#like the matt reactions look to genuinely like he got caught by surprise

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝟰 𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘𝗦 𝗧𝗛𝗔𝗧 𝗦𝗛𝗘 𝗠𝗔𝗗𝗘 𝗛𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗠𝗜𝗟𝗘

　　　　　　　　　　𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Y/N is the only person who can make Matt smile genuinely; OR 4 times that Y/N made Matt smile.

WARNING: None.

REQUESTED?: Yes, by anons.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism, copy, or "inspiration"! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

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1. Had Matt shaved his beard?

The morning started like any other in the triplets' house. The sun had barely risen over the horizon when the three found themselves in the typical kitchen, each of them still fighting sleep but ready to face another day of recording.

Nick was busy preparing breakfast, while Matt and Chris lounged lazily around the table, Chris with his head lying on the wooden surface.

"Smells good, Nick. What are you making?" Matt murmured, rubbing the drowsiness away from his eyes.

"Waffles and bacon." Nick responded in a low, slow tone, stirring the strips inside the ceramic frying pan.

"Bacon with waffles?" Chris grimaced, yawning loudly as he lifted his head, laying his body haphazardly on the chair.

Meanwhile, Y/N was still in her own world, enjoying a peaceful sleep in her shared room with Matt. However, her sleep was interrupted by the sound of a plate hitting the sink's marble counter, followed by a loud curse.

With a yawn, the girl slowly sat down on the bed, running a hand through her messy hair and running her sleepy eyes around the room, already having the idea that Matt was in the kitchen, where the sound had echoed from.

Seconds later, she got out of bed and headed to the bathroom, ready to start her morning routine. But something immediately caught her attention as soon as she entered the smaller room. On top of the sink was Matt's beard trimmer, an object she recognized all too well.

Her eyes widened in surprise, and she looked around, trying to process what she was seeing. Had Matt shaved his beard?

With her heart beating fast, Y/N ran back to the bedroom, grabbing the pajama shorts thrown on her boyfriend's gaming chair, quickly putting them on and finally leaving the room, completely ignoring her own messy appearance.

Back in the kitchen, the brothers were busy devouring the breakfast Nick had prepared. They barely noticed when Y/N walked out of the small hall that connected the room to her bedroom, her eyes fixed on Matt.

"Matt..." Her voice came out in an incredulous whisper as she approached, stopping in front of him and staring at his face intensely.

Matt looked up from his plate, smiling big when he saw her awake.

"Good morning, babe. How did you-" He interrupted his own sentence when he saw her condition, frowning in confusion and worry. "Hey, did something happen?"

Y/N swallowed hard, trying to maintain her composure, but the sight of Matt without a beard was too much for her. With a fake sob, she knelt before him, her eyes shining with false emotion.

"Matt, baby, how could you do this?" She whimpered, dramatizing every word. "You shaved your beard... The beard that I loved so much!"

The other two brothers watched the scene with wide eyes, not knowing whether to laugh or be worried about Y/N's reaction, unlike Matt, who took a few seconds to process what she had said, before a loud laugh escaped from his lips, his hands letting go of the food he was holding.

"We're done!"

Matt continued laughing, shaking his head in bewilderment.

"Y/N, did you hit your head?"

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2. Girls' night (with a masculine touch)

The night was warm and cozy in the triplets' house as Matt, Nick, Chris, and Y/N gathered in the living room. After a long day of recording and, on Y/N's part, studying, they decided it was time to relax and have fun together.

"What are we doing tonight?" Chris asked, throwing his phone onto his lap and looking around at the others, lowering his body onto the upholstery.

"Can we do our nails?" The suggestion escaped Nick's lips quickly, his eyes shining with excitement. "And maybe do some skincare."

"Like a girl's night?" Y/N smiled, straightening her posture quickly, feeling just as excited.

"Why not?" Matt shrugged, staring at his nails with a contemplative look. "But I've never done my own nails before, I always do them with Analysse."

"It's just painting your nails, like watercolor. It's not difficult, honey." Y/N waved her hand dismissively, getting up from her seat and running to her shared room with Matt, looking for her box of nail polish and nail's tools.

With their gear gathered, they arranged themselves comfortably and strategically on the couch, ready to begin their impromptu night of beauty.

Y/N led the way, skillfully beginning to paint her own nails as she explained the process.

"First, you need to apply a base coat to protect your nails." She explained, opening the base coat and carefully applying it, being quickly followed by Nick.

The brothers watched with interest, watching each movement with concentration.

"That seems easy enough." Chris commented, taking the little bottle from Y/N's hand and starting to apply it to his own nails.

Meanwhile, Matt was carefully examining the available nail polishes colors, trying to decide which one to choose. Y/N's eyes found his figure, a smile growing on her face, feeling great love for his appreciation and care for the moment.

"How about a black one with white details?" Matt suggested, holding up two bottles in the mentioned colors, showing them to Y/N with a proud smile on his face.

"It's going to look amazing, my love."

Chris quickly picked out his own nail polish color with Nick's help, returning to his seat while swinging his legs eagerly.

They dipped their brushes into the nail polish bottles with determination but soon discovered that painting their own nails wasn't as simple as it seemed.

"This is harder than I thought." Matt grumbled as he tried to paint his nails without smudging, his fingers shaking slightly as his tongue lolled slightly out of his lips in concentration.

Chris nodded, his lips pressed tightly together as he tried not to move his hand too much.

"I think I'm doing this wrong..."

"You two are doing pretty well for beginners." Y/N laughed softly, watching the brothers fondly.

After some errors, everyone finally finished painting their nails, each proudly displaying their own piece of art, even if it was a little smudged.

"Look at us, a bunch of nail professionals!" Nick joked, blowing on his freshly painted nails with a smile.

"Yeah, I guess we could consider a new career." Matt contributed, admiring his nails with a satisfied expression before raising his hands, his nails facing Y/N as he wiggled his fingers excitedly.

"It's perfect, babe, congratulations!" Y/N praised, leaning towards him slightly and sealing the back of his right hand with her lips lightly, exhaling the fresh smell of nail polish and acetone.

"Maybe we should open our own men's salon." Chris smiled, shaking his hands to dry the nail polish faster.

Matt laughed out loud, imagining the scene of them painting other men's nails with the same determination and enthusiasm they had moments ago. It would be comical.

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3. Video as a couple

Matt was nervous as he prepared to record his next video for his personal YouTube channel. It was still one of the first videos he posted there, and despite his enormous desire to make more content for his own channel, he felt an anxiety growing within him every time he thought about creating something new on his own.

Therefore, he decided to invite his girlfriend, Y/N, to participate with him in that specific one, taking advantage of the opportunity to introduce her as his girlfriend.

It's not that fans didn't know Y/N was his. They knew, and they knew it very well, but Matt never got around to introducing her as such officially.

"Are you ready for this?" He asked, looking at Y/N with a nervous smile.

"I should be the one asking you that." Y/N smiled small before nodding, holding his free hand affectionately. "But yes, I am. There's nothing I want more than to be said to be your girlfriend, baby."

With a nervous sigh, Matt began to set up the camera on the dashboard of the car, while Y/N settled into the passenger seat next to him, trying to calm him with words of encouragement.

"You'll do amazingly well, hon. I'm sure of it." Y/N said, leaning over the car console and giving him a soft kiss on the cheek.

Finally, everything was ready, and Matt began recording, his voice a little shaky at first but soon becoming more confident as he got used to the camera without his brothers around him.

"Hey! Welcome to my personal YouTube channel." He began, smiling slightly at the camera. "Today I have a very special guest for you to meet."

He turned his face to Y/N with a twinkle in his eye, who waved at the lenses, opening a shy smile.

"This is Y/N, my girlfriend." Matt continued, looking at her with big heart eyes. "Most of you already know her as our best friend, and maybe you already know about our relationship, but now we're finally going public to make it official... Well, she agreed to participate in today's video, so I hope you enjoy getting to know her a little better."

Y/N smiled as she watched her boyfriend introduce her as his, her cheeks taking on a reddish hue, feeling a little nervous and shy, but happy to be there next to him.

To make things more fun, Matt decided to answer some questions asked by fans about the two of them together or individually. He selected some of the funniest and most interesting questions and read them out loud for the two of them to discuss.

"Okay, first question." Matt began, looking at his phone in hand. "How we met?"

"Well, we actually met at a friend's birthday party from our school in elementary school. Matt was trying to impress everyone with his basketball skills, but he ended up hitting the ball over one of the girls' heads." Y/N laughed, remembering the story fondly.

Matt blushed at the memory, shaking his head and looking down, trying to hide the involuntary smile that took over his face.

"Next!" Matt cleared his throat, his voice coming out high-pitched from the shyness of the previous event. "What's the secret to a long-lasting relationship?"

"Oh, great question!" Y/N clapped her hands in excitement, lifting her legs and pressing the soles of her feet onto the seat, keeping her knees bent and tights against her chest. "For me, the key is communication and mutual support. It's important to always be honest with each other and literally be there through the good times and the bad."

"For sure, I also think it's essential to have understanding and empathy for each other. Being willing to listen and understand your partner's needs makes all the difference." Matt contributed.

He looked at his girlfriend, waiting for approval and receiving a big smile in return, which was accompanied by a nod.

"What's the most memorable memory you've had together?" Matt read the next question quickly, before looking up, his eyes alight with nostalgia. "There are so many wonderful memories to choose." He reflected, thoughtfully. "But one of my favorites was when we made our first unplanned trip together almost two years ago and ended up getting lost in a small town in Italy."

"Oh my God, so true!" Y/N threw her head back, laughing loudly at the memory. "That was an unforgettable experience. I remember we went to ask for directions at a small restaurant right on the corner from one of the alleys, and there were several pastas hanging, drying. I just asked the main chief what that was, and boom, we passed all day in that restaurant, tasting different types of fresh pasta and discovering more of their culture together."

As the video continued, Matt and Y/N shared more stories, laughs, and loving moments. They answered questions about their funny habits, their favorite couple traditions, and even their future plans together.

In the end, when Matt ended the video with a warm thank you to the fans who would watch it when posted, he turned to Y/N with a beaming smile.

"Thank you for doing this with me, petal." The brunette whispered, leaning over the car console and pulling her into a tight hug, smiling widely. "It meant the world for me."

"I'll always be here to support you, Matt. And I can't wait to make more videos together in the future." Y/N smiled, feeling happy to have shared that moment with Matt.

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4. Kittens day

Y/N woke up excitedly that morning, knowing it was the day she would volunteer at the cat kennel like she always did every Tuesday. It was an activity she loved doing, and she always invited Matt to join her, but his work with YouTube always ended up interfering.

However, this time, Matt had surprised Y/N by making room in his schedule to join her. She couldn't wait to share this experience with him.

When they arrived at the kennel, they were greeted by the soft sound of meows and purrs. Y/N smiled when she saw the felines playing and snuggling on their colorful scratching posts of all possible sizes.

"It's so good to be here." She said excitedly to Matt, taking his hand as they walked through the decorated halls. "Cats are so adorable and deserve so much love and affection."

Matt smiled as he listened to her chatter about the felines, watching them and her with fascination.

The couple spent the day taking care of the cats, feeding them, cleaning their litter boxes, and, of course, playing with them. Y/N taught Matt the proper way to hold and pet kittens, and he was soon having as much fun as she was.

"I never want to leave again." Matt suddenly commented as, sitting side by side on the fluffy rug, they watched a group of kittens playing with a fur ball. "I understand why you love coming here every week."

"It's a special place, with special cats... You know, I'm really glad you're here with me today." Y/N smiled, lifting her head slightly to look at him better, feeling her heart warm when she realized that Matt was just as involved in the activity as she was.

"I'm glad too."

At the end of the day, as they were about to leave, Matt suddenly stopped, looking at a cat in one of the cages. It was an orange cat with bright blue eyes that stared back at him curiously.

"Wow, he is perfect." Matt whispered, slowly approaching the cage. "He seems so friendly."

"You like him, don't you?" Y/N smiled, following him towards the feline, noticing the immediate connection between Matt and the cat.

"Yeah, I really do." Matt nodded, his eyes shining with determination. "What do you think about having a cat?"

Y/N felt a wave of emotion and happiness wash over her when she heard him, taking a few seconds to process if she was creating things in her head, realizing she wasn't when she noticed Matt looking at her with expecting eyes.

"Oh my God, really?" Her voice came out louder than expected, slightly scaring the kitten. "Oops, I'm sorry, little kitten."

With beaming smiles and clasped hands, they went to the kennel staff to begin the adoption process. While Y/N filled out the forms, Matt kept his eyes fixed on the cat lovingly, imagining their days with the new addition.

"What will be his name, my love?" His girlfriend's voice sounded behind him, breaking him out of his reverie. Matt shook his head slightly, focusing his attention on Y/N again, an easy smile stretching across his face.

"Snuggles. His name will be Snuggles."

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[space-matt]

More than just a joke

matt.sturniolo x fem.reader

summary: an accidental confession turns playful flirting into a genuine romance, who would have thought?

request: yes -> anon

author’s note: hii within this request I wanted to add my beloved Niall, but you can choose to put anyone!  hope you like it, let me know ♡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺

English is not my first language, if you see grammar and typing mistakes, I apologize in advance! I just ask you not to be rude to me ♡

*ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺☆༻*ੈ✩‧₊˚ *ੈ✩‧₊˚༺

As we filmed our regular videos with the triplets—Chris, Nick, and Matt—the bond between us had only grown stronger. The four of us shared a unique camaraderie, and our on-camera dynamic was always vibrant and filled with light banter and playful moments. 

However, during our filming sessions, I noticed that Matt had developed a habit of subtly flirting with me, often accompanied by a bashful grin and a barrage of cheesy, yet endearing lines. Unbeknownst to none, Chris and Nick would exchange sly glances, fully aware of Matt's infatuation with me and his shy, yet charming attempts at flirting. 

Each filming session became a delightful mix of playful interactions, including Matt's endearing, albeit slightly awkward, attempts at romantic overtures.

And, of course, you played along. His flirty comments always made you laugh, and you couldn’t help but flirt back, thinking it was all harmless and in good humor.

Today, you were filming another video, just like any other. The four of you were sitting together in the car, cameras rolling as you prepared to review some funny videos and react to them. But, as always, Matt found a way to start flirting with you.

“You know, this video would be a lot better if we were watching it on a date,” Matt quipped, flashing you that signature shy grin.

You laughed, shooting him a playful look. “Oh, really? You sure you could handle a date with me, Matt?”

Chris groaned loudly, tossing a pillow at Matt’s head. “Here we go again! Do you two ever take a break?”

Nick chimed in, shaking his head. “We should rename this video ‘Matt’s Flirting Hour.’ Honestly, it's getting hard to keep up with you two.”

But today, there was something different in the air. The banter between you and Matt felt more intense, and you noticed the way his smile lingered just a little longer than usual. It was like the whole flirting routine had become second nature, but neither of you seemed to want to stop.

Finally, after what felt like the hundredth cheesy line from Matt, Nick sat up with an exaggerated sigh. “Okay, that’s it. I can’t take it anymore! We need a distraction. New game, everyone. Let’s rate each other’s celebrity crushes.”

Chris, ever the instigator, grinned. “Oh, I like this idea. Let’s see where everyone’s head is at.”

You laughed, intrigued by the sudden change in topic. “Alright, I’m in. Let’s do this.”

Chris went first, of course. “Olivia Rodrigo. She’s iconic, gorgeous, and honestly, she can pull off any look. 10 out of 10.”

Nick nodded approvingly. “Solid choice. I’m going with Billie Eilish. She’s got that cool, mysterious vibe. I’m here for it.”

All eyes turned to you next. You smiled mischievously, knowing your answer might catch a few of them off guard. “Easy. Niall Horan.”

The reaction was immediate. Chris raised an eyebrow, clearly impressed. “Niall Horan? Nice. You into the whole ‘singer-songwriter’ thing, huh?”

Nick laughed. “Yeah, I see it. Niall’s a cool dude.”

But it was Matt’s reaction that caught your attention. The smile that had been plastered on his face suddenly vanished, replaced by a look of surprise and… something else. His jaw clenched slightly, and you could tell he was trying to play it cool, but his eyes gave him away.

Chris noticed too, nudging Matt with his elbow. “Yo, Matt, you okay? You look like you just saw a ghost.”

Matt blinked, snapping out of whatever trance he had fallen into. “What? No, I’m fine, it’s just… Niall Horan? Really?”

You raised an eyebrow, a little taken aback by his tone. “Yeah, why? What’s wrong with Niall?”

Matt fumbled for words, his face turning red as he stammered out, “I mean, he’s fine, I guess… but… I don’t know, it’s just… you could do better.”

Chris and Nick both exchanged glances, sensing that something was up. Chris decided to poke the bear. “What’s the big deal, Matt? You jealous of Niall Horan or something?”

Matt looked visibly uncomfortable now, running a hand through his hair as he tried to laugh it off. “I’m not jealous, I just—”

And then, before he could stop himself, the words came tumbling out in a rush. “I just don’t like hearing you talk about some other guy when I’ve been trying to get your attention for months.”

The room fell into complete silence. Chris and Nick stared at Matt, wide-eyed, clearly not expecting that level of honesty to come out of their usually reserved brother. You, too, were caught off guard, blinking in surprise as Matt’s words sank in.

He looked mortified, immediately realizing what he had just blurted out. “I—uh, I didn’t mean—”

But there was no taking it back now. He’d said it. He’d admitted that all those cheesy lines, all that playful flirting, had meant something more to him. It wasn’t just a joke.

You didn’t know what to say at first. For months, you had assumed that Matt’s flirting was all in good fun, just part of the easy banter you shared. You never considered that there might be real feelings behind it. But now, seeing the vulnerability in his eyes, everything started to click into place.

“Matt,” you said softly, taking a step closer to him. “You’ve been serious this whole time?”

He shrugged awkwardly, his face still flushed. “I mean… yeah. I thought you’d just see it as a joke because… well, I’m me. But yeah, I guess I wasn’t joking.”

Chris and Nick, sensing that this was turning into something real, slowly backed away, giving you and Matt a bit of space.

You smiled, a little overwhelmed but touched by his honesty. “I had no idea, Matt. I thought we were just messing around.”

Matt gave a sheepish smile. “I was, but… I wasn’t, if that makes sense. I like you, and I guess I didn’t know how else to say it.”

For a moment, you just looked at him, realizing how much you enjoyed all those little flirty moments you had shared. Maybe you had brushed it off as a joke for so long because you were too afraid to admit that you liked him back.

“Well,” you said, your heart racing, “if it makes you feel any better, I don’t think Niall Horan stands a chance compared to you.” (I’m joking, Niall is perfect)

Matt’s eyes widened, his face lighting up with surprise. “Wait, really?”

You nodded, smiling warmly. “Yeah. I think I like you too, Matt.”

A huge grin spread across his face, and for once, Matt was completely speechless. Chris, from the other side of the room, couldn’t help but pipe up. “Wow. Didn’t see that one coming.”

Nick laughed, shaking his head. “Matt actually did it. Respect.”

Matt turned to you, still smiling but clearly embarrassed by his brothers. “So… can I take you on that date? For real this time?”

You laughed, feeling a wave of relief and excitement wash over you. “Yeah, Matt. I think I’d like that.”

As the camera kept rolling, you realized this video had taken a turn no one expected—but somehow, it felt like the perfect ending.

"Despite their initial teasing, Chris and Nick are genuinely happy for Matt and wholeheartedly give their approval. Following this, the playful flirting on camera continues, but now it is infused with a new genuine undertone that both you and Matt are excited to further explore."

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Taglist:  @sturniolosreads @mayhem-72 @dracoflaco @lyzsaphrodite @ifilwtmfc @xoxo4chrisss @soimightlikeoldmen69 @inlovewithmattstur @sturniolobendystrawsposts @tillies33ssss @junnniiieee07 @blackhorses-posts

[haomnyangz]

gab’s neverending 2022 shadowhunters renaissance gifs: harry shum jr big brain malec scene improv 

[deanstead]

Imagine if you and Matt making eye contact at Molly's as you finally return back to Chicago, prompt 3, 9, 19, 21, and 35

Pairing: Matt Casey x Reader

Imagine: Seeing Matt at Molly’s after returning to Chicago

#3: It’s always been you

#9: Kiss me

#19: Don’t leave me

#21: You left me

#35: I’m not going anywhere

A/N: This is slightly longer than I meant it to be but anyway HAHA. Hope you like it~

You looked up from your beer, sighing, your eyes meeting with Matt’s across the room as your stomach did a little flip.

You saw the light of surprise in Matt’s eyes and a pause of hesitation before he approached your table. “Y/N? You’re back?”

“Hey Matt.” You smiled, genuinely glad to see him. “New York was a washout. And it’s not all it’s cracked up to be.”

Matt laughed, sliding into the seat opposite you.

It was almost like you’d never left, sitting across from Matt, blowing through drinks like you used to. The two of you only got up when you could feel the little fuzzy cloud of warning in your brain.

Matt walked you outside and turned to look at you. “So you’re staying in Chicago?”

You smiled. “Hopefully. I had a job interview today.”

Matt smiled back at you. You saw a flash of hesitation in his eyes like he wanted to say something.

“Matt?”

Matt inhaled before he reached out and wrapped his arms around you. The hug almost winded you, Matt’s touch sending little tingles throughout all the nerves in your body. “Don’t leave me.” Matt whispered.

You knew Matt was slightly drunk but you felt your body freeze in surprise.

Matt pulled away to look at you like he was gauging your reaction. “You don’t have to feel the way I do. I just need you in my life.”

You caught yourself wishing he’d had told you all this years ago before you’d left, before you’d given up hope on anything happening with Matt.

You stared up into Matt’s eyes for just a few seconds longer before the words were out of your mouth. “Kiss me.”

Matt blinked back at you.

“Matthew Casey.”

Matt’s pushed forward, his lips over yours, his hands cupping your face, the kiss growing deeper with each second the both of you were touching each other. You’d imagined this a thousand times, but this was better than anything you’d ever imagined.

When Matt pulled away, you could see his eyes shining, looking at you like you were the only person in the world. Your skin was still tingling.

“Matt, I…”

Matt hadn’t moved. “Y/N, I can’t do this if you’re not all in. If you’re just going to leave, I can’t…”

“I’m not going anywhere.” You whispered, your voice low but resolute.

“You left me.” Matt whispered. “Remember?”

You felt a tug at your heart.

“Never again.” You answered him, reaching out to put a hand on his face. “Never.”

