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shaarlslec · 2 years

Note

The “I can see that you are lonely, and I don’t know how to fix that.” Prompt with Charles pls

don't tell me to write charles only if you want long-ass drabbles, i cannot help myself; thank you so much for your request, let me know if you liked it; prompt list and masterlist here;

safety nets

short summary: in which you break-up with your boyfriend and charles tries to help in the aftermath;

words: 5658 & warnings: angst, depression, alcohol, arguing with charles;

The last couple of months have not treated you great – not even a bit, not even at all.

You broke up with your boyfriend of three years at the beginning of the year and tried to cope with living alone ever since in the apartment you two once shared for most of your relationship as you took the risky decision of moving in together three months into your relationship claiming that you were nothing but madly in love with the dude.

Wrong, you were so wrong. “In love” was not exactly what you were back then, infatuated with the hopes of what is about to come in an unrealistic scenario that you played in the back of your head, yes.

And yet, who does not have a screwed-up story about a relationship up the age of twenty-five?

Moving too fast together and thinking that you were the one to change the man’s toxic behaviors was yours. Now, you had to cope with your learnings that people do not change just because you put in the efforts to help them to do so, and that being madly infatuated with the idea of love was not as great as it has first seemed to you.

Moving back with your parents was not one of the options afterwards, as you were trying for the last five years to show them that you can be your independent little self without having to depend on their wealth and connections.

After the break-up you have tried to switch the narrative and to focus on your work instead of malicious habits, but working non-stop in the sales world in such a place as Monaco took a tool on you fast, and without you even noticing that all you were doing were meeting after meetings after meetings with pretentious customers that wanted the best real-estate assets with little money just to keep their names well-known and well-renowned, your mental state became heavily affected by the higher ambitions you had and all the pressure on your shoulders.

In between trying to make a name for yourself in the industry, keeping your mental and physical state in check as tight as you managed, being as out-going as you were once when your boyfriend played music in the clubs you two enjoyed spending countless nights at, you slowly yet surely lost your spark as the bubbly-loving-warm daughter, friend and lover that everyone around you knew and admired for her free-spirited personality.

Your laughs were all faked, your giggles barely heard within your group of friends, and your enthusiasm for life taken away by the fact that you found yourself in a place you were not yet so familiar with – utter and complete loneliness.

“I am fine, guys.” You nervously lied once one of your friends popped the question that you had heard all year being addressed to you, brushing the soft air of autumn with one of your hands that held a cigarette in between your fingers as you were taking a break outside the club during one of your “drinking until I pass out” weekends.

Those happened a lot lately as your newfound mechanism of coping after months of pretending to be fine in front of everyone, considering that alcohol at least made you funny to be around people – trying to get back at least one thing about you that you loved.

“You are sure, Y/N?” They continued, showing you the same worried eyes that you got from everybody lately and that you despised from without your soul, “Take it easy with the drinks, we barely arrived here.” They emphasized, pointing to the half-empty gin and tonic that you held in your other already shaky hand.

Oh, fuck off and let me be, you would have wanted to shout straight into their worried little blurred faces.

You were fine, completely fine. That was what you kept telling yourself not to go insane every single time when you watched the mirror and saw a completely far different person that the one you were during the same period last year when two shots would have been enough for you to get you tipsy and ready for bed in the arms of a man you thought was loving you back as much as you loved him.

Instead of letting your outrage shine bright, you just laughed it off with a silly huff as you threw the cigarette’s butt in the ashtray with a loud hit, “Come on, let’s go back in.” You added, already on your way to the door and down to the bar to get you another gin and tonic.

Your friends stood perplexed for a short while behind you, watching you getting through the crowd of people drunkenly so on your already stumbled feet, “Charles is back for good in three weeks, he will know what to do with that. That is if they met.” One of them told to the group in a soft tone, grabbing one of your shoulders not to accidentally spill your drink on one random stranger that was questionably looking at you, “Let’s get her home for now, I will let Charles know that the situation has not improved since the last time he asked about Y/N, Charles will not be happy about it.” They uttered to each other in mumbles for the words not to reach your ears, pulling you closer to the group amid your loud rejections of not wanting to go home so early in the night.

Your friends meant well – they really did, letting aside the critiques of your new-found drinking improved game. Besides your parents that you visited once or twice every other month since your break-up, they were your safety net in the absence of Charles.

No one was able to save you from your own personal hell that you have created, and no one was willing to go through the pits of that hell as much as Charles has done in the beginning of all that was happening with you, even though the man was not obliged to do so.

And yet, being your closest friend that knew you the best amongst the bunch – Charles took that duty upon himself and was not going to give up that easily no matter how much you resisted him. Your own personal safety net, always there to catch you.

That was what Charles has been to you since a long time ago, and what you liked to think you were for Charles too. Not just friends like you were all friends within the same group, but something much more than that. You knew him since you were children, your parents living nearby and always organizing brunches together and some other pretentious neighborhood events such as shiny parties, charities and all that jazz that all adults around you liked to attend to keep their network busy and growing while you were playing hide-and-seek with the Leclerc brothers.

At some point during high school years after your last serious hide-and-seek game, the parties had stopped and yet you and Charles were already tightly bonded for your meetings outside your houses to stop. You watched yourselves grow together being that much of a constant presence into the other’s life. Even when Charles got severe about the whole racing thing, and he was gone most of the times away from home, weekly calls were still on the table, and attending his races became a tradition as well as him attending most of your important life events such as graduation from college, getting your first pay-check, and getting your heart broken for the very first time – although Charles would have preferred to not be a witness to all the pain it caused you, troubling your mind in such a way that you even fought with Charles due to that.

