i'd say no," you replied.
he blinked. "what does that mean?"
"i mean somehow you make really plain outfits look good."
he smirked. "you saying i look good?"
"oh please. like you don't know."
mat put both of his hands in his front pockets and leaned his shoulder against the wall. "maybe, but it sounds better coming from your mouth." you rolled your eyes and shoved him aside as you gathered your clothes in your hands. "what're you wearing?"
"a shirt and shorts." you walked into the bathroom across the hall to change into your outfit before going back in the bedroom to get your shoes.
mat let out a low whistle much like he did at the boutique. "is that my shirt?"
you looked down and saw the islanders logo on the front and shrugged. "must be."
"when did you grab this?"
"must've been during one of our sleepovers." you walked right out of the room and down the stairs to join the rest of your family. the six of you (your father, mother, brother, his girlfriend, mat, and you) would be riding in two separate cars. cody tried to convince your parents that mat should ride with them while you rode with him, but you quickly shot that idea down. you wouldn't say you were embarrassed of your parents, but you surely weren't going to leave mat to his own devices with them.
which is how you ended up sitting in the backseat of your dad's subaru with a foot of space between you and mat.
"mat, honey, tell us about your family! do you have any siblings?" your mother asked from the front seat she tried to give him earlier.
"you have longer legs!" she said.
"and my dad would literally punch me in the chest if i didn't let you sit shotgun," mat replied.
"i have a sister, her name's liana."
"oh, liana!" your mother gushed. "what a beautiful name! i should've named you that, honey!"
"mom," you whined. "you don't think it would be weird to have the same name as mat's sister?"
she hummed. "i guess, when you put it that way..." your mother shook her head. "how'd you get into hockey, mat?"
"mom, mat's gonna be interrogated all night long, can we save the questions for later?"
"baby, it's fine," mat assured you. your heart picked up just a little at the pet name but settled down when he turned his attention back to your mom. "i grew up playing it," he said. "my dad used to play as well."
it was like your mom fell in love with your boyfriend even more. "see honey? he continued a tradition that his father set for him!" you kept yourself from snarking back and rolling your eyes and just smiled. "i wanted my daughter to be a nurse like me," she explained to mat. "but she wasn't interested."
"mom, i can barely handle the sight of blood and you thought i would be okay in the icu?"
mat cackled. "you should see her when i have cuts and bruises from games, she pulls out gloves and about douses my wounds in peroxide."
"i'm not gonna get a blood borne disease because of you, barzal," you replied.
he rolled his eyes but smiled at you anyway.
you zoned out for the rest of the car ride as your aunt's house grew closer. mat, ever the observant friend, reached out and grabbed your hand in his, squeezing it three times until you looked at him.
"you okay?" he mouthed. when you finally nodded he sighed and brought your hands to his lips, kissing it once before placing your joined hands between the two of you. your heart soared at the gesture, but you looked back out the window before he could see it.
your father parked the car in front of a giant house you were all too familiar with. memories flashed before your eyes of summers spent swimming in the pool in the backyard and playing with toys in angela's room.
"be on your best behavior," your mom directed towards you with a knowing look in her eyes. you weren't sure why, you hadn't made a scene in years, though you were contemplating it if your mom kept harassing you.
you and mat slid out of the backseat and followed your parents to the front door. your mom didn't even bother knocking; she opened the door and left it open for the rest of you to follow. mat trailed behind you, grabbing your hand at the last minute before walking through the front door.
you were immediately accosted by a plethora of voices and music, unknowingly, you gripped mat's hand a little tighter as your aunt rounded the corner with a glass of champagne and a large smile. you saw as she greeted your parents with hugs, careful not to spill her drink. when her eyes focused on you, or rather the hand you were holding, there was a sense of smug satisfaction that occurred when you saw the poorly disguised shock on her face.
"hey!" she greeted. "i see you brought a friend."
before you could say anything, mat was taking his hand out of yours and shaking your aunt's hand. "i'm mat, the boyfriend."
aunt patty smiled and then looked at you, like she was evaluating something. "nice to meet you, mat," she said before bringing you into a hug and giving the same salutation she gave your parents. "angela will be excited to see you, both of you!" she said.
doubtful, you thought. very doubtful.
aunt patty ushered the both of you further into the house; mat's hand returned to holding yours until it was time to go outside in the backyard and join the rest of the family, then his hand moved to your lower back.
the two of you walked outside and watched as your family mingled in the backyard.
"who do we talk to first?" mat asked.
you shook your head. "no one. we go grab food first. my family is easier to handle with food."
mat nodded and followed your lead to the table with assorted finger foods on it. the two of you grabbed a plate full of food and found a table to sit.
it wasn't long before the table filled up with cody and his girlfriend who'd arrived moments after you did.
"did you give him the family run down?" cody asked before taking a bite out of one of his deviled eggs.
"this isn't amateur hour, cody. i spent the entire evening yesterday prepping him."
and a coffee date and plane ride dedicated to perfecting a fabricated story.
as if reminded that you two had appearances to keep up, mat reached back and draped his arm around the back of your chair and leaned back in his own. he looked so comfortable doing so you would've believed him to be genuine.
it wasn't long before your other family members came over, your grandmother to start. both you and mat stood to greet her. she wasted no time pulling you into a hug and kissing your cheek, holding your face between her hands and smiling.
"my, my, my, you've grown," she said.
"you say that every time you see me, grandma," you replied.
"and i mean it every time." her eyes dart to over your shoulder where you're positive mat is towering over you. "and who is this?" she asked, but it was clear by the smirk on her face that she already knew. the entire family probably knew given how much your mother liked to talk about your love life.
"i'm mat," he said and extended a hand out to shake.
your grandmother immediately let go of you and all but pushed you out of the way to hug mat who didn't even hesitate to embrace her back. when your grandmother pulled away she smiled and glanced back and forth between you and mat.
"so you're the gentleman who stole my baby's heart?"
mat gave your grandmother a megawatt smile. "no ma'am, you have it backwards. i just tricked her into dating me, still not sure how i accomplished it though."
your grandmother looked back at you and all but swooned. "you didn't tell me how handsome he was."
you blinked. you weren't sure what kind of magic ability mat had but the fact that you grandmother looked ready to become a cougar or push you down the aisle said something.
"didn't think he was your type, grandma."
she rolled her eyes but the smile on her lips said enough. "you and that attitude, girl, i've missed it. i hope she doesn't give you this much trouble, mat."
he only reached around your grandmother and tugged you into his chest. "oh this one? she usually gives me a run for my money," he said before placing a kiss on the top of your head.
your grandmother looked at you and smiled.
and just like that, he'd won over your grandmother's approval. it was a record for you, actually. even your best boyfriend had to meet her several times to win her over.
and mat did it in a matter of minutes.
really, it wasn't fair how charming he was.
"well," she said. "i'll let you two finish eating, i'm sure your cousin will make her way over here at some point." and on cue, your grandmother and you met eyes and shared an understanding. while your grandma loved angela, she, unlike your aunt, was not blind to the passive aggressive comments made by your cousin over the years.
mat pulled your chair out and pushed it in as you sat down before taking his place next to you. his hand immediately made its way onto your thigh, his thumb stroking the outside of your leg.
he leaned in and murmured in your ear. "that went well."
you swallowed the weird sensation in your throat that probably had nothing to do with his touch and proximity.
"a little too well if you ask me," you replied. "she likes you a lot more than my other boyfriends."
mat shrugged like that wasn't the highest praise you could give him. "to be fair, your exes have always been shit."
"they have not!"
cody chimed in from across the table. "they have." you glared at him but he seemed unfazed. "do you want me to tally the boys you've brought home?" but he didn't even give you a chance to answer before he started listing your exes on his fingers. "there was cole who skipped your birthday because it wasn't important. then there was conrad who had the weird relationship with his sister. then there was randall who wouldn't speak to you for days on end and then text you out of the blue."
you rolled your eyes. "those don't count, those were high school boyfriends."
cody deadpanned, though you both knew he skipped one particular boyfriend who happened to be the shittiest. "oh i can skip straight to college and post college if you'd like. you've given me plenty of material to work with." so he continued. "there was yohan who didn't have a bed frame, just a mattress on the floor."
"we were in college!"
mat chimed in. "a mattress on the floor is bad, babe. you can't excuse that."
you huffed and sat back in your chair as cody kept going.
"what about peter who refused to ever get your number and only communicated through snapchat? or lance who had the armpit fetish?"
mat nearly spit out his drink. "a what? what does that even mean?"
you groaned and put your head in your hands until a new voice chimed in.
"it means that she wore a lot of tank tops when they dated, per his request. isn't that right?"
you looked up and saw the rock on her hand before you ever saw her face.
"angela," you said and tried to smile, though the poorly masked snicker made by cody told you it probably looked more like a grimace. "hey, long time no see."
"alright, that's our cue, harper," cody mumbled before him and his girlfriend left the table.
she smiled and fixed her eyes on mat. "and who is this?"
mat, as if sensing the challenge she was presenting, moved his hand from your thigh to around your shoulder. unlike meeting your grandmother, he didn't stand up or offer a hand, he just nodded and smile. "i'm mat."
"and who is 'mat?'" she asked in what she believed was a charming way.
you had to keep yourself from rolling your eyes.
"i'm her boyfriend," mat said before placing a kiss on the side of your head. it was with premature smug satisfaction that you witnessed the smile on angela's lips falter just a little. but then you remembered the times before when you introduced boyfriends to family and how angela looked at them with some sort of predatory gleam in her eyes when met with a challenge.
and mat's indifference to her was the biggest challenge of all.
a tall blond man walked over and wrapped an arm around angela's waist. "baby," he said. "i got you a drink." and he handed her a flute of champagne.
she sipped it but never took her eyes off mat.
"who're you?" owen asked. you had to keep yourself from rolling your eyes. all those years ago, you thought his blunt ways of communicating were charming, now they just grated on your nerves.
"honey, this is mat, the infamous plus one."
"boyfriend," mat corrected. "simple mistake, i get it. it's not like the rsvp's asked for a relationship definition or anything."
"how long have you two been together?" owen asked.
"a few months," you answered in unison, which immediately made angela quirk a brow. you started sweating, your hands started shaking in your lap.
almost as if sensing your nerves, mat reached over with the hand that wasn't around you shoulders, and placed it on your thigh, rubbing smooth circles into your skin.
goosebumps formed on your skin, but for an entirely different reason that a cold breeze considering it was nearly sweltering outside.
"we've been friends for awhile though," mat said. "known each other for about as long as we've been in new york."
angela hummed, but didn't seem convinced. "okay," she smiled. "enjoy the party."
when she walked away with owen in tow, you let out a sigh.
"you okay?" mat mumbled.
"that went better than i thought."
"i thought you said she was mean," mat said.
"she typically is, maybe she's changed though. it's been a minute since i came home."
mat hummed, but maybe your earlier conversations convinced him of angela's normal behavior, because he didn't seem like he believed you.
"don't hum at me," you said. "she could!"
mat shrugged and leaned back in his chair, his hand squeezed your shoulder where it rested. "okay," he said before placing a kiss on your temple. "i trust you."
the night continued on without much incident. cody got a little too drunk, but that was to be expected. your uncle, his wife, and your cousins all came by and said their hellos, but for the most part, you and mat just stayed at the table and talked.
it was moments like that when you forgot how easy it was to just be with him. you couldn't count the amount of times you found yourself sitting on his couch with your head in his lap, his hand in your hair, as you ranted about your shitty day at work or a frustrating phone call with your parents. days like that were typical with mat, because he made it so easy to just be.
you felt most like yourself when you were with him.
and sure it sounded a little codependent, but you were almost positive he was your other half.
but not in a romantic way.
never in a romantic way.
after all, he was way out of your league. the amount times he had women approach him at bars when the two of you went out were astronomical.
you were forever the friend, and you weren't really all that upset about it. so long as you had mat, you'd take him in whatever capacity he'd give you.
the night was quickly coming to an end. harper had cody's arm wrapped around her shoulder, assuring everyone she would be driving them home. mat's hand had found a new home on the small of your back as he guided you out and back towards the front door, following your parents who insisted on hugging every family member goodbye.
you felt your body lean into mat's touch and the side of his body, your own feeling drained and exhausted.
"hey," he leaned down and mumbled in your ear. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom, i'll meet you at the car?"
you looked up at him, faces close together. you were taken back to earlier when you almost kissed and for a moment, you found yourself imagining a world where you could. where you could lean up and figure out what chapstick he used.