“You sure about this?” Matt asked, one of his hands still resting on your lower back as he studied you.

You smiled. “It’s always been you.”

Matt just leaned in again to press his lips against you, pulling you tighter against him like he would never let you go again.

[loquaciousquark]

Talks Machina Highlights - Critical Role C2E125 (Feb. 16, 2021)

Goooood evening good evening good evening, all! I hope you’re all staying warm and safe and dry in this chilly weather. Tonight’s guests: Travis Willingham and Laura Bailey. 

We open tonight with Travis ribbing Brian for his continuous remodel of his office space. Laura demands a second introduction of herself as she wasn’t paying attention during the first one.

Travis: “You’ve gotta love Julianne Moore. She’s the only actress who can cry and show you all her teeth at the same time.” I was listening pretty closely when he said this and I’m still not sure it had any context. 

Jester thinks there’s a strong possibility at least half the party will die against the Tombtakers. Fjord doesn’t think the odds are quite that high, but it will be dangerous. Laura points out that most of the M9 are also willing to sacrifice themselves for the rest of the party, so that changes their odds as well. Travis: “The game is not a stress reliever. It is not a stress reliever. I mean, it’s fun as shit, but it is stressful!”

Laura thinks Essek will give them a better chance. Travis: “A plus-one? A powerful plus-one, but a plus-one?” Did you see his reaction when we gave him the lowdown? Let’s be real: we kinda trust Essek. I got $50 that when we come back, he’s gone.” Laura is convinced he is trustworthy & wants to lighten his soul.

Jester spent so much time trying to bring out the Molly side of Lucien that to have him then betray them sucked. She knew that trying to bring the good out of everyone they met would eventually fail, but it stung that it was the most powerful one they encountered to first betray them.

She tries to talk about finger gestures during the answer as a reference to the HBO show “Raised by Wolves,” and Brian and Travis tell her to keep digging this hole she gets herself into about fingering. Travis: “Just get off the interstate at the next exit and turn right.” Laura, of course, immediately mimes turning a hard left, and they spent the next few minutes laughing at her inability to tell right from left and that even now she still has to hold up her hands to tell left from right.

Fjord is furious that they nicked the Bag of Holding. The loss of Vess DeRogna is bad enough, but he is genuinely IRL anxious about the loss of the Cloven Crystal. Laura points out that Fjord has also explicitly talked to Lucien about the deep sea creature patron he used to follow as well. He’s terrified one of Lucien’s scimitars is suddenly going to have a big eye sticking out of it. Laura suggests they’ll just succeed, bring back the city, and wake up Uk’otoa for the heck of it.

It was really rough to go from the Gelidon fight to the Tombtaker fight, especially since the first fight sent so well. Travis felt great that he initiated the dragon fight - he knew they had a far advantage in the numbers and felt that it was an open and shut case.

Laura does boggle that if Caleb hadn’t asked for that item from the Bag of Holding, they might have slept all night before realizing it was gone. They’re both relieved that they now know so much more about how the Tombtakers fight, especially the anti-magic cone. The most anxiety-ridden part was when they were trying to run and the TTs weren’t letting them. “You know when you don’t even have squares, when Matt’s black-tableclothing it, you’re in deep shit.” Laura had no spells left - she was so worried if she dropped the polymorph she would have had nothing left.

Travis: “Thanks for healing me, babe.” Laura: “You’re welcome, baby. It was ultimately a waste, though, because we took a rest immediately and you could just spend your hit dice.” Everyone laughs at Travis’s pain. She does say it was worth it in the moment since they didn’t know if they would be able to get away.

They joke that Laura’s just wearing the Fire Resist ring on a chain around her neck/Sprinkle is wearing it now to keep it safe since she’s not attuned to it anymore. It’s pretty hilarious!

Travis hoped that the TTs were originally actively looking for more acolytes rather than just having Caleb & Beau read the book. Otis needs to die. He’s relieved they have an idea of what all their blood rites do. Laura thought the time with them was fun, but it makes her retroactively wish that she’d dropped Zoran in the lava when they had the chance. Travis wishes they’d put a chime on the door of the tower.

Laura loved the tarot card reading, since Taliesin sent her really detailed breakdowns of the cards & gave her a real deck for Christmas. Taliesin told her she did a great job afterwards which she really appreciated, since she’s not sure what she’s doing. She does wish that she knew why Lucien seemed so nervous when she was talking about rebirth.

Cosplay of the Week! @clever_comics on twitter with a lovely Veth in her snowy lavender-colored outfit and pigtails.

Travis on confessing to Jester: “It FUCKING made me crazy!” He’s never been an instigator of campaign romances in the past, but because he loves Laura and was able to connect to her on that level he felt like it was a good challenge instead. He doesn’t think he could have done it with someone he wasn’t comfortable with. It was also important to him for it to be founded on real-game moments and after real-game time had passed, and he felt it was a very natural progression. Seeing the statues rip five years from her in such a benign situation made him realize that to let the opportunity pass wouldn’t have been worth it. He wishes he’d told Vandran what he meant to Fjord as well.

Laura loves that Fjord is becoming more confident as well. The post-Gelidon smooch took Laura completely by surprise since she’s finding Jester is a little surprisingly awkward with IRL affection, and she was surprised Fjord was the confident one there. “It’s so wonderful. It’s a matter of finding a way to get comfortable with it with her away from the Tombtakers.” Travis thought it was important to continue the “go for it” mantra. He notes that he’s pretty private about his personal life IRL, so it’s been a bit of a shift. It’s slower in a way - not a “you’re my one true love” kind of thing, more of a “let’s see where this goes and act on what you can” thing.

They were all “poopin’ in their pants” to get to go to Emon. The worst part was not getting to explore outside the tower since they had to leave again immediately. Kima is so cool, and Travis was actively trying to get Kima to come with them. Everyone boggles that they got to borrow Allura’s staff.

Laura only was thinking about the item-tuned-to-the-target-plane because she’d been texting with Liam trying to iron out their spell choices. She’s so relieved that they were able to get something tuned to the Sea from Allura.

For the most part, Laura knows what spells are the most useful for Jester, but every now and then she does get caught by major component requirements that she hadn’t noted. She wants to get another chalice for Hero’s Feast before they go into the Sea.

Dani points out that a lot of their allies right now are mages (no Kashaws, no Kimas, no Grogs) and they’re heading to a bad place for mages.

Travis has a sudden brain wave about all the TTs being from the Claret Order and wonders if they should investigate that before they pursue. I don’t even remember what that order is and I feel terrible!

Fanart of the Week! It’s a beautiful card by @crovyne on twitter of the Cree counterspell.

Laura really wants Brian to shave the sides of his hair and do Viking braids in the rest. I didn’t want to say anything out loud, but Brian’s hair is really looking pretty...pandemicky.

This is Dani’s four-year-anniversary of her start for Critical Role! Awww, Dani! You’re so short in real life.

Fjord is stoked that the Star Razor is a Vestige, and more now that he knows in-character what that means. It was great to see Allura react the way she did.

Jester doesn’t think they can really go to Nicodranas - they don’t have anymore time. Even more, Jester’s avoiding going home because she doesn’t want the Ruby to see that she got aged up/hurt on her travels.

Travis honestly assumes that the TTs are spying on them 100% of the time now.

Does Jester feel better now that the crest is away from Lucien? Yes, even though it’s gone off course. She thought dropping the crest where they were was a HORRIBLE idea and was appalled so many people were suggesting it. She saw the city with her own eyes, knows the danger of what’s coming, and if they had dropped it in flight she would have dropped with it and defended it as long as she could if that’s what would have kept them from getting it.

Travis thinks that if they can negotiate with Lucien, they should try. Everyone is super worried about Caleb’s and Beau’s new eyes and are fully anticipating they’re on a clock at this point. They wonder if it’ll drive up their exhaustion, allow Lucien to force them to fight against them, maybe make them willing slaves to the mysterious voice...they need to solve it sooner rather than later. 

And that’s all for tonight! New episode this Thursday - usual time, usual place. Stay warm, friends, and is it Thursday yet?

[comphersjost]

All For You | 5 [Finale] ➸ Brady Tkachuk and Matthew Tkachuk

firstly, i want to say thank you all so fucking much for the love, the support, the countless asks, comments, and reblogs on this series. this is an epilogue of sorts - mostly focusing on matty’s POV - as well as a tribute to the first part that started this all. enjoy my loves <3

4 times Matty knew he loved you, and the one time he knew you loved him.

word count: 6.8k+

warnings: some smut, not super descriptive, angst, elias and noah being little shits, lots of elaboration on events previously mention in the series :)

part one

part two 

part three

part four

masterlist

I. 

The game was brutal. You curled up on your couch to watch it, your body tense the entire time. You lost track of how many times Matt fought someone on the ice, whether he went after someone on behalf of one of his teammates, or when he was being targeted. To say the least...Matt got his ass handed to him.

The game ends with the Rangers shutting out the Flames. You keep the TV on, anxious to see if Matt was going to be interviewed. He wasn’t, but you caught glimpses of him behind Mark Giordano as he answered questions in that monotone hockey voice. Matt looked like a wreck from what you saw, bruises forming on his face and hair an absolute mess. 

You shake your head and turn the TV off, immediately reaching for your phone. You text him without thinking, not realizing what you did until you see ‘delivered’ under the messages. 

you: i’m sorry about the game :( you: anything i can do? you: ice cream or something? 

You panic when the read receipt pops up almost immediately. You'd only been in Calgary for about a month, and only hung out with him a couple of times - and that was with constant reassurance from Brady that you weren't a burden on him. Either way, there's no way he would trust you that much right? 

Three short consecutive buzzes sounded, snapping you out of your spiraling thoughts. 

matthew: can i come over? matthew: if that's cool with you matthew: no worries if not ik you said you haven't totally unpacked 

You can't help the smile that tugs at your lips at the last text. Maybe he really didn't see you as just his brother’s best friend. You quickly type a response back. 

you: of course you can !! you: and fyi i did unpack you: sorta 

matthew: am i supposed to believe that???? matthew: be there in like. 20 matthew: i still gotta shower lol

you: then shower it up stink monster you: see u sooooon you: any snack/drink requests? 

It takes a few minutes to get a response from him, and you assumed that he showered during that time. Over the past month Matt almost never lagged when it came to responding to texts, except for practices and games. 

Your phone buzzes again, but this time it’s a Snapchat notification from Matt. You click on it and the app switches. Tapping on the red square reveals Matt, seemingly fresh out of the shower with his thumb up. That caption reads “fastest shower time on the team? yessir”, another caption underneath reading “no longer a stink monster”.

You laugh and respond to a photo of the top half of your face, typing out “yeah yeah answer my text stinky”. He opens the snap immediately, and 30 seconds later you get a text from him. 

matthew: yo tbh if you have popcorn 👀👀

you: ur in luck i do!! the super buttery kind tho :/

matthew: my fave matthew: don't tell anyone on the team tho 

You pause for a moment. You hadn't even met anyone on the team, only heard them in the background of the few phone calls you'd had with Matthew. Did he want you to meet them? 

Shaking the thought out of your head, you react to the message with the laugh reaction and assure him you won't. He texts you to let you know he was on his way and suddenly you panic again. Matt hadn't been in your apartment since your first week in Calgary. Even then it wasn't really your apartment, it was just an empty place filled with boxes. He had helped you build all the furniture that had arrived, but since then you’d only hung out with him at restaurants or bars or coffee shops. 

You don't know why the idea of him in your space makes anxiety wash over you, and you have to remind yourself that Matt is someone you grew up with. He's your best friend’s brother and someone you've known your whole life, but for some reason you still felt like you had something to prove to him. 

There's a heavy knock on your door before you can pull yourself out of your head enough to make sure everything in your apartment is clean and tidy, and you almost want to scream but you figure it would be weirder than having a slightly messy living room. 

When you open the door for Matt, the first thing you notice are the two forming bruises on his face. The second thing you notice is how tired he looks, his smile genuine but still not reaching his eyes. 

“Hey,” you breathe out, “Come in.” He bumps your shoulder softly in a silent greeting as he slips past you into your apartment. 

“The place looks great, Y/N/N,” Matt says softly, admiring the decorations and photos you’d placed around to make it feel more like home. You're glad he isn't facing you and can't see the surprised look on your face at hearing him call you by your nickname. 

“Thanks Matty,” you say, your anxiety fading when he turns to smile at you again. “I’ll get the popcorn, you can pick a movie or a show or something, if you want.” You chuckle softly as he all but collapses on your couch, stretching out as you make your way towards the kitchen. 

Matt’s eyes follow you as you disappear through the doorway, the sound of the microwave starting just a few moments later. If he wasn't so tired and bruised he would pay more attention to the nervousness bubbling up inside of him. It had been a long time since he really hung out with you like this - the last time he can remember was probably his senior year of high school. Brady had been gone on a class trip for one of the few classes you hadn't taken together, and Taryn was still too young for you to relate to her. So for a full week you showed up at their door and flopped on his bed, or vice versa, claiming that you were bored and were there to stay. He remembers pretending to be annoyed, but inside he was practically screaming, overthinking every little thing that he said to you. 

His teammates would chirp him if they knew - Matt had known that for sure. What, a hotshot hockey playing senior getting butterflies over a sophomore girl? Oh, he would be torn apart in the locker room. That's why he didn't kiss you then. It was stupid, really, now that he thought back on it, but he was 17 then, and his teammates’ opinions were more important to him than taking a chance with his brother’s best friend. 

But now you were here. In Calgary. And he was here, in your apartment.

He feels 17 again, your sweet voice floating from the kitchen asking him if he wanted anything to drink. He replies that he only wants water, and decides to take you up on looking through Netflix. He settles for a random episode of Parks and Rec when you come back to the living room, a bowl of popcorn in one hand, and two glasses of water somehow held in the other. 

You make a face at him and shove his legs out of the way with your foot, placing the bowl and glasses on the table. You laugh when he groans and moves his legs out of the way so you can sit, before moving them back onto the couch to tangle with your own. Matt reaches for the bowl of popcorn as you snatch a blanket from its spot on the back of the couch and drape it over both of your legs. 

“Still cold all the time, Y/N/N?” Matt teases, nudging his foot against your knee as you laugh sharply. 

“Haven't changed a bit, Matty,” you throw back immediately. Your heart skips a beat when he laughs, a really, loud, genuine laugh, head thrown back and everything. You can't help but think that it suits him more than the tired smile he wore when he showed up at your door. 

“You really haven't,” he says with a grin, eyes finally sliding back to yours. His hair curls over his forehead, but you can't look away from his eyes. The intensity of his stare makes you shiver, and you pretend it’s from the cold, pulling the blanket towards you more and looking away. You ignore his grumble of protest, but he lets you do it anyway. 

“You haven't changed either, you know,” you say quietly. He stays silent, only shifting in his spot to get more comfortable. 

The two of you fall into a comfortable silence, your eyes on the TV and his on...well his eyes are on you. He thinks back to all the times he wanted to make a move on you. Countless hours he spent beating himself up for letting the opportunities slip through his fingers because of his stupid pride. 

He's not 17 anymore, he could kiss you right now. He could wrap his arms around your waist and pull you into his lap, kiss you until you're breathless and absolutely begging for him. 

But he doesn't. 

Not when you look like this, so comfortable and warm and here. He can't kiss you when you opened your home to him after a tough loss. He can't take advantage of you like that. 

So Matt trains his eyes on the TV again, sneaking glances at you here and there as he all but shovels popcorn into his mouth so he doesn't say something stupid. He doesn't realize you've fallen asleep until he sneaks another glance at you, this time looking for just a little longer than a split second. 

Your eyes are closed, cheek smushed into the cushion and your chest rising and falling with soft, even breaths. He realizes then how tired you must be, it’s nearly 11:30 and he knows you have to be up early for work. He can't tear his eyes away, can't help but take advantage of being able to stare at you without getting caught. 

God, you're so cute like this, he wishes you were in his arms instead of on the other side of the couch. He wants this to last as long as possible, but your head is tilted at an awkward angle, and he doesn't want you to go to work tomorrow in pain. 

Instead of taking his time looking over every inch of your adorable sleeping face, he gently untangles his legs from yours, grabbing the empty bowl and cups and heading to the kitchen. Once he's done washing them and placing them on the drying rack, he heads back to you, pausing in the doorway for one more moment to just look at you. 

He finally convinces himself that he’s stared enough, it’s getting creepy now, and you need to go to bed. Matt makes his way back to you, squatting down and gently placing a hand on your arm. 

“Y/N/N?” he says softly, rubbing softly up and down your arm. 

“Hmm?” you hum softly, blinking slowly with blurry eyes. 

“You gotta go to bed,” he murmurs, and he can't stop himself from brushing a piece of hair out of your face. “You have work in the morning, c’mon.” 

You whine in protest and your eyes flutter shut again. You're too comfortable, too warm to get up now. Matt sighs, resignation setting in. He slowly peels the blanket off of you, folding and draping over the back of the couch like before, before sliding his arms underneath your back and knees and lifting you effortlessly. 

You mumble something unintelligible as you bury your face in his chest. Matt says nothing as he finds your bedroom, depositing you on your bed as soft as he can, and tugging the duvet out from under you and then back over you again. 

“You can't go home,” you mumble again, louder, grabbing his hand feebly before he can walk away. Matt freezes at the implication, even though he knows the thoughts spiraling in his mind are unlikely in your barely awake state. “S’late Matty, you can't go home.” 

“Y-you-you want me to sleep here?” he stutters, and you nod, blissfully unaware of the rampage of emotions in Matt’s head.

“Guest bedroom’s furnished,” you slur, voice thick with exhaustion. “Don't go home. S’late.” With that, you're fast asleep again, and Matt - well -

Fuck, Matt thinks. He's fucked. And he knows it. 

II. 

Based on the look on Noah’s face, Matt knows he's going to get one hell of a lecture as soon as you're out of earshot. He'd finally taken you to meet his teammates, and he was really starting to regret it. He knows that you're beautiful, he'd just rather not watch his teammates stare shamelessly. He really is glad he told them warned them to keep their hands off though, using the excuse that you were his brother’s best friend and there was no way he would let those hooligans go after you. 

But now that you're actually meeting them, Matt knows that they're going to call him on his shit. His team knows him better than that. 

His hand is resting against the small of your back as he leads you to a booth towards the back of the bar. He slows down before he gets within earshot of the table, leaning in to ask softly, “You okay?” 

You glance up at him with a nervous smile, but nod anyways. “Yeah,” you assure him, “I’m good, I just hope they like me.” 

Matt laughs at that, shaking his head at your confused expression. His laugh fades as you raise an eyebrow, looking at him expectantly. “They'll love you,” he finally clarifies, “Promise.” 

“Promise?” you say skeptically. 

“Promise,” he confirms, and the grin on his face is infectious, you can't help but smile back at him. “C’mon,” he says, pushing you lightly until you reach the table. 

“Matty!” exclaims one of the men at the table. A brunette, from what you can see in the dim light, and a face that makes him look 14. At his drunken greeting, the rest of the men and women at the table turn to look at you and Matt, making you shift uncomfortably under their collective gaze. 

“Aaand he’s drunk already, this is Brady and I’s friend, Y/N,” Matt introduces you, his hand sliding from your back to squeeze your hand comfortingly. He introduces each of the people at the table - the baby-faced one was named Johnny - before nudging the blonde that looked like a Disney prince until he moved over to make room for the two of you. 

“Hi,” you say, smiling shyly around the table. “It’s nice to meet you all, Matt’s told me a lot about you.” 

“Hope he wasn't talking shit,” Prince Charming teases with a slight accent, flashing you a bright smile. What was his name? Elias? 

“Oh he talks the most shit,” you banter, a sly smile tugging at your lips at Matt’s incredulous protest. “Always going on and on about how annoying you guys are - mmf!” Your teasing is cut short by Matt’s hand covering your mouth. Without thinking you lick the palm of his hand, laughing when he snatches it away again and off of your mouth. 

“That's gross,” Matt complains, wiping his hand on his jeans. 

“You asked for that,” you shoot back, elbowing him lightly when he rolls his eyes. 

“You know, I’m starting to regret this,” he grumbles, fighting the smile playing on his lips, “you’re just as annoying as them.” 

“Be nice Chucky!” Noah pipes up. You recognize him from the few times you’d stopped by Matthew’s apartment but had never stayed long enough to actually get to know him. 

“Yeah, Chucky,” you taunt, “better be nice to me, I know where you live during the off-season too.” The table erupts into laughter at that, and you accept a fist bump from Elias. 

“I like this one, Matthew,” Giordano says, “You better keep bringing her around.” 

You flush at the compliment, having heard how highly Matt speaks of his captain. 

Matt feels you relax into the booth, the tension in your body since your arrival finally draining at the approval from his team. He leans down slightly to murmur in your ear, “I told you they'd love you.” You smile at his words, tuning back into the conversation that had started up again. 

“Matthew,” Elias suddenly says, drawing your attention away from the intense discussion about whether or not hotdogs were considered sandwiches (the group was split almost 50/50, by the way). “Let’s go get more drinks. Noah?” 

You scoot out of the booth to let the two of them slip out, heading to the bar with Noah in tow, sliding back in to find yourself seated beside a beautiful blonde girl. She laughs when you say timidly, “I’m sorry, could you all tell me your names again?” 

She introduces herself in a thick accent as Annica, Elias’s girlfriend, and the other girls do too, before quickly striking up a conversation. “Do not worry,” she says kindly, “I forgot most names the first time I met too.” You laugh at that, before some of the wives and girlfriends start to ask you about yourself. 

“How do you know Matthew?” Brittany, Sean Monohan’s girlfriend, asks curiously. 

“I grew up with him,” you explain. “Brady’s my best friend, they live across the street from my family.” 

At the same time that you’re getting to know the girls at the table, Elias is slapping Matt upside the head. 

“Dude!” Matt groans. “What the fuck?” 

Noah rolls his eyes at Matt’s faux-obliviousness, “Dude, that girl is a smokeshow.” Noah manages to dodge Matt’s fist aimed at his arm, smirking at the defensiveness. “Just your friend huh?” he chirps, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. 

Matt groans again, “Yes, just a friend, the hands-off rule still applies.” 

Elias snorts, unconvinced, leaning back against the bar to observe you interacting with the team and WAGs. “She’s funny, and fits in well,” Elias remarks. “And Noah is right, she is a smokeshow.” 

“I know,” Matt grumbles. “Don't you have a girlfriend?”

