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youvebeenlivingfictional · 2 years

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The Worst Best Man

Notes: Based on this post. Working on the companion Rooster piece now. Not beta-read

Warnings: enemies to lovers; angst; fluff; reader tipsiness; ends happily

Rating: M (mostly for the amount of cursing)

Length: 6K

Summary: You’d at least hoped that you’d get some help from the best man, but so far, you’d gotten jackshit. Jake Seresin was, quite possibly, the worst Best Man you could’ve wound up with.

Don’t you think it’s too soon?

Aren’t you rushing this?

You’ve known each other for, what—four months? How—How did this even—

Those were among the questions that had bubbled up when Jenna told you that she and Thomas were getting married, and asked you to be her Maid of Honor—for a wedding that would be happening in three months. Now, you were a month out, and the wedding was feeling like even more of a circus than it had at the outset. The timeline was pinched, the budget was tight, the bride’s demands were high, the groom was preoccupied, and the Best Man was such a dick.

You’d at least hoped that you’d get some help from him, but so far, you’d gotten jackshit. Jake Seresin was, quite possibly, the worst Best Man you could’ve wound up with.

He had no interest in helping you in any meaningful way. He was more than happy to tag along for the fun stuff like cake tastings, but when it came to the things that you have to actually spend time on—things like arrangements for the photographer, decorations and centerpieces for the venue (because Jenna was too busy to do them), place settings (because Jenna wanted them done, but didn’t want to deal with it), and arranging the favor bags (because someone had to do it), Jake wouldn’t so much as lift a finger. Oh, you’d asked. Toward the beginning, you had asked him for a lot of help. But once Jake Seresin gave you a third, “Sounds like you’ve got this one, sweetheart,” you just stopped asking.

And that was why it was wholly inexplicable when he decided to turn up to the florist’s. You hadn't even bothered to hide your dismay at the sight of him. In fact, your scowl had deepened as he’d held the door open for you and waved you inside. You greeted the woman behind the counter warmly, folding your arms across your chest as you waited for her to gather the arrangements that she’d made for the reception. Jake dropped into one of the seats around the small table, scrolling through his phone. You set your bag down on the seat beside his and instead wandered around the space, eyeing photos of other arrangements.

“...Would you sit down?”

“What for?”

“Just, relax for a minute,” Jake sighed. “What are you so antsy for?”

You weren’t antsy. You just didn’t want to be anywhere near him if you could help it.

“I’m not,” You excused. “I’m just looking.”

You felt Jake cast a speculative eye back toward you. You stalwartly ignored it, looking between the photos until you heard, “Here we are!” From the florist. You turned, smiling when you spotted the arrangements of peonies, garden roses, and hyacinths, offering a clean, white pallet with pops of blue.

“This is beautiful,” You stepped closer to the table. You dipped your head, eyeing the stems, and the fullness of the vase. “I do think that this may be a little tall for what we need, though.”

“And what does the groom think?” The florist asked, casting Jake a bright smile. Your eyes widened slightly, turning to find Jake smiling smugly at you.

“Oh—No. No no,” You shook your head. “This is not the groom—And I’m not the bride. Maid of Honor, Best Man,” You clarified, pointing from yourself to him.

“I’m so sorry!” She laughed. “You two just had the look of a couple when you came in. I see it a lot, you know, the tightness and stress that can come from arrangements, floral or otherwise. So!” She pushed on as if she hadn't just horrified you, “We can absolutely do lower vases, if that’s what you’re needing.”

“The tables at the venue are fairly small, they seat five,” You told her as she noted it down, “And I just don’t want people having to lean around the uh…Around the arrangements to speak to one another.”

“Understood,” She nodded.

“Do the vases come with the flowers?” Jake asked, taking up the arrangement.

“No. Put it down,” You ordered flatly.

“What are we gonna do for vases?”

“I took care of that. And since when is any of this a we situation?”

“Don’t look so sour, sweetheart. I’m just trying to help.”

“This is not helping, this is annoying. Put it down.”

“Do the vases look like this?”

“No. We’re repurposing mason jars.”

“Why?”

“Because Jenna has a lot of them that we can use and it cuts down on the expense. Would you please put it down?”

“How much would vases like these cost? They’re nicer.”

“Would you just—Stop tipping it!”

“What? I’m just looking for the price tag—”

“Jake—”

“Gimme one second—”

“Stop, stopstopstopstopstop!” You screeched, darting around the table to him. You weren’t fast enough. Jake tipped the vase just a little too far, sending water spilling into your open bag. He hissed a curse, righting the vase as you scrambled to your bag. You yanked it open, your insides bubbling with rage as you looked inside. You could hear the retreating footsteps of the florist, and the scrape of Jake’s chair beside yours.

“Shit…How bad is it—?”

“Don’t,” You warned, cutting him off as you try to shift things around in your bag and assess the damage. “Don’t talk to me right now.”

It was a stony moment of quiet before the florist came back in. You managed a tight smile as she held out a wad of paper towels, taking them with a mumble of thanks and hurriedly dabbing at the bottom of your bag.

“...How bad is—”

“Seresin, I am serious.”

Jake went blessedly quiet beside you. You only just managed to keep your cool as you finished discussing the arrangements with the florist. You steamed your way out of the shop, determined to leave him in the dust—and with no such luck.

“Would you slow down?”

You didn’t answer his call, just sped toward you car, even as he added, “Look, I’m sorry—“

“Why are you here!” You whirled around, forcing him to stop short to keep from slamming into you. He looked stricken for just a second before he blinked his usual cocky demeanor back into place.

“I’m here to help.”

“With what?” You laughed hysterically, “Since when? I asked for your help before and you did nothing! Why now?”

“Thomas said you’ve been twitchy and working overtime on this stuff, so—“

“So you thought you’d come and dump some water into my purse? Thank you,” You cooed sarcastically. “I couldn’t have asked for better assistance.”

“That was an accident,” He insisted.

“Well, it was more than enough. Consider yourself released from whatever help you thought you might give me.” You turned from him, pressing the unlock button on your key fob. You rounded to the driver’s seat, yanking the door open and slamming it shut once you’re inside. You jammed the key into the ignition, practically peeling out of the parking lot before he could knock on your window or get into his car and follow you.

—

You did see him, of course. He was hard to avoid. Jenna and Thomas insisted on the odd check-in with the four of you, whenever it was convenient for Thomas and Jake. They tended to have schedules that were set in stone. Both were in the Navy; Thomas was a month out from changing bases, which was why the wedding was on such a tight turnaround in the first place.

You sat around the small dining room table in Jenna’s apartment, mostly keeping to yourself. Jenna, Thomas, and Jake just chatted like you didn’t have things to get done—like you hadn’t come with a list of status items and questions that have yet to be answered. Instead, you just waited, drank their beer, ate the pizza they bought, and smiled until they came around to it. Once they did, you ran through your list with militant efficiency. You came away with answers, plans—and Jake’s pledge to help you with the favors.

You wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, that you didn’t want water poured into the favor bags, but you just forced a tight smile, and gritted out your thanks through your teeth.

—

“Why don’t you like Jake?”

It was a trap of a question. You didn’t answer right away, choosing to pretend that you hadn’t heard it the first time.

“Hm?” You managed after a moment, glancing from your notes to look at her. Jenna tipped her head toward you, brows raising in disbelief. You shrugged nonchalantly, turning to look down at your notes and checklists.

“He’s a good guy,” Jenna added, walking around the table. “Tommy said he’s half the reason he even made it out of basic.”

“I somehow doubt that.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Other than him being a self-centered purse-ruining ass? Nothing in particular.”

“He said the purse thing was an accident. He felt really bad!”

“Yeah, it really showed,” You muttered. You glanced up, brows raising as you spotted Jenna’s disbelieving gaze. You sighed softly.

“Look, he’s gonna help me with these favors, we’re gonna get through the wedding, and then I never have to see him again. So,” You shrugged. “This is gonna be fine. Your day is going to be perfect. I promise.”

“Making an effort to get along with Jake would make my day perfect,” Jenna insisted, giving you a wide, sweet smile. You could see a glint of deviousness in her dark eyes—one that you didn’t trust.

“...Alright,” You conceded, nodding. “I will try.”