"yeah," you stuttered out when it was clear you'd stayed quiet too long.
"great," he smiled before kissing your cheek and disappearing down the hallway.
you were immediately crowded by your mom, aunt, and to your displeasure, angela.
your cousin stumbled up to you with a bright smile on her face as both of your mothers talked to each other. "your friend was cute," she said. "wouldn't mind running away with him." she giggled, but you saw the truth in her eyes, the calculated stumbles and fake drunken smiles.
"oh, angie's had too much to drink," your aunt said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "you know how drunk people can be."
"i've always heard drunk words are sober thoughts," you stated.
your mom scoffed and waved a hand in the air. "oh honey, that's just a saying, angela doesn't mean what she says, not while she's intoxicated. after all, i have done plenty of things while drunk that i didn't mean in the morning."
you squinted at your mother, completely baffled by her excusing of angela. which, after all these years, shouldn't surprise you.
"what'd i miss?" mat popped back next to you like he was summoned.
"oh nothing--" your mother started.
"mat!" angela screamed, throwing her hands up in the air before wrapping them around his shoulders. "if i wasn't getting married tomorrow, i'd run away with you! it's too bad my cousin here didn't introduce us before!"
mat peeled her arms off his body and pushed her away as gently as he could. "before what? before you stole her high school boyfriend?"
what.
the hell.
angela's smile dropped right as your mom's and aunt's eyes widened. "and i'm not a fan of running." he grabbed your hand and pulled you out the front door, and waved down harper who was about to pull out of the driveway.
"we rode with my parents," you said, still in a daze from what he said.
"we're riding with harper and cody back," was all he said.
harper unlocked the doors for you and mat but didn't even bother asking why the two of you decided to switch rides.
the drive back to your childhood home was pretty quiet save for the country music playing softly over the radio. it wasn't your favorite genre, but you weren't going to complain.
by the time you made it home, you were exhausted. mat trailed you up the stairs after locking the front door behind him because harper mentioned something about taking cody back to their apartment instead of staying.
when he finally walked in the room, you were already changing out of your shorts. maybe it was a testament to how tired you were, or how long you had known each other that made you not give a shit about changing in front of him. you did, however, try to stay decent, so you waited until you had your pajama shirt on to remove your bra before sliding into bed.
mat had apparently walked out of the room to change while you had your back to the door because he came walking back in wearing basketball shorts and a tee shirt, like he did the other nights.
"you okay?" he asked, getting in to bed and sliding next to you. he bumped his shoulder with yours.
"why wouldn't i be?" but you wouldn't look him in the eyes.
"c'mon," he said. "you can be honest with me. i'm your best friend."
your eyes watered at his words, the ones he spoke in front of your family, and the ones he spoke just then. "thank you," was all you could get out.
he pulled you into his arms and for a moment, you were taken back to similar circumstances.
like when you watched marley and me. or when your neighbor with the cute dog moved away.
mat had always been there.
"what're you thanking me for?"
"no one's ever stood up to her like that."
mat scoffed. "i wasn't just gonna let her disrespect our relationship like that, real or fake." he kissed the top of your head. "i almost didn't say anything, wanted to keep the peace, but then i saw the look on your face and couldn't keep quiet."
"what look?"
"the kicked puppy look." you looked up at him as his thumb stroked a line on your cheek. something must've passed over your face because his thumb stopped its motion. "what?" you sighed and shook your head. "c'mon," he said. "you can tell me."
you sighed. "i just--i don't want her to take you away."
mat tilted your chin up and ducked his head down so your foreheads touched. "you're not gonna lose me, especially not to your cousin, okay?" you nodded. "i need to hear you say it, baby."
but how could you talk when he called you by pet names? how could you breathe when you could kiss him if you just lifted your chin.
damn.
did he know the effect he had on you?
"baby," he prompted.
"okay," you said. "i trust you."
"and that's all i ask." he kissed your forehead and pulled away, all too soon if anyone asked you. "now, let's watch a movie, i need to destress after tonight."
you settled into the pillows and laid your head on mat's chest as he scrolled through netflix with one hand; the other arm was wrapped around your back.
the wedding
the next two days were spent with you and mat walking around the city, nothing noteworthy happened.
but you woke up on the day of the wedding dreading what was to come.
the ceremony itself wasn't until that night, which gave you the entire day to worry about angela and mat.
his words should've comforted you, but you were too caught up in why you cared. he was your best friend, angela didn't want him that way. and mat was too loyal to let a girl come between your friendship, he never let it happen with his previous girlfriends.
but there would be times when you wouldn't be together that night. could you honestly expect mat to hang around the women's bathroom every time you needed to use it? you were lucky he got along with your brother and your grandmother as well as he did, but your grandmother would definitely leave early and cody would definitely ditch anyone in a heartbeat if it meant he'd get laid.
"you okay?" mat asked, placing his hands on your shoulders as you stared in the bathroom mirror. "you've been in here a minute. at first i thought you were taking a shit, but you left the door open." he rested his head on top of yours and made eye contact with you in the mirror.
"just stressed about tonight," you admitted.
"you got nothing to stress over, you got me, and we're not getting married. we'll just get drunk and party. sounds like a great time to me!"
"god, if i'm like this at someone else's wedding, i can't imagine what i'd be like at my own."
mat shrugged. "i wouldn't let you be stressed. i’d make sure to give you the wedding you want."
you pulled away and turned around, brows pulled together like attracting magnets. "wouldn’t that be weird though? you making sure my wedding was what i wanted?"
"considering it would be my wedding too, no i don't think it would be weird." he shrugged and said it so casually, you almost didn't register what he said. but when it sunk in, your cheeks heated up and you broke eye contact before lightly shoving him away.
"you're such a flirt," you said, hoping it wouldn't give away the way your heart raced in your chest.
"doesn't mean it isn't true!" he called after you. mat flicked on the fan and shut the door. "now watch a movie, i don't want you to hear me shit."
"we're not even in the same room, dipshit!" you laughed before heading back to your room and turning on netflix.
mat joined you after about ten minutes in the bathroom and the two of you watched a movie until your parents shouted from downstairs to start getting ready.
you got ready in the bathroom simply because that was where you makeup was. mat took the bedroom simply because it was easier. you put on your dress, fluffing out the ends to make sure no part of it was wrinkled before you started on your makeup.
you were finished rather quickly, mainly because mat kept calling your name like a child, waiting for you to fix his tie because he didn't know how to.
when you walked out of the bathroom, though, mat met you in the hallway. his eyes were focused on the tie in his hands until he heard the door open. he glanced up and his jaw dropped.
"fuck," he mumbled.
you could feel the heat going up your chest and your neck until it settled in your face. "do i look okay?"
mat swallowed and nodded. your normally chatty best friend was rendered speechless for the first time since you met him. he cleared his throat and gestured to you. "i knew buying that dress was a good move."
you rolled your eyes and smiled as you walked over to him. you took the tie out of his hand and wrapped it around his neck, tying a windsor knot until it was snug against his throat.
"i think you're trying to choke me."
you scoffed. "if you learned how to tie a tie, this wouldn't be a problem."
"if i learned how to tie a tie, i wouldn't have an excuse to be this close to you." his hands snaked around your waist and pulled your hips close to his.
"you should know you don't need an excuse to get close to me." you tried out the flirtation a little, unsure if he was joking or not, but given how his eyes lit up just a bit, you were pretty confident he was serious.
"baby--"
"sweetheart! we need to be leaving soon!" your mother called up the stairs.
you and mat sprung apart like the other had spontaneously caught on fire. neither of you would make eye contact too embarrassed to have been interrupted by your mother. though you couldn't meet each other's eyes, you managed to see mat gesture for you to go down the stairs first.
"you both look so cute!" your mother gushed as both you and mat entered the living room. "go stand in front of the fireplace! i have to get your picture."
you rolled your eyes. "mom, this isn't prom night." but mat was already tugging you over to where your mom was pointing and wrapping and arm around your waist.
your mom snapped a few pictures before hurrying the two of you and your father out the door. the wedding didn't start for another hour, but the venue was thirty minutes away and your mom wanted to make sure your aunt wasn't going to have an aneurysm.
mat held your hand as you walked down the front porch stairs towards the car. his grip was tight and firm. when you finally joined him on the sidewalk, you expected him to drop his hand, but he held onto it even tighter, lightly swinging it between your bodies.
he didn't let go until you got into the back seat of your mom's car.
he lightly chatted with your parents while you stared at the space between the two of you. the entire week had your mind whirling, you two were just friends, but sharing a bed, the physical closeness, the flirting, the near kisses, it was all driving you insane.
sure, you thought mat was good looking, but you'd long given up the hope that he'd ever like you. he was mat and you were you. even if there wasn't a large disparity between your perception of both of your physical attributes, you still would've felt the divide.
he was everything, practically your best friend.
and that alone was too important for you to risk on some juvenile feelings.
mat nudged you with his elbow. "you okay? you've been quiet."
you blinked back into the present, noting that your mother had turned on abba and was singing to dancing queen while your father hummed the tune under his breath. both of them were too distracted to notice or hear mat's question.
you nodded, meeting his eyes briefly before looking away, too scared to get caught in their orbit once more. "yeah," you said. "just thinking."
"uh oh. that's not good," he joked. but you didn't laugh. his face turned serious and he nudged you once more before grabbing your hand in his own. "you can tell me anything, you know that right?"
"of course," you replied.
he squeezed your hand twice and didn't let go until you got out of the car.
as your father pulled into the parking lot, you got a good view of the venue. a large building with tall windows and music blasting throughout the open doors.
once you got inside, your eyes were immediately overwhelmed by the visual stimulation of large flower arrangements everywhere with the most pricey looking lighting fixtures dangling from the ceiling.
it was extravagant, and everything you would've expected angela's wedding to look like.
"oh god," mat mumbled under his breath, loud enough just for you to hear. he leaned down, placing his hand on the small of your back. "remind me not to do this much at my wedding."
you rolled your eyes. "what if it's what your bride wants?"
he paused. "do you want something like this?"
"god no."
"then i don't need to worry."
you lightly shoved his shoulder. "quit joking."
"who said i was joking?" he asked.
you stared at him until your dad cleared his throat and reminded the two of you that you still needed to find your seats at the ceremony.
"honey," your mother grabbed your arm. "do you want to come with me to see angela? i'm just gonna check on her and your aunt to make sure everything is ready and together."
you were shaking your head before she could even finish getting the words out. "nope."
"honey, it's your cousin's wedding."
"and she didn't even make me a bridesmaid. i'm sure she'll be fine waiting until the reception to see me."
"i thought you weren't angry about that! i told you not to take it personal."
it took every ounce of will not to roll your eyes. mainly because mat was standing there, and if you let it slip how frustrated you were, he might step in and make your mom hate him. "i don't care, mom. but if she wanted me to see her before the wedding, she would've made her part of her bridal party. but she didn't so i'll see her when she walks down the aisle." with that off your chest, you grabbed mat's hand and marched towards the group of chairs where the ceremony would take place.
you quickly chose a seat close enough to see the actual ceremony happen without being too close that you could see angela promise her life away to the ex she stole from you.
"that was intense," mat commented. "you sure you're okay?"
you sighed and contemplated putting your face in your hands if it wasn't for the makeup you put on earlier. "i don't know why she wants me and angela to act like we're best friends, it's gone on like this for our entire lives, but it's never worked. angela has never liked me, and i'm tired of pretending like it's my fault. i don't even know what i did to make her constantly try to undermine me."
mat looked around before grabbing your hand and tugging you towards what you guessed were the bathrooms, away from the prying eyes of nosy guests.
"it's not your fault," he said, bending down so you could look each other in the eyes. "there's nothing wrong with you, either, okay? she's blind if she can't see how amazing you are. and your mom is wrong for trying to force a friendship. you understand?"
you nodded.
"i need to hear you say it, baby."