Elias throws his head back and laughs. “Annica pointed out when you walked in. Anyway, she's yours, clearly.” 

“Dude.” 

Matt was getting really sick of the chirping coming from his teammates. To be fair - they were right, but he couldn't let them know that. But as he follows Elias’s gaze to see you talking animatedly to the girls at the table - all of their attention trained on you - he can't help the soft smile on his lips. He's right, you do fit in well. 

He wonders how you'd look wearing a jacket with his name on the back. 

Noah’s voice snaps him out of his daydream. “I'm just saying man, you already look like you're halfway in love with her, so get on that.” 

“No,” Matt snaps finally, before his expression drops slightly. “Besides, our parents are fully convinced that she and Brady are gonna end up getting married or whatever.” 

Noah and Elias both wince at that, giving him sympathetic glances. Matt rolls his eyes, snatching half the round of drinks the bartender had deposited in front of them, and heading back to the booth, knowing that Elias and Noah were hot on his heels. Thankfully, he makes it before they can say anything else that might inspire Matt to do something stupid. 

But as he slides back in beside you, watching you interact with his teammates - his family away from family - he can't help but think about how wrong Noah was. 

More than halfway, Noah, way more than halfway. 

III. 

Matt’s lifelong habit of running away from his feelings just didn't seem to apply to you. No matter how much his feelings grew, how much they scared him, he still stayed. He still hung out with you, and texted you constantly. He still brought you to every team event under the guise of not wanting some random girl with him, and that he'd much rather have you there. 

When you told him about your feelings for his brother, it stung. So Matt did the only thing he could - not run away, he could never run from you. He crushed the hurt away, pushed his feelings down down down until they were just a whisper at the back of his mind. 

But then he made a mistake. He made an enormous, colossal, devastating mistake. 

He kissed you. 

He was wine-drunk, and so were you. Maybe that's why you let him. Maybe that's why you kissed him back. It was easier to believe that it was a drunken decision than let himself have any hope. 

You'd been at his apartment for dinner, something that had become a weekly occurrence now. Matt couldn't deny that he liked this, having you to himself without anyone Brady to steal your attention. 

You'd ordered in today, boxes of Thai takeout littering the counter. Matthew hadn't bothered to clean up after you were both done eating, insisting that he’d take care of it later, and for now you could just hang out. So that's what you did. 

The two of you sprawled on his couch, forgoing wine classes to just pass the bottle back and forth until both of you were giggling. Your cheeks felt warm from the wine, and you felt good. You felt relaxed and at home. 

You're thrown into another fit of giggles when Matt reminds you of the time Brady had fallen asleep after a game when you had all gone out for ice cream. He had ended up face planting directly into a scoop of his barely-eaten vanilla ice cream in the car on the way home, immediately snapping awake at the cold dessert hitting him directly in the face. 

Through your laughter, you say “What about the time you were trying to impress - hic - that girl - what was her name, Brenna? - and then you -” you cut yourself off, laughing uncontrollably at the unimpressed look on Matt’s face. He knew exactly what you were talking about, and it was easily one of the more embarrassing moments of his life. When you can catch your breath again you finish “- and you were staring so you slipped and fell on the ice!” 

Matt groans as you keep laughing, before a devious idea comes to mind. You know that look on his face all too well, your eyes widening as your laughter dies down. 

“Matt-” you start as he starts reaching for you, turning into a shriek when his hands reach their destination. “Matt, no!” 

His fingers finding your sides and tickling you mercilessly. 

“Matt!” you gasp, squirming to escape the torture. “I’m sorryyyyy! I won't mention it again, I promise!” 

He pauses for a moment, eyeing you suspiciously. 

“Promise?” he asks, his hands not leaving your sides even when you nod. He hums when you promise, distracted by your closeness. The wine made his mind fuzzy, and the feelings he's been harboring for so long come bubbling to the surface. 

Matt is terrified he's going to say something he’ll regret - especially with the knowledge of your feelings for Brady - so he does the only thing that will shut him up. He does what he was too cowardly to do when he was 17.

He kisses you. 

A surprised moan escapes your throat, but then you sigh, leaning into him and leaning into the kiss. His hold tightens around you as he tilts his head to slot your lips together. Your hands come up to run through his messy curls, making a noise of appreciation at how soft his hair is. 

Matt can't help himself, he leans back to his side of the couch, tugging you with him and into his lap. One hand leaves your waist to cup your jaw as you straddle him, his teeth tugging at your lip before sliding his tongue into your mouth. The hand on your waist comes down to your ass, a strangled moan breaking the kiss as his hand pushes you impossibly closer to Matt.

Matt reconnects your lips immediately, addicted to the feeling of finally kissing you after all these years. Through the haze in his brain he thinks that this is probably a bad idea, but fuck does he love it. 

You whine needily and break the kiss, rocking your hips against Matt and making him gasp. 

“Fuck,” he rasps, his hips jerking upwards to grind into you. Your eyes flutter open for a moment, shuddering at the dark look in Matt’s eyes. You think of saying something - anything - but Matt’s hand curls around the back of your head and pulls you back in to meet his lips. 

You tug at his hair as he kisses you, letting him move your hips into an undulating motion against his own. Matt's mouth drags away from yours, your whine turning into a soft moan as when he kisses along your jaw and down your neck. You shiver when you feel his teeth graze the column of your throat. 

Matt kisses every inch of exposed skin, unable to help himself from sucking a deep purple mark into your skin just above your collarbone. 

“Matty,” you whimper, grinding down harder against the growing tent in his sweatpants. Matt decides that your whimpers and moans are his favorite sound, and vows then that he’s going to do everything in his power to pull those noises from your body. He can't get enough of you, the way your hands roam over his shoulders and through his hair and the desperate way your grinding against him. You say his name again, this time a soft sigh as he keeps kissing at your skin, the hand on your ass sliding up and underneath your thin v-neck. 

“Baby,” he grunts against your skin, running his nose up along your neck. You whimper at the pet name, and Matt gets impossible harder under you. “Baby,” he whispers again, pulling back to look you in the eye. “Tell me if you want this, angel.” 

You nod frantically, leaning in to press your mouth on his again. 

“Please,” you mumble against his lips. “I want this. I want you.” 

Matt moans at the words, wishing that it were true in every context. Instead he wraps his hands under your thighs and stands, making his way blind towards his bedroom. He tosses you on his bed unceremoniously, kicking the door shut behind him.

You look up at him with wide eyes and flushed cheeks, reaching for him again, aching for his touch. Matt crawls over your body and brushes the hair out of your face as he hovers above you. 

“Matt,” you whine needily, wrapping a hand around his neck to pull him down to kiss you again. 

As Matt strips you of your clothes as well as his own, he lets himself pretend this is real. He fucks you with brutal, merciless thrust of his hips, and pretends like this isn't going to be a one-time thing. He lets himself feel while you cry out for him and arch your back as you cum. He calls you baby and acts like this isn't a drunken mistake you’re probably going to regret in the morning. 

And when you're both spent, his arms curled around you as you give him a dopey, sleepy smile - looking like a real life angel, he thinks - Matt lets himself pretend, for just a moment, that you love him too. 

IV. 

He hates this. 

Matt hates this. 

He hates the feeling of your body shaking against him, uncontrollable sobs wracking your body. Brady had left that morning for Ottawa after Autumn had reached out to him, asking to give their relationship another shot. And Matt hates him for it right now. 

He hates the sound of your crying, the tears spilling onto his shirt. He hates that you feel like this, heartbroken and miserable. 

Matt hates how responsible he feels for this. He was so sure that Brady reciprocated your feelings, telling you over and over again that he was positive his brother loved you too. In hindsight, he might have been projecting, but to him, it was impossible not to fall in love with you.

The thing he hates the most, though, is how selfish he is. How he can't help but think of how good it feels to hold you again. 

Another sob rips itself from your throat and Matt’s arms tighten around you, pulling you so that you were flush against his chest. He buries his face in your hair, whispering “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” over and over as you break down in his arms. 

He barely registers the feeling of you shaking your head against his shoulder. 

“Not your fault,” you mumble through your cries, shaking your head more vigorously. “It-it’s not - it’s my fault - I thought -” You cut yourself off and bury your head in his shoulder as your bawling continues. 

“It's not your fault,” he insists as one hand comes up to cup the back of your head, running through your hair in soft strokes. “It’s not, it’s not your fault, you did nothing wrong.” 

Matt holds you like that for what feels like eternity, your sniffles and cries coming slower and slower until they stop. He still holds you tight, tracing patterns over your skin and running his hands through your hair soothingly. He whispers gentle words in your ear, comforting you the best he can. 

Eventually you pull back slightly too look up at him, making Matt mourn the loss of feeling every inch of you pressed up against him. You look tired, sleepy, but most of all, you look sad - and it kills him inside. 

“Thank you,” you whisper hoarsely, making Matt’s eyebrows furrow in confusion. 

“What for, angel?” The nickname doesn't go unnoticed by you, and you can't help the warm feeling that worms its way through your heartbreak. 

“Everything,” you shrug, not wanting to really say the truth. Matt takes it for an answer, even though you both know it’s really not, and smiles gently, brushing hair out of your eyes like he's done so many times. “M’sorry about your shirt,” you mumble, and Matt laughs at that, his head thrown back.

“I've got plenty of shirts,” he teases, thumb sliding back and forth over your jaw comfortingly. As his laughter fades, his gaze becomes locked on yours. You look like you're in deep thought, at war with yourself, and he barely refrains from asking you what you're thinking about. 

“Okay?” Matt asks gently, eyes softening when your eyes focus on him again. You open your mouth as if to say something, before closing it again and nodding slowly. “Y/N/N?” 

Before he can really ask what's going on, you're throwing your arms around his neck, your lips colliding with his. Matt can't help but melt into the kiss, cupping your cheek as your lips move together. He hadn't felt this in so long. 

Oh, he missed this. He missed the feeling of your mouth on his. Missed kissing you until you were breathless. Missed the way you fit perfectly in his arms. 

He moans gently, nearly delirious with his need for you. 

A pang of guilt shoots through him, making Matt pull away even as you whine and chase his lips. You look up with wide eyes and a slight pout, before you seem to realize what just happened. 

“Fuck, I’m - I’m sorry,” you gasp, scrambling to escape his embrace. “I'm sorry, I didn't mean to - that was fucked up - I’m sorry -” 

Matt’s grip only tightens, grabbing your chin to make you face him. “Hey - hey,” he says sharply, making you stop struggling and look at him. “It’s okay, I promise, we just - you're not in the right - we can't -” 

“I know,” you cut him off, “I know, I'm sorry.” 

“It's okay,” he assures you again, before asking you softly, “Do you want to go home?” 

You weren't sure which home he meant - your family’s house across the street or Calgary - but either way you shake your head frantically, clinging to him tighter at the idea of being alone with your broken heart right now. 

“Okay,” he soothes gently, “That's okay, I’m gonna go shower, okay? You wanna change?” You glance down at your clothes - sweatpants and a t-shirt - and shake your head again. 

“This is fine,” you say timidly, your voice small and sad and widen the hole in Matt’s heart. 

“Okay,” he murmurs, setting you gently on his mattress and tugging the duvet over you. “I won't be long, I promise.” You nod sleepily, your eyes already fluttering shut as you acknowledge him, as he backs away slowly. 

Matt has to clasp a hand over his mouth in the shower, muffling the noises out of his mouth as he weeps. 

He almost wants to laugh at the irony of it all. You love Brady. You love him and your heart is breaking because of it. And so is his. And even as Matt puts on clean pajamas and crawls back into his bed beside your sleeping figure, he still feels like he might start to cry again.

But then you mumble his name, your voice thick with sleep as you reach for him. Your hands feel small against his chest as you fist the material of his shirt and tug him towards you, sighing contently when his arms slide around your waist. 

You fit so fucking perfectly, Matt thinks, with your body tucked into his like this. His eyes linger on your face for a few moments, taking in the peaceful look on your sleeping face after hours of anguish and emotional turmoil. As he begins to drift off, his last thought before he falls into slumber, is how he's never been more at ease, more happy, more in love, than when he's with you. 

+1 

Matt has never been in so much pain in his entire life. The moment his eyes fluttered open, still blurry from sleep, he snapped them shut again. It was too bright. Why is everything so bright? He only knows one person that keeps the blinds open when they sleep and that was - Matt’s blood runs cold. 

“I like it when the sun wakes me up,” you’d said when he asked you. “It feels less like an alarm clock and more of a gentle reminder, you know?” 

He didn't know, he really really didn't, especially with the pounding in his head. But he has to know for sure, so slowly but surely, he opens one eye and then the other. Matt’s heart rises to his throat when he realizes where he is. 

Part of him thinks he might die on the spot. But the other part - the selfish fucking part of him - whispers that waking up in your bedroom is what he's been dreaming of for months. 

But then it hits him. The pain. 

Not the pounding headache, no - this was worse. This was so much fucking worse. It was worse than the day in his parents’ basement when you walked away from him all those months ago. Worse than the night he came home and found you naked in Brady’s bed. This pain felt worse than anything he'd ever felt before. 

It’s excruciating. He feels like someone had punched a hole in his chest and torn out his heart. The ache in his chest surpasses the throbbing in his head. 

Matt feels like he's going to cry, the desire to curl up into a ball and disappear overwhelming him and he wants to cry. 

How did he even get here? 

Matt doesn't remember most of last night, little snippets here and there. He remembers your Instagram post, the cutest fucking picture he's ever seen of you holding and ice cream cone and laughing, a smudge of the frozen treat dotted on your nose. He remembers grabbing a bottle the moment he got home. He remembers Noah and Elias, remembers seeing their lips moving, but doesn't remember what they said.

Before he can stop it, there are tears slipping down his cheeks. Matt is so fucking sick of crying. He's tired of feeling like this. 

And he hates that he knows that it's his own damn fault. 

The idea of seeing you again - of you seeing him like this - makes his skin crawl. He promised to leave you alone after the game, and he’s ashamed that all it took was an Instagram post and a little too much liquor for him to come crawling back. 

The selfish part of him pipes up again. You can't help it. You love her. She's yours. 

Being here, in your apartment, your bedroom, makes Matt dizzy. He needs to leave. Now. 

He’s in such a rush to leave, roughly wiping at the tears on his face, he almost doesn't notice the pair of pills on the nightstand, a glass of water set on a coaster beside them. He hesitates for a moment, but decides that he doesn't want to feel like a trainwreck for the rest of the day, and downs the pills with a gulp of water. 

There's clattering in the kitchen, preventing him from a stealthy escape. Matt is shocked when you don't let him leave, head spinning with exhaustion and confusion and really - just your presence. He can't stop staring at you. Even like this, in a hoodie and leggings, Matt thinks you're the most beautiful fucking thing he's ever seen. 

This is too domestic. He shouldn't be here. This is too intimate. Too much. 

This isn't for you. Brady is the one who should be here. Matt flinches when the thought slithers into his head, but before he can make it out the door, you're turning from the stove and practically yelling at him to sit. You sound like his mom, he thinks, but sits anyways. 

When you ask him about Autumn, Matt thinks he might die. Right then and there, he wishes the floor would swallow him whole. But instead of that happening, his stupid fucking mouth moves to vomit out the words before his brain catches up. “I was sick of seeing him hurt you, I watched him hurt you for so long, Y/N, I held you while you cried and I - I never want to be the one to make you feel like that.” 

This was the most you'd spoken in months, and even through the pain of seeing you again, Matt can't help but be overcome with relief. You didn't hate him. Matt feels dazed through the rest of the conversation, just barely focusing as a result of your presence addling his brain even as you snap at him to shut up. Until - until - 

“..Brady and I are not together…he’s not it for me.” 

Matt freezes, the words rattling inside his skull.

Not it for me not it for me not it for me 

Matt shoves half a piece of French toast in his mouth, barely chewing it before swallowing and repeating your words back to him. You laugh at his bewilderment, your fingers curling around his own as you speak. 

He's going to kill Brady, he decides as he finishes off the rest of his toast, immediately. His little brother is a menace and it’s finally going to catch up to him. 

But he needs to hear you say it first. He needs it.

Then Matt is tugging you to stand up, and your hands are wrapping around his neck as he gets closer. 

And you say it. 

“I love you too Matty.” 

And then he's kissing you. 

Finally - finally - he's kissing you and you love him.

You love him. 

Matt feels like he wants to cry again, this time for a completely different reason. The pain he'd felt this morning starts to drain away as you press yourself closer to him, hand slipping up to card through his curls. He pulls back to look at you for a moment, grin so wide he thinks his face might break. He leans in again, giving you one, two, three, four more kisses. With every kiss, Matt feels a piece of his heart returning to its place. 

“Say it again,” he pleads, eyes fluttering closed as you whisper against his lips. 

“I love you, Matthew, more than anything, I love you.” 

And later, when you're giggling against his mouth on the couch as his fingers graze your ticklish sides and you're whispering the three words over and over and over again, he knows it's true. 

He's it for you, you're it for him. 

Matt loves you. 

But more importantly, you love him.

FIN (for real this time)

[innuendostyles]

Umm maybe Ben exploring his ‘feminine’ side more????? How bout him asking u to paint his nails? Or him asking if he can wear your makeup? Idk thought it would be cute hahah

ben wants to try something different

2.8k -> masterlist

waking up next to ben was one of her favourite things on the planet. something about the way his hand would rest underneath her shirt (if she had one on) and rub small circles under her breast settled her like nothing else could. she normally woke up to ben cooing to her, usually murmurs of how beautiful she was when she slept, or if she’d overslept it would be gentle reminders of where she had to be - which was why she was surprised to wake up to dead silence.

she yearned to feel his hands on her skin, as she was so used to, but instead, her hand simply rested in ben’s. her palm face down on ben’s larger hand while he traced one pointer finger over her freshly manicured nails. they were painted a pastel blue colour, completely matte except for a shimmery top coat applied to her ring finger. she’d been on the phone ben while she was getting her nails done, asking him what he thought she should get done when the nail lady asked her what colour she’d like. he asked her what clothes she had on at that moment, to which she replied a light blue jumper that had a sparkly carebear printed on the front of it. he simply gave a ‘well then…’ and told her he’d ring her back when she was done. so to see him admiring her fresh set wasn’t surprising.

his eyes flashed to hers as she roused herself from sleep, carefully removing her hand from his to wipe the drool from her chin. he gave her a light chuckle as her body strung completely taught before laying entirely limp back on the bed and stretching her arms across his chest. she clung to him like a koala, pressing a couple of kisses to his neck when she had enough energy.

“you like my nails?” she whispered, pressing one final kiss to his neck before sitting up.

“yeah.” he chuckled, resting his hand on her hip as she reached to the bedside table to retrieve her phone.

“i’ll make some breakfast.” she said, leaning down to place her hand on ben’s cheek before leaving the bedroom.

she walked down the stairs, calling for frankie as she reached the bottom step, happy to receive many sloppy kisses to her face when she bent down to give the dog her favourite behind the ear scratches.

there was a pink bottle stuck in her mouth, which y/n speedily removed and wiped on her t-shirt to get rid of all the dog spit. it was her nail polish, a cheaper dupe of some dior varnish she’d seen on instagram. the colour, effectively called ‘cha-ching cherry’ was a hot pink, and she’d bought it purely because it was on sale at the drugstore and reminded her of the dior version.

“how’d ya get this, silly girl?” she cooed to the dog, stamping kisses on the top of her head. she wondered how she even reached and opened the polish in the first place, she was sure it had still been in the plastic wrap it came in when she went to bed last night… no, it definitely was. she remembers placing it on the shelf next to the tv when she emptied her bag after she came home. so how had a three year old dog opened protective packaging? it was a mystery to her. instead of going full sherlock mode, she cracked some eggs into a pan and discarded the thought to the back of her mind.

she had to shout ben downstairs, which was unusual, because normally he’s downstairs as soon as she is, offering to help her make breakfast and playing whatever music he was in the mood for over the apartment speakers. he came down the stairs looking rather sweaty and she wondered what he’d been up to. looked like he’d just run a fucking marathon, but he was still dressed in his pyjamas (a pair of calvin kleins couldn’t be classed as pyjamas, surely?) so she knew that answer was out of the equation. maybe he’d been brushing his teeth super violently. she knows that’s not true when he goes to kiss her cheek as a good morning and she shies away from him with a ”morning breath!” and a playful grimace. he chuckles at her, bending down to pat frankie on the head.

he got frankie’s food ready before even realising he had a plate of eggs and fruit waiting in front of him. he sat at the rather small dining table, pouring them some orange juice and handing her the glass once he’d finished. even gave her a little more than he had, because he always complains she doesn’t get her 5 a day.

he just wants her to feel happy and healthy! can he complain, when she treats him so well and even leaves his eggs on for a whole minute longer than hers because she knows he doesn’t like it when the yellow is all runny? when she takes care of a dog that originally was the shared pup of him and his ex?

he has no time to think before she’s giggling a little, pointing to frankie in the corner of the kitchen who had somehow managed to eat all her food and drink all her water in the space of 2 minutes. he giggled as well, taking a bite of his eggs and calling out a ”good girl” to the beagle.

“yeah, well our ‘good girl’ somehow managed to open my new nail polish and came to me this morning with it in her mouth like it was some sort of present she bought! might have to start calling her father christmas!” she jokes, taking a bite of banana before breaking some off and making a kissy sound to garner frankie’s attention before placing some on the floor next to her for the dog. she did love her banana.

ben places his hand quickly onto his thigh beneath the table after he caught sight of it on top of the tablecloth, hoping she hadn’t noticed how quickly he made the movement. she simply furrows her brows at him, tilting her head as she asked if he was okay.

“yeah, ‘m fine just got a cramp.” he lies straight through his teeth, not being able to look her in the eyes and instead offering frankie a piece of watermelon to frankie, which was unusual for him as he never gave his food to her, claiming it ‘only gives her a bad tummy and then i’m the one who has to clean up all the sick she leaves on the bathroom floor!’, which y/n notices and gives a sigh.

“ben.” she deadpans, setting the banana peel down.

he removes his hand from his leg and sets it upon the table, in a fist originally, before he unclenches his hand and then she sees it. his ring and middle finger nails are painted pink. he looks carefully at her reaction, even though there isn’t much to go off, just a look back to his eyes after she’s seen his hand.

“are you… angry?” he questions, eyes still avoiding hers.