Right after Charles found out that your boyfriend moved for good from your apartment, the man tried anything within his efforts to keep your mind busy with anything else but not the break-up. Charles was rarely home still as the season begun, but every single time he came back even for two or three days, Charles went out of his ways to plan something for you two to do with or without your other friends.

Movies, plays, camping, road-trips, finishing, laser-tag, dinners, breakfasts – Charles done everything for you to light up a little and to not feel empty and alone all the time. For most of the times, Charles succeeded at first. At least, that was what your best friend thought.

You were faking your smiles in front of Charles to as you did with many of the people back then, trying to enjoy the time you knew your friend planned just for the sake of his own good rather than yours – upsetting Charles was the last thing you wanted to do, yet another person about whom you cared and loved deeply pushed by your behavior was the last thing you intended. You went to whatever Charles booked you tickets for and attended all the mentioned above goings, trying not to upset Charles by not appreciating the man’s efforts, wanting to keep him close.

That was until the boiling point.

You needed time to get over what was happening and to clear your head on your own pace, and although being around Charles managed to ease the pain – you wanted nothing else right after the break-up rather than to be alone in a caged mind full of what you could have done differently, while Charles’ intentions were to break you completely out of that.

“You know what you are to Y/N, Charles?” One of your friends was brave and drunk enough once to ask him as they noticed the Monegasque glaring at you across the campfire during one of the times in which Charles booked an entire cabin somewhere far away from the city to get you spending time with your closest friends instead of locking yourself in your apartment as you often did when Charles was away racing, hopping that you will show up at one of his races this season – always having a pass ready for you.

Without taking his eyes out of you, Charles huffed a short “What exactly?”

“The boyfriend without the rewards.” They spoke, clicking yet another glass of liquor with Charles who now turned to look at his friend with an ironic side-eye, “Don’t look at me like that, man.” They loudly panted back before placing their lips on the edges of the glass and then pulled Charles close to him by one of his shoulders so they can make sure that you and your other friends next to them gathered around the fire were not hearing what it was spoken, “Everyone here knows that it is true – even you two.” They added with a short sigh and an arched eyebrow that questioned Charles on what he was going to do about that.

“Oh, shut up, asshole.” Charles commented while visibly rolling his eyes even in the dim light of the windy spring summer you were having aside of the cabin, “She just broke up with that dick of a boyfriend of hers, and you are out here talking about boyfriend rewards to me.” He then added, glare now on the one mocking him at his side rather than at you who were attentive enough at the orange sparks that light up the air rather than at the conversation across from them, “I know her since we were like ten – I cannot just stand by and watch her close herself. I am her friend, friends help each other.” Charles added with a loud sigh, knowing that has happened before in the past and knowing how hard it for you was to open again after feeling blue for larger periods of time, “I do not want any rewards.” Charles then stated, drinking part of the liquor in his glass as well before standing up to find a better seat rather than one in which he was questioned regarding his feelings for you.

Charles’ defensive mode that was just activated by your common friends’ statement was not random. He has been in love with you for years, long before you met your ex-boyfriend, and long before Charles had even realized that is how love was supposed to feel like. That aching yet calming throb of his chest when you glanced at him, and that twist in his stomach when you smiled into his direction. Charles felt them all, and yet there was never the right or enough time to confess them to you.

Racing has always been a priority for Charles to which he fully dedicated first and putting all his other feelings rather than the thirst for winning second, thinking that you will always be there next to him and that maybe, just maybe, you will be the one to make the first step when the right moment will come. Charles thought that you and he had enough time, and when you first told him about that little crush of yours three years ago, that was when he figured out that the assumptions was wrong – you were not willing enough to wait for him until he decides what to prioritize best.

Fast-forward three years and a couple of weeks later you were standing next to Charles still, but with a broken heart and with the idea that no one, not even him, will have access to your soul ever again. Charles went behind you, placing one of his hands on your right shoulder to tightly squeeze you, announcing that it was him behind to guard you from the wind and no one else – as you were not allowing any man to touch you since your break-up.

You looked up to him as your fingers pressed against Charles’ on your shoulder, “What?” You had asked, watching Charles’ eyes reflect the orange sparks of the fire as he was looking down at you with somewhat of a poignant smile and yet with warmness within the irises of the man’s eyes, “Has anything happened?”

Charles declined with a nod and then scooped in the chair next to you that was now emptied by one of your friends leaving, everyone knew that the one who could talk you out of your mood was Charles, “Just wanted to check on you.” He then smiled, taking both of your hands to warm in between his own.

Your heart sunk seeing how Charles blew hot air on them to make sure that you were all comfortable, and then it ached again when your friend refused to let them go back into your lap as Charles guarded them with his. You would have wished for him to do that sooner, three years and a couple of weeks sooner to be exact.

As complicated as Charles’ feelings were for you, so were yours.

You were in love with Charles too, or to be more specific you had been in love with him too in the past when you were able to feel something, anything at all. And yet, Charles was never home – not like you would have craved him to be.

You were not to blame him for that, you were very much very aware of how important racing was for him and you had done nothing but support him through all of it. Still, you would have secretly wished for him to carry a type of lifestyle that selfishly permitted you too to be more than just friends. You were way too needy in the beginning of your twenties and trying to make a move with someone who was barely home was none of your options.