"i understand." a beat later. "thanks, mat."
he kissed your forehead and grabbed your hand. "anytime."
the two of you found your old seats taken by an older couple, so you sat in the same row as cody and harper who had shown up while you were gone.
the wedding started shortly thereafter with your parents joining you in the same row. your mother looked relatively calm for what you knew had to be a shitshow in the back room. angela was very particular, and while there was nothing wrong with that were it anyone else, your cousin's strong opinions often stressed your mother and aunt out.
the music started playing and the bridesmaids started walking down the aisle with the groomsmen and owen. you didn't recognize most of the girls, probably because you hadn't been around angela's friends since high school and you never came to her birthday parties after you graduated (not that she invited you anyway). the one bridesmaid you did recognize was meredith from the dress shop. she looked beautiful in her lilac dress. and her smile did nothing to giveaway what chaos the dressing room was in before she walked out.
with everyone in their places at the front, the music changed tune. every guest, including you, stood to their feet and turned around. everyone watched as the double doors opened and angela came walking down the aisle in a princess gown with her father escorting her.
she smiled brightly, probably basking in the attention she was receiving. she didn't even look at owen until she got close enough to the front that there was no one else for her to smile at.
i'd do it differently, you thought. when i get married, i won't be able to take my eyes off his face.
the officiant told everyone to sit and continued on with the ceremony. you mostly blocked it out, peering at mat who looked more interested in the ceremony than you were. he caught your stare a few times and smirked before grabbing hold of your hand and kissing the back of it.
and your heart soared every time.
mat was an affectionate friend, this much you knew. anytime you picked him up from a roadie, or when he came over after you just got back into town, he'd hold you in a death grip hug for five minutes at the very least. most of the hugs involved the two of you swaying side to side with mat mumbling how much he missed you into your neck.
all that to say, you weren't a stranger to his affection.
you were, however, unused to the kisses and pet names, all of which started as soon as you introduced him to your family.
it was the crowd cheering that startled you out of your stupor. you glanced at the front to see owen dipping angela in a kiss while the photographer captured the moment.
and maybe it was the bitterness in your chest speaking for the teenager who lost her first serious boyfriend, but the kiss itself looked more performative than like true love.
mat extended a hand to you when you realized everyone was standing and heading to the tables to eat.
"you alright?" he asked once your hand was secured in his own. "you keep zoning out."
you shrugged. "just thinking."
"about?"
"how do you know if you love someone?" you asked, replaying angela and owen's kiss in your mind. you were so preoccupied, you didn't notice mat scratching the back of his head and blushing.
"well, you uh," he stuttered. "why're you asking me? haven't you been in love before?"
he wouldn't meet your eyes, his own kept focusing on avoiding bumping into people as you made your way to an open table. mat pulled your chair out and didn't sit down until you did.
"i don't know," you continued on. "i thought i was, but i never saw forever with those guys."
"thank god," he mumbled.
"what?"
he looked up all doe eyed and innocent. "hm?"
"what did you say?"
he shrugged. "i didn't say anything. you must be hearing things."
you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips said you weren't really bothered by his lies.
cody and harper joined you at the table; your parents took the last two seats. all six of you sipped at the water on the table and waited for your dinners to be ready.
"so," harper started. "what did everyone think of the ceremony?"
you could've groaned, not because you weren't interested in weddings, you loved them.
just not angela's.
and talking about all the beautiful aspects of it sounded like a violation of your eighth amendment rights.
"oh it was so gorgeous, she looked fantastic," your mother supplied, fawning over your cousin as usual. but it was when she looked around the room before she leaned into the table that your attention was piqued. "patty was scared the wedding would need to be called off. said something about how owen was getting cold feet, she wouldn't say why though."
were you a horrible person for internally rejoicing at angela's possible stressor?
maybe just a little.
but you'd taken the high road your entire life. so in your opinion, it was warranted and earned.
mat nudged your knee with his. "at least look concerned," he mumbled with a smirk playing on his lips.
"i do! i am!" you said just loud enough for him to hear. mat looked at you until you cracked under his gaze. "okay, so i might be just a little smug, sue me."
he rolled his eyes, but the smile playing on his lips said he was far from annoyed.
your family continued to make idle chatter until the dj started announcing the bridal party. it wasn't anything that hadn't been done before; the bridesmaids and groomsmen danced their way into the room. moments later, angela and owen came in with their hands riased and cheering along with everyone else. your entire table joined in with the other guests and clapped and hollered until it was no longer socially acceptable.
dinner came out shortly thereafter.
again, it was nothing that hadn't been done before. a simple pasta dish with a side salad wasn't anything to celebrate. the food was absolutely delicious, you wouldn't lie about that, it was just interesting that angela, who prided herself on being different, had planned a party that didn't even crack your top ten favorite weddings.
but she'd never sought your approval anyway, so why would she start now?
you were shocked out of your intense thoughtfulness by an arm wrapping around your shoulder. mat didn't even look phased as he pulled you just a little closer to him, talking with your dad about the upcoming season like they'd been friends for ages.
the weight of his arm was comforting, reminding you of times he'd slung it across your shoulders after a game and pressed a kiss to your temple or when you sat next to each other at bars.
others had looked at your relationship with a microscope. sydney and grace both had asked multiple times if there was something more with the two of you and looked skeptical whenever you gave them a funny look while saying no.
he was your best friend, always would be so long as you never fucked anything up.
"how's your pasta?" mat asked.
you blinked. "same as yours."
he rolled his eyes yet again and kissed your temple. "smart ass," he mumbled against your skin.
dinner was barely over when music started playing, marking the sign of the first dance. angela and owen danced to "can't help falling in love" while everyone looked on. they didn't talk, they seldom even smiled until, like they were suddenly struck by electricity, they remembered they were being photographed and had all eyes on them.
you bided your time, sipping the water in your glass, because you knew mat was gonna drag your ass onto the dance floor like he had before at other parties and weddings.
sure enough, as soon as the song ended and the party music started, mat's hand was in yours, tugging you towards the center of the floor.
you dragged your feet as a front, just wanting to prolong the feeling of his palm encircling your own. you didn't know the name of the song, just like you didn't understand the light feeling in your stomach when mat pulled you close and placed his hands on your waist.
"in case i forgot to tell you," he shouted into your ear over the pumping music. "you look really pretty tonight."
you could feel the heat crawl up your neck. you ducked your head so you couldn't see him, but he pulled your chin up to look him in the eyes.
"don't get shy on me now," he teased, though his eyes weren't full of mirth like they usually were. they were soft, like sunlight filtered through a bedroom window. "come dance with me."
the two of you danced, hips shaking and moving to the beat of the music. mat always had a grip on you, whether he was twirling you around or had both hands on your hips.
you couldn't remember ever having this much fun at a wedding.
who would've thought it would've been angela's wedding?
but the music slowed down, usually signaling that it was your time to sit back down until hey ya! came on. so you made a move to step off the dance floor and head back to where your brother sat nursing a glass of bourbon, but it was a callused hand that kept you in place.
"where do you think you're going, baby?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. "you owe me a dance."
you hesitated, knowing that in the past, you'd danced the night away, but with him here, in front of your family, with your grandmother giving you a smile, you didn't know you could fake it any longer. you couldn't keep pretending that you weren't completely infatuated, overcome with love for your best friend.
your hand would've started shaking had he not had a steady grip on you.
mat pulled you close. "c'mon, i won't even step on your toes. i promise."
you relented and let him pull you back into the middle of the floor. he placed his hands on your waist and, for a moment, you thought you were dreaming. in another life, you'd be wearing white and be the prettiest person in the room. in another life, you'd have matching gold bands on your fourth fingers.
in another life, he'd be yours.
you wrapped your hands around the back on his neck, playing with the hair there absentmindedly.
"you're far away," he said. "come back to earth for a minute. what're you thinking about?"
you shrugged. "wondering if i'll ever get this," you answered honestly, even going as far as looking him in the eyes as you spoke.
"you'll get it," he said without a doubt in the world to be found. "i'll make sure of it."
"what about you? do you want something like this?"
he glanced around the room, eyes landing on the newly married couple in the center. "not if i'm not marrying you."
you blinked, heart in your throat. he looked so honest, but you'd known him long enough, seen who he's dated too many times, to know he was joking.
he had to be.
right?
so you laughed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back so that you unintentionally missed the small look of confusion married with hurt on mat's face. you did it to protect yourself, to keep yourself from getting hurt, and unintentionally hurting him in the process.
"i can never tell when you're joking, barzy," you smiled, hoping it covered the shake in your voice.
"but i--"
"may i cut in?" you glanced to your left and saw your smiling grandmother.
"oh i--" mat stuttered, flustered in a way you'd never seen before.
"sure!" you interrupted his train of thought. "i have to pee anyway."
besides, mat was probably safest with her anyway. angela wouldn't try anything while your grandmother was standing there.
you stepped away, waist feeling cold from the lack of contact and made your way towards the bathrooms.
it wasn't that hard to find the restroom, it was just a longer hallway. but it was far enough from the reception that the music was only a faint bass noise.
you walked into the bathroom and did your business. fluffing your hair and fixing your dress in the mirror when you'd finished washing your hands. you opened the door and saw shiny black shoes before you saw the man standing across from the woman's bathroom.
"owen?" you asked. "the men's bathroom is a little further down the hall."
"i know," he said, pushing off the wall to move closer to you.
red flag.
"what?" you asked, moving slightly out of the way so he couldn't push you back into the bathroom. "have you been drinking?"
"sober as a judge."
you furrowed your brows. "what?"
he took another step closer to you while you quickly turned so your back was no longer against a wall, but towards the party. if he kept advancing towards you, the weird tension would soon be out in the open and surely he would stop then.
right?
"i'm sorry for what i did back in high school."
"owen, what are you talking about?"
"for cheating on you. you're all i've ever wanted and it's my biggest regret to this day that i ever let you go."
you were gonna be sick.
"owen, you don't know what you're talking about. you love angela. you got married to angela. she is your wife."
"but i want you." he reached out to touch your hair but you backed up quick enough to just miss his hand.
"no you don't," you said. "you decided i wasn't enough nearly ten years ago."
"but you looked so good and so happy with him, with max or whatever his name is--"
"--mat--"you corrected.
"--it made me miss us. don't you miss me?"
"i don't even know who you are anymore, owen! that person you knew in high school isn't me anymore, and you don't get to decide you want me now just because i'm happy and you aren't."
"we were so good together!"
"we were sixteen, owen! we were children."
"but--"
"i gave you just about everything i could possibly give, and you decided it wasn't enough. you decided to get with my cousin while we were dating instead of breaking up with me. you decided to marry her. and now you get to live with that decision." you spun on your heel and were met with mat's stare. even in the dim lighting, you could see his jaw clenched.
"mat," you breathed like it was your last breath.
"you okay?" he asked.
"yeah," you said. "just telling owen where the bathroom was."
you both knew it was a lie, especially if the look on mat's face was any indication, he'd probably heard enough of the conversation. you allowed yourself to be guided back to the recpetion with mat's hand firmly placed on the small of your back.
you two kept dancing until it was time to send angela and owen off. while mat gathered your things, you said goodbye to your extended family members because you two were leaving tomorrow afternoon to head back to new york.
which scared you.
this last week had been amazing. pretending and playing house with mat meant unlocking feelings you'd pretended didn't exist for the entire duration of your friendship. and while you wished you'd never unlocked pandora's box, part of you was happy you could never go back.
a warm and weathered hand tugged on your forearm and snapped you out of your reverie. "don't let that boy go." when you looked down, your grandmother was staring at you with earnest eyes. "he loves you the way you deserve to be loved."
your eyes welled up with tears as you hugged her. "thanks, grandma."
"i mean it. don't come back without him, you hear me? i need great grand babies soon."
you flushed at the idea and whined. "please don't tell me you said that to him!"
but she didn't answer you, she just laughed.
"you ready?" mat asked, walking over with your brother and harper following closely behind. "cody said he'd give us a ride home."
"treat my baby right, mathew," your grandmother said. "or else i'll have to fly to new york and kill you, you hear?"
he smiled. "yes ma'am."
you hugged your grandmother tight. "i love you."
"love you more."
mat ushered you outside, following behind cody and harper to their car. none of you were interested in the send off, even if was only going to take a few seconds.
the four of you got into cody's car and drove off before your parents could admonish you for leaving early. cody and harper talked amongst themselves about bills and what their own wedding would look like whenever cody proposed (and if you knew him like you thought you did, it would be soon) while you and mat just held hands in the backseat.
it was weird, the physical touch even when no one was looking. but you weren't complaining about it, if anything, you were clinging to it, scared that once it finally ended you'd go into withdrawal.
cody parked outside of your parents house and let you and mat in before driving off. you headed upstairs, with mat on your tail, ready to get undressed and to curl up in bed with a stupid movie.
"that was fun," mat said. "did you have fun?"
you sat down on your bed and started taking off your shoes. "i always have fun when i'm with you," you said absentmindedly. a moment of silence passed. you looked up to see mat shifting from side to side. "are you okay?"