“i’m not angry at you for using my nail polish without telling me ben…” she says with a slight chuckle, her face looking awfully confused, “...what’s mine is yours, and all that.”

his eyes flit to her’s at this, a brow raising as he asks, “so you’re not… weirded out?”

she can’t actually tell if he’s joking or not until she looks at his hands, where he’s nervously pulling at his knuckles in hopes to make them crack. it was one of his worst habits, something he only did when he was really going through it. she realises he must have been embarrassed or feel ashamed when she tells him she wasn’t, if the way his shoulders fell from near enough above his head showed her anything.

she decides he wants to leave the conversation at that when he picks up his fork and begins eating his eggs, looking a hell of a lot less stressed than he did before.

“why were you so sweaty when you came down before?” she questions, though she’s careful to make her tone sound as least judgemental as she possibly can, offering an inquisitive smile at the end.

“i um- wanted to get it off. before you saw it.” he purses his lips before he speaks again. “i couldn’t find any of that horrid-smelling remover stuff so i was trying to scrub it off with that lemon exfoliating shit you’ve got in the shower. worked up quite a sweat.” he chuckled, and she smiled at his first genuine laugh this morning.

“ben, why did you think i’d care so much?” she asks, and she can actually feel a pain in her chest as she realises it must have been eating away at him all night after his reaction to her seeing it. the pain in her chest only deepens when she hears a muttered, “i thought you’d think it was … really weird and like… not normal.” he continues, his voice getting louder and louder as he carried on, “cause it’s like… a girls thing. and i’m not a girl. and i know you’d never think that i was stupid or weird so i don’t even know why it ran through my head cause i did it last night when you went to bed and i was still downstairs… i saw it and i just wanted to put it on me like… for fun. and then i thought you might be angry at me for opening it so i just went to bed but i couldn’t sleep cause i was worried you’d be annoyed at me so i just… spent all night looking at yours. your nails, i mean.” once he’d finished rambling, she reached a hand out to his, pulling him along until they’d settled onto the sofa in the living room.

her on her back against the arm rest, with him on his stomach laying between her legs. maybe not the most flattering position on her part, but she felt closest to him this way. she reached a hand up to his hair, running her fingers through the golden locks before sighing.

“ben, i need you to listen to what im gonna say really closely, yeah?” she whispered.

he nods, and she takes that as her cue to continue.

“it isn’t ‘a girls thing’. and i’m not angry at you, and you’re right, i’d never think you’re weird for doing anything ever. i love you, and i’m in this for the long haul, so speak to me. tell me when you wanna try new things. ‘cause you know i won’t be angry, or annoyed, or weirded out… because it’s you.” she could see his eyes softening as he stared directly into hers.

it felt like he was reaching deep inside her mind and pulling out every honest word he could find. he laid his head down on her stomach, before giving a simple, “i love you.”

“do you want me to paint the rest of them?” she asked after a couple of minutes of stroking through his hair.

“please.” he replied, and she felt his smile on her stomach as he heard frankie pattering through the doorway and coming to lie on ben’s back to join them both. he lifted his head up and formed his lips into a kissy shape, to which she leant down and pecked him.

he followed her into the kitchen to retrieve the nail polish, clapping like an excited kid as she led him upstairs. she walked into the bathroom and sat on the countertop, ben bringing a chair from the bedroom to sit in front of her. she spread her legs and placed his hand flat on the surface of the counter, protected by an old sheet of newspaper in case of a polish accident.

once she’d painted one hand, he rested it on her thigh, only beginning to stroke it once she told him his nails were dry enough. she’d finished his other hand, commending her own painting skills as she skipped the two nails he’d already done the night before, he kissed her thigh, just below where his dry hand sat, before lifting himself off the chair to press a kiss to her forehead, then her left cheek, and finally her lips. she pulled her head back as soon as she felt how dry his lips were, telling him he needed some vaseline.

he looked behind her, seeing her collection of lip products before picking up a familiar tube. it was one she used constantly, which meant it must have been good, which was the reason why he asked her to put some on him a couple of seconds later.

“vaseline isn’t the same as lipgloss, but i’ll let this one slide, my dear.” she chuckles, opening the tube of clear, strawberry scented lipgloss. it had a slight shimmer to it, especially when in the sun, and she was unbelievably excited to see it on him.

“i only picked it cause it tastes nice.” he mentions before she has the chance to apply it.

“ben! you’re not meant to eat it!” she scolds, pulling back and taking the applicator with her.

“i know! i don’t do it purposefully, i just get a mouthful sometimes after you snog me.” he says,

smiling when she laughs.

“yeah, well i think i might have to see just how it tastes the next time we snog, which i have a feeling might be in just a second.” she smirks before applying the gloss.

[movedyourchair505]

After Hours 

I know, no one asked for this. But if anyone was wondering a little bit about Matt’s backstory in NN (which no one was) and how he met his wife, here you go. Smut warning ~

x x 

“So...”

Along with the words, he could feel the dark pair of eyes on him, from the corner of his eye, and despite everything, it was soothing rather than challenging.

“'ow's it feel?”

He let his gaze wander before he offered a response, took in the dim lights that illuminated the inside of the club's darkness here and there, the silhouettes spinning around the shiny poles that the lights bounced off of, reflecting back to the glass-lined wall, the air thick with the smell of whisky bitterness and heavy perfume. He nodded slowly, licking his lips and taking a sip from his drink before looking back at the man to his left. “'s liberatin'...” He inhaled deeply. “'onestleh can't fank yeh enouf, Mr Turner.” He swallowed, diverted his gaze when he did too, another sip that burned down on his tongue, down the heat of his throat. He'd missed the taste, had sworn to himself between the exercise, the focus, the challenges he'd faced that he would never take his freedom for granted again, especially now that the man next to him had made a whole different life possible, the opportunities endless, and he would not waste a single one. He breathed out with content.

“Exquisite, innit?” He raised an eyebrow at the taller man to his right, nodding down to the glass in his hand.

“Bloodeh gorgeous,” he nodded. “What fookin' thrill.” He tilted his head to the side. “'n the view too.”

Turner chuckled. “Aneh of 'em tha' yeh fanceh, amico mio?” He scratched at his jaw as he looked out at the women across the club, dancing, illuminated on the stages. “Yeh pick one. I'll free a private room for yeh in the back, eh? Me treat.”

“Mr Turner...” He swallowed, though couldn't resist the undeniable temptation of the offer.

“Oh,” Turner waved it off, shaking his head. “Yeh work for meh now. Alexander t'yeh.”

He smiled, knew how lucky he could count himself due to the respect he'd earned himself from the most powerful man in the city. “Rehyt. Alexander.” He bit his lip, worried he'd overstep a boundary, but the look in the other man's dark eyes was genuine.

Turner chuckled, gesturing vaguely with his hand before his fingers closed around his glass again. “None of 'em are off limits.”

He swallowed again, looked around, his gaze having wandered, though continuously returned to the same light in the darkness, not too far from them, over and over again, the curves, moves familiar and he nodded towards the tall brunette. “'er.”

Turner followed his gaze, the indicating nod. “I mean, tha's not realleh... 'er line of work. Sheh usualleh joost dances.”

He scratched at his chin, nodding slowly, had already expected the response. “Yeh said none were off limits,” he chuckled, though let his gaze wander to find an alternative.

“Mm.” Turner hummed. “Tha's rehyt, Maffew.” He nodded. “I'll see wha' I can do.” He waved over one of the other security men, stating his command when the man leaned in to await instructions.

“Yeh said sheh dun't-...”

Turner waved it off. “Nobodeh says no teh Alexander Turner.”

He chuckled, pursing his lips, watching as the man wearing a suit identical to his own made his way over to the light Matthew hadn't been able to take his eyes off of, waited until the woman faced him, then beckoning for her to come down, and Matthew eyed the way her hips swayed, the way she shook her hair back as she was led off her stage by the hand and mere moments later stood right in front of them, the other member of security stepping into the back again.

“Mr Turner...” The woman smiled, taking a step towards him.

“'ello, darlin'...” Turner drawled, eyeing the strappy silver dress that clung to her body, accentuated her curves with cut out panels that left little to the imagination, her hair falling in loose waves over her shoulders. “Y'look luvleh...” There was a smile tugging on the corners of his lips. “'avin' a good night?”

“Always,” she smiled, tilting her head as she looked back at him, held his gaze when it met hers again.

“Look, doll,” he hummed. “Dun't wanna aneh pressure on yeh or nofin'...” He placed his hand on her lower back, leaning in as he angled her slightly to face Matthew. “But this is me good friend, Maffew...” He nodded over at him. “He likes yeh, why dun't yeh spend the night wif 'im? Mm?” He reached to stroke his thumb across her cheek. “I need yeh teh show 'im a good time.”

Her gaze wandered over to the man in question and she stepped away from Turner and closer to him instead, placing her hand on his shoulder as she looked him up at down, then back at Turner who raised an eyebrow at her questioningly, making her nod in response. “Hi, Matthew,” she smiled, the tone in her voice melodic.

“'ello...” He swallowed. “Y'look stunnin'. Nice t'meet yeh.”

“And you,” she said, her fingers moving through his hair at the back of his head as she came closer. “I'm Sapphire.”

“Got the room readeh for yeh, take 'im away, eh? Yeh'll beh compensated generousleh,” Turner promised.

She smiled back at him, had expected the reassurance, though would not have insisted on it, given the attraction to her employer's friend, the familiarity. “Thank you, Mr Turner,” she responded, before turning to the man who's hand was now resting on her lower back. “I'm happy to be of service.” She smirked, then walked ahead to lead the way, could feel both their gazes on her as her hips swayed, though before she could open the door, Matthew had caught up with her, his hand pushing down on the handle, then waiting for her to walk through, instantly following and they were shielded from the rest of the club.

She watched as he slowly crossed the room to sit and sink into the plush of dark velvet that lined the wall while her heels clicked on the floor on her way to the pole in the middle of the room, though she held his gaze when he looked back at her, gave a nod when she reached to wrap her fingers around the pole.

He smoothed his hands down his thighs as he leaned back and shifted to get comfortable, unable to take his eyes off her as she started to move, swaying slowly at first, but soon transitioning into the moves he still found somewhat familiar, getting lost in the way she ran her fingers through her hair, her eyes locked on his while she wrapped her leg around the pole, dipped her chest, her movements slow, seductive, capturing his full attention with ease, had his gaze trailing her curves, his fingers twitching.

He cleared his throat. “C'mere,” he hummed, undeniably impatient, moving his legs apart slightly as he watched her follow his command instantly, slow, her hips swaying as she approached him, came to stop once she stood between his legs, where she resumed her dance, teasing him purposefully with her every move, so close that he saw no reason to not touch her, his reaction instinctive as his hands found her hips, though surprised when she shifted into his lap without difficulty, straddling him, her hands on his shoulders.

“Is this what you want?” she hummed, adjusting herself in his lap, grinding, felt him squeeze her hips. She tilted her head to the side. “I haven't seen you here in a while...”

He swallowed, surprised she'd even noticed him before, raising an eyebrow at her.

She pursed her lips. “Where have you been?” she asked quietly, her tone inquisitive.

“Well...” He licked his lips, the innocence in her voice not escaping him, persuasive. “Were caught doin' summat I shouldn't 'ave done...” He cleared his throat again. “Got a year, but... Turner got me out earleh... I work for 'is securiteh now... joost came back...”

She nodded slowly. “Mm,” she hummed. “So you're going to be around more?”

“Definiteleh.”

Her movements had not quite ceased while she spoke, her awareness of the music somewhere in the distance ever-present, the way her hips were slowly working into his, seemingly unaware, but he was sure she knew – it was fuelling a fire within him.

“So how long's it been?” she breathed, leaning closer, her fingers brushing back his hair.

“I mean...” He pursed his lips. “Couple o' monfs...”

She pushed her bottom lip forward in a sultry pout, her eyes wide. “Oh, no...” She blinked back at him. “No one been taking care of you..”

His grip tightened impulsively when he sensed her intention of getting up, but he was soon eased when she attempted to push his knees apart, allowed her to sink down to her knees between his legs.

“This okay, Sir?”

The corners of his lips tugged upwards and he gave a slight shake of his head. “Nah, no need for tha', darlin'...” he drawled. “Joost Maffew.” He cleared his throat. “But... yeah...”

She sat up to busy herself undoing his belt buckle, unzipping the trousers of his black suit trousers. “Alright...” she hummed, lifting her gaze to his again, while slowly freeing him from the restriction of his underwear, wrapping her fingers around his already hard length, eliciting a sigh from him. She licked her lips, tilting her head to the side, a smile playing around her lips. “Matthew.”

“Oh, fook...” He swallowed, his adam's apple prominent, his neck tense. “Darlin'... wha's yehr real name, eh?”

She didn't hesitate, looked back at him fearlessly. “Fiorentina.”

He watched closely as she held his gaze while parting her lips, slowly pursing her lips around him and taking him into her mouth, making him throw his head back, his hand instantly grabbing a hold of the back of her head, fingers knotted into her hair. “Fookin'ell...” he sighed through gritted teeth.

She hummed with her lips wrapped around him tightly, stroking the base of his cock until she took all of him into her mouth, guiding him into the back of her throat and swallowing around his tip, making his hips buck up, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction.

“Oh, doll...” he drawled, pulling lightly on her hair to lift her off his cock for a moment, to gather himself, knew he wouldn't last long if he got carried away, it'd been too long.

“I'll go slow...” she promised, breathing out shakily, raising an eyebrow and taking him into her mouth again once he nodded, her tongue pressed to the underside of his cock as she slowly started bobbing her head, her gaze fixated on his, the depth of his eyes dark, wild.

His chest was heaving, his breathing irregular, her efforts leaving him unable to compose himself, torn between slowing her, pulling her hair, and grabbing the back of her head to fuck her mouth relentlessly, so eager to take more, to give her more, the way she stared back at him weakening his control.

There was a knock on the door that snapped him out of the trance she'd eased him into, the blur of pleasure and ease lifting as he gaze rose to the girl that opened the door, a tray with two glasses and a dark bottle in her hand. He nearly lost himself when the girl between his knees continued without missing a beat, didn't flinch, instead took him deeper into her mouth, once again swallowing around his tip, his eyes threatening to roll back into his head, but he tried to collect himself, clearing his throat before going to address the girl that placed the tray on the table, but she beat him to it.

“Don't let me distract you,” she smiled. “Complimentary drinks from Mr Turner.” She gave him a wink, then was out the door again a moment later.

“He's nice, isn't he?” Fiorentina hummed as she slowly came up to take a breath. “Mr Turner.”

Matthew swallowed, nodding slowly, unsure what fuelled him to tighten his grip on the back of her head, to push her right down on his cock again, would have been regretful had the purr that escaped her not almost pushed him over the edge, though he only slowed for a moment, then rising from his seat, pleased with the way she inched back slightly on her knees in an instant, gave him the room he needed and relaxing to allow him complete control of her, moaning around him as he picked up his pace as he fucked her mouth shamelessly, lost in the heat of the moment and grunting above her until he came too close when she swallowed around him again, tears in the corners of her eyes, the tightness of her throat, her lips, the friction her tongue offered too overwhelming and he pulled her back by her hair forcefully. “Fooook...” he rasped shakily.

She hummed, licking her lips, her eyes wide as she watched him sit back down, one quick nod from him and she shifted into his lap again, angling herself to line herself up with his cock once she'd pushed her thong to the side, and she could hardly catch her breath when he'd already grabbed the base of his cock and positioned her, his other hand on her hip, the second following, her head spinning when he forced her down on him and she mewled from the sudden sensation, the friction as he stretched her mercilessly, overwhelmingly intense. “O-Oh...”

He chuckled shakily, though the moment she attempted to lift her hips forcing her down again, reveling in the way she tightened around him to accommodate to his size, her eyes rolling back, her fingernails digging into his shoulders. “Yeees, doll...” he groaned appreciatively, taking a moment longer to gather himself, to enjoy filling her completely before he loosened his grip as a sign for her to start moving, patting her ass when she didn't straight away. “C'mon, luv...”

She giggled, then slowly lifted herself up to start working her hips into his, her hands in a tight grip on his shoulders, gasping when he bucked up his hips to meet her, encouraged her with his hand still on her hip, guiding her, his grunts, the way he moved her demanding a faster pace until she was bouncing in his lap to the sound of his deep groans, let him push and bend her however he pleased. She was aware of his need, his instinctive reactions and the way he'd lost all control of himself while he seemed in a complete blur of lust, of taking more, his head thrown back until she rolled her hips into his at a particular angle that didn't only make her see stars. His head snapped up and his wild gaze was fixated on her, his grip tighter on her in a silent demand.

“Do tha' again,” he rasped.

The urgency in his voice, the insistence left no room for her to stall or disobey and she repeated the movement, her own eyes threatening to roll back in her head at the way he stretched her, the friction as delicious as it was overwhelming and she whined as his hand came down flat on the small of her back to guide her, arch her, taking complete control of her body, the wild gaze in his eyes weakening her whenever she met them.

He was drunk on the way she moved, followed his every verbal and physical demand, was under a spell watching her, the curves of her body, couldn't hold back from grabbing, moving, bending, taking and craving more the more she gave him, getting lost in her so quickly that he barely knew what he was doing and could hardly handle the way he slowed the pace himself, his grip clamping down on her hips to still her movements, a guttural groan escaping him when her eyes met his, innocent, questioning momentarily why he'd stopped her before she tilted her head and nodded slowly.

“You feel good, Matthew?” she coaxed. “Because you're...” She leaned in, pecking his lips and running her fingers through his short hair, rolling her hips slowly into his, felt him pulsing inside her. “You're making me feel so good...” Her voice trailed off, gasping as his hand came up to wrap around her throat, angling her head as his thumb dug into her skin just below her chin, forced her eyes to stay on his.

“Yeh?”

“I've watched you when you were watching me...” she whispered, biting her bottom lip.

“'ave yeh now?”

She nodded to the best of her ability with his grip on her, whimpering as he stroked his thumb over her throat. “I'm glad you're back... Turner's lucky to have you for security...”

The corner of his mouth tugged upwards and he couldn't suppress the way she made him feel, his eyes widening when she moved her hips, had him to mesmerised on her face. “Fookin'ell...” he groaned, swallowing hard.

His grip tightened automatically on her throat, his rings digging into her skin and she gasped, only for him to loosen his grip with genuine concern. “How about a drink?” she whispered.

Matthew tried to collect himself, nodding slowly. “Mmm...” he nodded. “Get off meh.”

She needed no telling twice, grateful for the way he steadied her until she'd slid off him and regained her balance, her heels clicking on the ground as she made her way over to the table.

He watched her hips sway as she walked, her ass bouncing, her skin shiny with sweat, her silhouette a vision in the dark. His fingers twitched with an impulsive need to force her down the moment she bent forward slightly to pick up the bottle and unscrew the top. “Fook...” he sighed as he slowly rose from his seat and made his way over. “I'm gunna make yeh scream me name, darlin'...”

She turned to look at him over her shoulder, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Yeah?”

He pursed his lips, taking the bottle from her. “Mmm,” he nodded. “Wha's yehr limit, doll?”

The way his eyes were locked on hers as he without sparing the glasses she handed him poured the drink and did not spill a drop had her knees weakening. She shook her head as if in a trance. “No limits, Sir.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“Matthew.”

The way her lips formed his name was almost too much and he tried to focus on the way their glasses met between them, though she still did not break his gaze, tempted him further as her eyes closed for a moment to savour the luxurious liquor. “Magnificent.”

He swallowed, could not stand waiting a moment longer. “Bend over the table,” he stated dryly, with all the control he had left put into his voice to steady his command. “'m gunna ruin yeh.”

She breathed out shakily, took another sip, then placed her glass down and followed his instructions without missing another beat, turning to look at him over her shoulder, but his hand was at the back of her neck in an instant, his palm hot against her skin from the glass.

“Down.”

She swallowed, her cheek pressed to the surface of the table, could feel him shuffling so opened her legs for him to step in between, earning herself an appreciative groan.

“Good girl.” His fingers were instantly between her thighs, though not teasing long before he was lined up with her again and filled her, too eager to build the pace slowly, too desperate for a warning and he held her where she was with his hand on her hip as she jerked forward, her body tense before she relaxed under his touch. “Shhh...” He smoothed his hand down her back, reveled in the way she adjusted, squirmed for a moment before she melted around him. “Thaa's a good girl...”

She whimpered, tried to brace herself for him really taking control.

“Are yeh alreyht, doll?” He leaned forward, shuffling to adjust himself so he had the leverage he needed.

As he filled her completely, pushed her onto the table, her heels slid off the ground, left her with absolutely no leverage and she turned around to look at him once his hand was no longer holding her down, instead taking hold of both her wrists behind her back. “Please...” she whispered with a nod.

He chuckled darkly before he drew back, then bucked his hips to fill her again, another two drawn out thrusts before he was bent over her and letting himself go, completely overwhelmed by the way she clung to him, clenched around him, the friction blissful, allowing him at least momentarily to forget the past few months and they were worth what his life was becoming now, how it was starting right then and there as the pace increased with every moment of the past he now wanted to let go, all his pent up frustration now coming to the surface as the girl in front of him begged for more, begged him to take it all out on her.

She could barely breathe, every push of his hips practically knocking the air from her lungs as he ruined her, fucked her down and coming true on his promise that he really would ruin her, proving her right that he had so much more to give, so much strength to demonstrate as she had no other choice but to take it all, asking for more although she had nowhere to go, nothing to hold onto, whining when he let go of her wrists to grip her hips and go even faster, the pace more punishing and she struggled to hold on, gripping the edge of the table and in the rush, the desperation knocking the half-full glasses to the ground, but he didn't miss a beat, she could merely hear a low chuckle, a squeeze of her hips and he fucked her faster, and she could feel him throbbing inside her, making sure she would feel him for the next few days in a way she hadn't for way too long and just as she thought he would fall over the edge, he slowed, though the anticipated moment to catch her breath was cut short when he leaned forward and reached to cup her throat, his other hand pressed flat to her abdomen as he pulled her up, stayed buried deep inside her as he held her with a tension in his arms, though nothing else to suggest that he couldn't maintain the same pace as before despite him being the only thing able to support her and he thrust up hard, making her whine loudly. “F-Fuck...”

“Mmm, tha's reyht, darlin'...” he hummed, his thumb dragging across her bottom lip before two of his fingers pushed inside her mouth, the way she sucked on them instantly making him tremble.