You were in this constant need of attention, need that was fully satisfied by dicks who were from there and who were more than willing to spend every single minute of their day with you having no other things to do rather than drive you completely and utterly crazy over meaningless stupidest things.

Now that you had lived that kind of a burning love where all you did was fight and make-up, you were mentally kicking yourself in the joint for refusing a calm and soft love that you knew Charles has been always capable of giving you. You wanted that now, and yet you were not ready to open yourself again – not even in front of Charles.

“I am fine Charles,” You muttered as you glared away from him, millions of thoughts of what could have been pricing your mind, “I am not a child, you don’t have to check on me every five other minutes.” You added with a short roll of eyes, also letting the sarcasm within your bitter tone to go through Charles’ ears.

“Y/N, I know that you are not a child, and I am not trying to baby sit you I just –” Charles then spotted, your chair loudly being pushed back by you lifting from your seat as you snatched your hands from below Charles’ – that was the tenth time somebody asked you if you were fine that day alone.

You needed a break, a break that Charles was not willing to give it to you, “I want to sleep Charles.” You breathed, “Can I please go to sleep?” You inquired looking at Charles getting up too, “You don’t have to walk me, I am telling you for the second time – I am fine.” You sharply demanded with a nervous chuckle, and yet it was already too late to play pretend in front of Charles who had figured all your fake laughs and giggles.

Charles’ already walking up in front of you giving you a glance over his shoulder, challenging you to move and follow him to the cabin meaning that you two had to have a talk alone in between closed doors, leaving your other friends behind to watch the fire still burning up to the sky.

You huffed as the door to your room closed behind Charles, “Look, Charles – I love you,” You paused, both of your hands resting on the man’s chest as you were looking up at him, “I appreciate all the things you are doing for me, and all the things that you had done for me – I just need space and time for my own stuff now, that’s all.” You softly added, departing inches away from him only for your back to be blocked by one of Charles’ palms that sustained your body close to him.

“I love you too, Y/N.” He then spoke, “And that’s exactly why I cannot let you out of my sight for now.” Charles muttered with a heavy chest, “I know what you do to yourself once I am gone, they told me everything – the bars, the guys, the alcohol, the loads of work.” He added, voice shaking while his eyes were fixed on you, “You will break at some point, I know you will – you have done it before, and I cannot watch you do it again.” Charles continued, feeling your back tensing beneath the man’s touch, “I can see that you are lonely, and I don’t know how to fix that.” Charles then almost sobbed, eyes softened in a nostalgic type of a sadness that you have seen him looking at you with before.

You took a deep breath in, glancing away from the man who had eyes only for you. You took two steps back, forcing him to release you from the embrace. Taking your head in both of your hands, you ruffled your hair in nervousness as you spoke, “Why do you always think that you have to fix everything?” You answered back, “Am I that bad that I need to get fixed?” You inquired as you took as many steps as they were needed from Charles not to resist the urge of jumping straight into the man’s arms no matter how much you would have wanted for that mere touch to fix everything for you, “I am not some sort of a patient that you need to find remedies for Charles, and I have never asked you to do so in the first place.” You busted out with your voice cracking, “You don’t see how fucked up that is?” You inquired, tears slowly streaming down to your cheeks now.

Charles took two steps ahead, and you took two steps behind you, “I am here to help Y/N, I am not trying to get you fixed or to be a prescription to you. I cannot—”

“That’s the thing Charles.” You interrupted in between the sobs, “You are barely here.” You mumbled glancing once into the man’s direction, “You are away for most of the time, and I cannot just ask you to take care of me two days once in a blue moon when you are back home – that is not healthy for either of us.” You commented after a loud sigh, your cheeks burning and being washed by your fingers helplessly trying to wipe away the tears, “I need you to stop.” You ended, your fingers touching the edges of the widow’s sill for better stability unless you were about to break down completely.

Heart shattered – right there. Charles’ heart in million pieces. You were slipping in between his fingers again. There were many things that Charles could kept his promise for when it came to you, being there for you all the time was one of the things that he was not able to pledge to you and that caused him another type of hurt. You not being alright was something, you two not being alright was something else – something that cut deep, and something that he did not know how to mend for the better in that very moment, no matter how fast he was searching for the answers in the back of his mind.

“Don’t you talk to me about what’s healthy and what’s not.” Charles fought back, resting now his right shoulder on one of the room’s walls, “When you are the one who is using all the unhealthy ways of coping after breaking up with a fucking sore loser and rejecting all of the help from anyone who truly do love you back.” Charles uttered and there was a type of spite in the man’s tone and use of voice that you had never encountered before coming from him, “I will let you sleep.” Charles then spoke, watching you shockingly staring at him back, “We will talk about this tomorrow.” He then nodded, putting an even greater distance in between your bodies by completely leaving the room and silently shut the door behind him, leaning on the other side for a minute holding his breath at the top of his lungs before a long release of a sigh, maybe you were right and what you needed was space and time, Charles thought then.

Tomorrow’s talk never came as Charles got a call the first thing in the morning being announced that he had to switch for an earlier flight to Italy where he had to get ready for the Imola GP and you returned in the city with your other friends after yet another day when you spoke nothing but replayed the words of yesterday’s little clench. Pushing Charles away from you was the last thing that you wanted to do, but that was the right call in the moment – he had to focus on his races, while you had to focus on getting out of the vicious circle that you caught yourself into. After all, it was not Charles’ duty to get you out of trouble – you needed to fix that yourself.