"what did owen want?" he asked honestly.
you sighed and stood up, walking towards him. "i'm not even sure. he started professing how much he missed me, but i shut it down because i don't have feelings for him."
a glimmer of hope. "you don't?"
"nope."
he nodded. "good."
you took a deep breath and stepped closer to him. "i could never go through with it anyway, i'm in love with someone else." please please please don't let this past week be a joke to him. please let him be a horrible actor.
he stared at you.
a moment of silence.
his eyes searched your own, like they were looking for something.
you could feel the tears well up in your eyes at the thought of his rejection. you'd take being heartbroken, but you couldn't take losing your best friend.
and then.
his hands were on your cheeks, his lips were on yours, and your heart had jumped into your throat. your arms wrapped around his neck and into his hair.
when you finally broke apart for air, mat was smiling. "i'm guessing you were talking about me?" he asked, though the smug tone in his voice said he didn't actually need to know the answer. not when the kiss had already confirmed his suspicions.
"you're such an ass," you jokingly shoved him away, but he caught your hand and used it to pull you back in, to kiss you once more.
"but this ass loves you." he paused. "that sounded a lot more romantic in my head than it did coming out."
but you smiled anyway. "this ass loves you too, barzy."
and two years later, standing in front of everyone in a white dress, you couldn't help but smile. lying usually got you in trouble, but you couldn't have imagined a better ending.
3K notes · View notes
exhaslo · 7 months
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Kinktober Day 28-Gynecologist!Miguel x Nervous!Reader (Teasing/Fingering)
*Requested by reader ;) Also, early update due to working both jobs tmw*
        It was that time of year again for you. It was always a nerve racking experience since you always worried about anything being wrong with you. After a long shower, you changed into a fresh pair of clothing, ready for your appointment. The fear of you smelling or sweating or anything for that matter made you nervous. It was just a regular checkup. Nothing changed from last year, so there was going to be nothing wrong.
        Besides, your friend, Lyla, worked at the gynecologist as an assistant. She always helped you calm down. Lyla even tried to set you up with one of her friends. A handsome man named, Miguel O'Hara. You had dated him a few times and found him very attractive. If only you weren't so timid. During those dates you barely uttered a word, just a small squeak here or there. You were honestly surprised that he even asked you out a few more times. 
        You were starting to get comfortable with him. Perhaps on your next date you could ask him about his job and his likes. Miguel was so kind. He was defiantly your type. You even thought about him at night. Gasping lowly, you slapped your cheeks. Now was not a good time to think about Miguel. It would be embarrassing to be wet for your checkup.
"(Y/n)~ Come on in!" Lyla chirped, motioning you inside.
        You took your regularly deep breathes, slowly following Lyla's lead. You friend gave you a quick hug before leading you into a private room. Lyla hummed as she closed the door and asked the routine questions.
"Alright, and did the front desk girl tell you about the new gyno? I hope so,"
"S-She did. I was okay with it being...a male," You whispered, trying to hide your stutter. Lyla just curled her lips into a smile,
"Don't worry, (Y/n)! You'll be perfectly fine! Anyway, how's it going with Miguel?" She asked, changing the topic. Your eyes lit up,
"T-Thank you again for giving me his n-number! He...He is really kind...and sweet. He doesn't r-rush me when I try...try to talk to him," You explained, "He doesn't mind me texting him....instead."
"I told you he was a good one!" Lyla grinned from ear to ear, "He likes you a lot too~"
"H-He does?!"
        Lyla chuckled at your flustered expression. Upon hearing a knock at the door, Lyla hummed as she got you ready. You were getting nervous again. She helped you relax before opening the door.
"Hello, Miss-(Y/n)??" Miguel paused as he stared at you. You squeaked in response before turning to Lyla.
"Oh, totally forgot to mention that Miguel is your new doctor~" She said with a wide grin, "Now I know I'm supposed to stay in here with you both, buuuuuut you guys know each other~ Bye!"
        Just like that, Lyla left both you and Miguel alone. Your face was a million shades of red as you tried to fit your gown, recalling that you were naked in front of the man you were dating. Miguel cleared his throat as he took a seat by the computer. He glanced over your files before turning towards you.
"This must be awkward," He started and read your body language, "Would you like your phone to text me?"
        You nodded violently in response. Miguel resisted a chuckle and went to your pile of clothes on the separate chair and looked for your phone. He glanced at your panties, restraining himself. He gave you the phone and grabbed his, waiting for your response. A smile on his face as he watched you. You were so cute. Someone worth his time. Someone worth his love. Miguel would do anything to keep you happy and relaxed.
'Did you know I was going to be your patient?' You texted him. Miguel glanced at the message,
"No, I just started here two days ago. I don't want to make you uncomfortable, I can get another doctor." He replied. You hesitated before typing,
'No, it's okay. I was just surprised. Sorry if I made you uncomfortable.'
"Not at all," Miguel chuckled lowly and stood from his seat, "Just let me know when you want me to start. I'll take as much time as you need."
        Your eyes soften as you looked at Miguel. You remembered when you first met him. He was so tall and seemed so threatening. Putting your phone to the side, you played with your fingers as you took a deep breathe. You looked into Miguel's eyes and gave him a nod, allowing him to start.
        Miguel was slow and gentle. He asked you to raise your right arm before moving your gown. He watched your facial expressions, making sure that everything was okay. You whimpered quietly as his large hand took ahold of your breast, gently massaging it to check for any lumps. Normally, you would just tremble as the doctor checked you, but this was different. This was Miguel touching you. Something you only dreamed of. Not only was he making you shake from nervousness, but also giving you those dirty thoughts.
"All good on this side, now for the other." Miguel's hand gently trailed your back as he repeated the process on your other breast, "You're shaking, are you okay?"
"Y-Yes," You whispered lowly.
        You inhaled deeply as you tried not to focus on Miguel touching you. He was just doing his job. So what if his large hands felt good as they massaged your breasts. So what if he was more gentle with you than your previous doctors. So what if he smelled amazing? You were here for a check up, not to fantasize on him railing you. It wasn't like you were up for such a task anyway.
"Alright, you're all good there, no lumps. Now for the main part, just let me know when you're ready by propping your legs up for me, okay?" Miguel told you, rubbing your shoulder.
        God, he was so fine. You gave him a nod, watching as he got his gloves and tool ready. Now this, you were embarrassed about. You always hated this part. You could feel your heart about to leap out of your chest. Miguel was about to look at your pussy. You haven't even kissed the man yet and you were about to skip a bunch of steps. It was hard to think about his job now. All you could focus on was Miguel examining your wet pussy.
"U-Um," You gulped, reaching for your phone. Miguel handed it to you,
"Want some water?" He offered.
'No, I'm just...please be gentle with me. I know this is your job, but I can't help but feel even more nervous since we're dating.' You texted him. Miguel looked at his phone and chuckled lowly,
"Have I ever told you how cute you are?" He said, switching his glove, "I won't judge. How could I?" He gave you that sweet smile you loved.
        Nodding once more as he stole your breathe away, you got ready. You placed your feet in the little prompt set up they have and spread your legs. A shiver ran up your spine as the cold air hit your pussy. Miguel tighten his gloves and sat on his chair, rolling towards you. You bit your lower lip as he sat directly in front of your cunt, spreading your legs out even more. This was just a check up. Just a check up and nothing more.
        Miguel withheld a groan as he noticed your cunt already wet. Despite your nervousness, it seemed like you were practically excited for him to be looking at you, to be touching you. This was turning him on. Normally, Miguel would get these over with since every other girl would not hesitate to spread their legs for him. Miguel was loving this change of pace. He was loving everything you did. Miguel wanted to hear your voice. A voice only for his ears.
"Alright, let me know if anything feels uncomfortable. I'm just going to feel around for anything, okay?"
"O-Okay," You stuttered.
        Miguel had to bite his cheek. He proceeded to enter a finger inside you, with holding a groan at how tight you were. So wet and so tight, just for him. As he felt around your velvet walls for anything strange, Miguel could not help but hear a quiet whimper coming from you. He glanced at your expression, watching as you closed your eyes and biting your lower lip. God, Miguel was going to lose his patience with you. He knew that you were only like this because it was him. Lyla had told him about how difficult it was for other doctors to even touch your breasts. The fact that you were letting him do this was just so tempting.
"How are you doing?" Miguel asked. You gasped lowly as he pressed his finger up,
"F-Fine," You said, shaking from his touch.
        Miguel's finger was just exploring your insides for anything out of the ordinary. It wasn't like he was actually fingering you. However, his finger was so thick and it was making you hot. You tried to think of something else, but the idea of Miguel doing more was turning you on. You whimpered lowly as you felt yourself clench against his finger. Why did these thoughts have to come now? Miguel was just doing his job and here you were getting horny.
"I'm going to insert the tool now. It will feel uncomfortable for only a second, okay?" He told you.
        You just nodded in response and followed his orders. Once he finished with the tool, Miguel approached you. He was so close. Miguel took his gloves off, bringing his hand to your cheek,
"You did so good for me. Are you okay?" He asked you. 
"Y-Yes," You told him and rubbed your legs slightly, "U-Um...S-Sorry...But...I..."
        Miguel raised a brow and read your body language. Your perky nipples and the juices that were streaming down your cunt were just all so tempting. He glanced into your eyes that screamed, 'fuck me'. Knowing that he couldn't or he would lose his job, Miguel inhaled deeply. He leaned down to peck your lips,
"Can I just say, that you are so goddamn tempting?" He whispered, enjoying your expressions, "I know what you want, and I can't give it to you here...But I can help release that tension."
"P-Please?" You nearly squeaked.
        Miguel nearly cussed. He returned to his chair, sitting directly in front of your poor, lonely cunt. He leaned forward and blew against it, watching you twitch. A smile formed against his lips as he entered two fingers this time. He stood up and pumped his fingers inside you, watching your face contort in pleasure. You were so tight for him. So needy. 
"I want to hear your voice later tonight, could you do that for me?" Miguel whispered in your ear as his fingers pumped into you.
"Hah...hah....Y-Yes....I can," You whimpered a soft moan, raising your hips slightly. 
        Miguel hummed happily and curled his fingers right at your sweet spot. Your body arched as you grinded your hips against his hand. Miguel quickly swallowed your moans with a kiss, not wanting anyone to hear you. As much as he wanted to hear those sweet moans, he knew that if he did, he would fuck you right here and now. Feeling your pussy tighten against his fingers, Miguel curled his fingers again. You held onto him as you reached your orgasm.
"That's it. That's my good girl," Miguel whispered, removing his fingers and licking them, "Taste so sweet. I'll have to reward you later,"
"M-Mig," You whispered, panting softly as you sat up. You reached for you phone, 'Want to come over to my place after work?' You texted him. Miguel glanced at his phone,
"Wouldn't miss it for the world." He leaned down to kiss you again, "Get dressed. I'll see you later."
        You smiled softly as Miguel left. Quickly putting your clothes back on, you noticed that your panties were missing. Your face turned a million shades of red, knowing that Miguel must have swiped them. You whined softly before grabbing your phone.
'Please bring my panties back!'
'Sure, when I see you tonight.'
2K notes · View notes
uranometrias · 20 days
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✮ꜜ : ❛ now i see daylight : spencer reid x fem! reader
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pairing: spencer reid x fem! reader
summary: three weeks have gone by since your last encounter with reid. you'd both been doing an exceptional job of pretending that the other didn't exist. you felt like it was only fair. he didn't have the right to talk to you any type of way, and you supposed in his mind, you didn't have the right to behave so jealously. three weeks of no ground being made, that is, of course, until a conversation with rossi helps to screw your head on straight
content warnings: love confessions. reader definitely has anxiety and a fear of romance/relationships, BUT she fights her fear! i also think it's fair to say that she views telling spencer about her feelings as facing her fear, regardless of his response! this is part two to 'guilt is a motherfucker'.... i'm so sorry it's taken forever, but i've actually preparing to enlist in the army && haven't had a lot of down time. i've got 10 drafts to prove it, but i tried my best to make this longer than part one, and i hope that you guys enjoy it.
Grow up.
Those words had haunted you for about three weeks. It'd been that long since the day you and Spencer had sort of... drifted apart. You refused to blame yourself, despite knowing full well this whole ordeal was majorly your fault. Okay, all of the blame very well rested on your shoulders, but you were stubborn. You'd been that way forever.