You would not try. You were going to white-knuckle your way through the favors, hopefully in absolute silence.

“So do you like doing this stuff?”

So much for absolute silence. You cast Jake a surly gaze before you looked back down at the small favor bag and counted out ten hershey kisses from the bowl on the table.

“You mean favors?” You asked.

“I mean wedding stuff.”

You shrugged a little. “It’s fine, I guess.”

“It seems pretty important to you.”

“It’s important to Jenna. Jenna’s important to me.”

Jake grunted softly. You could see him nodding in your periphery. You tied the favor bag closed, setting it into the box beside you.

“You worried?” He asked.

“About what?”

“Them.”

Your eyes darted to Jake. You expected a smug smile, but you found something more contemplative there. You pursed your lips. This felt like as much of a trap as Jenna’s question. “...I guess when you know, you know,” You shrugged. “And with his move coming up, you know. It makes sense.”

You tied the next bag closed, setting it into the box. You glanced over, brows raising as Jake tied ribbon with laborious slowness. For every bag he finished, you finished three. You were certain he was drawing this out to get under your skin—and you were sorry to say that it was working.

“You seem to have put all of this stuff together really fast,” He said.

“People get booked out so far in advance. I just wanted to make sure Jenna and Thomas had everything they needed.”

“So that’s why you took the steamroller approach?”

Your frown deepened, brow furrowing at the question.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You totally took over the planning.”

“Jenna wasn’t going to get to most of it,” You defended.

“You could’ve left her to it.”

“She asked for my help.”

“Your help, not your dictatorship.”

Your eyes narrowed at the assertion.

“You know what?” You smiled. “I’ve got this. You can go.”

You dropped the next favor bag into the box before taking up an empty one. Jake chuckled, and the sound raised your hackles.

“You really don’t like pushback, huh?” He asked.

“And yet, you keep talking.”

“You doing all of this in case you never get to do it for yours?”

It made you go still, your stomach twisting with indignation.

“Excuse me?” You asked, tone icy and low.

Jake shrugged. “You know, plan the wedding you’d like for yourself in case you don’t have one.”

“Where the fuck did that come from?”

“From your planning with an iron fist.” Jake leaned closer, dropping the favor bag into the box before he settled back in his seat.

“Someone had to do it,” You insisted. “Jenna’s work schedule is nuts, you and Thomas are swamped at the base, and neither of them have family here. Would you rather I didn’t do anything?”

Jake was quiet for a moment, his gaze sweeping your face.

“...Okay,” He conceded after a moment.

“Okay?” You repeated, watching him pluck up a new bag.

“You’re right,” He shrugged.

“Then what the fuck was with the third degree?”

“Just wanted to see you squirm a little.”

“...Nice of you to do it without damaging any bags this time,” You sniffed, turning back to the favors.

“There’s still time.”

“I will cut your dick off.”

Jake just laughed loudly, tipping his chin back with the force of it. You glanced over at him, feeling a slight lightening toward him. He held his hands up in concession, and you each turned back to your favors. You reached out for the candy, going still as his hands brushed yours.

“Ladies first,” He insisted, drawing back. You mumbled your thanks, grabbing a handful of candies and leaning back in your seat again. You found that you didn’t mind the light small talk that Jake made after that. The questions leveled at you were less probing, and far less irritating. As the evening went on, you didn’t even mind the way Jake smiled at you, or the feeling of him watching you. He was still an asshole, sure—but he was an asshole that was making favors way faster than before.

“What do you have to do this week?”

“Uh,” You sighed, then trilled your lips as you clicked through your email. “Not a ton, actually. I have to pick up my dress…And the bachelorette party is tonight.” You shifted your phone between your shoulder and your ear, eyeing your work email. “What about you guys?”

“Not much, far as I know. I was calling you for my marching orders,” Jake insisted.

You smiled a little, shaking your head.

“There isn’t a ton this week. We’ll have to pick up the flowers next week and get those and some of the other things over to the venue—you know, the favors and stuff.”

“You gonna need my help with that?”

“TBD.”

“Gimme a call if you do. I’ll be happy to lend my strong arms to those flower arrangements.”

“I’m never letting you anywhere near a vase again.”

“You ever gonna get over that?”

“Fuck no.”

“Seriously, though. Let me know if there’s anything you need.”

“Don’t worry about it. I know your schedule is hell this week.”

“Tom tell you that?”

“No, Jenna did—though presumably, Thomas told her, so technically.”

“If you change your mind, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Yeah, I will.” Then, against your better judgement, “Thanks, Jake.”

“Anytime, sweetheart. Can’t have that pretty little head popping off from stress.”

And there it is. That was what you got for being nice to Jake fucking Seresin.

“I’m hanging up now,” You warned.

“Alright,” He chuckled. “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Yep. Bye.”

You pulled your phone away, hesitating for just a second before hanging up. He was ridiculous. But Jenna wasn’t completely wrong—he was sort of a good guy, when he wanted to be. And he was sort of attractive, in an All-American, smarmy, smirking kinda way. His lips were nice, and his eyes were sort of…Entrancing…But he was fine, whatever happened. He was sort of fine to you now.

And you had yet to have another purse incident, so maybe he really was trying.

“Are y’all havin’ a nice time?”

The smile was clear in his voice, and you wanted to damn it. But, something in your belly went sweet and warm at the question. Then again, maybe it wasn’t him. Maybe it was the tequila shots…Or the espresso martinis…Or the vodka soda.

“Why do you—Seems like…Weird to ask,” You managed before pressing your hand over your mouth to swallow a burp.

“Saw you on Jenna’s instagram.”

“Oh,” You frowned. That must’ve been why she’d been holding her phone up at you and crowing, Wooo! while you'd all taken shots a few minutes ago. You cleared your throat before reaching for your drink.

“Why are you calling me?” You added.

“Just makin’ sure you have a safe way home.”

“Pfff, it’s fine. Tom’s gonna come get Jenna.”

“I know. I didn’t mean Jenna. I meant you.”

“I’ll get a car or somethin’.”

“I’d feel better if I came and got you.”

“I dunno how much longer we’re gonna be—and don’t you have a super early morning?”

“Who says?”

“Jenna…And probably Tom, which is how I got the—”

“Right,” Jake cut you off. “I’ll be fine. Just lemme know when you need me to come and getchya.”

“Why Mr. Sersin, that might be the nicest—” You winced as you hiccuped. “Nicest thing you’ve ever done.”

“For you?”

“I’m thinking, like, ever, probably.”

Jake chuckled on the other end of the phone, and you slid down in your seat a little, stomach twisting with the sound.

“Lemme know,” He repeated.

“Yessir.”

“You gonna thank me again?”

“Maybe when you get here.”

“You gonna thank me now?”

“Nope,” You shook your head, buckling up.

“Why not?”

“I want nuggies and fries. Can we go to McDonald’s?” You tipped your head to the side, smiling widely at him.

“Oh, so now I’m getting you food, too?” Jake asked, pulling into traffic.

“S’what you get for volunteering me to take me home…And for ruining my purse.”

“How many times do I have to apologize for that?”

“I’ll let you know when you hit capacity,” You slid down in your seat, resting your head back and closing your eyes. Oh—No, bad plan, bad plan. Your stomach twisted, and you forced your eyes open again, swallowing thickly. Very, very bad plan. You tipped your head to the side again, eyeing Jake. He looked quite handsome, his eyes flashing with the odd shine of streetlights. You blinked slowly, taking him in. Was he always this attractive? The guy’s face should be on posters or something.

“You doin’ okay over there?”

His voice was nice, too. It was warm and soothing, and sweet. You turned to look forward again as you saw him shift to look at you.

“Fine,” You mumbled. “Hungy.”

“Hungry?”

“Hungy,” You insisted.

“Still want nuggets and fries?”

“Uh-huh. Please.”

“Alright,” He nodded, turning the car into the McDonald’s drive thru.

“And a Sprite,” You added.

“You’re getting water.”

“Water and Sprite.”

“...Fine.”

“Thank you.”

“Say it again.”

“Get fucked.”

He grinned, teeth shining in the glow of the drive thru's fluorescent light. You watched him as he rolled his window down, leaning out to give your order. You reached down, taking up your purse and poking through it.