She was surprised by his voice, loved that he was more physical, actually gave what he promised rather than talking her through it. She could his heart pounding strongly against her back, her own not quite in sync. Her hair was stuck to her forehead, her dress bunched up, her breasts spilling out and she arched into him desperately as his hand closed over one of her breasts, squeezing, holding on while she had absolutely no way of keeping herself steady. She was completely at his mercy, had given everything up to him and it was only now that her eyes opened for a moment when he angled her head slightly and she met her own gaze in the mirror across the room, though her attention was quickly drawn to the expression on his face, somewhat gentle just for the moment, but she knew that any moment, he would completely ruin her.

“Look at yehrself, Fiorentina...” he drawled. “Absoluteleh stunnin'...”

She sighed, sucking harder on his fingers when his hips pushed up into hers again.

“Gorgeous, aren't yeh?” He slapped his hand across her chest lightly, watching her breasts bounce. “Mmm, luvleh tits...” he drawled. “Keep those pretteh eyes on meh, will yeh?”

She struggled to lift her gaze, keep it there, knew her eyes would roll back the moment he'd start fucking her again, that they'd close, that he was too much.

“Y'kno'... yehr cunt's real good...” Another buck of his hips that made her gasp. “Real fookin' tight... fits meh perfectleh...”

She swallowed, tears pearling down her cheeks at the intensity of him, the way he was so overpowering, and yet held her with complete security, tensing as his hand dragged flat down her body before her clit was pinched between his fingertips.

“Yeh got meh so close, if I'm honest...” he told her. “'n I want yeh teh let go wif meh, yeh? Please try 'n look at meh though, wanna see yehr face when yehr cunt melts on me cock...”

She could barely nod, could barely promise she could do what he asked.

“Been so long, doll, 'n yeh're an absolute dream, alreyht?”

“Matthew, mmm...” she mumbled, could hardly speak with his fingers in her mouth.

He nodded, gave a hum of satisfaction before his hips bucked into hers again, the way he picked up the pace almost impossible to adjust to, his fingertips now toying with her clit to the point where she could no longer focus on anything but the pleasure he promised, her mind so drunk on him, on lust and the desire to let go, knew that she could completely let herself go, but she tried precisely for that reason to fulfill his request, to force her eyes open when she sensed his punishing thrusts were nearing the final one and as her body tensed ultimately and he twitched inside her, she caught his gaze in the mirror and it intensified the pleasure that ripped through her to a high she hadn't quite felt the same way before, all of her tense, the pleasure precise to every nerve in her body it seemed until she fell limp in his arms and all of her relaxed as the heat of his release filled her.

For a moment, nothing but his heavy breathing behind her was audible, despite the way he'd let go, so hard, had gripped her so tightly, he'd held her securely while she'd lost all sense of where she was and as she managed to catch her breath, he still held her up safely until she managed to stand herself, his arms unwinding slowly from around her as he stepped back, though the moment he saw her tumble, his arm instantly looped around her waist again and she was pulled flush against him.

“Careful.”

His voice was low, but much quieter, much more in control. “Sorry,” she said quietly, a small smile playing around her lips and she moved to adjust her dress, could feel herself leaking already and hoped she would get a moment to clean herself up before getting back out.

“Yeh're alrehyt, yeh?” he asked once he was sure she could stand on her own.

She nodded slowly. “'course,” she said, blinking back at him and licking her lips. “You're... um...” She took a breath, her gaze wandering up and down his body, now redressed impeccably in his suit. He made it work better than any other member of security of Turner's she'd seen. “Strong.”

He raised his eyebrows, shaking his head slowly, unable to keep himself from laughing quietly. He scratched at his chin, knew she would walk out the door soon, had done what was expected of her, but he hated the thought of it. “Didn't get t'finish our drinks, did weh?”

She smiled. “Not entirely my fault.”

He chuckled. “Quite reyht,” he agreed. “So I'll get yeh a new one. Sit wif meh at the bar, will yeh, doll?”

“Will I?”

“'ope so,” he drawled. “I mean... I'd beh lyin' if I said I were readeh for yeh teh not beh mine anymore alreadeh...”

“I'm still here.”

“Fink I want yeh all night. Turner might not beh tha' generous so I'll pay wha' it takes.”

She took a hold of his wrist for a moment, looking at his watch. “Technically, my shift ends in a few minutes.”

He met her gaze, waiting for her to continue and enlighten what was unpredictable to him now.

“But I'll stay with you after hours.”

He opened his mouth, but she beat him to it, her hands smoothing down his chest.

“No money involved.” She leaned into him as soon as she felt his hands on her hips to guide her towards the door. “Just you and me, Matthew.”

[the-cult-of-russo]

Push and Pull (part 7)

Pairing: Matt Murdock x OC

Warnings: cursing.

----------

Later that day, Daphne was trying to distract herself from her jumbled thoughts. Between Matt and whatever the Italians were planning, she just wanted to chill. She had Breaking Bad on her laptop as she leisurely lay on the couch in sweatpants and a t-shirt. It would be dinner time soon and she was considering ordering take out so she didn't have to cook. She was pretty sure she didn't have much in anyway. Halfway through an episode, there was a knock at her door. She groaned as she stood, stretching her arms over her head until her back made a satisfying pop. Glancing out the peephole, she saw Foggy standing there. She groaned again before swinging the door open. 

"Daphne!" He grinned like he was surprised to see her in her own home despite him clearly coming here to see her. Her eyes drifted to his right hand which was holding a plastic bag.

"Can I help you, Foggy?" She asked patiently. 

"I was just… you know… in the neighbourhood and figured I'd swing by… with burgers," he flashed her a toothy smile and she folded her arms over her chest.

"Did Matt send you?" She asked suspiciously. She really hoped not, she wanted him to believe she was a grade A bitch and leave her alone.

"No, I just wanted to talk. But maybe when I did mention the possibility of me dropping in, Matt maybe seemed semi interested which may have made me more determined," he said vaguely. 

Foggy was almost as tiring as Matt but in a different way. She waved her hand to signal he could come in as she padded back over to the couch. He came in seeming more relaxed than the last time he was here and plonked himself down with ease into the armchair. 

"Look, I just wanna say that I'm sorry about Matt’s attitude," he started. She held a hand up right away to stop him.

"Stop. Don't apologise on his behalf when you've not done anything wrong. That's shit and means nothing. It's not your job to be apologising for him… besides, I haven't exactly been great either," she admitted reluctantly. He gave a tentative smile and nodded as he took out a burger from the bag. She took it with a grateful smile and started munching on it since she was so hungry. 

"I get it. I mean kind of. Matt's weird with you, obviously I'm his best friend so he's much nicer to me. He can still be an asshole at times though. But seeing you guys at the office was really something. Your personalities are a lot alike, I think," he mused as he bit into his own burger. Her jaw dropped, offence coloured her features.

"I'm nothing like him!" She argued with a scoff. He chuckled and gave her a lopsided grin.

"Mhm… sure. Either way, as much of an ass he can be, he's trying okay? Maybe… maybe you could also try a little harder to be nice," he suggested gently. She wanted to throw her burger at him but he wasn't completely wrong. She hadn't been making it easy but it was simply because she didn't like how she felt when she was around him.

"Can't make any promises," she retorted vaguely as she took another bite. Foggy just nodded, seeming to realise that was the best he would get from her.

"I do wanna say thanks though. For helping him when he really needed it. It means a lot to me that he has someone other than me who he can count on," he murmured softly. She glanced at him at the sincerity in his tone as she finished off her burger. 

"Can I ask you a personal question?" She asked curiously. 

"Only if I can ask one after," he bargained with a cheeky grin. She fully expected it though and nodded. It was only Foggy after all. She doubted it would be anything too crazy.

"Great, then shoot," he said confidently. 

"Do you ever just get sick of it? Being friends with the Devil of Hell's Kitchen? I mean if he goes down, you go down too. And not to mention the constant worry of him getting hurt or winding up dead," she said carefully. She remembered the tension between the friends at the office earlier. She wondered if they'd argued about Matt getting shot. 

Foggy looked conflicted for a second as he shifted in his seat. After a moment, he levelled a steady gaze at her.

"Matts like a brother to me. Sometimes I wish it was different. I didn't even find out about his secret until not too long ago. Sometimes I wished it was easy like it was back then. But it's not. And as hard headed as he is and as much as I worry, he's a good man. He wants to help people and make a real difference. So if I have to stress out about him getting hurt then it's the least I can do. He saves lives out there, more than the cops do. He genuinely makes a difference and I believe in what he does," he didn't falter in his speech and she found a pang of envy at how much Foggy seemed to care for Matt. There was such a strong loyalty there. 

She just nodded, accepting his words. There wasn't really a follow up to it; she was just curious about it. She guessed they could argue about Matt's safety until the world stopped rotating, but in the end Matt would always be Daredevil and Foggy would always back him up.

"What about you? Do you have any family or friends?" It was a simple question that he'd chosen but it made her uneasy nonetheless. She blew out a sigh and leaned back more on the couch.

"I've got family. My parents and an older sister and brother. My parents live in Hawaii now and my brother is a fancy brain surgeon. My sister Lisa lives in the suburbs. Two kids and a husband, living the housewife life," she snorted softly.

"Are you close to them?" He prompted curiously. She shook her head softly.

"Not super close I guess. I'd always been the odd one out growing up. Liked to use my fists, got in trouble a lot. Not really what my parents wanted from me and I didn't exactly live up to the reputation of my brother and sister. I'm closest to Lisa out of all of them but… we live very different lives. I don't get to see her or the kids too much," she admitted softly. Honestly it made her sad to think about. She'd never been super close with her parents or brother but Lisa always tried. Tried to be there and to understand her no matter how vastly different they were. She hadn't seen her niece and nephew in almost 6 months which felt like a lifetime. 

"What about friends?" Foggy asked cautiously. The pair were well aware this was more than the one personal question they'd agreed on but she allowed it anyway since it was connected.

"Does Brett count?" She snorted sheepishly. Foggy barked a laugh at her answer and shook his head.

"Oh no. That's so sad," he laughed. She found herself chuckling with him despite the fact he was right. 

"In case you haven't noticed, I'm a bit abrasive. Not the best way to make friends," she smirked. He just shook his head ruefully.

"Well we need to work on your people skills. But for what it's worth, you've got a friend in Foggy Nelson," he grinned at her. She smiled and lowered her head.

"I don't know, Foggy. You're way too cheerful to be tainted by my darkness," she teased. He tossed his burger wrapper at her but she caught it.

"Now see, that just means we balance each other out well. I mean, you have seen who I'm best friends with, right?" He smirked. He wasn't exactly wrong. 

"Can't argue with that," she snorted. 

She found she didn't mind Foggy's company as much as she thought she would. He wasn't confusing and he was easy to be around. And she didn't have the urge to be a complete bitch to him like she did with most people. 

"Alright, I need to head back to the firm. We’re working late tonight on a case," he said as he stood. She followed suit and walked him to the door. 

"Thanks for stopping by and for the food," she murmured gratefully. She meant it too. He gave her a bright grin and nodded.

"Anytime. Thanks for letting me in and saving my best friend," he chortled. Rolling her eyes good naturedly, she pointed to the hallway. He laughed as he stepped outside. 

"Hope to see you soon, Daphne," he smiled before disappearing down the hallway. 

She blew out a breath before walking back to her trusty couch and flopping onto it. Foggy seemed like a good friend and he wanted to be friends with her. She found herself naturally trusting him and it didn't even bother her. The only issue was who he was best friends with. How could she be friends with Foggy and avoid Matt? It wasn't practical. But she enjoyed having someone to talk to like Foggy and the feeling of companionship he brought her. Now her brain hurt again. She decided on cleaning up the rubbish from the food and tidying up a little to clear her mind.

-------------

Foggy felt good as he strolled into the office. He felt like his trip had gone well. He really didn't know why Matt and Daphne seemed to butt heads so much, she was always pleasant to him. Then again, he was Foggy Nelson. He had the bag with the one remaining burger and as he walked inside the office, he tossed it on the desk in front of Matt.

"It's cold," Matt muttered with a frown as he got it out. Foggy didn't even feel bad, snorting as he sat in the seat on the opposite side of the desk.

"Yeah. I went to see Daphne and we ended up talking for a bit," he said casually, keeping his eyes on his best friend. He saw Matts eyebrows raise slightly before he forced himself to look neutral. Matt cared. He cared about everyone in this city, it's why he did what he did. He even cared about the welfare of the girl who pissed him off and confused him.

"Really? And uh… was she… alright?" Foggy almost snorted at how not nonchalant his friend was being. 

"She was fine. It was nice really. We ended up talking about her family and stuff," he replied, still watching Matts reactions. Matt actually looked stunned by that revelation as he started to eat his cold burger.

"I would have thought that was too personal to ask about," he said flippantly. 

"Yeah well, it's amazing what she's willing to talk about when you're not an asshole," Foggy teased, causing Matt to roll his eyes. He knew Matt was dying to know what he found out but that he was stubborn enough not to ask. He decided to just tell him anyway. It wasn't anything overly personal so he didn't feel like he was doing anything wrong by sharing what she'd told him.

"Her parents moved to Hawaii. From what she said it sounds like they don't really talk. Her brother's a neurosurgeon and I don't think she talks to him much either. Then her older sister, Lisa I think, lives in the burbs with two kids and a husband. She said she gets on with her sister the most but how they live different lives. But I don't know, man. She seemed… lonely. It was sad. I mean, when I asked if she had friends her only response was Brett," he explained sounding mortified.

"Jesus," Matt muttered, eyebrows raised as he set the wrapper down after finishing his burger.

"Exactly. But I let her know that I'm willing to be a friend if she needs one. And maybe if you were a little nicer then you could be too. Being isolated isn't a good feeling, Matt. She needs friends. She might not go out and kick ass like you, but she's still into some heavy shit. She needs support," Foggy lectured. 

Matt huffed a little and rubbed his temples as he looked over the desk at him.

"Why are you so set on this? We butt heads and I don't think it's going to change. Even when I'm nice to her, she flips like a switch. She's confusing and infuriating and there's no point in me trying," he insisted firmly.

"Fine, I'll leave it for now. But just try to keep it in mind. She might be the PI but I like to think I'm good at reading people. I don't think she's used to people really caring about her and maybe that makes her defensive and lash out? I'm not a psychologist, I don't really know. But maybe next time she goes all bitch mode, you just try to be patient with her," Foggy suggested carefully. Matt pursed his lips and just nodded stiffly. Foggy wasn't sure he was even listening at this point but at least he tried. He honestly thought the pair of them could do good things together if they got their heads out of their asses and worked as a team. 

[anika-ann]

Hands Too Cold, but Heart of Gold - Pt.10

The Reveal (final)

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word count: 3970

Summary: Avenger!reader AU, love triangle. After Natasha provided you some supporting evidince, you take up courage and go talk to Steve. It goes about as well as expected... okay, maybe it’ not that bad.

Warnings: some awkwardness, swearing, fluffiest fluff to ever fluff

Story Mastelist

────── ·❆· ──────

You were standing in front of the door, staring at it blankly. Once again, you were replaying something in your mind, unable to leave the loop.

Natasha had given you a recording. A recording of her conversation with Steve. An impossible recording.

“When— when did-- this happen?” you had asked her shakily, absolutely stunned and carefully guarding your heart so you wouldn’t let the hope in. This can’t be real.

“Can’t you tell? You were there in the beginning. It was the night you talked to Matt.”

“You— how-?”

“Honestly, you are both so pathetically oblivious it hurts. You really need to finally make out. I’m sure it will feel better than with Matt.”

You had had no words that could reply to that comment satisfactorily, so you had aimed for a different issue.

“He said that being with a teammate-“

“And you heard what I said back. Just take a fucking shower, brush your teeth and go talk to him, Frosty. And try to keep it quiet,” she had mumbled and you had looked at her, honestly clueless.

“Keep it— you think we’ll fight?”

“I think you’ll fuck, sestra.”

You were still blushing when standing in front of Steve’s door almost an hour later. You were a nervous wreck, still not quite accepting the possibility of the recording not being fake. Then again, there was this annoying hope sprouting in your heart and you totally blamed the sneaky Russian spy for that.

“Captain Rogers, I would like to inform you that your teammate known as Frostbite, or Snowflake as you like to call her, is standing in front of your door for exactly five minutes now,” a well-known voice with British accent announced in Steve’s room, loud enough for you to hear it.

Oh, JARVIS, you sly AI.

“Frosty? Wanna come in?” he called out lightly and you released the breath you had been holding and knocked on the door uselessly. Steve humoured you, inviting you in once more.

You hesitantly opened the door, all your mental bravado flying out of the window. Not that there had been much to begin with in the first place, but it had been something.

You peeked into the room, finding Steve cosy on his bed, resting his back against the headboard, his knees bended. He switched to sitting cross-legged when you entered.

“Hey,” he greeted you softly, putting his sketchbook aside and you managed a half-hearted smile.

“Hi, Steve. Haven’t seen this baby for a while,” you noted, beckoning to the notebook. He smiled shyly, closing it.

“Yeah. I thought it needed revisiting so it wouldn’t feel neglected. Haven’t seen you for a while.”

You closed the door, pressing your lips together at the strike. ”Fair. I’m sorry, Steve. I didn’t want to ignore you. I… I just needed some time for myself.”

His baby-blues searched your face with a hint of worry.

“You look tired. Come sit?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the care. Yes, of course, Steve cared. Steve loved you even, but… but.

“Thanks.”

You approached the bed slowly; seating yourself on the bed felt like sealing a deal, as if there was no way out now. It was time to talk and possibly embarrass yourself for a lifetime. He moved a little closer, coy, but with a goal. He lightly caressed your bare arm, his honest eyes locked with yours. Shit you really could drown in that sea of blue.

“Feel better now? No need for more alone time?”

You closed your eyes, taking in his gentle touch. This was a great opportunity – he literally offered you a way to say it.

“I… I think I was alone for long enough,” you whispered, his soothing motion faltering. You opened your eyes slowly, worried about his reaction.

“Is it about the date? Did something happen?”

You observed his face wearing a strange expression you always interpreted as worry – this time, you couldn’t help feeling like there was something else, something you couldn’t put your finger on. His brow furrowed with anger too.

“He didn’t hurt you, did he?” he asked warily, his anger making sense to you now. But there was still something… “Snowflake? Did he-“

“No! No, Steve, Matt didn’t hurt me. He was… he was really nice to me, actually.”

“Oh. Good.”

Despite his words, something in his eyes darkened. It was such a tiny change, you wouldn’t have noticed it, but you were fascinated by his hypnotic gaze until he wasn’t looking into your eyes anymore. His hand fell too and his fingers started crumbling his sheets as if they couldn’t stay still. His lips formed a smile, but you didn’t believe it. You knew him too well.

“Where did you go? What was it like? Was he a gentleman?”

You licked you lips. His interest seemed genuine, but once again, there was hint of something venomous. You couldn’t help feeling like you weren’t Gerda but Kai, suddenly poisoned by the Devil, seeing flaws everywhere. It was so ironic you barely held back a snort.

“Nice Italian restaurant, not too crowded. The food was really good. Uhm… and yes, he was a gentleman, but… I didn’t come here to talk about my date, Steve,” you said, your stupid brain finally making the connection – or you hoped so.

It was jealously. Steve was jealous. Forget Bible, this was a goddamned revelation.

“Oh. Sorry,” he smiled hastily, nervous. “I didn’t mean to pry-“

You had no idea where the bravado came from, but you took his hand he kept closed in a fist in his lap to yours. It worked greatly; he shut up.

“Steve, I— okay, maybe I need to say it, because I feel like I’m always telling you everything and it would be weird if I suddenly didn’t, so-- uhm. Okay.”

He tilted his head curiously, looking utterly confused. But his body relaxed, the stiffness you could see ever since you had started talking about the date resolving. Well. You would both have to suffer through it once more. You cleared your throat.

“I had a great time with Matt. He… he walked me home and kissed me-“

Steve gave you a tiny smile, obviously trying very hard to be supportive friend slash brother and squeezing your hand gently.

“-and there was nothing. Just… nothing. It was… weird. Really weird. Not that he wasn’t a good kis-“

You covered your mouth with your fist to shut yourself up before more verbal vomit would come out. This was going terribly. Yet, Steve patiently sat opposite to you, listening to your non-sense, because he was a sweetheart.

Your sweetheart.

“Well. Let’s say we didn’t click. I— I’m not going out with him again. It was… embarrassing for both of us. But… what I’m trying to say is, that… that I’m really glad I went out with him, because… because it helped me realize something,” you explained slowly, finally getting on the right track.

For some reason, Steve looked like a deer caught in the headlights.

“Steve?” you addressed him, worried.

Seriously, he looked so spooked for a moment that it sent your heart racing; until he shook his head and moved a little closer to you, his free hand coming to caress your shoulder. You were utterly baffled by that development. Did he… did he do the math? Were you that obvious? Because so far you sounded to yourself like talking lots of crap.

“It’s okay, Snowflake,” he whispered with a reassuring smile. “You know you can tell me anything, right? You know I love you, nothing will change that.”

Your mouth fell open and you just stared at him wide-eyed and endlessly relieved. “Oh thank god,” you breathed, “I love you too, Steve.”

His smile looked a little broken now, but perhaps it was the weight of the confession. His palm cupped your cheek and your eyelashes fluttered at the sensation, just like your heart.

“I know I’m from the times that were less tolerant, but I would never look at you differently, Snowflake.”

His words made you freeze. Hold on a sec. “Steve-“

“It’s okay. So you… like women, that’s not-“

You slipped from his gentle hands, burying your face in your own, whining miserably. “Oh my god, this isn’t happening.”

You felt like you got punched to your stomach by Iron Man. Or by Steve’s shield to make it more ironic. Oh, this was not happening. Steve just told you he loved you, loved you despite being gay, while you finally admitted you loved him and you fucking thought he had confessed to loving you too.

“Someone just kill me, please,” you muttered, your hands immediately ripped away with not much grace.

“Don’t even think about it, this is not end of the-“

“Jesus Christ, Steve!” you snapped, startling him. His hands immediately went away, raised in a harmless gesture. “I’m not telling you I’m gay! I’m not trying to come out to you or tell you that I want to— to kill myself over it!”

Though now it seems to be a likeable option.

He blinked in shock; his lips parted. He looked so fucking cute you just wanted to kiss the confusion away – which would be pretty self-explanatory, but maybe a bit harsh.

“So… what are you saying?”

“I’m pretty comfortable with my heterosexuality, thank you very much, but it’s good to know you’re tolerant, not that it’s surprising.”