Maybe you were the childish, scared, and jealous little girl he'd accused you of being. That wasn't your job to figure out, because he had no business speaking to you that way. Who did he think he was? You could hit him right in his stupid little face. That last thought of violence seems to follow you.
Especially as you sat as your desk, leg bouncing furiously underneath as you counted the seconds until he was away from the kitchenette. Your cup of coffee was dwindling, and you still had a few more files to get through, before you'd give yourself room to slack off. You needed more caffeine, but the newfound thorn in your side was taking up space, using up all the sugar as he made his third cup of the day.
A more mature person might have questioned why you didn't just go up there anyway. He didn't own the kitchenette, and it wasn't like you had to say anything at all. It was meant to be cut-and-dry, you were both mature adults, you could interact as such. Except neither of you were quite as mature as you affronted. You could just picture the screwed up expression he'd offer you if you chose to approach.
You were certain your face was already twisted up, showing off your own annoyance, and he wasn't even near you.
You'd been berated by Derek, Emily, and Penelope over your petty streak, all three parties really driving in the point that you were behaving like a toddler throwing a tantrum. They had a point, but you also refused to accept any such criticism about your behavior. Partly, because you hated correction, and you didn't want to think about the possibility that all of your friends were on his side.
But you think most of your refusal to accept your part from any of them had a lot to do with the fact that they weren't the ones who'd been so callously humiliated, and they weren't the ones with feelings for someone who obviously knew, and was perfectly content flaunting such knowledge right in your face.
God, you could punt him like a football.
You needed to work on your insult creativity, these were starting to get repetitive. You shake all thoughts of assault out of your mind as Dave begins to approach your desk. Rossi wasn't stupid, he like everyone else had noticed the significant decline in attention passed between you, and Reid. But unlike the rowdier members of the team, he and JJ had elected to go the route of silent but deadly.
They'd cast the both of you disapproving looks when in rare form you'd allowed your spat to affect your job. Their clear disappointment in you exceptionally loud. Times like those were sparce, you really only ever objected obedience when Hotch insisted on partnering the both of you up. Which had luckily become much more rare in the last few weeks.
"Still pouting, angioletto?" he asks, and his ability to read right through you seems to make your pout deepen. "It's been three weeks, don't you think it's time to talk about it or move on?" he questions, and there's no judgement there. It's what you like the most about Rossi, he seemed to have fallen into the role of paternal figure incredibly well. He gave you the tough love that you often needed.
But he never disrespected your boundaries, he never went too far. He'd always say just enough to nudge you in the right direction.
"Maybe." you agree, and it's true. You know it's time to put this situation behind you in one way or another, but you refused to cave first. You didn't want to give Spencer the satisfaction of it, and once again you're made aware of just how petty you really were. "But I don't want to." you voice this thought to Dave, who offers an unamused expression. You narrow your eyes in his direction.
"He's the one that started it..." you exclaim your side for the umpteenth time. Rossi's expression doesn't morph, but there is a bit of disappointment swimming in his eyes. It makes you avert your gaze quickly, you could feel the first pinpricks of guilt slicing at you. "It's true." you insist. Rossi waves a tired hand at you, ushering you to proceed, and you find yourself grateful for the chance to vent.
Everyone else knew too much about the behind the scenes to let you get a word in edgewise. Rossi was basically a clean slate. "If he knew all along, what he thinks he knows..." you stop long enough to look towards the kitchenette. He's still there, which is a relief, you'd be pissed if somehow he managed to overhear this. "Then why would he come over here and flaunt it. Was he trying to rub it in?" you demand.
Silly you for thinking that Rossi would be any less on your ass than the rest of the team. He was David Rossi after all, one of the founders of the BAU, a smart man that could read you like a picture book. "You finished?" he asks, and your mouth parts. You weren't finished, but you don't tell him that, he looked like he was ready to lecture. You offer a curt nod, and he hums under his breath.
"What exactly were you expecting from him, Y/N?" he asks, and you blanche. You weren't expecting anything, you'd never expected anything from Spencer. "I mean just stick with me here... put yourself in his shoes for one second." he prompts, and you huff. Those were big shoes, probably uncomfortable. Still, you play along as you wait for Rossi to proceed. "Would you wait around for two years for someone to finally realize that they want to be with you?" he asks.
You hope that it's rhetorical, because the answer for you was probably a lot different than the one he was expecting. You also feel the urge to correct him, you didn't take two years to figure out you liked him, you'd known since your first day. Your issue was verbalizing it, because you cared about your bond. Spencer was nice, he was the sweetest person you'd ever met. You liked seeing him get excited about the things no one else seemed to care about. He was different.
He was your friend, and you had always admired him.
"I wasn't making him wait..." you voice the correction. "And I didn't need time to realize anything..." you trail off, and realization seems to set in for Rossi. He sighs deeply, head shaking as you continue on your tangent. "I liked him back when all the girls in the unit still looked at him like he was some freak, and I'm not saying it entitles me to anything... I'm the dummy for being a chicken, but he didn't have to be so mean." and you're certain that's the root of it all.
Your feelings were hurt.
"Ah, well haven't you heard? Boys are quite stupid." Rossi offers, and you think he only said it to get you to laugh. It works, because you do chuckle, and it makes Dave's shoulders relax just slightly. "Talk to him, Y/N." he presses, and you find yourself looking across the bullpen. "It's the right thing to do." and you know he's right. "And who knows, it might even wind up being for the best." he offers, and you blanch. You nod your head, and Rossi beams proudly.
"You're right." you agree audibly, and you're fidgeting in your chair.
"You are coming this Friday aren't you?" Rossi pries, and you've gone nonverbal, head nodding once more as he mimics your action. "See if you guys can't get this squared away before then, won't you?" he asks, and he's leaving you with a gentle pat on the shoulder. You stare after Rossi with a mixture of disdain and appreciation. Leave it to the old man to get you off your ass. Your eyes are drawn to Spencer as he draws closer, you know he's not coming to you.
It was a byproduct of your desk location, but it wouldn't hurt to use it to your advantage. When he's within earshot, you take the first step. "Spence?" you try, and you expect him to ignore you, to keep walking like the sassy bastard that he is, but he shocks you. He seems to mirror your feelings with his own surprised expression. "Can we talk?" you try, and it's the cliche thing... but you don't have it in you to be poetic. He stops abruptly, head nodding stiffly as he does so.
You feel like you need to stand up, having him stand over you feels too much like you're being cornered or something of the sort. He takes a small step back when you do so though, and the tension seems to only grow tenfold. You mask your disappointment in his retreat easily, instead standing up a bit straighter, sticking your chin out as you prepare to bite the bullet and be the bigger woman. It was utterly humiliating having to bring yourself back to Earth like this.
"Sure." he finally verbally answers your question, you take that as a cue to get on with it. Your patience for back and forth seemed almost as thin as his.
"Maybe it's three weeks too late..." you begin, and his eyebrows furrow. "And I know we've got this new rhythm of pretending we don't exist to each other," and his face betrays how wrong he finds that statement. His face pinches up like he's smelled something bad, and he wants to remind you that the only reason you hadn't spoken was because you hadn't had the guts to own up to the fact that you had feelings for him, but he digresses. He wasn't here to pick a fight.
"But, I'm sorry...." you spit the apology out and it feels hollow. You know you have to do better, so you proceed before he can shoot you a disapproving glance. "I really am." you insist, and despite the fact that you had only just begun to feel guilty about the whole thing in the last few minutes, you meant it. "I never should've acted like that, and I never should have let this go on for so long." you express.
Across the bullpen, Rossi, Penelope, Derek, and Emily are huddled up watching the exchange, not so discreetly. You're none the wiser to your growing audience, but Spencer sees them clearly. Not that they were really aiming for subtlety. "It's not my business what you do outside of work or who you do it with." and your nose curls, mostly because you want it to be your business. You want to be valid in your aggravation, more than that you wanted to be his. How annoying.
Your leg starts to shake just barely, and you look like you'll crumble to the ground at any moment. Spencer notices all of these ticks, and stores them into the part of his brain that's full of things specific to you. "So I'm sorry that I was being a jerk." you offer, and Spencer's face doesn't show any signs of whether or not he believed you, so you continue. "I'm happy for you." you clear your throat, and feel embarrassment setting in.
"Thanks, Y/N." his head tips to the right as he appraises you, his eyes narrowing slightly as he takes you in. It's not a menacing sort of glance. He seemed to be waiting for something else, you weren't sure what more could be put into your apology, there was no way you were about to give an outright confession, that'd be humiliating. Instead, you avert your gaze, and it seems to be enough of an answer to whatever internal question he had. "That actually means a lot."
You don't smile, mostly because you're not sure what the actually means, he seems to notice the way your expression changes just slightly, and he's quick to correct himself.
"I just mean that your approval does mean a lot to me." he says, and you relax. You can't quite beam, you're still not up for it, but you offer a small smile, one that could count more as a grimace than anything else, but you weren't in the headspace to monitor your facial expressions. You were growing bothered all over again, and you had to do everything in your power to ensure that this time things didn't end with another three-week break between you and Spencer.
"Really?"
Spencer's nose curls now, he's an expressive guy. His facials said a lot more than his words could at times, and you note that this particular expressions reads somewhere between confused and surprised. Those were almost synonyms in the grand scheme of things, right? "Is that a real question?" Spencer asks, and despite the tension that hung over you at the start of the conversation, with this question you witness the way his guard drops. It was liberating in a way.
"I asked it didn't I?" you quip, but there's no real bite behind your words. Spencer seems to note this, lips pressing together firmly.
"You're important to me." he promises, and you hate that his first reaction is to validate you. Your anxiety-riddled mind would convince you that he secretly thought you were fishing for praise, which was the farthest thing from the truth. Still, you love Spencer, platonically and otherwise, and you're certain that's why you're mimicking his words back to him so quickly.
"You're important to me too."
He takes a second to stare at you, and you stare right back. You're careful not to show any signs of timidity or awkwardness, things were finally starting to look up. "I..." he begins, and you stay silent to allow him the time he needs to get whatever was on his chest off. "I'm sorry." he says, and you're surprised. It was the last thing you'd expected from this conversation, you're certain your surprise is evident plain as day on your face.
"Yeah?" you feel it's only fair to press him onward.
"Jealous little girl." he cringes as he repeats it, and you wince because it still hurts. "That was-" he shakes his head. "It was out of line. Plain and simple, I guess I was just a little frustrated, but that's not your fault. It wasn't fair of me to come at you in that way." he begins to ramble. "I wouldn't want you to feel... mocked or belittled by me." and you blink. Mostly because that was exactly how you had felt, but how did he know. It's then that you finally feel the beady-eyed stares.
You look over your shoulder just in time to witness the group dispersing, Penelope grasping a file in her hand as she scurried in the opposite direction. Derek picking up a file folder, and Emily focusing all her attention on the drink sloshing around her mug. You really hate profilers, this is the loudest thought in your head as you turn back to Spencer. "It doesn't matter if I felt justified then, or even if I feel justified about it now." and it makes you snort.
Classic Spence.
"D-Do you forgive me? Are we okay?" he asks, and his voice has grown a bit fainter. If you listen hard enough you hear the echoes of the Spencer you first met. Even with all his strides, and the confidence he gained, there was still that small part of him that felt like the nerdy boy that everyone overlooked. The one that talked too much, and was constantly silenced with looks or snide remarks whenever he rambled for too long about some niche subject.
You think this train of thought is what gets you to see Rossi's point of view. And who were you to get in the way of someone who clearly was ready for someone as amazing as Spencer. You didn't know much about the woman, aside from the fact that she was constantly making coffee, and staring at Spencer. You didn't know how long she'd worked at the bureau, you didn't even know her name, but you knew that she was brave. She knew what she wanted and got it.
Unlike you.
You suppose 'snooze you lose' is your burden to carry from this ordeal. At least you'd gotten your friend back though. And that was enough, it could be anyway. You nod your head at his question, offering a half smile. "We're okay, Spence." you promise, and he seems relieved. His smile is one of those rare ones, the gorgeous kind that Spencer reserved for special occasions. He then visibly and audibly lets out a quiet sound of relief, and it makes you relax.
"Hey, Spence, can I get your help?" JJ is calling, and your pulled from your bubble. The world is still spinning, there's still work to do, pressing matters that needed your attention. You felt a little lighter, offering another half smile as he offers you a sheepish glance. He's heading towards JJ as you sit back down at your desk. Your leg bounces despite the perceived 'win'. It only takes you a moment to wonder why, reality sets in, and you realize your shortcomings.