You thought about apologizing days after you returned to the apartment after you watched Imola’s race, and yet Charles was not picking the phone after what had happened there for him and the team. As much as Charles knew you the best, you knew him too. Watching him spinning and losing points will cause him to not want to talk about right away with you or anyone else, and that gave you part of the same treatment you gave to Charles in the last couple of weeks.

You thought that will pass, and that Charles will undoubtedly so phone you when he calms down, and when everything goes back to the normal flow of things. And yet, from then on nothing was considered a normal flow of things for Charles. You texted from time to time, but neither of you were ready for a phone call or to meet in flash and bones, you both needed space and time to deal with your own personal things on your own instead of searching for your safety nets.

Time passed in this matter, and as much as you would have loved to not grow cold with Charles as much as you did with everyone else around you – it happened. Life got busy for the both of you, and days have passed without texts, calls or seeing each other. It was for the very first time in years when you two took a break from your friendship, and maybe that was exactly what was needed.

You found excuses not to see him when he was back in town, and you even booked a whole entire holiday away from Monaco during his summer break to clean your head from all the working that you have done since the last time you saw him. You were deliberately avoiding Charles, knowing that you two meeting in those fragile states of yours will only do both of you worse than good. And yet, you knew that you cannot avoid Charles for the rest of your lifetime, and neither of you wanted that to happen.

After the season ended, Charles was home for good for a couple of months that were enough to get his mind off a hell of a season that was, and that was when he found out that you were still out there having not-so-much a lovely time being alone just as you wished back after your break-up. Charles was not the type to give up, especially on you. You were given the space and time you needed from him, and now he was back to take what was his. That is when Charles ambushed you during one of the weekends when you decided to paint the town red with your friends, tagging along too without letting you or anyone know that he will be there.

Your eyes widened in surprise as you spotted him on the dance floor having the time of his life with a couple of girls, all of them wanting to impress him in all ways known: dancing, flirting, touching.

“Look who’s back.” One friend spoke, elbowing you as they were already ahead of you to greet Charles and join the group of girls.

“And in what a fashion.” The other friend laughed, giving you a glance over your shoulder as they joined too, Charles’ arms spread widely to welcome them in a hug.

“Oh fuck.” You muttered underneath your short breath, Charles’ eyes catching yours in an instant as the man’s attention was switched from the girls to his friends, and then to you – completely and utterly looking astonishing in your little black dress.

Charles came to you moments after as you stood there perplexed watching him approaching you. Your heart raced, and there was no point in trying to escape the man’s glare on you as he was passing through the crowed with two beers into his hands already to hand you one as a greet.

“You look great.” Charles spoke, opening one of the beers for you as he took a quick look at you from head to toes.

“Thanks.” You muttered, taking the beer from his hand to make it your first drink of the night, “You look drunk.” You commented, watching the man’s already ruffled hair and white unbuttoned shirt that you guessed it was not his doing but one of the girls he was dancing with earlier.

Charles’ eyes rolled in annoyance, “Oh come on now Y/N, don’t critique me on this matter – I have heard that you had loads of fun without me here.” He added, bottle on his lips now as he was head bumping on the played song’s rhythm that blasted your ears, “Have fun with me too, come on.” Charles spoke, grabbing you by one of your wrists so you could join the middle of the group too.

You shortly sighed, and yet you knew that Charles was right. You were in no right or position to tell him to stop drinking, you were the one who has been indulging in this type of behavior for the last couple of weekends. One single beer was enough for you that night to stop as your eyes were curiously searching for Charles each time that your friend left the group to go and fetch another drink for himself.

Charles was not the type to drink, and you knew this based on all the previous encounters you two had at a party or in a club, or even during casual dinners. Your friend was not the type to hold his alcohol, and Charles stumbling on his feet with one arm around a random girl’s neck while looking at you with lazy sleepy eyes and the start of a hiccup confirmed you once again what you had already known.

“It was such a fuckery – this season.” Charles drunkenly shouted when you were back to your booth surrounded by only your friends now and no random girls, “I want to forget all about that. So, cheers to that.” He then nodded before taking yet another shot down his throat, being accompanied by all your friends but you, “What’s going on Y/N, not in the mood for drinking tonight?” Charles teased with both eyebrows up and a sly grin, “Everybody in here told me that you are a big fan of it now.”

You leaned back into your chair with your arms crossed at your chest as you were eyeing him, “Someone has to be sober enough to take you home, Charles.” You replied, giving a sharp look afterwards to all your friends present at the table for spilling the beans to Charles about your recent behavior.

Charles laughed at your words, “So thoughtful of you, Y/N.” He then replied, chin rested on one of his palms now as he was looking at you with a slight tilt head, “Taking care of me, when you were the one to tell me to stop when I was trying to do the same.” He bittersweetly continued, cueing all your friends that it was time for them to leave you two alone at the booth – everyone knew that you had things to talk about, and none of you wanted to be in the middle of your fight.

“Charles I—” You began, but your words being cut short right away by one of his fingers waving “no” in the air in front of you after you two were left alone, everyone else suddenly wanting to dance again.

“Don’t “Charles” me with those eyes of yours, Y/N.” Your friend spoke next to you now as he switched seats so you could hear him better, “I have been nothing but a good friend to you, and all you did was pushing me away when you needed me the most.” Charles helplessly breathed, “And then again, when I needed you the most.” He then added, head resting on your shoulder as Charles’ eyes closed in the comfort of your body being again so close with his, “I have missed you.”