“…okay?”

You took a deep breath, shaking your head with your eyes closed. You were going to say it. Right now. Everything. You didn’t have to look into his eyes while doing it, right? Instead, you played with your fingers in your lap, watching the digits meeting and parting again.

“What I’m saying is that when I thought you were gonna die, it was the scariest thing I ever felt,” you whispered, his sharp inhale too loud in the room. “That every time you show up in that uniform of yours, my heart is going crazy and it’s not just because I’m afraid of what will happen on the mission – I’m positive, because my pulse is doing the exactly same thing when you just walk around in one of your stupid blue shirts or white t-shirts, because seriously, I’m pretty sure that you wearing those should be illegal.”

You checked his expression quickly, but he seemed absolutely stunned. Well, at least he wasn’t running away yet; though this was his room, he had nowhere to run.  You lowered your gaze again.

“I’m saying that every time I’m falling asleep in your arms during a movie night, all I want is to wake up in them too. When we’re training and you… somehow end up on top of me, I wish for you to stay there a little longer. Every time you look at me with those ridiculously pretty eyes of yours, I’m not sure whether I should snuggle you or… or…” Shit, I am such a coward. “I-“

His fingers found a way to your cheek once more, sliding under your chin, light pressure making you look up. You heart was pounding in your ears – you couldn’t remember being scared like this, ever. This was a different kind of fear, the deep kind you hadn’t experienced in a long, long time.

“When I thought you wouldn’t make it…” he whispered, his gaze flickering across your face, looking as amazed as if he just found a relic. “It was the worst feeling I lived through since I crashed the plane into an icy ocean.”

Your breath hitched. Please, please, tell me you’re saying what I think you’re saying.

“Every time you show up, I wish you were wearing your smile, because it’s like sunshine.”

His thumb traced your lips slowly, cautious, and you pressed a little daring kiss on the finger, praying you weren’t crossing a line. His own lips spread in the softest smile you’d ever seen and honestly, all you wanted to do was to taste that smile, your abdomen heating up at the idea.

“Whenever you’re falling asleep during a movie night… I wish I wouldn’t have to carry you to your room, but to mine instead, to keep you all night. When you happen to end up under me… I have to get up fast, because if I would stay a little longer…”

Alright, you were very distracted by where that thought would go, but holy sweet Jesus, Steve was really making a love confession and you couldn’t believe this was happening. It physically hurt you not to pinch yourself or to touch the adorable blush that appeared on his cheeks at the last exclaim.

“And when you look at me – the way only you do, I can’t even describe it, it’s like I matter, me, my bare soul, just-- all I want is to kiss you.”

You were positive you just changed into a puddle of love-sick jello. Definitely. You were absolutely putty and it took too much effort to ask him one simple question that burned on your tongue. You made sure to look into his eyes when asking it, the unknown feeling rushing through your veins, plucking up your courage,

“Then why don’t you?” you whispered, rewarded by his orbits lighting up, his smile widening. His gaze flickered to your lips and back.

“I don’t know. I guess I’ll just try.”

The distance of the few inches seemed infinite with how slowly he crossed it. But you were willing to wait for it, your eyes falling shut when his own got unbearably close and then finally his lips were there too.

For a fraction of second, your messy mind returned several nights back to a completely different kiss, the reason why it hadn’t felt right finally clicking into place. Because this was right. Steve’s lips gently pecking yours and retreating a little at instant, just to trace the texture with his thumb once more and drive the butterflies in your stomach crazier.

You met his gaze, drunk and a bit baffled. Why did he stop so soon? Was it bad?

“I wanted to do that for a very long time,” he breathed, his eyes burning with honesty and delight.

“Just that?”

“Considering that a slap could have come at this point-“

You raised your hand to his cheek and he must have seen it peripherally, because for the shortest moment, his eyes widened with horror. But you just laid your palm on his jaw, pulling him into another kiss, this time making sure it would last. Steve’s lips sunk into yours with more confidence, apparently not afraid of you slapping him anymore.

You let your fingers wander up his arm, heat coiling in your abdomen at the idea of that arm holding you down, drawing you close. It had happened before, but now you knew the meaning would be completely different and your toes curled at the thought. You sighed when he took your lower lip between his, sucking on it tenderly. Oh god, you couldn’t feel your own limbs now and the same arm you had caressed just a moment ago wrapped around your waist, indeed pulling you close, basically making you sit in his lap. Which was a little uncomfortable and straddling him wouldn’t, so you shifted in your position.

He sighed in appreciation at your thinking, the tip his tongue gently asking for a permission to go on. You let him in, the pool of warmth inside your body spreading just everywhere, always coming back to your lap.

You felt his fingers tighten in the fabric of your top, his lips leaving, his forehead resting against yours so you could both catch your breath. You massaged the back of his neck, unaware your hand had got there along the way.

“Can you open your beautiful eyes for me, Snowflake?” he pleaded lowly, his voice rougher than usual. With desire, you realized.

Your heart possibly stopped – had he always been saying the nickname with so much affection and you hadn’t noticed or did he finally let his feelings bubble into his voice now?

Your legs squeezed his hips tighter on instinct, drawing something between a chuckle and a whine from his lips. You obediently opened your eyes to meet his – this up close, you could see the subtle threads of green in the sea of blue.

Putting some distance between your faces, you couldn’t help but feast your eyes on him. His pupils were blown wide, his cheeks flushed, his mouth almost bloodily red. Yet, his expression was one of awed, astonished even, and indescribably tender.

“I love you,” he said softly, his eyes locked with yours to add severity to his declaration, the words finally meaning what you always wanted them to mean.

“And I love you, Steve.”

His lips parted, his gaze suddenly hesitant. “You said I was family.”

“So did you,” you noted and he gave you a lopsided smile which was something you wanted to kiss away. But no, your stupid mouth needed to say something else. “And technically, husband and wife are family too-“

His pupils went comically wide and you realized what you just implied.

“Not that I’m thinking about marriage already! I meant— I just-- I wanted to-“ you stuttered and the beautiful creature that had you in its arms pressed its lips together before smiling brilliantly and shutting you up with another kiss. You were all for returning it before you could say something even more stupid like wanting to have his kids that would inherit his blond hair and his beautiful eyes.

You wriggled in his lap instead, earning a startled and very pleased sound from him, granting you access to his mouth, your tongues meeting. He pressed you against his broad chest in response, his hand moving a bit lower, running down your lower back and heading sideways; you were sure you were about to have a heart attack when he cupped your lower left cheek and you couldn’t think of a better way to go from this world.

“Steve,” you breathed to his mouth, rewarded by his grip tightening, his fingers digging into your flesh. Oh Jesus.

There was no better response than slipping your daring hand under his t-shirt on his back, feeling the muscles shifting as he kept pressing you closer. God, this man might have been an artist, but he himself was a work of art.

“Miss Anderson, Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff is asking me about how your conversation went,” JARVIS announced smoothly, sending you into a cardiac arrest and causing you to bit into Steve’s lips at the fright. “What shall I tell her?”

Steve shot you a puzzled look, licking on his wounded lip and you whimpered miserably, letting your forehead fall on his shoulder.

“Thanks, J. You can tell her that if she keeps interrupting like that, we definitely will keep it quiet tonight,” you whined and JARVIS, the friend he was, just said he would tell her exactly that.

You honestly didn’t know whether you should laugh or cry. What if Steve got mad now?

“Natasha?” he asked quietly and you just whined louder before facing him.

“Yes. She might have convinced me to crawl from the hole of my room and misery and admit how I feel about you.”

“Really? That’s… oh. She actually tried to convince me too,” he admitted tentatively and you shrieked, having a pretty accurate idea of how that had gone. “What is it?”

“She might have… used some… pretty solid evidence to… encourage me.” Steve’s eyebrows shot up in silent question, worry darkening his features. “A recording… of your conversation few nights back from the kitchen and-”

“Son of a-“

You looked at him, shocked, but he stopped himself before the actual curse left his mouth. His face was… priceless. Also, his lip seemed just fine, so you hadn’t hurt him that bad. Good.

“I honestly don’t know if I want to kill her or hug her,” he noted, making you grin. He wasn’t mad. Just… taken back, which was an appropriate reaction.

“Well. We are here, right? Together?” Steve’s arm tightened around you on instinct. “So maybe we should rather send her a fruit basket or something?”

Steve’s face lighted up with a mischievous smile, a spark of something appearing in his eyes. Ah-oh. His lips moved to your ear, the touch and his low voice making you shiver.

“Or maybe we should buy her some earplugs… for when we won’t keep it quiet.”

You dug your fingers into the skin of his back, momentarily forgetting how to breathe. Now that was a whole new side of the mischievous Steve you just glimpsed. Jesus. You did not see that coming and you sure as hell didn’t expect the heat pooling in your lower abdomen at that note being set on fire.

His hands framed your face, forcing you to look at him. He suddenly seemed anxious.

“Too much? I didn’t mean tonight! I don’t want to rush it, I’m perfectly fine with just keeping you for tonight, or— or not-“

You couldn’t believe that this guy honestly loved you, but somehow, it made sense. His sudden fright of crossing a line was adorable and the honesty in his words was something to cherish. He truly didn’t want to rush, willing to wait for you. He had a practice in that, after all. And so did you.

A little more waiting was fine with you, but you weren’t about to leave him thinking he spooked you or something. Oh no. You hoped he would live up to that suggestion. Possibly soon.

“Steve? Shut up and kiss me.”

A beautiful grin spread on his lips. “Yes, madam.”

────── ·❆· ──────  

Daredevil was on his nightly patrol, listening in for any disturbance of the relatively calm night when the air shifted, the temperature dropping suddenly. He couldn’t tell the precise figure, but it was close to freezing point now.

He thought of you immediately. Did something-

A snowflake fell on his lips, melting the very same moment it made contact. His breath caught in his throat. Almost soundlessly, other snowflakes fell, one after another, a symphony, the softest lullaby. It didn’t sound like crying; it sounded like happiness, the sounds lighting up the city, making his heart melt as well.

He smiled melancholically. Something did happen; you finally found love.

────── ·❆· ──────  

Natasha poured herself another glass of wine, sitting down on the couch, which was where Clint found her few minutes later.

“Ladies’ night?” he teased and the Russian just grinned at him.

“You’re paying up, brat moy.”

Clint’s eyes widened when he realized what she was implying. “You’re joking.”

“JARVIS, replay what our special snowflake asked you to tell me.”

Your voice filled the common room, while Natasha just extended her hand in Barton’s direction. He pressed a twenty into her hand with no further protest.

“What’s the gathering here? Oh, money? I’m interested,” Tony hummed, stopping in his tracks and taking several steps backwards to the couch to find out what that was about.

“Nah, Barton’s just paying up for a bet we made ages ago.”

“Really? About?”

“JARVIS? Could you-“ Natasha just started and the record played again.

“Son of a bitch, I think the hell just froze over – which would actually explain the early snow. How did that finally happen?” Tony asked, astonished.

“I’m afraid Agent Romanoff is quite a matchmaker, sir.”

Tony eyed the spy warily. “Dangerous woman. But you know it’s on you to buy us all earplugs now, right?”

“You think she’s a screamer? Or he is?”

“Ugh, I’m leaving,” Natasha exclaimed at Clint’s question, quickly jumping to her feet. She so didn’t need to be here for that. She still heard them as she was leaving.

“Dunno. I have a better question. How long until Rogers breaks a bed?”

She rolled her eyes and turned her glass bottoms up.

In the end, Stark won with his guess of five days, while Barton lost with his fifteen and Bruce with his guess of twenty, both losers naively hoping Steve would be more old-fashioned.

It took them six days to sleep together judging by the thin white frost with beautiful ornaments covering all windows of the Tower the seventh morning. The eighth night they broke a bed; and it happened at three a.m. Natasha swore she was never playing matchmaker again.

────── ·❆· ──────

Tags: @mermaidxatxheart​, @murdermornings​, @elisaa-shelby​ @ask-hellbent-tweek

────── ·❆· ──────

Steve Rogers masterlist

────── ·❆· ──────

There we go! It’s done! Thank you for reading :)

If you’re interested in further story, stay tuned for Heart Too Cold, but Friends of Gold... and if you want to stay tagged for it/get tagged, shoot me an ask or something :-*

[bigfan-fanfic]

Media Mogul (Batdad Headcanons)

Requested by @libraryoffandomsuniverse for “ Could you please do a headcanon of Bad Dad's relationship with the media and the general public? Does he use social media? Is he regularly voted Gotham's best dressed man, or tops magazine lists of Celebs we wished were our parents? Also for the Bat Dad social media one, do the boys tease him about being voted GQ's sexiest man of the year? Maybe one year he ties with one of them!! “

Yes, I know it’s Matt Bomer, but I ran out of good Batman GIFs and just look at him!

Bruce Wayne always has to be visible. Going out in public, on social media. Always.

This becomes easier with you around. Being Bruce Wayne’s husband allows your presence to become an extension of Bruce’s. By seeing you, it’s automatic that Bruce is still around. If he’s there, “you two are so cute; how have you been; look at how they still look at each other!” and if he’s not, “poor Y/N, caught up with that no-good cheater” or whatever else they’ll say.

The point is, Bruce encourages your relationship with the media and basically the public in general.

Whenever there’s an interview for a Wayne, they come to you (probably because you’re also the easiest to deal with)

You are active on social media, commenting and liking and posting photos and videos of yourself and the boys.

Bruce used to hate doing interviews and publicity shoots, so you offered to do one or two for him. And suddenly you’re doing most of them, being fed questions about Wayne Enterprise’s business choices, how you feel about the recent tabloid shots of Bruce and a famous actress, your response to rumors that you and Oliver Queen are having an affair...

People sometimes ask you questions about yourself or the boys online, and you’ve gotten a reputation for funny answers.

Whenever Bruce actually does post something on social media, it’s almost always a reaction to something you’ve posted. Sometimes it’s hilarious, sometimes it’s sweet

Like the time you posted an announcement of it being your anniversary, and Bruce, later that night, posts a picture of you two as kids with your arm around Bruce and Alfred with a hand on your shoulders with the caption “Forever and ever, Y/N.”

Bruce is generally considered Gotham’s sexiest man. But a few years after you two adopted Dick, one magazine came out with you on the cover with “Gotham’s Best-Dressed Man” under your name. From then on, you and Bruce “fight” for the title, with you getting it some years and him getting it others.

These awards may seem pointless, but they give you an excellent opportunity to plug charities like the Wayne Foundation, the Thomas Wayne Children’s Hospital, the Martha Wayne Small Business Fund, and the Jason Todd Supercrime Relief Fund.

There’s a now-famous article among the Justice League from Central City Picture News’ entertainment blog entitled. “Top 10 Celebrities We Wish Were Our Parents.” Just after Brad Pitt and Angelina Jolie (this was before their breakup) was Y/N Wayne - Bruce’s name being conspicuously absent.

Iris knows the reporter, who apparently had never forgiven Bruce for tabloid rumors of cheating on you with some ballet dancer, so he wrote Bruce out of the column.

So now the League makes fun of the whole Batfam, asking you how you manage four kids as a single dad (usually in front of Bruce) or when seeing one of the boys with Bruce, going “where’s your father at?”

And yes, it’s no secret that you and Bruce make for an attractive couple, and that your sons are wonderfully handsome in their own right.

However, it still might come as a surprise when People votes you the Sexiest Man Alive. Twice. Apparently you are what is considered to be a “hot dad.”

The first time, Bruce smiles at you and brags about it to the press when he is interviewed. And to Clark. And Ollie. And Hal. And Arthur. And Diana. And Dinah... yeah, pretty much everyone.

The second time is a tie. With Dick Grayson.

“This father and son duo may not be blood related, but their attractive looks are only part of what make them so appealing. Their genuine cheer, funny mentalities, and commitment to charity and giving in the U.S. (and maybe the world’s) most crime-ridden city make these two men so sexy! We interviewed Dick Grayson and his adopted dad, Y/N Wayne, on how they coped through loss and how they maintain their positive attitudes. Additionally, Dick tells us how he keeps in such great shape, and Y/N opens up about how he runs Wayne Enterprises with his husband...”

Bruce gets teased for not being as sexy as his husband or son.

Ollie: Wow, Y/N, why do you put up with such an uggo?

Hal: Wait, no, don’t tell us. He has a great personality, right?”

Bruce: *Bat-Glare*

They burst out laughing

Dick also gets teased by the other boys about not hotter than you are. Jason is especially mean because he thought he was in the running.

Also, one last note.

When you go out in public, people recognize you more often than they do Bruce.

Possibly because he has a look-a-like in a certain Metropolis reporter that you have occasionally been seen talking to, so people are afraid they’ve got it wrong

But mostly, people respect your space, especially as most Gothamites respect you for your work improving the city, and most out-of-towners don’t want to interrupt your day.

It’s become sort of a meme for people to take selfies with you in the background, coming up with funny captions for whatever expression you have on your face at the time. You tend to reblog these things whenever they pop up because they’re hilarious.

[har-rison-s]

you've silenced the great richie tozier!

request: I love your writings! You said you will write for all of the losers? Would you write a Richie x reader where the reader is an even bigger trash mouth and he’s like oh thats super hot?

A/N: Bonsoir, ladies and gents. Saturday, 19:45. Starting a little earlier, yay. Really wanna finish this tonight. I've watched 3 horror movies today, jesus christ. + Now I'm home alone. Now it's Sunday, haha. My eyes are tired from crying (I watched Chapter Two again and cried everything out). But I wanna finish this, I hope I do. Yah, lol, I didn't even live up to my own expectations. It's Tuesday and I really hope I actually finish and post this tonight. Happy reading!

warnings: strong language, horrible jokes cause I'm no comedian in all actuality.

IT masterlist

main masterlist

gif credit goes to owner, which isn't me!

“Beats spending it inside your mother.” Richie's exclaims and raises a hand for Stanley to high-five, but the boy brings it down. Last day of school, the boys have emptied their school bags of their contents, and are currently sharing their summer plans.

“Oh, it's Y/N.” Eddie announces, he sees the girl coming towards him and his friends. “Hi, Y/N.” Eddie waves at her and Y/N waves back.

“Hey, virgins.” She greets them with a big smile. The boys respond with quiet “hellos”, and they expect Richie to respond with something in his style of conversation, but there's just a small “hello” from him, too. Bill shows his surprise, looking at Richie with raised eyebrows. Y/N senses the strange silence between the four and scratches the back of her head out of pure nerves. “Why are we all so stiff? Playing manikins?”

“Yeah, haven't heard of the new play? The plot is set in a clothing store.” Richie says, his tongue back to work. Y/N narrows her eyes at the boy.

“And I assume you'll be playing the guy who gets a wardrobe makeover?” She raises an eyebrow, and eyes Richie up and down. His friends laugh, and for the first time in his life, Richie doesn't have anything to say. Even his friends notice. “So, what are you guys doing today? Last day of school!” Y/N wiggles her eyebrows with a grin on her lips.

“W-we have thuh-the Bar-Barrens.” Bill informs her. “Y-You wanna come al-along?”

“Sure. I've got nothing else to do, anyway.” Y/N shrugs.

“You're so sweet.” Richie says sarcastically.

“No sweeter than your dad's tongue.” She shoots right back, which earns laughter from the other three boys. Richie's quite frozen on the spot from her quick response. He adjusts his glasses. There's many things to say, but none of them cross Richie's mind. And he hates to be losing at a conversation of this sort.

The group of five start to head towards their bikes, though Henry Bowers and his friends are unfortunately in the group's way. First Bowers pushes Richie into Stanley, which causes both boys to fall down. Y/N immediately runs over to them and helps the boys to get back up on their feet.

Once they're up again, Richie and Stan both thank her for it. One boy is more flustered than the other, looking at her with deep red cheeks. Confidently, and without shame, Y/N faces Henry Bowers and shows him her clearly pissed off expression. But the bully isn't looking at her yet. “Hey, Bowers!” She calls out to him. Eddie, Richie, Stan and Bill look to her in a contained panic, and the Bowers gang, all four of them, turn their attention to Y/N, and the main bully sees the angry expression on her face. But it doesn't intimidate him in the slightest. “The fact that you're a dick doesn't make yours bigger.”

“Are you crazy?!” Eddie hisses to her, but Y/N pays no mind to the boy. Eddie's clearly in worry about her further well-being. Henry Bowers starts approaching her, and she stands bravely between her friends, not intimidated. And even though she's not afraid of the bully, she knows she should have kept her mouth shut. Just like Richie, this curse of always spitting out jokes and insults, will get her literally killed one day.

“Your summer will be hell.” Bowers growls. “You'll wish you were never born, you slag.” He tells her.

Y/N still looks at the bully, her slight anger rising more and more in his eyes, and feels a tugging at her skirt. It's Bill, signalling for her that it's time to go, but she doesn't notice him yet. “At least I'm not a failure like you.” She shoots right back at Bowers.

“Fuck!” Richie curses and they have to grab Y/N and make her leave with them a bit forcefully. The only way she could survive now is just to run. She and the boys head in a quick pace to their bikes, they're running as fast as they can, the Bowers gang right behind them. Though it's a little hard for Henry to run when his legs are like wooden sticks.

Though Richie is scared to death to actually get caught by Bowers and for Y/N to have the same destiny, he's very impressed by her. She's just like him, but—wait, could that be possible?—a bigger trashtalker than Richie. Could that really be possible?

He's also a bit jealous of her, but mostly he finds this increased, female-version-of-him Y/N quite… attractive. And not just because she speaks the way he does and because their personalities are basically the same, but also because she's pretty. She's very pretty. Though he feels like her personality bests her looks (No offense, Y/N's face, he thinks). She's magnetic.

“Fuck, I forgot my bike.” Y/N realises a big detail.

“You can ride with me.” Eddie proposes, and Y/N nods. They try to get on their bikes as fast as they can, with Bowers right around the corner.

“Be careful, Eddie, she might give you cooties.” Richie says, already on his bike and waiting for his friends to get started.

“You've already got all of them.” Y/N responds before Eddie can, and the boys laugh, despite their situation.

Y/N gets on the back of Eddie's bike, and off they all go. Bill leads his friends the shortest way to the Barrens, they pedal behind him as fast as they can. Y/N hears Bowers yelling profanities after them, threats that he will find them and make this summer their last.

But the girl only laughs at his threats and yells, and that takes Richie's attention once again. He adjusts his glasses and grins at the girl. She's completely untouched by Bowers and what comes with the name, the fear of him is chained to his last name like a dog to a fence. She's reckless, and she's funny. She's got a strong spirit. And Richie digs that. He hasn't met a girl like her before.