You'd failed the test twice.
Twice you'd had the chance to be the most open and honest with Spencer, only to let your nerves or fear of rejection get in the way. The jealousy is gone now though, instead replaced with a brief feeling of self-aggravation. You hear Dave's stern voice in your head. 'Talk to him, Y/N.' and you frown. Hadn't that been what you'd done? You'd talked to him, so why did you still feel so bummed.
Why don't you just talk to the guy? Look him in the eye and tell him straight up how you're feeling? Derek's question from three weeks prior slaps you like a ton of bricks. You supposed that was the end goal, wasn't it? The only way to relieve yourself of all this anxiety and all the big feelings you were having a hard time digesting. You're back to pouting, mostly because you've got no idea where to start.
You pick up one of your files, and flip it open, hoping to bury yourself in work. Every time your mind tried to stray to Spencer or your feelings, you'd switch files, until all twenty-five on your desk had a dent in them. Your hand was cramped, and you know that soon enough you'll need a cup of coffee. Emily approaches your desk, hands centered as she leans forward, eyes right on you.
"So how did it go?" she asks, and you cut your eyes at her. "Tension's all gone, so it must have gone well, right?" she's grinning down at you. "I told you if you told him the truth, you'd have nothing to worry about." Emily proceeds, and you're shaking your head back and forth.
"Emily... Emily, no!" you exclaim, and her smile drops.
"No? What do you mean, no?" she demands as you exhale.
"I still haven't told him, and I'd really appreciate it, if you'd lower your voice." you hiss as she pouts. "Maybe it's just not supposed to be." you shrug, and Emily looks visibly disgruntled with your thoughts. "I'm just saying... we're okay, because we apologized." you explain. "I don't want to risk making it awkward again, because I think I have feelings." and now you're being purposely dismissive.
"Oh, so now you're not sure?" Emily questions, and then she's clicking her tongue against her teeth. "No. I don't buy that." she denies, and she's stern, but discrete. "Don't do this, Y/N. Don't be that girl." she pleads. "There's nothing worse than regret. It eats at you until there's nothing left, you don't want to look back, and think 'what if!'" and that's twice you're hearing something of the sort. Wasn't there some quote about hearing important things twice? You're not sure.
"If you like him-" she pauses, head still shaking from side to side. "If you love him... like it seems, you owe it to yourself to tell him. What's the worst thing that could happen?" she questions, and you scoff. "No, realistically." she insists. "Realistically tell me what the worst thing could be? And not from that place where your irrational fears sit." she deadpans, and you feel attacked, it makes you look away.
"In the two years of you knowing Reid, do you actually think that he's the kind of guy to break you down to nothing if he doesn't feel the same?" she asks, and the answer when presented to you like this is no. "So tell me what it is that you're really scared of?" she presses, and you don't understand why everyone's so worked up over this. Why the whole unit seemed to be invested in you expressing your feelings.
"I don't want to mess it up..." you shrug your shoulders. "I don't want to make it weird." you offer, and Emily's unmoved by your answer.
"You managed to do that without saying a thing." she retorts, and you feel like you've got no room to speak, no voice to rebuttal with. "Let me be your shrink for a second." Emily is your friend for moments like these, where her clear allegiance to you shines through. "Talk to me." she prompts.
"Why are you so invested in this?" you inquire. "Why does it even matter?" you huff.
"Because it matters to you." she answers. "What? You didn't know that's how this team works?" she asks, and you huff out a puff of air through your nose. "This isn't about us playing matchmaker... it's about you realizing that you've got a few bad beliefs about romance... and friendships.... and relationships that are going to keep you all by yourself if you don't start speaking your mind." she shrugs.
"And despite the way you curl into yourself back here at your desk, we both know you don't really want to be alone." and you think you might cry, it makes you wince. "You owe it to yourself to try, but ultimately the decision is all yours. I just think you'll feel better if you take Reid aside, and tell him the truth about how you feel." she seems done, and you don't know how to respond. Emily pats your shoulder as she rounds your desk, before heading back across the unit.
You really hate profilers.
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By the time you're heading home for the night, you and Spencer hadn't spoken again. You'd been so buried in work that you'd skipped lunch to get things done. You'd gotten a comment from Hotch about that, wondering if you were feeling alright. You knew that he knew the truth, even as you told him a fib. Hotch though, was discrete enough not to make you feel scrutinized by exposing just how obvious you were. You couldn't get Emily's words out of your head.
You didn't feel angry with her, and your embarrassment had managed to go away within the first forty minutes after she'd left you alone. You knew she was right, but it still didn't make things easier. It was almost like you forgot how to speak whenever the time came to really express yourself. You supposed that was why your apology had been so flat. Feelings weren't your strong suit, and you'd learned to express them by lashing out. A less than healthy way to live.
You liked that the team didn't speak to you like a child or treat you like you were incapable. Instead, they talked to you like an adult, gave the truth to you in a way that sliced through all your stubbornness and attitude. As you head towards the elevator, you hear footsteps, and look just in time to see Spencer making his way towards you. His satchel hangs off his shoulder, and he looks relieved, an emotion that you knew all too well by the end of a work shift.
You hoped there wouldn't be any cases that drug you back to the unit, all you wanted was a shower and a nap in your own bed.
Stepping into the elevator, Spencer trails you. He takes one side of the elevator, while you huddle up in the other. He offers you a tired smile as the doors slide closed, you offer him a smile right back. It's weary, mostly because you were drained, but partly, because Spencer had been the object of your thoughts the entire day. Especially after Emily's blunt speech. You were drained. The anxiety of keeping the secret far outweighed any fear of rejection now.
"Hey, are you alright?" he addresses you, after noticing the way you seemed lost in your head.
"Hmm?" you hum, and he repeats himself. It snaps you out of your mind spiral, and your head nods. A lie. "I'm all good, Spence." you reply, and he looks disappointed, but not surprised. "Thanks for asking though." you add a second after, and he offers you a dry little nod of his head. The elevator is back silent, and you hope the doors open quick. You might drown if the tension grew any thicker.
"I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable." he says, and you blank. Your confusion is clear as day on your face. "Earlier..." and your still not understanding. "I wasn't telling you that you were important to me, because I was expecting anything in return." he explains, and it clicks. "If it made you feel weird, I'm sorry. It just felt like the right way to express my point then." he proceeds, and you don't know how to collect yourself. "So, I'm sorry." and you want to scream.
Mostly at yourself for being so infuriatingly inadequate at expressing your thoughts and feelings.
"If you want, we could just pretend I never said anything?" he offers, and you don't answer quick enough. The elevator slides open just as the words are settling inside your head, and he's stepping out into the parking deck without another word. You sit there in the elevator for a moment, the door sliding shut after a moment, but you don't move. You feel like you're at a crossroads, almost at a point of no return. If you let Spencer leave now... like this, there would be no coming back.
There would be no room to gain some balls later, and try again. It wouldn't be fair to him. It wouldn't be fair to yourself.
You feel like hyperventilating, thoughts everywhere. Love had never been a subject you really understood. You'd always sort of saw it as this concrete construct. Unchangeable, always either black or white. A gloomy, gray, existence that could cut you up and spit you out. Love could turn you into a hollow version of who you once were. Love could break you down, and make you nothing. But then you think of your team. JJ and Penelope, Hotch, Dave, Emily, Derek. Spencer.
They were the rarest and purest examples of love in your day-to-day life, weren't they? You'd never quite met anyone who had your back more than your team. They fought for you, they fought with you. They believed in you, pushed you to be the best you that you could be. So why was it so hard, what were you scared of? Was it the notion of getting Spencer, and staining him? Blowing out that light inside him the way you'd witnessed for so long?
Was that a life worth living? Was it a chance you could take?
And then you huff, because damnit... you were tired of waiting. You were tired of anxiety, and uncertainty, and insecurity, and pain. You're certain that is why you hit the button to open the elevator. Gracefulness is not on your side as you practically sprint out into the car park, your eyes scanning hopefully for the familiar silhouette of your friend. When you spot him, you release a quiet noise of relief. "S-Spencer!" you hear the echo from your shout, and cringe.
But it doesn't matter, because he turns, he stops, and he's looking at you. His eyebrows are raised, hands gripping his bag, as you start to run. You ignore your fatigue, and your desire to run and hide, and instead run towards something for once. You don't stop running until you're past the point of 'personal space', you want to hover, you want to be in his space, because it was the only way you could possibly get through this. He looks a bit unsure, and still a bit grumpy.
You hope by the end of this that's no longer the case.
"Spencer, I don't want to forget about what you said." you're trying to catch your breath, bouncing up on your heels. "I don't want to pretend you never said it." you add, and Spencer's surprised expression has the hairs on your arm and neck ready to stand on end. "I-I actually want to know what you meant." you admit. "Because, I know what I meant when I said it... and it's not something that I take back." you express, and you can hear blood rushing in your ears.
"What did you mean?" Spencer asks, and you blanche.
"I asked you first." the obvious retort, and Spencer exhales loudly, but there's no annoyance, no exasperation. Only amusement, like always.
"I've done enough talking, haven't I?" he asks. "I want to know what you're thinking." and his voice is so soft, full of tenderness that you feel like you're being serenaded. You feel like you've got a knot in your throat also, almost like you'll suffocate if you don't get your thoughts out. "I promise I won't leave you hanging." and you're not sure what he means by that, but it helps. It makes your heart stutter-step, and you need to catch your breath, because you can't believe this is actually happening, or that you're actually here.
"I-" you play withy your fingers, and you have to inhale deeply to ensure you don't chicken out. "Spence, I didn't tell you that you were important to me, because you said it first." you promise, and he nods, but he doesn't say anything. His eyes are syrupy, alluring, and beautiful, still twinkling under the dingy, flickering lights of the parking deck. "I said it because you're all I really think about." you admit, and his eyebrows furrow, and you're scared.
"And the last three weeks... I've been so mad at you." you blurt out. "I was the one that acted like a child, but I was angry with you, because I thought that you were making fun of me... and all the feelings I have for you." you exhale, and you look down at the ground, because the nerves that come with your words are overwhelming. "I was jealous, I acted like a child, but it was only because I thought you were rubbing it in my face... I thought you were being cruel."
Spencer's long lashes blink rapidly, but he's still stone silent. Probably because he knows that you're still not done. "And that wasn't fair of me, because I know you, Spence. You're not that type of person, but I just I couldn't reign myself in, and I acted immaturely because I was scared... and then just now, in the elevator... I almost did it again. I almost let you think that I don't care about you... but I do. Spencer, I have feelings for you." and you clear your throat, legs shaking.
"I'm in love with you, and I'm not... this isn't some trick or ploy or cry for help. I understand if you're mind is elsewhere... and I'm so sorry if the way I've been acting ruined everything, but I-I love you okay? That's what this has all been about. I'm sorry it took me so long to say something, but there it is." and you gasp, chest heaving now that you were finished. You finally look up at Spencer again, and he's staring you down. It doesn't feel hypersexual or heady with tension.
Instead, it's like the first intake of air into your lungs after being under water for so long. You supposed that's what the truth did, you supposed that's what your feelings for Spencer did when you allowed them to exist. "You mean that?" he asks, and you huff.
"Of course, I mean it. I mean it so much, I think I'm going to be sick." and despite himself he laughs, a bright beam following after it. He takes a small step towards you, and you feel crowded, the body heat from you both warming you up from the inside out. Still, despite how outwardly calm he looked in comparison to you, you managed to spot the shyness, the anxiety that rested in his own eyes. He looked unsure, almost like he was being careful not to ruin the moment.
"Do you know how long I've been wanting to hear you say that?" he asks, and you're shocked, stuck, surprised. You don't know if this is in your mind or if you just got lucky. "Have you ever-" he's got this gleeful look on his face. "There's this quote by Lao Tzu..." he stammers, "Love is of all passions the strongest, for it attacks simultaneously the head, the heart, and the senses." he quotes, and there are no butterflies... you think that might be a good thing.
"I don't know if there's been a time since I met you that you haven't been on my mind." Spencer explains, and there it is. "I think that's why I snapped the way I did, I don't think I ever imagined a scenario where we'd be here." he admits, and it pains you to know that he thought that way. "It was-" he motions between you both. "The thought of us being something was sort of just something I believed would always sort of just be a thought." Spencer's glowing red.