“Put that away,” Jake waved you off.

“What? No. It’s my food.”

“I don’t care. Put your money away.”

“No.”

“You’re not paying.”

“I’m gonna pay!”

“No, you’re not.”

You pouted as Jake reached out to pay with his own money. You glanced around the car, frowning. You reached out quietly, carefully opening the glove compartment and tucking the money inside. Then you rooted around innocently as Jake turned back to you.

“What are you looking for?” He asked.

“Hand sanitizer or something,” You shrugged, shoving the glove closed again.

“It’s right there,” Jake pointed to where it sat in his cupholder.

“Ah, neat,” You smiled smugly, taking it up and leaving room for him to set down your Sprite.

“Here,” He added, setting the bottle of water and bag of food down in your lap.

“Fuck me, that smells good,” You mumbled. Jake chuckled softly, steering the car toward the parking lot. You pushed yourself up in your seat, opening the bag.

“You get something, too?” You asked.

“Nope.”

“Then why are we stopping?”

“So you don’t get queasy, eating while we’re stopping and starting.”

“Shockingly nice of you.”

“Why is that shocking?”

“Cause you’re kind of a dick.” You didn’t even think about saying it. You just rooted through your bag and stuffed a handful of fries in your mouth.

“...You really think that?”

Your chewing slowed at his question. He didn’t even sound like he was teasing that time. You glanced over nervously, surprised to find him watching you. You swallowed thickly before you shrugged, picking up your sprite and taking a sip.

“I dunno,” You mumbled.

“You sounded pretty certain a moment ago.”

“You were a dick when I met you…And then for like two months after that.”

“Am I dick right now?”

“Mm…” You hummed, considering. “No. You’re kinda sweet now. It’s actually weirding me out a little bit. But,” You shrugged, drawing the nuggets out. “Maybe it’s not that weird. Jenna said you’re a good guy. She’s usually got a pretty good sense when it comes to people.”

“That’s what Thomas said.”

“Thomas was right. Is right.” You waved a hand dismissively. “You know what I mean. Want a nug?”

“Sure.”

You opened the box and plucked one out, holding it out to him. You were still digging into your fries with your other hand; you didn’t see Jake lean in. You just felt his lips and tongue brush your fingers as he took the nugget with his lips. Your heart stuttered in your throat, and you stayed perfectly still for a moment.

“S’good,” He mumbled, snapping you back into action.

“Hope so, you paid for it.”

“I’m not gonna go broke ordering from the Dollar Menu.”

“And getting a Sprite.”

“Thanks for the reminder.”

You glanced over, smiling a little as he took up the soda and took a sip.

“Get going on that water,” He added, nodding toward the bottle in your lap. “We don’t want you waking up with a hangover.”

You hummed, opening the water and taking a long, greedy sip.

“...Jake?”

“Mhm?”

“Why’d you offer to drive me home?”

“Wanted to make sure you got home okay.”

“Could’ve just asked Thomas to make sure I got in a car or something.” You turned to look at Jake, frowning as he reached into the bag and fished out a few fries.

“I’ll feel better seeing you get in myself.”

You watch him raise his fistful of fries, shoving a couple into his mouth.

Himself? He could’ve just let it go. He could’ve texted you or Jenna in the morning to make sure. You bit your lip, taking hold of the sprite and swirling the ice around a little in the cup.

“...Jake?”

“Mm?”

“You’re not a dick.”

“Careful, sweetheart. Wouldn’t want you saying something you regret while under the influence.”

You rolled your eyes a touch, shaking your head and looking down at the food in your lap.

“...Think you may have been a little right, too,” You mumbled.

“What do you mean?”

“About…You know. Taking the wedding over. I don’t think I’m gonna get there, you know?” The admission thickened your throat as it left, and welled tears up in your eyes. You found yourself glaring down at the food, as if that would fend off the way your tipsiness and insecurities were mingling. Jake’s enduring lack of response did nothing but make you feel even more silly, and even more exposed.

“...You don’t have to worry about that,” Jake said after a moment. You huffed out a bitter little laugh, shaking your head.

“I don’t know. I’m not exactly the easiest person to deal with.”

“You can be a little prickly,” He agreed, making you smile in spite of yourself. “But you’re pretty damn sweet once you let someone in. I don’t think I know anyone more loyal, more hardworking. Jenna and Thomas are lucky to have you.”

The compliments surprised you, and you couldn’t help but turn to look at him. You turned, expecting his usual cocky, teasing grin again. Instead, you found Jake watching you with a soft, kind smile. It made your heart leap into your throat. You hurriedly dropped your gaze back to your food, unsure of how to answer. He’d knocked you speechless.

“Finish your food,” Jake advised, reaching out and snagging another one of your nuggets.

“Don’t tell me what to do,” You grumbled, even as you fished into your bag for a few more fries.

“Watch that attitude, sweetheart. I’ll pour out that Sprite.”

You wake up with a throbbing head, a dry mouth and a text:

JS (Asshole)

Hope you listen to your alarm this morning

You couldn’t help but smile a bit, pushing yourself to lean back against your headboard. You hesitated before you opened your phone, texting back:

Thanks for the ride home. and the nugs.

You pushed yourself out of bed, groaning as you headed for the bathroom. By the time you returned you had three new texts from Jake:

And the fries?

And the water.

Not to mention the sprite.

Not to mention, but here you are, mentioning it.

Need me to do anything in the next couple of days?

Pick up your dress?

Your brows raised at the question, surprised that he remembered that that was on your list.

I can get it. Thanks, though.

You bit your lip, peering down at the phone. You found yourself wanting to keep talking to him—to ask how his day was going, what he had to get done that day, something—but instead you tossed your phone back onto the bed, scrubbing your hands over your face. Fuck, alright. You needed to get ready for work, and to stop thinking of why Jake’s name appearing on your screen made your belly flutter.

“You can unclench now.”

Unclench what? Your ass? Your jaw? You didn’t ask for clarification; you just threw a fireless, surly gaze back toward Jake. It didn’t hold at the sight of his easygoing smile. You couldn’t help but smile before you turned your head, turning to look at the checklist in your hands. You only had a few more things to do for the wedding tomorrow. The favors were at the venue; the flowers were arriving in the morning; you and Jake had set up the tables and chairs in the reception space, and in the ceremony space. The other bridesmaids, groomsmen, and the scant family members had already turned up and were milling about, but two very important people were missing.

“I will,” You raised your hand to use air quotes, “‘unclench’ when everyone is accounted for. Honestly,” You reached down, plucking your phone out of your bag and peering at time. “If Jenna’s late for her own rehearsal, I’m gonna…”

“Gonna what?”

“...Scream?”

“You’re really gonna scream?”

“Just, like, in my head.”

“Would you scream aloud if I told you I didn’t have my suit ready?”

Your fingers flexed around your notes, your eyes narrowing at Jake as he shifted to sit in the ceremony seat in front of you.

“...Depends,” You spoke slowly. “Do you really not have it ready, or are you just fucking with me?”

“Just fucking with you.” He smiled cheekily up at you.

“Why are you like this?”

“You mean perfect?”

Before you could answer, you heard Jenna call out, “Sorry! Sorry, we hit traffic.”

You turned to see her and Thomas coming in together, their hands joined. You strolled over to her, meeting them in the middle as Thomas broke away from her.

“Did y’all really get stuck in traffic?” You asked.

“No. We pulled over to fuck in a parking lot.”

You snorted a laugh, unable to help it.

“Speaking of which,” She added, looping her arm through yours. “Have you met Tommy’s brother?”

“I think we, like, said hi,” You shrugged.

“I’m sitting you two together at the rehearsal dinner.”

“Why?”

“Cause you need to get some, lady. This wedding’s got you all wound up—and you’re not even the one getting married.”

You didn’t have a chance to argue, or a chance to analyze why your gaze absently darted to Jake at her assertion. Jenna was already waving to the others.

“Alright!” She called out. “Let’s get this over with, I’m fucking starving!”

“What are you doing here?”

You couldn’t help but ask. It was early, and stunning to see him there, surrounded by mason jars, bundles of flowers, and bites of twine. Jake hardly looked away from his work.

“What’s it look like?” He asked.