You closed your eyes too, one of your hands catching his into yours to squeeze it tightly as a sign of even more comfort, “I have missed you too, Charles.” You added after a short breath which Charles’ felt on his forehead, sending shivers down the man’s spine in an instant, “Let’s get you home, and we will talk all about it somewhere where we can actually hear the words.” You chuckled, cupping the man’s face into your hands for him to be attentive at you inches away from your face, “Let’s get it fixed together.” You added, getting the man’s hair out of his eyes with a short brush of fingers, “Whatever we both have to fix.” You laughed, thinking about the many things that has been going sideways in both of your lives lately and the methods in which you could help each other to mend them.

Charles nodded, but not before placing a short peak on the top of your lips as you two were too close for him not to resist the urge to do so as the man struggled to contest the need of your lips on him too many times in the past. You were taken aback by his sudden move, and yet so deeply happy that he was the one to make the first step.

"I don't want to be the boyfriend without the rewards anymore, Y/N." Charles muttered as you were confused by the words not making any sense to you, "I want all the rewards, love." Charles then mumbled, forehead glued on yours now, waiting for your lips to be back on his to confirm that indeed he will get all the rewards.

You chuckled, nuzzling your nose with him and putting yet another short peak on the man's lips, "You will get them all."

You took him out of the booth with one shoulder across your neck stabilizing the man’s unbalance due to the alcohol, guiding him in a cab and going home together that night with an understatement that everything was going to be alright for the both of you if you were together in this, accepting and returning the soft kisses, warm embraces, forehead kisses and strong clasps of hands.

#f1 x you #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 one shot #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #formula one x y/n #formula one x you #f1 fic #charles leclerc x y/n #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc angst #i don't really like this one as much #but let's roll with it #charles leclerc drabble #f1 drabble

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shelbgrey · 1 year

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Omg you're one of the few people that write about bones. Can i request a bones fic with witchy squintern reader i want to see the interactions between them especially angela and bones since they have different opinions on the whole spiritual thing and maybe wendell can be the love interest. You can ignore this if you don't feel comfortable writing it.

Witchy Squintern HCs

Paring: Witch!Reader x Wendell Bray x Angela Montenegro(best Friend)

Summary: headcanons about being a little bit different(in the best way possible) and working at the jeffersonian.

A/n: sorry this took so long and thst is short. I don't know much other than Harry Potter and vampire diaries' witches, so it's gonna be based off that sorta

MasterList

I think you being a witch helps you think outside the box while working, it also helps you read the Bones better.

You often try and connect with the sprit of the victim, you feel it helps you find the killer and better understand the victim and their pain.

With your interest in the spirit of the victim your often cought talking to the Bones, the other squints find it weird and unsettling especially when you start to space out. Wendell and Fisher are the only ones that don't find it weird.

You are also very much respectful of the victims soul, this cause many debets between you and Bones. She has mentioned time and time again she doesn't believe in souls. You don't take it personal.

“tomato, tamto, Dr. B”

You don't flat out say your a witch until the case involving actual witches, at first one one believed you but when you explained your a long distance descendant of the Salim witch they start to believe you.

Angela is fascinated by you and is always asking questions, it honestly made your bond stronger.

“can you move things? Are wands in actual thing?”

You guys became best friends, in fact you, Angela, and Temperance become the labs 'golden trio'.

You come to them for advice and they're kinda like your over protective older sisters. Angela has scared off three dates thst didn't treat you right or called you a freak when they found out about you being a witch.

Angela introduced you to her psychic, Avalon Harmonia and you to immediately hit it off.

Temperance can't really wrap her head around it at first, but she uses her knowledge of other culters to try and understand.

She may not believe in the spiritual aspect of your life, but she doesn't try and degrad your heritage.

She might get too technical or scientific at times but you don't take things personal even if she basically says your kind isn't possible.

“we'll I'm standing right infront of ya Dr. B”

“I'm sorry Dr. L/n” she quickly says. “it's not big deal”

The one who was fascinated the most was the Jeffersonian's very own Wendell Bray, he couldn't help but fall for you. He loved that you were unapologetically yourself, you reminded you of Luna Lovegood or Hermione Granger from Harry Potter.

He didn't waste time asking you out. Tho you guys hit it off immediately, you both decided to take things slow and let your relationship grow.

He never shys away from who you are and he'll always ask questions to learn more about you and the lighter side of witches.

He'll get into tarot card reading with you and love learning what each card means. Unfortunately you scared Lance Sweets with one reading a couple of months prior.

“what doses thst mean? Oh God y/n” you chuckled. “it's not a bad reading Dude”

“the picture freaks me out” Lance said.

Wendell is the exact opposite and just let's you explain what each one means. His favorite one is the 'lovers' card, he asked you to be his girlfriend with one.

Jack Hodgins, one of your closer friends always makes harmless jokes. “so... What's your hogwarts house? And tell me... is it leviosa or Leviosra?”

It's all in fun and you know it, you'll always give him a smart ass awnser and you both will laugh it off.

When you actually do get agervated with him it's not because of the witch jokes, your emotions are easy to read and Hodgins will quickly catch on. Most of the time he'll through in a joke.

“please don't use avada kedavra on me” he said flinching away.

When Wendell got sick you want into a deep spiral trying trying to find somthing that could help. You even went to lengths of asking your great aunt that still practiced with spells if anything could help.

“i knew it would be a waste of time” you groaned and hang the phone up abruptly.