The blush coats his ears, cheeks, nose, and neck. His eyes are brighter, and his hands twitch at his side, almost like he's restraining himself. You think you only notice, because you're doing the same.
"I want to be with you." he says this so faintly you're almost unsure you heard him correctly. Your eyes widen, and your surprise is obvious. He takes a small step forward, and he's crowding you. It's nothing like the movies, in fact, the closer he gets to you, the more you're able to see the shyness in his eyes. He reaches out, and his hand ghosts over your side.
"Spence-" and the you that you were just an hour earlier, the one too scared to tell him the truth almost feels like she never even existed.
"Can I?" he asks, and your eyes drift to his hands that are inching closer to your body. You nod your head quickly, and he doesn't look amused. "I want to hear you." he says quietly. "I want you to tell me that I can." he adds, and you find yourself nodding anyway.
"Y-You can." you promise. "But I don't want you to pretend." his eyebrows furrow again. "Please don't do this if you don't mean it." you say, and Spencer's hands drop to your side, there's no wandering fingers, in fact it feels like he wanted to touch you for the sole purpose of keeping you from shaking any longer.
"Y/N, I want to be with you." he repeats it more firmly this time, and he's looking directly at you. It's intense, the eye contact more than anything else. He sounds sincere, and that makes you nervous.
"But what about..." and you trail off, because you don't know what to label the pretty woman he'd been entertaining. Spencer chuckles quietly, and his head shakes from side to side.
"She was nice." he reiterates the words he'd said three weeks prior. "But, she's not you... I don't think anyone would've been able to fill your shoes." he says, and you squeeze your eyes closed, because God, Spencer was so good with words. His hands are on your face, brushing at your cheeks as you shed a few long overdue tears. "Are these happy tears?" he asks hopefully, and your eyes shoot open. Your head nods, and you're not sure why you're so quiet.
Maybe, because life had thrown a curveball and surprised you in a good way. "Happy tears." you agree, and he presses his lips together, thumbs still working to keep the tears at bay. "I just can't believe-"
"Please do." he cuts you off, before you can get it out. "Believe this, believe me." he almost begs, and you hum. "Can I kiss you?" he asks, and you don't answer him, instead you surge forward and press your lips to his. You're certain security is getting a full view of the action, Spencer kisses like he wants to inhale you, and it's nice.. It's more than nice, his kisses are surged with emotion, every ounce of affection that his words had been drenched in was felt in the kiss.
Had breathing not been a factor, you might have stayed there. When you pull back to inhale, Spencer's got this twinkle in his eye that makes your nose scrunch up. "What?" you press, and he grins at you.
"You love me..." he breathes it out, and you're not sure if he's stating it or asking, but you suppose now that the cat's out of the bag, saying it again is nothing.
"Yeah. I love you, Spence." you promise, and he's quick to lean in and peck you on the lips. "D'you love me too?" you ask, once he's pulled back, and his hands move up, cupping both sides of your face as he drags his thumbs up and down.
"I love you." and it sounds like a promise.
So you believe him.
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 "It’s a profoundly strange feeling, to stumble across someone whose desires are shaped so closely to your own, like reaching toward your reflection in a mirror and finding warm flesh under your fingertips. If you should ever be lucky enough to find that magical, fearful symmetry, I hope you’re brave enough to grab it with both hands and not let go.” ― Alix E. Harrow
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avatar-anna · 8 months
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When You Fall In Love...
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so i've been reading icebreaker and it's been putting me in the hockeyrry mood
part one, part two, bonus, bonus
Harry watched from the empty stands as Y/n ran through her routine for the fifth time. Her teammates had gone home, her coach asked Harry if he would lock up on the way out, and now it was just the two of them in the empty rink. There wasn't even any music playing anymore, Y/n was just skating and performing her tricks as if there was.
Every time she did it, it was flawless. Her routine was fast and intense and incredibly difficult, but Y/n performed with ease every time. She landed her tricks like they were nothing, tricks which Harry now knew the names of and could tell the difference between a lutz and an axel. She was incredible, and he was in awe of her every single time.
But even in her perfection, Y/n had yet to smile once.
Harry decided she'd had enough after she finished her fifth run-through, quickly jogging down to the edge of the rink before she could skate out to the middle again. He leaned over the barricade and kissed the top of her head. This close to her, he could see her rosy cheeks and heaving chest, a sign that her routine did wear her out, despite making it look so effortless.
"You were phenomenal as usual, baby," Harry said while he gathered her things.
"I bobbled a landing and my timing was off for a whole four counts," was her reply.
Harry frowned, not pleased by her recent negativity. Any athlete could be critical of their ability, but Y/n seemed uncharacteristically hard on herself lately, and he had no idea why. "Everything okay?" He asked, shouldering her duffle bag as they walked away from the rink.
"I'm fine."
She certainly didn't sound fine, but Harry decided not to push. Not now, anyway. Changing the subject, he said, "I got an email from the recruiter. I should be receiving my contract soon."
Excitement didn't even begin to cover how Harry had been feeling lately. Last week, he'd met with an agent of a minor league hockey team, one that was a feeder to an NHL team. He expressed their interest in Harry moving to the east coast after graduation and join them for spring training. And after giving it some thought, Harry accepted.
He was over the moon, thrilled that years of hard work was finally paying off. He'd made his passion into a career, and had the potential to really make a name for himself. Life couldn't have been better.
But where Harry seemed to be flying high, Y/n seemed stuck. She was happy for him when he told her the news, had gone out to celebrate with him that night. But something felt off between them. Harry couldn't put a name to it, but he just knew.
"That's great," Y/n said with no amount of enthusiasm in her voice. Harry tried not to take it to heart, she was clearly in a mood from her practice. She was under a lot of pressure too, he reminded himself, and sometimes had a knack for not knowing how to express herself with words.
"Is there something on your mind? You've been quiet recently," he said, hoping he wasn't overstepping her delicate boundary.
Y/n shook her head as she approached her car, sliding into the driver's seat without a word. Harry couldn't help but feel more and more like there was something on her mind, but he let it go again.
Before pulling the car out of the parking lot, Y/n rested her hand over his and leaned in to kiss him. "I'm sorry. I've just got a lot on my mind."
"It's okay. As long as you know you can talk to me about it."
Her throat bobbed, but she nodded, then turned her focus toward the road. Harry filled the silence with rambling. He talked mostly about the NHL, about his contract and where he wanted to live and how everything was happening so fast.
So caught up in trying to break the tension, he didn't notice Y/n's white-knuckle grip on the steering wheel.
*.*
"Styles! What the hell are you doing? Focus up! Let's go!"
Harry rested his hands on his knees, breathing heavily during the brief pause in the game. His eyes flicked up to the stands, searching the crowd for a familiar face, but he didn't see the one he needed the most.
Despite being recruited by a minor league hockey team, Harry was probably having the worst game of his life.
Not one pass connected, he was letting second-rate players get by him, and he'd spent more time in the penalty box than in the actual game. Nothing about this was right, and still all he could do was look for Y/n.
She wasn't there, and even though things had been weird between them recently, he was still surprised. When she wasn't at a competition of her own, Y/n came to every one of Harry's games. It had started out as Harry wanting to impress her, maybe show off a little, and then as time went on and they grew closer and their relationship became more than two people having sex in secret, he wanted her to be there just because it felt good knowing she was watching him play. All his nerves floated away when Y/n was sat in the stands, sometimes in his jersey, cheering him on.
And of course there were times when she couldn't come, but this wasn't one of those times. Y/n had purposely not shown up. He knew they'd fought before the game, but he didn't think she would abandon him just to be petty. They were past that now.
His sole focus should've been on the game he was playing, but instead his mind kept drifting to the fight.
Harry could feel Y/n pulling away from him. He finally felt like he was getting everything he wanted—a spot on a minor league hockey team on the east coast that would eventually lead him to the NHL, graduating with semi-decent grades thanks to Y/n, and of course being with his dream girl. At first, she'd seen him as some douchey athlete that was only good for one thing. He remembered seeing her for the first time their freshman year, performing tricks on the ice that he'd only ever seen on TV, and when he whistled and clapped loudly—perhaps a little obnoxiously—after she'd finished, she'd rolled her eyes at him and told him to fuck off.
It was love at first sight.
Harry had been so careful around Y/n. He played by her rules and followed her lead, trying not to let the comments about them not dating get to him too much. He liked their initial dynamic, finding it funny when he got under her skin because she made it so easy. It became a kind of game, this push and pull that was fun and exciting and eventually led to their arrangement.
He knew that she cared about him on some level, he just needed to bide his time and show her he wasn't who she thought he was. Not entirely, anyway. And when she finally did, and they became more than just people who screwed around, everything was perfect.
They'd been through so much together. Y/n pushed Harry to be better, and he worked with her to master new tricks and nail her routine. There wasn't anyone else who understood his level of commitment to hockey, but she did, and that just made him love her more.
So when he got the call offering him a spot on the minor league team, Y/n was the first person Harry told. She'd been happy for him, and he was over the moon, his mind already making a million plans—where they'd live, her coming to his games, him helping her find a new rink to train at. It felt like the doors to a new and exciting world had opened for them, but she then she started pulling back, and Harry practically watched as that door slammed shut.
Harry pushed himself to focus back on the game, on the hockey stick in his hand and the ice beneath his skates. He felt like it took more effort than it should've to get his head back in the game, but his team managed to pull out a win, and he managed not to get benched before it happened. That didn't stop his coach from ripping him a new one in the locker room, but Harry sat there and took it, shaking his head and promising his piss poor performance would never happen again.
Exhausted both physically and mentally, he trudged out of the locker room and toward the parking lot, debating whether to take the bus home or call an Uber. Even in his senior year, he still didn't have a car, but Y/n was usually there to give him a ride home. To their home. Moving in together for their last year of school seemed like a no-brainer, and it had been amazing so far, though the last week had been kind of a disaster. Harry could feel the tension between them growing, but every time he asked Y/n about it, she'd say she was fine even though they both knew everything was not fine, and the cycle continued. He wanted to be excited, he wanted to celebrate the success he'd managed to create for himself, but he felt rather deflated instead.
To Harry's surprise, Y/n was waiting for him in the parking lot. He didn't hesitate putting his gear in the trunk and coming around to sit in the passenger seat. Y/n leaned in to kiss him immediately holding onto the sides of his face fervently.
"I'm sorry," she breathed. "I'm sorry for not being here tonight and I'm sorry for acting strange, and I'm sorry for—"
"Y/n, what's going on with you?" Harry couldn't help but ask.
"Can we wait until we get home to talk?" She asked. I want to be able to talk to you properly, and I can't if I'm driving.
When Harry nodded, Y/n must've deemed it enough. She peeled away from the rink, silent tension filling the air between once again. It had been following them around all week.
That ended tonight, though. He didn't care how much Y/n hated confrontation or hard conversations. They couldn't move forward if they didn't move past this roadblock first. Harry loved Y/n more than he ever thought possible, and stubborn as she was, he knew she loved him just as much. He would get to the bottom of this, no matter how hard she tried to fight him on the way down.
*.*
"Y/n, you know I would be ecstatic if you'd told me you qualified for the Olympics. This is a huge step in my career! Why can't you be happy for me?"
"I am! God, Harry, I am."
"Then why are you pulling away from me? I feel like I can't be excited about this around you when you're the one person who should understand how this feels."
"I can't do this. I can't have this argument with you," you said, trying to step away from him.
Harry was quick to grab your hands in his, keeping you from walking away. "What aren't you telling me? Do you want to break up?"
"No!
"Do you not love me anymore? What? What is it, Y/n?"
"God, I didn't—I didn't ask for this," you cried, feeling like a damn had burst inside you. It was out now, and now you had to see it through to the end. "I didn't plan on falling in love with you. I wasn't prepared to love you this much. You're the one who wanted to take things further, and now you're—"
You're leaving me, you couldn't bring yourself to say. You really were happy for him. All of his dreams were coming true, and he had an ambition that matched yours, which made you love him more. And now that ambition was taking him far away from you, and you weren't handling it as well as you thought you would.
"Y/n—"
"I'm happy for you, H, I'm so happy for you that I could burst. And maybe even a little jealous," you joked, though there was some truth to what you said. "But I guess I just...I guess I didn't expect to love you this much. And I don't—I don't know what to do because you're going soon and I'm..."
You had no clue, and that alone was terrifying.