“It looks like you’re winding up to ruin some purses.”

He did smile then, peering up at you from under his lashes.

“You gonna stand there and sass me, or are you going to help?”

You smiled, shrugging your bag off of your shoulder as you joined him at the table.

“You been here long?” You asked.

“About ten minutes.”

“Could’ve told me you’d be here early, I would’ve been here with you.”

“Figured you could use a bit of a break.”

You reached out, untying a bundle of flowers and tucking them into a half-filled mason jar. You could feel Jake glancing toward you. You’d become so familiar with his side-eyed speculation over the last couple of weeks that the feeling was unmistakable.

“...You seemed to be having fun last night,” He said. Your brow knitted together.

“At the rehearsal?”

“Dinner,” He clarified. You shrugged a little.

“It was a nice dinner.”

“Looked like you were having a nice conversation with Chris.”

Your hands went briefly still with confusion for a moment. Sure, Jenna had made the introduction to Thomas’ brother, and sure, the two of you had spoken a little, but…Well, you didn’t think it was anything that Jake would’ve noticed, or anyone else for that matter.

“It was alright,” You shrugged. “We were just talking. He’s nice.”

“Gonna save him a dance later?”

You chuckled, shrugging.

“Probably not.”

“...Gonna save me a dance later?”

You pushed the jar aside, reaching for the next bundle. You didn’t dare look at Jake as your face heated.

“Play your cards right, Seresin, I might even save you two.”

It felt dangerous to offer, and silly to say. But—

“I’ll be on my best behavior.” He leaned in to promise it; the murmur of it brushed against the shell of your ear. You swallowed thickly, fighting off a shiver as you reached for the next bundle of flowers.

You had the silliest thought as you walked down the aisle—as you took careful, even steps in your nude-toned heels, the fabric of your jewel-toned dress swirling around your ankles. You couldn’t think of anyone else—not Thomas ahead of you, or Jenna behind you. Your eyes were set on Jake—on the way he was grinning at you, watching you as though you’d hung the sun in the sky just for him. You took your place alongside the other bridesmaids, hands flexing around your bouquet. You caught Jake’s eye on the way to watch Jenna come down the aisle, grinning as he shot you a wink.

It had been a long few months, a hellish experience at the start. But Thomas and Jenna were having their day the way they wanted it. The DJ was ready, the catering was setting up, the photographer was on deck to take photos of the ceremony and the wedding party—and so long as all of that stayed on track, you might be able to relax.

“Thought I’d find you out here.”

You looked up, smiling tiredly as you spotted Jake. You’d taken refuge in the area outside of the reception hall, on one of the few benches in the unoccupied smoking area. You’d drawn your feet out of your shoes, resting your heels in them as you flexed your aching toes.

“I needed some air,” You shrugged, “And some quiet. It’s been a loooong day.”

Your eyes darted to Jake’s chest as he nimbly undid the buttons of his jacket. He settled onto the bench beside you before he reached around, setting his jacket around your shoulders. You smiled, reaching up and tugging it closer to yourself.

“Such a gentleman.”

“Don’t get too excited. I still owe you a purse.”

You laughed, tipping your head back against the wall.

“I think we’re even.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” You nodded, smiling at him. “I’m sure.”

You were both quiet for a moment, just taking one another in as the sounds of the party drifted out to the two of you.

“Don’t get too comfortable,” Jake warned. You frowned, but he added, “Think you can stand those shoes just long enough for that dance you owe me?”

You chuckled. “You were on such good behavior, I think I owe you two.”

“We can start with one,” He offered, standing and holding his hand out to you. “Sock the other one away for later.”

You smiled, slipping your feet back into your shoes properly and taking hold of Jake’s hand. It felt easy—warm and welcoming as it delicately cradled yours. His hand smoothed under the jacket and over your lower back, drawing you close as you raised your other hand to his shoulder. The two of you swayed gently with the music drifting from the reception. You found yourself holding Jake’s gaze, and wanting to hold it. Just a little ago, you might’ve shied away. A few weeks ago, you wouldn’t have even taken his hand.

“Thank you for your help for the last couple of weeks,” You said. “I’ve really appreciated it.”

“Happy to.”

“Happy to the whole time?”

“I took a little warming up…But so did you.”

“Yeah,” You conceded, “I did.”

Jake’s brows rose, chin tipping down in amusement.

“Did you just agree with me?”

“It’s happened before,” You laughed.

“And I savor it every time.”

You rolled your eyes at his insistence, playing at annoyance. The feeling was promptly shaken as his thumb swept over your lower back.

“You’re a drama queen, Seresin.”

“I won’t be a groomzilla. You have my word.”

“Oh, do I?” You chuckled. “Why would you need to give me your word for that?”

“Because I realized something today.”

“What’s that?”

“The next time I see you walking down the aisle toward me, I want you wearing a white dress.”

Your stomach flipped, your feet freezing in their place. Jake didn’t belabor the swaying. He went as still as you did, holding your gaze with sweet stubbornness. Your heart thudded roughly in your chest; your mouth went dry.

“...That’s a very bold statement, Seresin.”

You wanted to sound firm, imposing, but you knew that you sounded unsure, and nervous. Jake nodded.

“I know.”

“What if you’re wrong?”

“I’m not.”

“What if you change your mind—?”

“I’m not going to change my mind.”

“You hardly know me.”

“I know you better than you think. And I’m not asking you to marry me tomorrow.” He tipped his head to the side, holding your gaze. “But I am going to ask. You can count on that.”

You could dismiss it. You could tell Jake that he was being silly. You could tell him that he was drunk, that he didn’t mean it. You could pull back, go inside.

But you didn’t want to. You didn’t want to draw away; you didn’t want to pretend that this was some drunken rambling. You just swallowed thickly.

“Are you going to get me an engagement purse?”

Jake’s grin was bright and beautiful, and you were pressed so closely to his chest that you felt the rumble of his laugh. He drew you closer, resting his forehead against yours.

“I will get you whatever you want, sweetheart.”

You grinned, looping your arm around his neck and drawing him closer. Your heart stuttered as Jake’s nose nudged yours, his breath brushing across your lips. You tipped your chin up toward him, unable to stop your smiling as Jake closed the gap. Your eyes slipped closed as you allowed yourself to melt into his chest, enraptured with the feeling of his tender kiss. You giggled as his hand slid down your lower back, hovering just above your ass.

“Watch it with that, mister,” You warned. “You gotta buy me dinner first.”

“The nugs don’t count?”

You leaned back a little, considering.

“Alright. One squeeze,” You warned, raising a finger to point at him. Jake laughed.

“We got time, sweetheart. I’ll save it up.”

Tag list: @missredherring ; @fantasticcopeaglepasta ; @paintballkid711 ; @massivecolorspygiant ; @blueeyesatnight; @recklessworry ; @amneris21 ; @ew-erin ; @youngkenobilove ; @carbonated-beverage ; @lorecraft ; @moonlightburned ; @milf-trinity ; @nolanell ; @millllenniawrites ; @chattychell ; @dihra-vesa ; @videogamesandpoorlifechoices ; @missswriter ; @thembosapphicclown ; @brandyllyn ; @wildmoonflower ; @buckybarneshairpullingkink ; @mad-girl-without-a-box ; @winchestershiresauce ; @tropes-and-tales

#Jake Seresin x Reader #Jake Seresin x You #Jake Hangman Seresin x Reader #Hangman x Readear #Jake Seresin/Reader #Jake Seresin/You #The Worst Best Man

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chiriwritesstuff · 11 months

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Meet Me at the Farmers Market! - 1. Jealousy, Jealousy

Farmers Market! Joel Miller x Confident! Plus Sized F! Florist Reader

Series Masterlist

Series Summary: What does a Contractor do in his spare time? Sell his wood carvings at the Saturday Farmers Market, of course! A Grumpy x Sunshine Joel Miller series collective of one shots, Updates every Saturday!

Rating: M

Word Count: 1063

Warnings: Jealous! Joel Miller, Tommy is a meddling little shit, Reader likes to ogle her too-hot market neighbor (I mean, who wouldn't?!) no outbreak! Verse Joel Miller, everyone has asses that just. Don't. QUIT!!!!