At least one that hangs out with him and his friends, and is, on the inside, a good person. Y/N looks over at Richie. “What are you looking at, Tozier?” She asks. “Glasses don't work? I'm not Diane Lane, sorry, sweetheart.”

The other boys laugh, but Richie's reaction is lesser. There's only a smile on his lips. “You wish.” He says to her, and Y/N sticks out her tongue at him.

“You wish you were Matt Dillon, Tozier.” She says, and looks at the road in front of her, and Eddie's hair that gets in the way of this view.

Richie hangs onto her words, and doesn't want to admit the truth in them. He does wish so, Dillon's the biggest heartthrob of this decade. There isn't a boy who doesn't wish to be in his shoes, with his looks and his charm. Cause all the girls dig Matt Dillon.

“You like him?” Richie asks her, and Y/N turns her head back at him. She raises an eyebrow once again.

“What's it to you?” She asks. Richie pretends like he's thinking, thinking deeply. His hand on his chin and a far-away look in his eyes.

“Say, what would you do if I woke up tomorrow and I would be Matt Dillon? Look like him, talk like him.” Richie proposes an idea. “What's your action?” He raises an eyebrow and grins suggestively.

“You'd be in Hollywood, which is a thousand miles away, so… I wouldn't really be able to do anything.” Y/N says, shrugging.

“Take a left!” Bill yells from the front, and Eddie speeds in front of an appalled Richie. The glassed boy only stares after Y/N on the back of Eddie's bike. She's got a big grin on her face, and she even laughs at Richie. Once again, she's made him lose his voice.

“Ha-ha! I'm in front of you!” Eddie brags to Richie. The boy's always been the fastest, but not now. He can't even think of being at the very front of his friend group. It doesn't even seem to matter now, doesn't seem like the most important thing.

What does though, is how to out-smart this girl. But looks like she's always a step--no, correction--a joke ahead of Richie. She's out-sassed him, and Richie is blown away. No one's ever done that before. And a girl? Most girls these days can't even look guys in the eye without fainting or blushing red like tomatoes. But Y/N's different. And Richie can't deny that he finds her hot, and her snapping back and out-smarting him.

Through the time the Losers and Y/N spent together on the last day of school, most of it was spent listening to Y/N and Richie going back and forth with jokes, too-corny-to-be-used-properly pick-up lines and pop-culture references. Though Y/N mostly beat him down, winning the unofficial contest. And she left Richie with his mind blank and mouth hanging open quite often. Bill, Eddie and Stanley had laughed at their friend. They were thankful to have found someone who makes the all-powerful Richie Tozier stutter and actually doubt his superiority in the comedy business.

He became quite fascinated with her, and he couldn't even hide his blush when she spoke to him. Though he did try to hide it, she still saw the pink tint coloring his squishy cheeks. And she had laughed, but to herself. She didn't want to embarrass the boy more than she already had. But it did make her feel a little powerful to be able to do so.

“Oh, no, now I get it.” She had said, and Richie had looked at her. For some reason, he thought she'd have a genuine statement to make. “You're auditioning for the red dress in the play.” She had concluded, and left Richie with his voice stuck in his throat.

“With a pale skin like yours, you'll do great as the white one!” He'd soon replied, which earned him a splash of Derry sewer water on his legs. The boy had only laughed and looked at the magnetic girl with wondering, wide eyes.

“I'll do great as a vampire.” Y/N had responded, and made a face that was supposed to mock the mentioned creature.

“And live off other people's blood? Disgusting, but enticing.” Richie makes an i'm-thinking face.

“I think blood is much more valuable than relying on them to always laugh at your jokes.” Y/N had admitted, and that earned her a splash of grey water on her legs. She'd squealed, but with a smile, and given an even bigger splash back to Richie. He'd gasped, almost covered in the liquid head to toe, and looked at Y/N.

“You're dead!” He'd screamed and pin-pointed the moment all hell broke loose. More specifically, he broke the hell right onto Y/N. An intense water duel had begun then, which no one except Richie and Y/N took part in, finding the activity more disgusting and unnecessary than standing by and watching would ever be.

Permanent tag-list:  @gabiatthedisco @v0idbella@inlovewithmiddleagedcelebs @works-of-fanfiction @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @stfxlou @ur-gunna-h8-ths @betweenloveandfire @but-legendsneverdie @deardeacy @thewinchesterchronicles @mavieesttriste16@mrsmazzello @benhardyseyes @langdonzvoid @intrrverted @the-freak-cassie-131 @eddie-spaghetti-boi @radiantrichie​ @terratori812 @urban-dreams​

[secretsofthedarkestkind-arch]

Part 2 of the episode 1 ramble. Triggers marked. Again who wants to be tagged for this?

Part One

word count: 1,707

@storieswrittcn​ (about to see why I said Kat would possibly want to kill Caroline for other than canon reasons)​

Lee sat in an uncomfortable plastic chair at a desk listening to another boring teacher ramble on about the history of Virginia. She wanted to bang her head against her desktop. She didn’t need this lecture. She had lived through the 1860’s here, Lee remembered it too well. But hearing about it made her miss Katherine even more. She remembered how the state divided in 1863, it had made the then teenager worry if she’d be able to leave to see her aunt--to see her lover. 

Lee shifted in her seat, setting her pen down as she fished her phone out of her jean pocket--downside to skinny jeans. She glanced at the teacher before unlocking her phone.

Text [To My Heart]: Want a recap of Virginia history? No. Me either but here I sit.

Text [To My Heart]: You owe me for this

Lee looked up just in time to see the doppelganger and her brother making eye contact, only for the girl to look away with a wide smile. Stefan though didn’t truly look away. She sensed the eyes of another on her brother, it was some jock. He looked between the two. Jealous much?

Text [To My Heart:] I’m watching a train wreck. 

She pocketed her phone for now. The teen got a text herself and then almost preened for Stefan. A train wreck indeed. 

-----

After school Stefan and Lee walked out to her car, she leaned against the hood. “Is she really worth this?” She nodded toward the school.

“Yeah,” He told her but he was distracted, his eyes searching the students as they left. Lee rolled her eyes for what felt like the hundredth time since she’d been back. 

“She’s walking,” Lee tells him. Stefan’s head snaps toward her. “That way,” She slyly pointed at the doppelgangers back as she left the school property. “Go. Stalk. Let me know if you need me. I’m going to find something to do--then I guess do homework for the first time in about twenty years.” She was not looking forward to that at all. 

“Twenty years?” Stefan asked though his eyes were on the girl’s retreating form.

“Yale 1980’s.” Lee confesses, her brothers really don’t know much about her life. “Just go and be that creepy guy.” She pushes his shoulder, Stefan nods and heads off. Lee slides into the car and starts it up. “Where to go and what to do?” She says to herself. Backing out of the parking spot, she pulls away and decides to drive aimlessly for a while.

-----

Lee sat at the Mystic Grill-- How original. She leaned back in her chair, popping another fry in her mouth as she watched everyone. Her sketchbook opened on the table a safe distance from the grease of the basket of fries, her phone right beside it. A conversation made her head tilt just slightly and look for the owner of the voice.

“His name is Stefan Salvatore.” Eyes landed on the blonde from that morning who’d look like she could eat both Salvatore’s up walking with the young Bennett witch. How much do you know? “Her name is Lee. They live with their uncle up at the old Salvatore boarding house.” Information easily gotten, what else do you know? 

“They haven’t lived here since they were kids.” Lee’s brow scrunched. Where did she get this? “Military family, so they moved around a lot. They’re both Gemini. His favorite color is blue and hers is green.” Wrong, I’m the Gemini. Stef is a Scorpio.

“You got all of that in one day?” The teen witch asked skeptically. Lee sat up straighter in her chair, having to agree with the Bennett. That was a little obsessive. 

“Oh please, I got all of that between third and fourth period.” Lee had to shake her head and laugh. Teenage girls, man. She picked up her soda to take a drink, “We’re planning a June wedding.” The blonde continued and Lee had to clear her throat so she didn’t choke. That we better be you and Stefan because if not…

The blonde moved to walk away and the young witch watching her go with a face that matched Lee’s disbelief.

Text [To My Heart:] So there’s a chance I’m having a June wedding I knew nothing about.

-----

Text [From Saint Stef:] Headed somewhere with Elena to meet a friend. Where are you?

Text [To Saint Stef:] Where you are probably headed.

Text [From Saint Stef:] What?

Text [To Saint Stef:] Teen hangout. Wanted fries. I’ll see you.

Lee set her phone down, eyes moving to around to the ones she assumed were Elena’s friends. In her mind she made note of everything, one day it would be important.

Not even ten minutes later Stefan and Elena walked in. Lee watched everyone’s reactions. 

Innocent curiosity

Jealousy

Surprise

As Matt approached them, Lee flipped her sketchbook closed quickly and stood up to move to her brother’s side. This could go one of a few ways. Stefan signaled her with the slightest movement of his fingers not to interfere yet. She wouldn’t, instead she just stood beside him. “Hey, I’m Matt, nice to meet you.” The blonde offered his hand. Stefan took it.

“Hi. Stefan.” The two shook hands, one with forced politeness and the other without a clue to the other feelings. Lee wondered where this conversation was supposed to be going. 

Matt looked over to Elena, who gave him a hopeful smile, “Hey.” 

Matt did not look impressed but he still remained polite, “Hey.”

After that somehow Lee found herself sitting at a table with her brother, Elena, the Bennett witch Bonnie, and the obsessive blonde Caroline. Her phone was tucked away in her pocket and her sketchbook back in her satchel, leather jack across the back of her chair She really just wanted out of this conversation but when the group decided to sit, Elena had invited her and Stefan agreed. “So,” Caroline starts looking between the two, “you were born in Mystic Falls?”

“Yeah.”

“Mm-hmm.” The Salvatore siblings look at each other, Lee chuckles motioning for her brother to continue. The chuckle has Bonnie and Caroline both smiling. “And we moved away, when we were still young.” Not exactly a lie, Lee figures. 

“Are you two twins?”

“Noooo.” Lee takes a drink of her soda, “Stefan is older.”

“Not by much.” He adds. Oh what webs have you woven, older brother?

“Right, because we’re all in the same class.”

“Parents?” Bonnie asks. The smile on Lee’s lips disappears, her parents--her father-- was not something she liked to think about. Little did she know her reaction would feed into what Stefan was going to say next.

Stefan clears his throat, “Our parents passed away.” Stefan’s gaze turns to Elena.

“I’m sorry.” Her words are so genuine and Lee wants to smack Stefan for doing this. Elena’s pain is fresh. Theirs is one that’s over a century old. It’s wrong and a low blow. A misguided way of getting closer to the girl. Even as twisted as Lee is, she wouldn’t have played the girls feelings of grief like that unless it was completely necessary. But maybe to Stefan it is.“Any siblings, I mean other than of course you both?”

Lee is about to say yes, but Stefan is quicker almost like he was expecting this question next. “None that I talk to.” Not a no, not a lie, smooth. Lee can’t remember the last time she truly talked to Damon. There wasn’t really a reason too, he was almost as dark as she was. Not that either brother knew that. Of course, she knew where he was. A habit Katherine had, one Lee realized wasn’t out of romantic interest but out of necessity--one day they were going to need them both and that day was closer than the two Salvatore men realized. “We uh live with our uncle.” His focus is still solely on Elena. 

Something Caroline didn’t seem thrilled with. So the we was for Stefan. “So Lee,” Caroline’s eyes went to Lee. The brunette could see her calculating how to do this. She’s about to be used as a pawn. A move she might just play along with. As she had that morning, her thumb subconsciously plays with her daylight ring under the table. The metal feeling like it’s almost burning her skin. It’s in her mind but it’s a reminder of where her heart belongs. It’s just a game though right? A dangerous one if she decides to play. This girl is innocent and Lee knows what Katherine will do if she finds out. An old conversation surfaces in her mind.

“What would you feel if you saw me accepting the attention of another, Katerina? Not denying them but encouraging their actions.”

“I would kill them.”

And she had, so many times over the last 145 years. 

“If you’re new ,” Caroline continued. Lee came back to the present and Stefan’s attention had been caught, he was now watching the blonde, “then you don’t know about the party tomorrow.” Caroline’s eyes are flirtatious as is the smile on her lips. Lee’s about to make a comment to shoo the attention away from herself when Bonnie explains.

“It’s a back to school thing at the falls.” She looks between the two siblings. 

“Right.” Lee mutters, eyes never leaving Caroline’s. “I think you meant to ask Stefan…” The words aren’t cruel or harsh. Just a way to let the blonde know she’s not going to be a pawn. Not at the risk of her life, not when it isn’t a game played between her and Katherine.

Stefan raises a brow at his sister and Caroline seems a little flustered but covers it easily enough. “I mean…”

“You’re both invited,” Bonnie saves her.

Stefan looks to Elena and Lee fails to not roll her eyes. “Are you going?”

“Of course she is,” Bonnie smiles, all too happy to play wing-woman. Elena breaks eye contact to look at the witch, a smile on her lips. She turns almost shy, tucking hair behind her ear. 

Lee glances back to Caroline, for a brief second she can see the blonde’s mask fall. The heart that usually only shows genuine kindness for one person cracks from its shell. There’s pain in the teen’s eyes, pain that at one point in life Lee knew all too well. That’s what forces the next words out of her mouth, “I’ll go.” She gives Caroline one of her cocky smirks. It’s a moment of weakness and one she’ll have to explain later. She can only offer Caroline friendship, but hopefully that will be enough.

[redcrossroads]

With You I'll Stay As You Allow Me To Remain

Summary: Mana’s suffering from nightmares. Allen decides to do something about it because the man’s misery is contagious.

Nightmares are a common occurrence. A constant companion of Mana’s much like Red—Allen, he’s Allen now, he reminds himself, hoping it will stick soon—himself is. Every other night ends up with Mana whimpering and crying. Stricken beyond belief from something that isn’t even real or at least nothing but a mere memory.

It pisses Allen off.

Like a bad reminder of the time he spent in that hellhole of a circus, he finds himself scowling and frowning more often as days pass. He recalls going out at night to catch the man sitting by himself in the cold, curled into a ball so small and full of misery even Red couldn’t help the tug of pity inside his chest.

Unlike then, he can’t justify ignoring the obvious anguish of the man with the excuse of him being a stranger.

As convenient as it would have been to be in denial, Allen isn’t a liar, no matter what that Bastard Cosimo insisted upon, so there’s no point in denying the inevitable. Seeing Mana upset makes his insides twist into a tangled heap which makes him lose all appetite.

Allen loved eating more than anything, yet remembering Mana’s shaking, the wideness of his eyes, the haunted expression on his white face turns his stomach inside out and he finds the thought of eating whatever they decided to eat on that day revolting.

He blames it all on Mana’s weirdness. The way he smiles like a lunatic most days, trying to think of new tricks to practice and babbling on about things Allen pretends to listen to even if he understands nothing of what is said. How he would try to keep his hold on Allen’s hand, ignoring the bristling and the curses while swinging their joined hands with the joy of a kid on Christmas morning. It was all so irritating, Mana’s patience, the kind words he had to spare for everybody. But the man took him in despite the rough edges and foul language he so dislikes and Allen still finds it hard to believe he’d gotten to tag along at all, much less to find the man trying to take care of him.

So, it’s unacceptable for Mana to be sad and try to hide it when Allen can do something about it.

“You can’t stay up all night long, Allen!”

“Watch me.” Allen says with a snarl, because even half blind, the dark circles underneath Mana’s eyes would have been visible like bright bold letters written across his forehead. Not a stranger of exhaustion, Allen doubts he’s ever felt tired like Mana had these past few days.

“It’s not healthy.” Mana chides, voice soft and in the dim-light of their fire, he looks so old. Wrinkles prominent in his face, lips pursed into a weak parody of a half-assed smile, he looks into the fire with unseeing eyes.

“It’s not like I could sleep with all the ruckus ya make while yer sleep.”

Allen wrinkles his nose, giving the man a dirty look as he crosses one arm over his chest. Mana blinks, startled if the sudden alertness of his gaze means anything and he actually turns to look at Allen now, instead of dozing off inside that head of his.

“Pardon?”

“Don’t act all innocent,” Allen glares, because the ache in his chest burns when he thinks back to the tremors wrecking Mana’s body in the night and how long it had taken him to calm down after shaking him awake. He’s no fan of waking up to terrified screams.

“You’re havin’ trouble sleeping. With all your turning and yelling it’s not like I can sleep either, so I might as well be useful if I have to stay up all night.”

He expects Mana to brush the issues off with a joke, to say it’s no problem, silly Allen, he’s being harassed by bed bugs lately, he has no reason to worry but it’s cute he does in that cooing voice of his, which never fails to make Allen flush to the shade of his hair as he hurls one insult after another at the man for daring to embarrass him.

The reaction he anticipates isn’t the one he gets.

Mana laughs, a sudden sound full of amusement and warmth, and it makes the shadows disappear on his face like sunlight chasing away rainy clouds. Shoulders shaking and eyes twinkling as his lips quirk up Allen gapes for a moment, speechless at the turns of events before he explodes.

“What the hell is so funny, stupid Clown!? Are ya laughing at me?”

Jaw and fist clenching as his heart sinks to the bottom of his ribs, heavy as lead and dropping like a stone, he glowers at the man sitting opposite to him.

Stupid! So, stupid. I should’ve known caring would bring me nothing.

“Stop laughing! It ain’t funny!”

He’s ready to throw a rock at the man, when he stops and gets his chuckling under control. Mana directs a soft gaze at him and the smile spreading across his face is genuine and gentle.

The suffocating rage crawling up his neck fizzles out like a matchstick fire in the downpouring rain, leaving behind the smell of burnt wood and smoke drifting off into the air. Wavering in the face of such a loving expression, Allen twists his face into a scowl, kicking out at the burning wood of their fire place.

“I wasn’t laughing at you, Allen.”

“Huh uh.” Giving the man the cold shoulder, he mourns the absence of a stick for poking the flames.

“But I wasn’t!”

Mana insists and Allen may be stubborn, but Mana’s persistence combined with his begging was on a whole other level of thick-headedness. Knowing when to cut his losses, but still sulking Allen squints at the man from beneath his bangs.

Seeing he’s caught Allen’s attention, Mana perks up on his seat, arms resting on his knees, he leans forward, his face gaining a healthy dose of color from the glow of the fire. It brings out the gold in his eyes, another one of Mana’s odd features, and instead of shrinking away from the tall figure looming over him or pushing out his shoulders to seem bigger, Allen sighs, raising a brow to complete his picture of a reluctant listener and leans back.

“What?”

He asks, when the silence continues to drag on. Mana’s habit of staring isn’t as creepy as it used to be but still unusual enough to make him squirm and dig his heels into the floor.

“Nothing! It’s just…I’m happy you care so much.”

Continuing, like Allen isn’t spluttering on his protests, Mana hums, eyes crinkling at the corners as he slaps a hand over his heart.

“Allen used to snap at me quite a lot, always so mean and grouchy, but now you’re being so kind to me, worrying over me it truly warms my heart! I’m so happy I could cry.”

“Don’t even start with that!”

Allen makes a face, because Mana’s dramatic antics are a sign, he’s feeling better, but it’s late and having to deal with them when he knows there’s a good chance Mana could be crying later sets his nerves on edge.

“Listen, if I stay up, I can wake you if you start getting uncomfortable sleeping. There’s not much else I can do to get you to sleep better.”

Mana gives the idea some thought, scratching at his chin and Allen knows from the gesture alone, the man is only doing it to humor him. He ends up being right when Mana shakes his head.

“Thank you for your kind offer, but I couldn’t possible accept this generosity my boy. If you watch over me while I sleep, you’ll not get the sleep you need to grow.”

Oh, bloody hell—

“Well, what am I supposed to do then!? Either you sleep or I won’t.”

He regrets those words leaving his mouth as soon as they’re out because Mana snaps his fingers, grin stretching from ear to ear like he’s got the best idea and Allen knows from last time, the next thing Mana will suggest is going to be utter nonsense.

He’s still holding a grudge over the man forcing him into that stupid clown costume and forcing him onto the walking globe for a show. Falling from that height had hurt.

“Allen could sing me a lullaby!”

“No way.” Short and merciless, he rejects the idea without batting an eye. Not to mention there might be a chance he’ll end up crying if Mana gets him to hum that familiar melody, he’d taught him. Which would happen over Allen’s dead body.

Head falling at the harsh refusal Mana sighs. “I guess you’re still too shy, but we’ll work on that. I’m afraid then there’s nothing you can do.”

Bullshit. Allen thinks, but doesn’t say. There must be something he can do! If he has to take another day of Mana clinging to his blanket like a scared child afraid of the horrors of the dark, he’ll end up pulling out all his hair or he’ll starve to death at this rate.

He’s come too far to give up, so he tries to come up with a way to get Mana to sleep.

Absently rubbing at his eyes, he watches Mana put out the fire to get them ready for their beds. They’re camping inside an abandoned run-down house which is more of a ruin than an actual house with the half-broken roof, but it shields them from the cold and keeps what little warmth they manage to create inside long enough for them to fall asleep comfortably.

Throwing the man, who rolls out their sleeping matts with care a glance, Allen chews on his bottom lip.

“It’s time for bed, Allen~.”

“Alright, stop nagging me already.”

Standing up, Allen kicks of his shoes and pulls off his jacket. The rustling of clothing tells him Mana’s doing the same, of course, neater and actually folding his clothes to put them aside. Risking another glance between his sleeping matt and Mana’s, Allen comes to a decision.

Oh, to hell with this.

Reaching down to lift his sleeping matt, he drags it over to Mana’s, dumping it right beside him before getting his blanket. The stare drilling into his skull is uncomfortable and makes his ears burn. Sitting down on his matt to arrange his blanket, he pulls it up to his shoulder and rolls onto his side, daring the man to comment with a sharp look thrown over his shoulder, he waits for Mana to settle down next to him.

“Isn’t this a nice surprise—”

“Don’t make this weird!”

Allen bursts out as Mana lays down next to him, his shoulder and side brushing against Allen’s back and he knows he’ll regret this in the morning because Mana seems like a person who cuddles like a leech but if this gets him a night of undisturbed sleep it’s going to be worth the mortification. Trying to relax now that Mana’s laying down next to him, knowing he wouldn’t have been sent away hadn’t put a rest to the feeling of anxiety crawling up his spine, Allen closes his eyes and tries to fall asleep.