At the start of all this, you never imagined falling in love with Harry. He drove you absolutely insane, and despite your physical attraction to him, you kept your distance. But he kept doing these things that made you like him, and eventually care about him, and finally made you fall in love with him. It just wasn't something you saw coming. Love was definitely not on the brain when you met Harry.
Because you knew this moment was inevitable. The moment when one of you would be given an opportunity you couldn't refuse and would pull you away from each other. Once upon a time, you thought you would be given your dream job of a lifetime—competitive skating and hopefully the Olympics—but somewhere down the line, skating stopped bringing you joy, only pressure and anxiety. And now Harry had his dream job on the other side of the country, and you were left to flounder and wonder how you would survive waking up without him next to you.
"You're making it seem like it's a bad thing that you're in love with me," Harry said quietly, but the low tone of his voice didn't hide anything. You knew he was getting upset. After all the avoidance the last week—on your part—yours and his emotions were coming to a head.
"It's not! It's just that you're leaving!" you said, resisting the urge to run a frustrated hand through your hair. "And all week you've talked about how excited to get out of here and leave this all behind and start a new chapter in your life. I mean, would it kill you to act like you're a little torn up about leaving?"
It was so selfish, and you knew it was. It was why you'd been avoiding Harry, this conversation. Harry had every right to be proud and ecstatic for leaving to play in the professional league. He worked so hard, pushed himself farther than anyone you'd ever met, except for maybe you. Your pain was clouding your good sense, and now you'd shown just how horrible you could really be.
You couldn't look him in the eye after saying what you did. Even if it was how you felt, you still felt ashamed for raining on Harry's parade. "Y/n—" he tried to say when you hastily wiped a tear from your eye.
"I shouldn't have said anything. I'm sorry," you said, getting up from the couch and scurrying off to your bedroom.
Flopping on the bed, you pulled the covers over you, trying to hide from everything happening around you. It was too much. Your senior year was supposed to be fun and full of unforgettable memories, not arguments and heartache.
You weren't sure how much time had passed before the door opened and Harry slipped inside. He slid into bed next to you, and you didn't fight it when he rested his face in the crook of your neck. Because despite everything you were feeling, this was all you really needed.
"I'm not leaving you behind," he murmured gently. "You mean too much to me."
You sniffled, and Harry pulled you closer to his chest. "You're going to be thousands of miles away."
"Says who?" he said, kissing your cheek. "Who says you aren't coming with me?"
"And do what?" you huffed, even though the thought slightly lifted your spirits. "Be one of your...puck whatevers and follow you around like a puppy? I need a life of my own too."
You were being stubborn and argumentative and you both knew it. There was some relief in knowing Harry wanted you with him, but you also didn't want to just move because Harry was. You needed purpose, you needed to feel like your life had some sort of direction in it. But it was unfair to put all of that on Harry, and you didn't know how to express how you felt without sounding insane, so instead you said nothing, and that obviously went over brilliantly.
Harry chuckled. "See, because you just said how in love you are with me, I can tell that you're frosty attitude is just an act. Now turn over and look at me."
You reluctantly turned over, brow furrowed exaggeratedly because you couldn't cross your arms over your chest. It used to infuriate you how easily Harry could get under your skin because he knew you so well, that he knew just what to do or say to pull you out of a bad mood. In this moment, you were thankful. He could see past all the harsh words and see to the root of the problem. You'd said some things that were perhaps out of order, but Harry understood. Despite everything, he understood.
"You've worked just as hard as me, Y/n. I want to be there for you the way you've been for me. You can achieve your goals too."
"I just...I don't know if I want to achieve them anymore," you said quietly.
It was the first time you'd said it out loud. Since you'd learned to skate, there had only been one goal: the Olympics. Getting there wasn't just a matter of training, it was about devoting your life to your craft, it was barely having a life outside of training and competitions and giving all your time to winning. And after spending nearly your entire life doing it, you felt yourself slowly burning out. You'd go through your routines flawlessly, but your heart wasn't in it. All you could think about was the future—the next competition, the next training session, the next qualifier. It took seeing Harry so happy about being drafted to the minor leagues to realize the fire had gone out in you. Thinking of Olympic qualifiers and training and affording coaches and costumes and picking the right music only filled you with dread when you should've felt joy.
"Oh."
"But I don't know who I am if I don't have skating."
"You don't have to compete to skate, you know," Harry said. He rested his hand against your cheek, rubbing his thumb along your temple lightly. "You can c—"
"Oh God, don't say coach," you groaned. "It's perfect. You'll be a hockey superstar and I'll be the washed-up figure skater who couldn't handle the pressure of being an athlete and wound up coaching instead."
"I know you're being like this because you're scared, and that's okay," he said. "But I'll help you find a new dream, Y/n. I promise."
You had to blink away tears because your heart couldn't take how much he cared about you. "Even when I've been a complete bitch?"
"You haven't been. I'm sorry if you felt like I was leaving you behind. I guess in my mind we would always be together, no matter where we ended up."
"God I hate how much I love you sometimes," you grumbled while flinging yourself on top of Harry and holding him tight. "It's too much, you're too much, and I can't stand it—"
"There's a compliment in there somewhere, right?" Harry asked, but you could hear the grin in his voice.
Sitting up, you perched yourself on him, your legs straddling his waist. Dipping down, you made sure your noses were brushing, but you didn't close the distance. Not yet. Your heart was racing simply because Harry had been so kind to you, because he knew you so well and said exactly what you needed to hear. It felt ridiculous to know that there was a time when he pissed you off so much you saw red, that his teasing remarks and cocky grin grated on your nerves. Now you didn't want to imagine a life without him.
"I'm sorry for saying all of those things," you murmured. "I really am proud of you. No one deserves this more than you do."
Harry's hand reached up and threaded through your hair, his fingers gentle as they passed over your scalp. "I know you are. And I mean it, Y/n. I'll help you. I know you love to skate, we just have to find a way to channel that into something else. If not coaching, maybe performing?"
"What? Like Disney on Ice?" you asked skeptically, your nose wrinkling at the thought.
Harry shrugged as his hand dipped beneath your shirt to stroke your back. "You'd be a cute princess."
"With my luck, they'd make me a tree."
"Then you'd be the cutest tree there ever was."
Shaking your head, you nudged your nose against his again. "Can we hit pause on talking about the future? I just want to be with you here. Right now."
"Course," Harry said, one corner of his mouth turning up into a crooked grin. "And then maybe we can circle back to you being my puck whatever."
"Shut up."
"Make me!"
And that was something you knew how to do better than your skating routine.
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cosmal · 1 year
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ooooh poly!marauders who are really in tune with their s/o's emotions, even when she tries to hide them? like maybe they're out for a meal or at a party and she gets overwhelmed and they just realise straight away and bring her out of the setting? i love them soooo much
in the car
summary the boys take you home when you get overwhelmed at a party.
content poly!marauders x fem!reader
note omg first poly!m blurb. sorry it kinda sucks :[
You sit on a retaining wall in Marlene's backyard and try to focus on her pretty flowers instead of feeling so anxious. You haven't spoken to anyone in twenty minutes, not even the boys, and you've really tried your best not to put such a damper on the night.
They're having a lot of fun, you know they've had a tiring week and everyone hasn't been together in a long time so you won't ruin anything for them.
You pick at your nails and chew on the ice in your drink to keep your mind distracted. You thought you could handle it tonight, you hoped you wouldn't get as overwhelmed as you were expecting. You'd felt anxious before you even left, you thought seeing your friends might've helped.
You're too busy staring a hole through your glass to notice James sitting next to you. You startle when he speaks and bite your lip at your error.
"Hey, sweetheart," he says softly and ignores your jump. You feel a little pathetic.
"James," you sigh. You can't look him in the eye.
"Ready to go?" he clasps and hand to your shoulder and does that stupid, toothy grin he knows you love.
"What? We just got here." It feels like it's been hours. It's been one at most.
"Yeah, I know." He stands back up and hovers over you. It's almost irritating how pretty he looks. He doesn't make any of this any easier. You feel awful for ruining their night. "You look so sad, honey. We thought we'd go home."
"I can Uber if you want." You regret it before you even say it.
"What? No, don't be so silly." Yeah. Expected.
"I don't wanna leave just cause of me. I'm fine, don't worry."
James doesn't let you mope any longer. "No, c'mon, up."
"James..."
"It's okay," he takes your hand to encourage you, smiling, "really. I wanna leave anyway." Then much quieter, "Frank's tryna get me drunk."
You let him lift you up and fall into his side where you feel you belong. You feel half-relieved already, despite feeling selfish. "Where're the others?"
"Sirius went to get the car,'' he grabs your hand and leads you through the side gate. "I think Remus went with him."
You're not sure why you feel so blindsided by this all. Most of the time they're so intuned with you, they know when you're overwhelmed or just having a bad time. You're the same with them. You rub Remus's shoulders before without him telling you they're sore, you call James when you know he's having a bad day after he messages you, and you hug Sirius before he tells you he wants a cry.
You step out onto the pavement and find Sirius pulled up with Remus, waiting for you and James. You feel bad for ditching but not as much as so when they look so happy to see you. "What if I'd convinced you to stay? They would've been out here all night, probably," you ask before you get to the car.
"Wouldn't have worked." He opens your door for you.
You slide along the back seat for James to sit next to you and are welcomed by a lovely warmth. James gets in too and you think he wants to click you in as well but decides against it.
"You okay, lovely?" Remus asks from the passenger seat, he twists around to look you over and you feel bare.
"I'm okay," you say softly. "Hasn't Sirius been drinking?"
Sirius snorts from behind the wheel. "I've had two, don't worry, lovely."
You know you're deflecting, you suspect as soon as Sirius also asks if you're okay, you might cry. Your throat feels thick with an upset that feels worse now in a contained space. This is half the reason you wanted to leave on your own. Not that being surrounded by your boys when you're upset is bad, just might've been easier to steel yourself.
You reach a hand down on the seat between you and James and scrunch it tight. He unclicks himself and sides over to you. He gets an arm around your shoulder and encourages you into his side, as much as your seatbelt will allow.
"You okay?" Sirius dangerously whips his head back to look at you, pouting.
The first tear dribbles down your cheek.
You hide your face in James's firm shoulder and shake your head. He tuts and cages your head in with a big hand. Your tears are hot and slow, marring James's pretty shirt. You hope you don't turn messy with it. He looks good.
James murmurs something like, "Hurry up, Sirius." The car roars.
You feel the car slow at a red light and peel yourself away from James's chest. Face wet and hot, your hair stuck to your cheeks. "Shit, I'm sorry," you curse and wipe your face with a rough hand. James's arm stays around your shoulder.
"Hey, it's okay, yeah?" Remus uses his long arm to grab your knee. He squeezes firmly and it feels nice. You hope you're close to home, you want to hug Sirius as well. He looks similarly worked up.
"I'm sorry I made us leave," you sniffle.
"You didn't make us do anything," James says, voice as firm as he can manage. "We don't mind. It's just...you gotta tell us if you're not feeling good, okay? We might be able to prevent these pretty eyes from crying." He uses the side of his finger to wipe under your watery eyes, brushing over your clumped eyelashes. You blink slowly.
"I didn't want to ruin-"
"You didn't ruin anything," Sirius interrupts, "We just want to make sure you're okay."
He steals another look at you. You nod gently. "Yeah."
"Remus was complaining to me, anyways," James says, smug. "Said I looked so good that he wanted to take me home."
You start to laugh, much to the boy's pleasure. "Really?"
"Yeah," James nods, "Said he wanted to - and I quote - jump my bones."
Remus looks incensed. You're just happy the teasing isn't on your behalf for once. "Whatever, James."
"You do look pretty, James," you say, still sidled up to him, "I don't blame him."
He squeezes you hard. and laughs, pleased you're feeling better. "I'm sure Remus'll be telling me all night how good this shirt looks on me."
"It does!"
"Okay, James's head might explode," Sirius says. He'd looked just as in love all night, you'd seen it.
"Woah!"
You sit back and watch your boys fight over stupid things. You think you could do it for the rest of your life if they allowed it. You're sure they'd make a fool of themselves over and over if it made you happy.
Sirius catches you staring. "Feeling a little better?"
You nod, pleased, but embarrassed to be caught. "Yeah."
"Good." You must be almost home.
"Hey, Sirius?" you say softly.
"Yeah, lovely?" He might crash if he keeps turning to look at you like that.
"Can we stop at McDonald's?" you ask softly, even softer eyes like he'd ever say no.
"Yeah, sounds good. Remus needs a happy meal."
-
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