Summary: Tommy thinks y'all should stop dancing around your feelings for each other and just date already.

A/N: Hello there!

This is completely a self-indulgent fic! I was completely blown away by all of the interest in this series, and I want to thank every single one of you who has liked and reblogged my series masterlist so far!

This isn't going to be in a linear format or have continuous chapters, but will be more of a short-story format between the lives of Joel and his Sunflower. Hope you all enjoy!

Divider by the lovely @saradika

"You know, I think you guys should date."

As Tommy helps you unload a basket of baby's breath from your van, you look at him and ask, "Is that right? Pray tell, Thomas Miller, Why do you think that?"

"Well, for starters, you're crazy about him," he replies, waggling his eyebrows. "I can see how you stare at him like he's the finest cut of meat at Whole Foods. I should get you a drip cloth for all that drooling you be doing," he chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest.

You roll your eyes and shove a bucket of single-stemmed roses into his chest. "Oh please. I think it's more concerning that you just compared your brother to a piece of meat," you say as you place a checkered tablecloth on your foldable table, preparing for the morning market.

"His head is definitely full of it," he laughs. "Besides, I think he's crazy for you too."

You laugh and reply, "All he does is complain that my tent is encroaching on his 'walk space' and how my bouquets attract all the bees. I don't think he's said one nice thing to me since I started vending at the market."

"Don't you know that the more you hate, the more you love?" he teases. "I know my brother," Tommy says, motioning towards your grumpy, yet attractive, next-door vendor. Joel, in his green flannel and almost too-tight jeans, it's criminal, really, how nice his ass looks in them - finally acknowledges the two of you with a roll of his eyes.

"Tommy," Joel yells across the way, "I could use some help, once you're done flirting with little miss Sunflower over there," he says, placing his crate on his table with a little more force, mumbling to himself as he calls for Sarah.

"See? He's jealous. Thinks I have the hots for you," Tommy appraises your form, whistling. "I might have mentioned how you looked really nice last week, you know, in your denim cut-offs. And he might have mentioned that you had an - and I quote - ass that just doesn't quit."

"He did not!" you reply as you playfully whack his arm with a towel. "Come on, help me with this sign so you can go back to Mr. Grumpy Butt over there. Wouldn't want him grumbling about how I stole his brother…"

"He's a big boy, he can manage. He only has those little critters that he carves, and you have buckets of flowers. I'd like to think that my services are better utilized here, don't you think? I mean, look at him!" Tommy motions to Joel, who has stopped setting up his stand and is openly glaring at the both of you, his hands clenched and knuckles turning white. "I'm doing you a favor, honey bee. He's just shy under all of that grumpy ass attitude. Just ask him out, see where it goes." Tommy crinkles his eyes at you as he pats you on your head.

You swear you see Joel looking at the both of you as Tommy winks at you and heads back to his 'Reclaiming Miller' stand.

"What kind of a business name is that?" you think to yourself, chuckling as you close the doors of your van.

Later, as the market comes to a close and you place the final empty bucket into your van, you walk over to Joel's 'Reclaiming Miller' stand as he folds a tablecloth.

"Do you need a hand?" you ask sweetly.

"I got it," he replies with a grunt, dismantling his fold-up table and propping it against his truck. "It's funny," he adds, glaring at you, "that Tommy is nowhere to be found when I need help but magically appears once your van rolls in," he shakes his head. "Why don't you put him out of his misery and just ask him out?"

"… sounds like you're jealous, Mr. 'Reclaiming Miller'."

"Trust me, I'm not," he replies, rolling up the sleeves of his flannel as he tries to accommodate the Texas heat. You try very hard not to ogle the veins that run down his arms, swallowing as you try to remain indifferent to the very hot, grumpy man in front of you. You had a crush on Joel ever since you started the Saturday markets, approaching your new neighbor with a small bonsai tree as you introduced yourself. He took it from your hands carefully, inspecting it with a bit of wonder in his eyes. "Your tent is three inches off from your marker, by the way," he replies as he places the bonsai off to the side of his display table. "You might want to get that checked out, don't want to get a fine or anything like that." You decide then that he's one of those vendors, the ones who are sticklers for the rules and complete nightmares to those around them, but yet…

He is rather nice to look at, you think.

"… why would I ask someone I'm not interested in out on a date, Joel?" you reply, approaching him. "I mean, he did tell me that you thought I had an 'ass that just doesn't quit'," you say in his ear, tiptoeing up to his broad form, "is that what you really think, Miller?" you tease, his Adam's apple bobbing. "What if I want to ask you out? What would you say? Would you say yes? Because I think I would like that if you did."

But then, to your surprise, he smiles.

"… I thought we already got past dating, Sunflower," he replies as he kisses you, soft and sweet. His hands grab your hips as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. His hands travel to your ass, squeezing them as he groans into your kiss.

"Besides," he adds, "You know damn well how much I appreciate this ass." He winks, slapping it for good measure.

“Yeah, yeah, Miller. I'll see you at my place later?” you say as you head over to your van. “It's your turn to choose the movie tonight, if it's a good one you might just get laid” you tease.

“Oh baby girl, I'll get mine regardless, don't you worry,” he replies hungrily, waving as he enters his truck. “You just wear that thing I like, and I'll make it worth your while, promise.”

“You better!”

#joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller x plus size reader #joel tlou #joel the last of us #joel miller imagine #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller fic #tlou fic #joel miller x oc #joel miller x y/n #pedro pascal fandom #pedro pascal fanfiction

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honeybeezgobzzzzz · 10 months

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☠️ Something Dread, Something Red: Chapter One

Something Dread, Something Red: Stuck in a proposal to a Marine Commodore, you escape minutes before your wedding in one last ditch effort to avoid getting married to a tyrant. Barely making it to the port of your town, you stumble across a ship just starting to leave and beg for passage off the island. You fail to notice that the people you beg for help, are pirates.

Warnings: Allusions of Domestic Violence.

To Note: “Red Haired” Shanks x FemReader

Word Count: ~2.6k

Masterlist | Next

The night is darkest at dawn. Just before the first rays of the new day strike the horizon, the night draws infinitely black, offering the last bit of night before being smothered by the sun. You love the silence it brings, giving you a break from the cumbersome and structured life you live. Yet that indulging peace is fleeting, never long enough for you to taste what you truly long for, only taunting you with something that you’d never reach. Sighing, you rest your chin on your gathered knees and enjoy what will be your last sunrise at Bonn Manor.

You’ve been born on the grounds, raised in its elegant halls, and soon, you will be married in its chestnut grove. The wedding has been planned for nearly a year, your engagement? Years. Everything has been meticulously designed down to the length of a single blade of grass. Your mother is a bit of a control freak, and she hasn’t let you put in one word edgewise—and it’s your own wedding! Not that you are surprised, you’ve never once had the pleasure of even choosing your own outfits or meals.

In hindsight, it saves you many a headache for you haven’t lifted a finger in the entire process. The florist has been given strict directions on what bouquets, boutonnières, and accents should look like, not to mention the flower choice. The bakery in the heart of your island has no doubt been working overtime to supply the cake and other specialty confectionery, and the tailor has almost moved into the manor to finish the work on your dress.

Your dress.

It has been in production for nearly eight months. Your town, Kuri Island, while known for its chestnut trees, is also famed for its lacework. Leagues and leagues of lace have been stitched just for your dress, and that doesn’t even include your outrageous veil! It is enormous, beaded, and decorated with innumerable cloth flowers. Your mother really hasn’t spared any expense, tutting that this has been her lifestyle dream to see you married to a powerful man that will ensure that your noble bloodline continues to prosper.

That and the family business. The Bonn’s have a monopoly on the chestnut and lace industry on Kuri Island, ruling with an iron fist and ensuring that they remain the most powerful on the island. Your fiancé is the next in line, power-wise. As a Marine Commodore, Thomas Collins is the only man on the island worthy of your hand… and in just a few short hours, he’ll have it.

But not by your choice.