“If you roll on top of me, I’ll suffocate ya with a pillow.”

“Of course,” Mana’s hushed voice is soothing in the night. The smell of burnt wood, smoke and paint helping him get comfortable in the chilly room. The heat the man emits like a furnace helps to keep himself warm and cozy. “Sweet dreams, Allen.”

“Night.” He mumbles, feeling the edges of sleep drawing him in. He hears Mana’s steady breathing, feels the phantom caress of a hand stroking his hair and the gentle hum of a melody and lets himself fall into embrace of sleep.

The next morning, he wakes up to Mana’s quiet snoring, an arm thrown over his waist resting on his back with his cheek pressed to the man’s clothed chest, his head carefully tugged underneath the man’s chin. It’s a lose but comfortable embrace Allen hesitates to pull himself out of. He decides to let Mana sleep a few extra minutes and denies any snuggling having taken place with vigor.

Mana’s nightmares don’t stop, but they do lessen, so Allen keeps their sleeping arrangement and is thankful for what rest Mana manages to get during the night.

At least, he can enjoy his food again, now that Mana’s nightmares have become manageable.

[calligraphist-artemisia]

The Annual Summer Hike

Summary: My entry for Kidgezine: Roads Untraveled.  Modern AU. When faced with spending her summer at her grandparents house way out in the country, Katie Holt decides to tag along with her brother and his best friend on their yearly hiking trip along a mountain trail instead, where she meets an interesting stranger and his dog. They all end up travelling together and by the end of their journey, Katie can't help but hope for something more.

*shows up 15 minutes late with Starbucks* I finally have a free moment to post this! And with the announcement of a second Kidgezine, I feel like my timing is perfect.

Edit 9/5/19: Because I’m a dumb and I forgot, go check out @luce-ciel​‘s amazing art that goes with this! 

Also posted on AO3 and fanfiction.net (under the username kishirokitsune)

-------

The Annual Summer Hike

If Katie Holt was asked to make a list of her top five least favorite summer vacations, that summer would be ranked number one.

Everything about it had gone wrong from the start. Her parents were going overseas for their anniversary and, even though she was eighteen, they didn’t feel comfortable with leaving her on her own for a month. Normally, that meant staying with her brother, Matt, in the apartment he shared with his best friend, Shiro, but the two of them were leaving for their annual hike along Lionrock Trail.

That left Katie with two options: either join them on their hike, or spend a month at her grandparents’ house with zero access to the technology and tools she needed to work on her summer projects.

She chose the hike.

Katie grumbled to herself as she made herself comfortable at a picnic table at the first campground of their journey. Three days in and she was already done with nature and walking and the humidity and the outdoors in general. Her shower made her feel a little better as her hair hung in damp waves past her shoulders, keeping her cool even as it rapidly dried under the evening sun.

Her laptop was freshly recharged and she had a few hours of precious time to get some coding done, so she dove right into it, zoning out as her fingers flew over the keys. She barely blinked. Everything around her faded out and for a moment she could forget that she wasn’t at home in her room.

A wet nose nudged at her arm and, out of habit, Katie lifted it up to allow her dog the attention she wanted. It was only when a larger and much heavier weight settled onto her lap that she remembered where she was.

Katie blinked down at black and gray fur, which was partially covered by a vest with many pockets, unsure of how to react to an unfamiliar dog making themself very comfortable on her lap. “Um, hi?”

The dog happily wiggled, turning their head to lick at her face and whine for attention.

“Aww, you're cute,” Katie giggled. She had no problem gently running her hands through thick fur once the licking stopped. A collar and tags jingled around the dog’s neck and she tried to turn it around for a better look at what it said, assuming there would be a name or phone number.

“Kosmo!”

The dog - apparently named Kosmo - woofed softly at the sound of his name and clumsily got out of her lap.

Katie turned to follow his path, which led to a young man with shaggy black hair. As she watched, he crouched down next to Kosmo, quietly scolding him for being rude and scaring people, to which Kosmo simply wagged his tail and tried to lick his face. 

The man laughed and stood up, his expression sobering as he looked at Katie. “Hey, uh, I’m sorry about him.”

Katie shook her head. “Oh no, it’s fine. He’s sweet.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

Katie reassured him a second time before he seemed content that Kosmo hadn’t gotten into too much trouble. The man gave her a hesitant smile and then patted his thigh, calling Kosmo to walk away with him. 

Katie watched them go, breathing a sigh of relief once they were both out of sight. 

That had been one of the most awkward conversations she had been a part of in some time, but at least it didn’t last more than a few seconds. She turned back to her laptop, ready to dive back into her work, but found herself unable to get back into the groove of things. Her mind kept wandering away, back to the handsome stranger and his friendly dog.

Katie paused, her fingers hovering over the keys. Her brow furrowed as she tried to comprehend where her thought process had gone.

Handsome?

“Get it together, Katie,” she mumbled to herself. “It’s not like you’ll ever see him again.”

After that, she managed to get a little more work done before packing everything up and heading back to where Matt and Shiro had set up camp for the night. As she approached, she became aware of a third figure sitting with them.

“Katie, come meet Keith!” Shiro lifted his hand to wave her over.

So much for never seeing him again.

Because of course Shiro and Matt knew who he was. Of course they decided that inviting him to join them on their hike was the best idea ever. Of course they thought the fact that they’d just met just a while before thanks to Kosmo was the funniest thing ever.

Katie snuck glances at him throughout dinner, trying to act like she wasn’t interested in the conversation he was having with Shiro. She couldn’t help but be curious about what he was like, especially if they were going to be traveling together. At the same time, she knew she had a horrible poker face and if she let herself get swept away in the thoughts about how attractive he was, Matt and Shiro would pick up on it for sure and then there would be no end to the teasing. So she would sit back and observe. That was it.

Her resolve lasted throughout the night and most of the next morning, but crumbled by that afternoon when Keith fell into step next to her.

“So what kind of dog is he anyway? A husky?” Katie asked.

Keith shrugged as they both looked at Kosmo, who sniffed along the edge of the path. “My mom thinks he may be part shepherd, but we don’t know for sure. I found him on this trail two years ago and we’ve been inseparable ever since.”

Katie smiled as Kosmo padded over to her. She reached down to pat him on the head. “We have a bull terrier at home. She’s a little older now, but you wouldn’t think that if you knew her. She’s a bundle of energy.”

“The terror of the neighborhood,” Matt jokingly called back to them.

Shiro shushed him, but the damage had been done. Katie stared down at the ground, reminding herself that it was a bad idea. 

It wasn’t the last time something like that would happen. Keith was surprisingly persistent about striking up a conversation with her, and if Katie was being honest, she liked that. He was easy to talk to and seemed genuinely interested in what she had to say, which only served to make him that much more attractive in her eyes.

She caught herself staring at him more than she liked. And by the knowing grin Matt threw her way, she knew he’d figured it out too. She had to make a choice; either deliberately distance herself more than she already was, or not let her rapidly developing crush keep her from making a new friend.

It took her several hours, but by the time she made a decision, Kosmo had already taken matters into his own paws. He’d wound circles around them as they hiked along the trail, guiding them closer and closer together until they were side-by-side, so close that their hands brushed together.

Katie was so startled the first time that she stumbled and would have fallen if not for Keith’s swift reaction.

“Th-thank you,” she whispered, feeling her cheeks burn from embarrassment. His hand felt so warm against her skin as he held her steady. It was nice.

Kosmo wagged his tail as they started walking again, still close enough that they could touch. And it was like a spell had been broken. Everything that had held her back before - all of those insignificant, silly reasons - became a distant memory. If Keith was surprised by her sudden desire to talk to him without trying to pass the conversation over to Shiro, he didn’t show it.

Night fell swiftly, but for once Katie found herself unbothered by the darkness of the forest around them. The fire crackled several feet away, where Shiro and Matt were roasting marshmallows on some long sticks they found, but she and Keith were huddled together, despite the warmth in the air. They shared a pad of paper between them, playing games of tic-tac-toe to pass the time.

“Where did Kosmo go?” Katie asked without looking up.

Keith refused to be distracted. “Nearby, probably.”

As if summoned by his name, Kosmo chose that moment to crash through the underbrush, proudly lugging a large tree branch, which he attempted to deposit on Keith’s lap. Katie laughed so hard that she nearly fell over, earning herself eager licks all over her face from Kosmo, who took her reaction as praise.

The hike that once seemed to feel as though it would drag out forever began to pass quickly thanks to her blossoming friendship with Keith. Every day brought a new experience; a new memory.

“Wow,” Katie breathed, staring out over the peaks of the tranquil mountain range. She leaned against the guard rail on the overlook, content to just watch as the fog began to clear from the valley below and the sun started to rise over the mountain. 

“I thought you said you didn’t like nature. You seem to be enjoying yourself.”

To her credit, Katie didn’t flinch as Keith approached. For once, Kosmo was nowhere to be found, probably because he was too busy begging Matt for food.

“Maybe I’ve gained a new appreciation for it,” Katie said.

Keith hummed as he joined her against the guard rail. “I’ve always loved it up here. My dad used to bring me every year and we’d spend time camping. He always wanted to stay longer, but his job didn’t really allow it.”

“What did he do?” Katie asked, finally turning to look at him.

“He was a firefighter. Summer… summer was always a busy time for him, but he made a point to bring me out here anyway. I wish I’d told him how much that meant to me.”

Past tense. Katie’s heart constricted. She didn’t need to ask the reason for that. “I’m sure he knew,” she said gently. “That’s why he came out here with you.”

Keith didn’t say anything else for a long time. He barely even moved when Kosmo padded over to join them, pressing his body against him. It wasn’t until the sun had fully risen over the mountaintops that he pushed away from the rail and held out a hand to Katie. “Ready to go back?”

Katie smiled as she accepted his hand. “I’m ready.”

The days blurred together and it felt as though one minute she was standing at the overlook, listening to Keith talk about his father, and the next they were laughing over Kosmo’s antics, whether the dog was splashing through a river and ignoring all attempts to get him out, or chasing around the local wildlife.

A particularly memorable occasion had them stopping to remove the vest-like backpack that Kosmo wore, in order to properly dry it out and make sure the treats tucked away in the pockets hadn’t gotten too soaked during his adventure.

“You’re a menace,” Keith told his dog, his voice warm with affection.

Before she knew it, that fated final day had arrived.

Cold dread settled in Katie’s chest from the moment she woke that morning. It was the last day she’d get to travel with Keith. The last day she’d get to spend time with him. And though she tried her best to not let it drag her down as they walked, everyone was affected by her melancholy mood. 

She tried to talk. To stay upbeat, but not even Kosmo’s usual antics were enough to cheer her up. To make matters more difficult, Keith had gone quieter than usual.

It wasn’t how she wanted things to end.

The hours passed too quickly and before she knew it, she could hear cars running along a main road. 

Their journey was over.

There was Allura, waiting next to her blue sedan to pick them up. Shiro and Matt went ahead to greet her and start loading up their gear, while Katie lagged behind with Keith and Kosmo, but it wasn’t long before Kosmo barked and ran off to greet another person, his entire body wiggling in joy as he approached a woman who bore a strong resemblance to Keith.

“I guess this is it,” Katie said, her throat tight. She refused to cry. She wouldn’t.

“Katie, wait.”

Katie froze. Keith had reached out to take her hand, gentle enough that if she wanted to pull away, she could easily do so. She turned to face him, unsure of what he was going to say.

“I, um… I was wondering…” He paused to take a breath. “Do you want to get coffee? With me?”

“Coffee?” Katie repeated, not sure she was hearing correctly. The way he’d phrased it, it almost sounded like he was asking her on a date.

“I’ve heard good things about Juniberry’s.” Keith sounded nervous as he kept talking. “Unless you don’t like coffee. We could go someplace else. Sal’s? No, wait, not there. Um…”

He was asking her on a date. 

Katie’s heart skipped a beat at the realization. “I’d love coffee,” she told him, interrupting his rambling. “Juniberry’s sounds perfect.”

Keith looked relieved. “Is Tuesday okay?”

“Nine o’clock?” Katie asked in return, unable to stop a broad smile from spreading across her face.

She had a date!

“Nine o’clock,” Keith agreed. He smiled at her in return before Kosmo ran back to them, barking, and breaking up their moment.

But just like that, the melancholic atmosphere evaporated. Katie no longer felt the dread that had been plaguing her all morning. Things were looking bright.

She couldn’t wait for Tuesday to arrive.

[timetravelingheart]

Consequences Chapter Three: A.M. Imagine

“And then,” Mitch had to stop to catch his breath from his laughter, “he spilled her own drink on her!” 

Auston sat, arms crossed, with a dark look across his features, while the guys who were supposed to be his best friends laughed like loons at his expense in his own living room. 

When the four fools finally caught their breaths and their laughter subsided, they turned to their now stewing friend who looked like steam could start coming out of his ears at any point. 

“Are you guys done?” he spat. The four guys - Mitch, William, Kasperi, and Morgan - tried to keep straight faces before tumbling into fits of laughter once again. 

Only Mitch had seen the little exchange between Auston and Tessa the previous night, so he felt it was only necessary to catch the rest of the guys up on the events. 

“Great, thanks guys, thanks so much,” Auston stood up and stomped into his kitchen to get another drink. “So fucking happy I get to call you guys my friends.”

“Man,” Willy started, wiping tears from his eyes, “how, and I say this with love, how did you manage to fuck up again?”

“Oh, oh, tell them about the ‘no’ is a full sentence part! That was golden,” Mitch started bouncing up and down, about to get to the second best part of the story. 

“Why don’t you tell it, you seem to know it so well?” Auston mumbled, grabbing waters from the fridge and tossing them fairly aggressively towards the vultures in his living room. 

“So, Matts asks her why she said no and she basically balks at why she even needed to give him a reason and says, ‘no’ is a full sentence and that she doesn’t owe him anything,” Mitch explained, still feeling such an odd sense of pride for a girl he barely knew. “Steph thought that part was amazing!”

Of course he told Steph, Auston thought. Nothing stays a secret in this team. 

“’No’ is a full sentence,” Morgan mused. “I love that. Fuck. I’m rooting for you man, but damn, good for her. What a woman.”

“That sounds like something my mom would say whenever my sisters said they felt guilty about turning a guy down who had a crush on them,” William added. “It’s such a good line.”

“So now what happens?” Kapanen asked, turning from his spot on the sofa to look at Auston who was still standing in the kitchen. “How did it all end?”

“I just asked for her to give me a chance and she said she’d think about it,” Auston shrugged, keen on downplaying his own anxieties and insecurities about what she meant by that. 

“Are you going to call her?” Morgan asked, genuinely curious. They liked to take the piss out of their friends, but they still rooted for them too. 

“He didn’t get it,” Mitch piped up as Auston hesitated. 

“What?” the other three exclaimed in unison. 

“How will you contact her?” William asked.

“She works for MLSE, right? So her office isn’t far away. I figured I would send her flowers in a couple of days,” Auston took a sip of his water as he sat back down. He was quite proud to have thought of that gesture. 

“And then what?” Mitch asked. 

“What do you mean and then what? I’ll send her the flowers, add my number to the card, and wait for her to call me.”

Auston was actually a little offended at the scoffs he heard come from each of his friends who were now staring back at him. 

“What?”

“You think you’re capable of calmly waiting for her to call you?” Morgan looked disbelieving. 

“I mean, how long does someone usually wait to thank someone after they send them flowers as a romantic gesture?” Auston shrugged, thinking his plan was foolproof.

__

His plan was not foolproof. In fact, his plan seemed to be absolutely full of holes, Auston couldn’t help but think as he moved aimlessly around his apartment, exactly 48 hours after he had sent the flowers. It turned out that Morgan was right - he was incapable of waiting calmly.��

And so, he did a thing he had been trying to talk himself out of for the past ten hours at least. He grabbed his car keys and drove himself over to her office where he figured she was probably working that afternoon. 

Desperate times.

He got into the building and onto her floor with ease, everyone obviously recognizing him and assuming he was there to discuss future events or volunteering opportunities. 

He took a couple of deep breaths before he knocked on the door with her nameplate. He waited until he heard a gentle, ‘come in’ from the other side. When he walked in, he saw a stressed-out looking Tessa standing at her desk and sorting what looked to be hundreds of papers. When she looked up at him, the look of surprise was evident and Auston immediately felt like he made a mistake. 

“Auston? What are you doing here? Is everything okay?”

He stepped forward, closing the door behind him. 

“Yeah, I just - I was just in the area and wanted to stop in to say hi,” he lied. He gestured to the papers on her desk. “It looks like maybe I caught you at a busy time?”

“Yeah, it would seem that way, wouldn’t it?” she bit sarcastically. At the hurt look that crossed his face, a wave of guilt moved through her. “I’m sorry. I’m stressed and I haven’t eaten yet. I get mean when I’m hungry.”

Auston laughed at that. 

“Hangry? I can go grab you lunch if you’d like? Or maybe you can take a break to regroup and we can get lunch together?”

“I don’t think so. I’m probably just going to Postmates something. I have too much to do for an event coming up.”

Before Auston could reply, her office phone rang. She held up a finger to tell him to wait while she took the call. He took this as an opportunity to look around her office. He saw photos of people he assumed to be family, as well as some of campers and other staff he recognized from Launchpad. He couldn’t help but feel slighted when he didn’t see the flowers anywhere, only to wonder if she brought them home, and if she did, where did she keep them? He was lost in his thoughts when he heard her clear her throat. 

“Looking for anything specific over there?” she teased, still a little tension in her voice and in her shoulders. 

“I was actually wondering where you keep the flowers I sent you,” he retorted. He watched as her face fell slightly. If he had learned anything about Tessa in their few interactions, it was that she was not good at hiding her emotions. At all. And if he was reading her correctly, the flowers did not have the desired effect he had wanted. 

“I took them home. Thank you for sending them, they were beautiful.”

“But?”

“But what?”

“Come on, Tess,” he pushed, using a nickname he had yet to hear anyone else call her, “most people would message or call the person who sent the flowers to thank them. I got radio silence from you.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. That was rude of me. I guess I just wasn’t sure what would come of us talking on the phone.”

“Well, I was hoping that I would be able to ask you out again. Not even as a date, but just a hang out.”

“With the hope of it eventually leading to a date?”

“Yes.”

“Auston -”

“Tess, I sent you the flowers because I like you and I think you deserve to have something beautiful. And yeah, I definitely wanted to send you something so that when you saw them you would think of me. But I also wanted to show you that I’m trying here for you. I’m in this, for you. I’m not just trying to get into your pants here.”

Tessa looked him over hesitantly as if she were searching for any visible signs that he was full of shit. When it didn’t seem like she found any, she let out a full body sigh and plopped into her desk chair. Auston took a seat across from her and waited patiently. It was her turn and he had to remember to give her time to reply before he word-vomited all over again. While you could read every emotion that crossed Tessa’s face, she was thoughtful with her words. Auston was almost the exact opposite. Years of media training helped him hide his reactions and emotions, but he often had to remind himself to think about his words carefully so he didn’t spew out the first thing that came to mind. 

So he waited patiently, biting his tongue, as he waited for her response. 

“Okay, here’s the thing,” she clasped her hands out in front of her, as if she were about to engage in some sort of negotiation and not just a conversation about a date. “You can’t send flowers to my office. And you can’t just show up unannounced to my office. It’s not appropriate.”

“Not app-”

“It’s just not. Do you know how hard it is to be a woman working in the sports industry? I don’t even have anything to do with anything you guys do on the ice and I still get questioned about it. I cannot under any circumstances have my position within this company be linked to you. I have worked too hard for too long to get this job and I absolutely love it. I’m not going to risk that just because you think you might be interested in me-”

“I know I’m-”

“When I first started volunteering for this organization, I was asked fairly regularly, both seriously and mockingly, if I was only doing it to meet a Maple Leaf or a Raptor or a Blue Jay or an athlete from whatever the fuck other male-dominated league or sport there is in this city.

And when I got a job here? Fuck, that was even worse. And now, not only am I asked if I want to date an athlete, I’m also asked if I can introduce some of you to the girls at school. 

THAT’S how people still view women who work even remotely close to a male-dominated sport. I work with children. I am here for the children. So if you come in here on a day when an event is not planned and you send me flowers, it starts to look like I’m that person people expect me to be. I become the stereotype. And I refuse to have that happen.”

Auston waited to make sure she was really finished before responding. He reached forward and wrapped his large hand around her clasped ones that had now gone white. At his touch, her fingers released and she let him hold her hands in his. 

“Tess, I’m sorry. I know I should know all of this, and I know it’s a cop-out, but it honestly never crossed my mind that anyone would think anything. I just wanted you to have my number so we could communicate. And I’m sorry that me being here makes you uncomfortable. I’m an idiot, okay?”

Tessa let out a little laugh and Auston’s heart twitched. 

“No, I’m overreacting a little. I do that sometimes,” she laughed, taking her hands back and running them through her hair. “I was just letting years of judgement cloud any appreciation I could have had for what was a very sweet gesture.”

“You think I’m sweet?” Auston grinned. 

“That’s not what I said.”

“You think I’m sweet!” he hummed, grinning even wider now. Tessa couldn’t help but grin back, dimples on full display. 

“I take it back. You are an idiot.” 

Auston just laughed and continued to beam at her. 

“Yeah, but I think you’re starting to warm up to me anyway, so what does that make you?”

“Also probably a bit of an idiot, but here we are. I really do have work to do so are we done here?” 

“There’s just one more piece of business first,” he stated formally. She looked at him with questioning eyes until he pulled his phone out of his pocket dramatically. He held it out to her. 

“If you give me what I came here for, and nothing more or less, I will leave in peace,” he stated, still formal, even more dramatic. 

She eyed him carefully. If she gave him her number, she knew she would likely walk right into this trap he was setting up and she was pretty certain he also knew it. 

And yet, for some reason, it still felt like the best decision she ever made when she reached for the phone and put in her number when she saw the way his eyes lit up, as if he were actually surprised his plan had worked. When she handed it back to him, she felt her own phone vibrate almost instantly. She looked down at the ID, seeing the name and number she had put into her phone two days ago despite her refusal to actually call it. She looked up at him, shaking her head and trying to hold back a laugh.

“Had to make sure you weren’t giving me a fake,” he winked at her as he stood up and made his way to the door. “Talk to you soon, Tess.”

When the door closed behind him, she dropped her head to her desk with a small thud. 

What was she getting herself into?