It killed you that you couldn't heal him or anything, you weren't powrful enough. And even if you were it would drang you of your power and probably be in a lot of pain, you wouldn't tell Wendell that though.

He didn't care, he just wanted your love and comfort through the hard times and that's exactly what you did.

You got through it like any other hard ship and you couldn't be happier when you found out he beat cancer in the ass.

And everyone knows Angela had been secretly planning your wedding as soon as you and Wendell started dating.

When you actually did the announcement of your engagement Angela pulled out a big, thick binder of ideas.

“how long have you been planning this?”

“around the time you guys started dating” you raised an eyebrow. “come on, I got excited and Avalon said it was gonna happen”

Temperance helped out alot too and the wedding was absolutely gorgeous. That was also the first time any of the Lab geeks and Squinterns saw so many witches in one place.

“would I get in trouble if I threw a bucket of water on your great aunt?” Angela asked. “go for it” you said, sipping your wine.

You never felt so excepted in one place, unlike other places the Jeffersonian welcomed you with open arms and embraced who you are as a person.

#Witch!reader #Bones #Bones imagines #Wendell Bray #Wendell Bray x reader #Wendell Bray imagines #Angela Montenegro #Angela Montenegro x reader #Temperance Brennan #Temperance Brennan x reader #Bones x reader #Squinterns #Squinterns x reader

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shiny-jr · 2 years

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I got the Hyena Chieftan and was kicking my legs the entire time I read it. The way that your able to capture all of Savanclaw's cast so utterly perfectly will never not amaze me ! I had to go read the other two immediately and those too were simply, MWAH ! Chef's kiss !

I'm so glad I got them down! They were kinda hard to write, not as difficult as Octavinelle but a little more challenging than Heartslabyul. Mainly I was wondering what kind of relationship they'd have with mc, I struggled with this more with Jack actually, because he isn't based off any character in the story, so I took some creative liberties with him. But then I managed to figure them all out. Spoilers for the Savanaclaw result below.

Leona is usually written as this cruel and cold dude, but like, I think most people overplay that part. I think people tend to forget that yeah, while he can be those things, he's also very mature and teasing and prideful. Like I mentioned in a previous post, I wanted to base Leona's manners closer to the character he was based off of, Scar, and he can be a very melodramatic sassy lion. Which was more of what I was going for. I wanted to have those amusing fun elements, while also keeping readers on their toes, because Leona is also intelligent, cunning, and he is and can still be cruel and cold. But with these new lighter sides to him, I thought it could make for some very good rivalry and tension between him and the mc. Kinda like an enemies to lovers vibe, but it ends not as real lovers because this is a yan story. If Leona was just straight out mean and threatening the entire time, I don't think that would've made for a very good story.

Ruggie was the easiest for me to decide when it came to relationships. We know Ruggie as this sly mischievous little guy that can be a little mean, but otherwise he's pretty cool, but he takes advantage of people a lot. I decided to make him a childhood friend, because it was so easy considering who the mc was supposed to be replacing. Ruggie would've been this small and weak kid that looked up to the older and stronger kid, the character mc replace. So they would've been together all the time, and Ruggie would've depended on them a lot as they took care of them. Of course mc doesn't really realize this, at least not until later on. That's why you see Ruggie as a lot less mischievous around mc and more caring, because he believe that the mc is his childhood friend that's been with him and taken care of him through thick and thin.

Jack... oh boy, I honestly did not know how I would add Jack. At first I considered adding him as another "outcast" in the hyena clan, but then I thought that if that were the case, he'd be too similar to Ruggie and it would make things boring. Plus he looks way too different from most beastmen. Which is why I opted to foreigner, specifically a guard that was taken in by Leona. It made more sense that way, because the kingdom would have way more visitors and foreigners than the hyena outskirts. So that's why Jack was there, and it just made sense for him to want to work for Leona since he looked up to him. Jack being a guard for the other side made things much more easier for him to build a unique relationship with mc, as he hated them before he properly met them, as he mentions in the story and to why. He'd eventually admire mc for their leader qualities and other good traits (that the mc doesn't believe they have), and we know how Jack is a very determined guy that respects leadership and hierarchy.

#shiny speaks #damnation twst au

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nuclearforest · 2 years

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May I request our boy Pip on the list ask?

I love my boy Pip. He deserved better. Anyway, ty for dropping the ask, Rotten!! Time to think about things I haven't really bothered to in a while lol.

1: sexuality headcanon

Summed up by the phrase "I'm not gay, but 20 bucks is 20 bucks." And I don't mean that in the offensive sense. Pip is largely straight, but has definitely questioned himself and engaged in some intimate acts with men. Just to give it a shot while he was young and staring death in the face.

Maybe the best term is straight but homoflexible. Like he is attracted to women, but under the right set of circumstances he wouldn't turn a man down even if he wouldn't usually pursue it. And all things considered, for as rare as it is, Pip is pretty comfortable with it.

If anything, one of the things keeping him from being any more interested in men is all the time he spends with the rest of the Geese. Camp is a bit too rough and fighting with and losing men like your brothers creates quite a bit of emotional scar tissue.

2: otp

SerPip. They deserved so many good things and I start sobbing every time I have to watch Pip's death. At least they have each other for company forever, though. 'Til death do they part is no match for a determined little vampire, apparently!