This is an arranged marriage drafted by your parents when you were just a teen, to a man very much your senior who cares little for your feelings. Worse? He isn’t a good man, or a good Marine. As much as your mother has tried to control the whispers that reach your delicate ears, you know the reputation Thomas has among the commoners. He isn’t a good man, he has a habit of cruelty to those far beneath himself, and you’ve even heard rumors of bribery. But politics and Berry have trumped over your personal feelings. You can’t refuse this marriage; your opinion can’t even leave your lips.

Just as the sun begins to rise above the horizon, your maids bustle into your room followed by additional ones to tackle the great task of getting you ready for the wedding in a few hours. Ann and Gerbera, your personal maids, hustle over to you. While Ann scans your lavender bedhead, Gerbera takes your hand and inspects your nails.

“I haven’t gone and ruined my nails,” you murmur, not taking your eyes off the glow of the morning sunrise.

“Your mother requested an inspection, my lady,” Gerbera replies, scanning your immaculate fingernails. “Lest you had made an attempt to flee during the night.”

“And where would I go?” you ask vaguely, your eyes taking on a faraway and clouded look. The maids often see it appear within your eyes the closer the wedding draws. They are not oblivious to the matter that you don’t wish to marry Thomas. They have most definitely witnessed your private breakdowns over the years as you slowly realize that your life has never been your own. They are good to you, excellent maids who take pride in caring for their lady… but they can’t even move a single finger to help you in your predicament.

“Never mind that, off to the baths,” Ann softly preens, trying to find light in the fact that you will be glowing with beauty once they are done dressing you for your wedding. You let Gerbera pull you from your lonesome and brooding perch, guiding you through your rooms to the grand bathroom that already steams with scented water. You can smell the strong scent of rose and argan oil rising from the bubbling water. You’ve been taking baths thrice weekly to soften your skin to that of the finest satin on your mother’s orders, and have started hating the scent. It makes you nauseous. This will be your last so you will bear it.

Standing in place, Ann and Gerbera delicately undo the strings to your nightdress, pulling it from your body to leave you naked. You don’t hesitate to step down into the bath. The hot water does very little to ease your growing nausea and discomfort. You know it won’t. But at the very least it feels nice on your stiff body. You have sat at your window for hours without moving, your mind spinning and descending into the dark depths of the pit of hell you’ll soon be living in.

Gerbera kneels behind you and takes your long lavender hair in hand, gently running an ivory comb through the tangled strands. You wince every time she catches a knot. Gerbera murmurs an apology each time and carefully unravels the knot of hair. Your lavender locks aren’t usually a mess, but you’ve tossed and turned all last night before getting up a few hours ago to wait for the sunrise. At the very least, once you are married you’ll have more control over the length of your hair. The extraneous length is cumbersome and almost like chains to weigh you down. Well, almost every part of your life is some sort of chain or prison.

So while Gerbera continues to tend to your hair, Ann takes to massaging oils into your hands and buffing your already immaculate nails. They take extra care in placing dabs of oil in key places on your body. Behind your ears, along your neck, and across your wrists. As you walk, the oils will diffuse into the air around you, perfuming you and leaving behind the scent of rose. A scent that drowns you in hatred. It is always rose this or rose that. Rose jewelry and rose dresses. Even a rose-themed bedroom!

If you never smell another rose after this blasted wedding you will die a happy woman…

You stay in the bath as long as you’re allowed, but the strict voice of your mother ringing from your bedroom has Ann and Gerbera pulling you from the bath and wrapping you in a towel. They dry you off in record time, no doubt saving you from a stern lecture, and wrap your wet hair in a drying towel. The three of you wince when your mother’s voice turns sharp and she nearly starts shrieking at the poor girl who added an extra rose to your bouquet.

“It’s not even seven o’clock yet and the madam is already angry,” Ann murmurs, almost hesitant to push you back into your bedroom.

“It’s a perpetual state I believe,” you reply, twisting your fingers together. “The day she is pleasant is the day the world has ended.” Toweled dry, you don a robe and reluctantly head back to your bedroom. Your mother is still harping on the poor girl who got the number of flowers wrong in your bouquet when you appear. She rounds on you like a viper and you have a brief momentary thought that she might give herself whiplash.

“You!” she barks out. “Why are you not sitting down for your hair and makeup?” You remain silent and simply lower yourself to the velvet and satin chair in front of your vanity. She continues to berate you for things you have no control over and complain over nonexistent errors. It will be all over in a few hours; you’ll trade one jailer for another.

Your hair is dealt with first. Being so long, it takes perhaps nearly half an hour to brush it out smooth and braid it. Then it is swirled and pinned into place upon your head with crystal-studded pins that dig into your scalp in a painful reminder. You’ve been complimented on how lovely the crystal and flower pins look within your lavender-colored hair, and combined with the minimal makeup being painted upon your face you are sure to look the picture of perfection.

“Heavens, Linaria, could you at the very least respect your mother enough to get sleep during the night!” Your mother huffs, fretting and tutting over the bags beneath your eyes the makeup slowly conceals. “I have worked tirelessly to perfect this wedding and I will not have you ruining it with an unsightly appearance.”

“Yes, mother,” you reply obediently. Her eyes, echoing your own but with a much harsher tint, narrow and she scoffs.

“Knowing you, you’ll make a scene at the reception or even ruin the vows. Commodore Collins isn’t expecting a wildling for a wife! He is expecting a well-bred, well-taught, and docile wife to meet him at the altar. Do not disappoint me.” Your eyes meet hers in the mirror for a brief moment before you drop your gaze. Your silence isn’t the answer she expects and taloned nails sink into your pinned hair, yanking your head back.

Yelping, your fingers dig into your robe as you are forced to look into her cruel and hard eyes.

“Am I clear? You are to behave, Linaria, do not disappoint this family again,” her warning is well and clear within her eyes. This is the last one she’ll give you. Swallowing thickly, you agree in the softest voice.

“Yes, mother,” your hair is released and you take in a silent breath of relief, grateful that she isn’t tugging on your hair still. You are sure that a few of the pins will have to be righted after her harsh hold.

“I have to greet our guests, get her ready to dress,” your mother snaps before striding from your bedroom in a swirl of heavy skirts. Rubbing your neck with a slight wince, Ann takes place behind you and quickly fusses with your hair to return it to pristine condition.

“We beg you, my lady,” Ann pleads, her fingers gently placing the pins back in order. “I fear what will happen to you the next time you go against the madam.”

“And where exactly would I go at a time like this?” you reply, looking at Ann in the mirror. “The manor and grounds are crawling with visitors, the help, and guards. I have nowhere to go. Besides,” you glance at the wedding dress on the mannequin in your room. “You think I could run in that? The thing weighs more than I do soaking wet.”

After Ann and Gerbera get your hair and makeup just perfect, they’re dismissed by your mother’s personal maids. She doesn’t trust you with your personal maids and has ordered her own to see to dressing you. So you are alone with maids that have no issue enforcing your mother’s orders. They have you get up and stand in the middle of your room, fluttering around while gathering up the layers of your outfit.

You are already in your underwear and bra, a decorative set that your mother has insisted you wear for the wedding, so when you peel the robe from your body you aren’t especially shy. Valeria, your mother’s favorite, brings over the heavy dress and with the help of Clover, maneuvers the top of the dress over your head. Despite being made from airy lace, the bones of the ballroom dress are metal and ridged, structuring the dress in the precise way your mother wants your body to look.

As you place your arms in the three-quarter sleeves with layered lace and starched silk, Valeria’s fingers are quick to work on the strings of the corset. She tightens it immediately, making a small noise of pain emerge from your lips, and only draws the strings tighter and tighter. As elegant and beautiful as you may look, you feel like you are being tied into a jail cell. Clover joins in on tugging the corset tight, and the bruising tightness only grows worse.

You want to bite your lip as your ribs begin to screech at you, not liking the pressure. But heaven forbid you turn up to your wedding with bitten and chewed lips. Clenched fingers it is. Several minutes later, after being jerked around and squeezed most viciously, the extravagant veil is being pinned into your hair. Another weight to add. Valeria departs to report to your mother while Clover remains to watch over you. Walking over to the grand mirror in your bedroom, you stare at yourself in dread.

You look like a trussed turkey heading for the dinner table.

You can admit that you look beautiful, the shape of your waist cinched in and the wide neckline decorated with fabric rose buds accented your collarbones. Months of work on the lace detailing has pulled out a wedding gown fit for a princess… or a lady from a very rich family. But you can’t enjoy your beauty, you can’t giggle or dance as the skirts of your dress swirl around your feet. You can’t enjoy anything about the dress, no matter how expensive or luxurious it is.

By some grace, an extra maid pokes her head into your bedroom with a red face. She begins rattling off a bunch of issues with minor details of the ceremony space that your mother is throwing an absolute fit over, and Clover glances at you with a worried look. You can see her thought process. She is supposed to watch over you, but the wedding will not commence without everything being perfect. Well, it isn’t like you are going to go anywhere. So Clover quickly follows the maid, leaving you in suffocating silence.

Suffocating is an understatement.

Your heart is trying to beat its way out of your chest in pure fear. You have but a mere fifteen minutes before you will be truly locked in an inescapable prison. If you thought it was hard to breathe wearing this dress it is nothing compared to the looming doom that is mere minutes away. Your eyes flicker to the balcony of your bedroom; the doors have been locked after you tried running before… but with the cleaning of the manor in anticipation for the wedding, they are no longer barred from use.

Memories of what happened to you as a result of being caught and dragged back to the manor flicker into your mind. You’ve never been in that much pain. Fear of repercussion prickles in your veins, rooting you to where you stand. Eyes catching sight of the tops of the ships harbored, your throbbing heart leaps into your throat.

“I’ll never have another chance,” you whisper to yourself, desperation winning over fear.

Date Published: 11/13/23

Last Edit: 7/29/24

Masterlist | Next

#one piece #one piece shanks #shanks x y/n #shanks x you #shanks x reader #red haired shanks

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honey-milk-depresso · 8 months

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Batfam Masterlist

Bruce Wayne

nothing yet!

Richard (Dick) Grayson

Florist S/o

With an s/o completely opposite of them

Spider-s/o

Game + streamer s/o

Batbros watching anime with you

Batfam x s/o in an escape room

Jason Todd

Florist S/o

With an s/o completely opposite of them

Spider-s/o

Game + streamer s/o

Batbros watching anime with you

Batfam x s/o in an escape room

A Desperate Rescue (Oneshot)

Tim Drake

19 Reasons (Tim's Birthday oneshot)

Florist S/o

With an s/o completely opposite of them

Spider-s/o

Game + streamer s/o

Batbros watching anime with you

Batfam x s/o in an escape room

Damian Wayne (Platonic for child Damian)

Spider-s/o

Batbros watching anime with you

Batfam x s/o in an escape room

Duke Thomas

Batbros watching anime with you

Batfam x s/o in an escape room

Cassandra Cain

Batfam x s/o in an escape room

Stephanie Brown

Batfam x s/o in an escape room

Barbara Gordon

nothing yet!

#batfam #batfam x reader #bat family #bat family x reader #dick grayson #jason todd #tim drake #damian wayne #bruce wayne #cassandra cain #duke thomas #barbara gordon #stephanie brown #batfam masterlist #batfam x reader masterlist

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parkerslatte · 11 months

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Until The Flowers Wilt

Matthew Fairchild x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.7k

Warnings: none. allusions to sex.

Summary: Y/N and Matthew have been friends for years. Everyone can see what the two feel for each other - everyone except Y/N and Matthew it seems.

Shadowhunter Chronicles Masterlist

•••

“Math,” James said as he watched his parabatai stare out of the window once again. “She’s going to be here soon, you don’t need to keep watch.”

Matthew’s gaze lingered out of the window for a moment longer before he turned to face James. “I’m not keeping watch.”

“Your face is practically glued to the window,” James pointed out. “She’s not meant to be here for another hour.”

“But what is she comes early?” Matthew scoffed. “She’ll be locked out in the cold.”

“I’m sure she will knock on the door,” James said, rolling his eyes.

By the time James had managed to coax Matthew away from the window seat, there was a knock on the door. Matthew immediately shot to his feet from the seat he had only just sat down in.

“I’ll get it,” Matthew announced before he began to exit the living area.

Cordelia appeared in front of him and placed a hand on his chest, halting his movements. “I’ll get it.”

Matthew let out a huff and took a few steps back as Cordelia left to greet the guest. James watched Matthew carefully as he rocked back on his heels watching the doorway. He had always seen the way Matthew acted around Y/N, and vice versa. It seemed to James that everyone could see what the two felt for one another, he even had long discussions with Cordelia about it while they should have been sleeping or doing something else.

When Y/N finally stepped into the room with a wide smile on her face she was instantly wrapped in a hug by Matthew. Initially she was shocked to be quite literally swept off her feet, but once she relaxed and recovered her arms wrapped around Matthew just as tightly.

“Don’t go away again,” Matthew mumbled into her hair.

Y/N chuckled. “I was only gone for two weeks!”

Matthew pressed a quick kiss to her cheek and pulled away from the hug, though he still kept his arms around her. “It was still too long for me.”

Y/N rolled her eyes playfully before stepping away from Matthew and wrapped James in a quick hug. “It’s good to see you too, Jamie.”

James smiled at Y/N as she took her place next to Matthew, unconsciously leaning into him. Matthew’s arm rested on her lower back, tugging her closer. The two shared a smile, seemingly lost within each other’s eyes.

From where Cordelia was leaning against the doorway, just behind Matthew and Y/N, James caught her eye and the two shared a knowing look before James spoke up, interrupting Matthew and Y/N from whatever trance they had put the other in.

***

It was a nice day when everyone sat together on a picnic blanket enjoying the sun. Matthew and Y/N were seemingly late everyone had noticed. The two hadn’t even sent word of their absence.

“Did they mention anything to you?” Thomas asked James.

James shook his head. “Matthew only told me that he would pick Y/N up in his carriage at midday.”

“Ah,” Anna spoke up, her gaze fixated over Thomas’s shoulder. “There they are now, only…” she checked her watch, “two hours late.”

When Matthew and Y/N approached, her arm was linked with his and she carried a large bouquet of flowers. Matthew’s gaze was planted firmly on her as she smiled brightly at everyone.

“Sorry we’re late!” Y/N said. “Instead of taking the carriage, we decided to walk because it would be a shame to waste the sunshine while sitting inside a dark and dreary carriage.”

“Where did the flowers come from?” Anna questioned, a teasing tone in her voice.

“Oh,” Y/N exclaimed as if she suddenly remembered she was holding them. “We walked past a florist and had a look inside. Matthew purchased these for me for my new flat!”

“They look expensive.”

“They were,” Y/N said. “That’s why I plan to pay him back soon.”

Matthew sent a glare her way. “You will do no such thing!”

Y/N looked up at him and grinned lazily. “Watch me.”

Matthew held her gaze for a moment before rolling his eyes playfully and sat himself down on the picnic blanket. As Y/N was about to be beside him, Matthew easily pulled her down so she sat in front of him, her back resting against his chest.

“Careful!” Y/N said. “You’ll crush the flowers.”

Matthew’s arms wrapped around her waist from behind. “Then I will just have to buy you more.”

Y/N turned her head to look at him. “You will do no such thing.”

Matthew’s head tilted towards her’s. Their faces were close but neither of the two acknowledged it, nor did they acknowledge all of the looks sent their way. Some of knowing, some of confusion and some of desperation. All they focussed on was each other.

“Won’t I?” Matthew mumbled.

“You won’t,” Y/N said, her gaze never leaving his eyes.

Matthew smiled. His nose brushed hers. “I will always buy you flowers because every beautiful thing deserves to be owned by the most beautiful woman.”

Y/N’s eyes widened the smallest amount. Her gaze remained on his eyes though her hand tightened on his wrapped around her waist. “You think I’m beautiful?”

“Of course I do,” Matthew said, kissing the tip of her nose before pulling his face away.

Y/N smiled as she reached forward to pick up a sandwich before relaxing fully against Matthew.

Everyone around them resumed their conversation but everyone noticed how Y/N intertwined her fingers with Matthew’s and how whenever Y/N shuffled or moved the slightest bit, Matthew’s gaze fell to her, full of love.

***

It was late at night when Matthew and Y/N had finally finished decorating Y/N’s flat. It had been a dreary day and with nothing else to do, Y/N contacted Matthew to help with her decorating. Matthew was knocking on her door not even fifteen minutes later.