3: brotp

Canon-wise I dunno if we really saw Pip's interactions with the rest of the Hellsing cast to really say he'd be bros with anybody (even between Iscariot and Mill!) But I think he'd probably be pretty cool bros with Integra. Similar ages and leaderly roles in their respective groups. It's easy to see them kicking back to have a cigar together and chat at least once. Teggy desperately needs more friends and socialization outside of work, too, and so in that respect Pip would be healthy for her.

But that said non-canon wise it's gotta be Pip and Barrett. Like, they're at the right age to wingman for each other and they have absolutely iconic chemistry as friends. We need to see more of them. Pretty pls. (I mean I could theoretically also write some but I am far more inclined to write uncle Pip to Barrett's kids because That is also rich with possibility...)

4: notp

Honestly I don't give a shit who ships what or how relationships between other characters are explored. And like, I think there are plenty of chances to explore Pip as a comrade and friend to many folks of the cast. But if we're talking about romantic shipping, I don't think I could ever see Pip with Alucard or Walter. And TBF I haven't seen it, but it also seems like a crack thing with relatively little canon support (until somebody kicks down my door and informs me otherwise).

5: first headcanon that pops into my head

Dude is surprisingly good at holding a home together. Like he keeps the place clean enough, knows how to cook basic things, and probably bothers to at least half-ass making his bed every morning. There's something about the civility to be savored at home before going back out to work, you know? He lives like a dog the rest of the time so he may as well live like a man while it suits him.

6: favorite line from this character

Full disclosure I do not really bond closely with lines or specific phrases. So it's hard to remember and I had to go back and listen to a bunch of stuff lmao.

But pip's little monolog to to Seras before Zorin shows up where he's talking about London and how nice and normal people were just kinda gets me. It's not quite the same as a love letter to the mundane life, but he's one of the few folks in hellsing really showing off some humanity there. So I really like that one, as often as I forget about it lol.

7: one way in which I relate to this character

Honestly Pip seems like the kinda guy to roll with the punches and that's how I like to think I am too. Like, he's adaptable: learns the supernatural is real (ok), decides he wants a vampire gf (brave man), and still manages to stand for his core beliefs at the end of the day. I like to think I'm the same in that sense, where I can adapt until I have something worth standing up for.

8: thing that gives me second hand embarrassment about this character

I dont think anything canon pip would do could ever give me second hand embarrassment. But also consider he can't really rub one out in privacy after being made into a familiar. And he's stuck in his uniform unless he needs to change. Seras can't just imagine him in other clothes, right????

Moreover why do any vampire ghouls keep their clothes???? Why are they not naked???? Is Alucard just one giant closet?????

9: cinnamon roll or problematic fave?

CINNAMON ROLL (and I will fight for this)

#mun rambles #hellsing ultimate #pip bernadotte

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minetteskvareninova · 1 year

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Minette watches Medici, part 13 (Ties That Bind)

- Eating my words about this show getting better with a heaping dose of bologna sauce (sorry, I don’t know any Tuscan foods). At this rate, I am definitely not watching season 3.

- You know, for a show that hinges so much of its plot on renessaince accounting and record keeping, Medici: The Magnificent is remarkably bad at explaining renessaince accounting and record keeping... Like at this point I just have to roll with anything that the writing throws at me on this subject. The Pazzi bank owes the Medici, and they can collect said debt at any time? Sure, why not. The Medici bank controls the price of alum? Sounds fake, but whatever. Pope can just transfer his account to the Pazzi bank like that? I guess so. This shit’s gotta wait for people more knowledgeable of renessaince economics to debunk. I am just here for the characters and their drama, which... Well...

- Gotta say, of all the things to get right, I did not expect Galeazzo Sforza being a massive dick to be one them. I mean, he was a condottiero, these guys usually weren’t known for their kindness, humility or deft diplomatic touch. Though the whole “your daughter is a child bride???” thing was kinda hillarious when you remember Lorenzo’s sister Lucrezia was married off at 13 (she did actually start living with her husband at 18, but still).

- Speaking of, I actually liked Salviati’s little bluff towards Galeazzo. The man is a villain as cartoonish as old Pazzi, but you can’t deny he’s one clever bastard.

- Old Pazzi and his scheming to get Francesco back on his side actually wasn’t that bad, either, untill something that should at best slowly sow seeds of doubt in his mind made him turn on both Lorenzo and his beloved wife wholesale. And it was such an easy fix, too - just make Francesco already conflicted about Lorenzo’s attempts to undermine the Pazzi bank! Like, Francesco’s father wanted to bury the hatchet with the Medici, and now they are destroying his life’s work, even if it is for understandable reasons (that is, his shitty uncle was trying to destroy them first). His uncle’s manipulations would only feed his already existing doubts about cooperating with Lorenzo, so even if he didn’t believe old Pazzi (because why should he?!) Francesco would still end up turning on his friend. In fact, why not add his dissappointment from not getting Imola to the mix? We could have so much juicy drama stem from this, if only the writers could be a little clever about it! But no, that would risk making Lorenzo look bad, even if only from a certain point of view, and we can’t have that, so now we’re on a fast train to Misunderstandingland, my least favourite plot destination.

- Did I mention Lorenzo is a raging Gary Stu? Because he is. His speech about “true republic” at the start of the episode almost made me quit the show altogether. I wanted to get trough this part with a vodka bottle in hand, but I suspect there’s not enough alcohol on our good green mother Earth to dull my pain.