Matthew was sitting on the couch while Y/N came in with two mugs of tea in her hands and placed them down on the table in front of them. The two sat side by side while the fireplace roared.

“Thank you for helping me today,” Y/N said, breaking the comfortable silence. “It would have been a boring day without you.”

Matthew smiled at the ceiling. “I’m glad I could help. And I’m happy you asked me.”

“There is no one else I would ask,” Y/N said. “Except maybe Thomas, he could easily reach the top of my bookshelf without using a chair.”

Matthew rolled his eyes and rested his head on Y/N’s shoulder. Y/N rested her head on top of his.

“My favourite decoration is still the flowers you bought me,” Y/N said. “Even if they are a little wilted by now.”

Matthew glanced over at the flowers she had put in a vase, one that Matthew had also bought her when she first moved into her flat.

“I will need to buy you more,” Matthew said. “And I don’t want to hear you object, because I will buy you more every single time the previous flowers begin to wilt.”

“You are impossible,” Y/N muttered.

“But you love me for it,” Matthew said.

Y/N didn’t respond but she smiled.

Matthew intertwined his fingers with hers before he lifted his head from her shoulder. “Dance with me.”

“What?” Y/N questioned.

Matthew stood up, pulling Y/N up with him. “Dance with me.”

“But there’s no music,” Y/N questioned as Matthew brought her into the centre of her living room.

“Who cares,” Matthew said before he wrapped his arm around Y/N’s waist and pulled her against his chest as the two simply swayed in the middle of the room. The only sound was the crackling fire.

Y/N had been close to Matthew before but there had usually been plenty of other people around. Now with only the two of them she felt her heart begin to beat rapidly.

Unbeknownst to her, Matthew was flustered. He hadn’t known what overcame him when he asked her to dance. Only that he had an overcoming urge to be close to her and hold her within his arms.

The fire crackled as the two continued to sway in the middle of the living room. Neither of the two were sure how long it had been since they had started. They were too wrapped up within one another to notice how much time had passed.

Matthew moved his head from where it had been looking over her shoulder to rest against Y/N’s forehead. She was truly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen. Everyday he would wake up and his first thought would be of her and how her hair looked in the sunlight. He would think of how she smiled when she was happy or found something mildly amusing. He thought of her kindness, her intelligence, her humour. He also thought of her touch and they way she always sought him out in a crowd. The way she would lean into him or link his arm while walking. The way she would mess his hair up when he did something mildly irritating. She was the only person he ever let do that.

Matthew’s eyes closed as he began to lean into Y/N, his breath mixing with hers. There was the smallest brush of his lips against hers and Matthew already craved more. He moved his hands to cup her cheeks and fully pressed his lips against Y/N’s. He nearly felt his heart explode.

Y/N tensed her whole body as soon as Matthew’s lips touched hers. The feeling wasn’t an unwelcome one but it was a shocking one. She didn’t move and let her hands drop down by her sides. Her brain was stalling her to kiss him back but her body wasn’t cooperating.

Matthew’s lips detached from hers, his eyes dark but blown wide as he realised what he just did. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

Matthew took several steps back from Y/N. “I’ll just go.”

Y/N watched him leave the room without another word. She called out to him but he didn’t reply. It was only when she heard her front door open and prompty close when her body finally allowed her to move.

She was at her doorway in an instant and swung open the door, not bothering with putting shoes or a jacket on. Luckily her flat was situated on the ground floor so Y/N was immediately opening the front door. It was pouring rain but she didn’t care, stepping outside barefoot and bare armed into the cold rain. She saw Matthew not too far ahead, his hand in the pockets of his trousers, his white shirt completely soaked through. In his haste to leave he hadn’t picked up his jacket.

“Matthew!” Y/N called while rushing down the street, stones dug into her feet but she didn’t care. The only thing on her mind was Matthew.

Matthew stopped and turned, he frowned as Y/N ran up to him. “What are you doing out here, Y/N? Go back inside.”

“No,” Y/N said. “You kissed me.”

Matthew sighed and avoided eye contact. “Can we just forget about that? I shouldn’t have done it and now I’ve ruined everything.”

Y/N shook her head. “‘Ruined everything’? How did you ruin everything?”

Matthew ran a hand through his wet hair, pushing it away from his eyes. “You didn’t kiss me back. I think that’s a clear enough answer for me.” Matthew turned to walk away.

“Because you didn’t give me a chance!” Y/N exclaimed. “You were pulling away and leaving before I ever got the chance to respond. I was shocked and confused. I think deep down I knew what I felt for you. I think it was easier for me to just mask it as a close friendship because I was scared you would never love me the way I love you.”

Matthew stilled before slowly turning to face her. “What do you mean, Y/N?”

“By the angel, you can be so stupid sometimes!”

Before Matthew had the chance to respond, Y/N clutched onto the front of his shirt and pulled him down to press her lips against his. The rain continued to pour around them but they didn’t care. Not when Matthew’s hands rested on her hips. Y/N felt the heat from his palms through the thin gown she wore, now completely drenched and clinging to her body.

Y/N’s arms moved from clutching Matthew’s shirt to wrap around his shoulder’s her hand resting on the back of his head deepening the kiss. Matthew let out a small noise as his fingertips dug into Y/N’s hips pulling her closer until her body was flush with his.

Matthew pulled away first and rested his forehead against Y/N’s breathing heavily. “Tell me what that meant.”

“Are you really-”

“I already know,” Matthew said. “But I want to hear you say it.”

Y/N smiled. “I am in love with you, Matthew Fairchild.”

Matthew pressed his lips against Y/N’s. It was brief but it told Y/N everything she needed to know.

“I want to hear you say it too,” Y/N muttered against his lips.”

“I. Love. You.” Matthew said, kissing her in between each word. “I will love you until I let any bouquet of flowers die.” Matthew pressed a soft kiss against the tip of her nose. “So now you cannot deny me when I buy them for you.”

The two stood with their arms wrapped around one another in the middle of the downpour, smiles on their faces. It wasn’t until Y/N shivered that the two broke whatever bubble they had been in.

“We should get back inside,” Y/N said. “There is a warm fire. Two cups of tea still not finished and…” Y/N leaned up to whisper in his ear. “A warm bed.”

Matthew smirked before he lifted Y/N up in his arms. She laughed in delight. “I am not opposed to that idea.”

***

The next morning everyone was waiting outside of Y/N’s flat. The previous day she had invited them all over to celebrate her moving into her new home.

“Is she even home?” Lucie asked.

“It’s Y/N,” Anna said. “When she makes plans, she sticks to them.”

“We’ve been waiting here for half an hour,” Thomas said. “Maybe she’s forgotten.”

Cordelia sighed before she pulled a key out of her bag. “Y/N gave me a key to her flat for emergencies.”

“But this isn’t an emergency,” James said.

“It may not be,” Cordelia said unlocking the door. “But I would like to know where Matthew is.”

The group looked around at one another, only noticing that Matthew wasn’t there.

“Y/N?” Cordelia announced as she stepped into her flat.

“Cordelia?” Matthew said, appearing from the kitchen carrying two mugs of coffee. He was shirtless and his trousers hung low on his waist. Cordelia averted her gaze.

“Y/N invited us to see her flat,” Cordelia said as everyone entered the flat behind her.

They all looked at Matthew. They all shared a look with one another but no one looked the slightest bit surprised.

“Matthew!” Y/N said, her footsteps padding down the hallway. “Could you help me with this, I can’t get it to stay in place.”

Y/N appeared in the living room, only wearing a white shirt. Y/N let out a noise of surprise when she noticed everyone standing in her living room.

Matthew placed the two mugs of coffee down before moving to shield Y/N’s body with his own.

“You can all make yourselves at home,” Y/N said as he and Matthew began to walk down the hallway. “We will be out in a minute.”

The group waited until they heard Y/N’s door close before laughing.

“It was about time,” James said, sitting on the couch and wrapped an arm around Cordelia, a wide smile on his face.

#matthew fairchild x fem!reader #matthew fairchild fic #matthew fairchild x reader #matthew fairchild #the last hours #the last hours x reader #shadowhunters #shadowhunter chronicles

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