- Other subplots aren’t any better. Lorenzo’s relationship with Clarice is proving to be lamer by the minute, and Gugliermo with Bianca are sitting on their asses in the Medici mansion this whole time, apparently. The show threatens me by relationship development between Lorenzo and Giuliano when it shows Lorenzo’s frustration with that shitty aimless fratbro, but that fizzles out when he immediately turns to Francesco as a substitute brother. Francesco, who immediately betrays him for no fucking reason, except for the fact that Lorenzo apparently didn’t explain to him Novella was promised to Giuliano first.

- It was admittedly pretty funny to see Simonetta express frustration with the fact that Giuliano is, in fact, a shitty aimless fratbro, even if it didn’t really go anywhere. But then her husband starts suspecting Sandro of an affair with Simonetta, because... He used her as a model in a bunch of paintings the dude didn’t comission, I guess? Truly, noone in this show is safe from the effects of microdosing on stupid pills. On the other hand, it could lead to Giuliano and Simonetta breaking up, so that might not be so bad, aye?

#medici: the magnificent #minette watches medici #and DRINKS

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moonrainbowfish · 2 years

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Pokémon Matchup for @tolkien-fantasy

Leon would be, without a doubt, an excellent partner. He's confident, considerate and strong!

I don't even think any words in the english language exist to describe how much I literally ship you guys!

The relationship tropes I'd use to describe it would include: Jock x Nerd, Tall x Small (I love relationship with height differences), Mutual pining, and Friends to Lovers

Speaking of strength.. should you ever get tired, Leon would happily carry you around all day. He really adores the flushed look on your cute face every time he picks you up💕

He's really amazed at how smart you are like holy Miltank! Your intellect is really attractive to him, and he loves showing you off to others

Of course, he'll never push you too far. He's a very respectful man and always makes sure to never cross your boundaries

While I don't think learning a language is easy for him, he'll definitely want you to teach him some german or any kind of language you're currently learning. Oh, and no, it's definitely not because he wants to be close to you and loves it when you info dump, oh no... well, okay! Maybe a little bit, but he has to admit when he hears you speak about your passions, he can't help but fall for you even more than he already has 💜

When you playfully call him pet names in german, he can't help but grin like a total idiot. Even if he doesn't know what it means at first. His favourite word being "Liebling" 🩷

He enjoys giving you all sorts of terms of endearment just as much, from babe, sweetheart, little champ, his cheerleader, sunshine, you name it!

You're his biggest and greatest motivation everytime he goes to battle in the arena. Leon can't help but chuckle at the thought of you sitting somewhere in the ranks and cheering for him

And even if you can't, he'll be just as happy to meet you after his match and tell you all about how it went. He doesn't want to overwhelm you, so he makes sure to give you space at needed times

Out of all his Pokémon I think his Dragapult would totally adore you. The ghost/dragon type just loves to float around you, you being an expert in ghost types after all. It's really adorable.. no matter who it is you're faced with, how much your presence alone makes anyone adore you, no matter man or Pokémon

You just have that endearing vibe. That makes people feel cozy and at home. Drawing them in like a moth to a warm flame. It was also that side of yours, which made Leon fall for you, very hard

Even his brother Hop looks up to you and secretly is already picturing Leon and your wedding inside his head

Leon would always be there to remind you to take care of yourself. He's your partner, buddy, and shoulder to cry on. Your rock and protector. Always there to defend you, should the time ever call for it. Even though he knows how truly strong you are yourself, he can't help but get a little overprotective at times. I mean, being the significant other of a champion sure is exhausting at times, but he's very understanding

When Leon settles for someone, that being you, he wants to be with them for life. He'd be incredibly loyal, always by your side, whenever he has the time and also because you're there to guide the way since usually this himbo has no flipping sense of direction whatsoever, haha

He's so enamored with you, Tori! One day, you gave him a little bracelet you handcrafted yourself, and he's been wearing it with pride ever since. He wears it as a good luck charm to Pokémon battles... even when he goes to sleep. This guy almost never takes it off! (Dude, I really wish I was able to draw this. Awww, this is so cute💖)

Your writing is really fascinating to him. The way you're able to describe the characters so well and how each story you write makes want to him read all about your stuff even more

Don't even get me started on your drawings. Leon will frame them and hang them all around the house until your face is as red as a tomato from all the praise you're getting

He'll totally shower you in compliments and leans down to give you forehead kisses. He loves how small you are compared to him, gently taking your smaller hand in his bigger one, or giving you piggy back rides, if you feel exhausted.

From time to time, when he feels really like being cheesy, he even kneels down and kisses your hand, like those knights in movies do with the princess. Loving the way your face immediately flushes red. The way your beautiful brown locks frame your gorgeous face and the blue eyes that sparkle at him in pure love and adoration. He simply can't get enough of you, Tori! ❤

#pokemon matchup #pokemon sword and shield #pokemon leon #pokemon matchup exchange #matchup exchange

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sammy-is-not-smiley · 2 years

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hi hi hi! how are you?? i saw that your requests are open so could you please do a steve fic with reader being scared of heights?? maybe throw in shy! reader in there too? thank you <33

( this is definitely not an easy request so i completely get it if you’re not open to writing it. no pressure!! :))

Big Wheel

Steve Harrington x gn!reader/shy!reader

S4 SPOILER FREE

Summary: While finally getting some alone time with Steve at the county fair, Steve takes you on the ferris wheel. However, he doesn’t know about your greatest fear.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings/tags: Fear of heights, anxiety, language, kinda hurt/comfort

A/N: Hello! Thank you for your request!! You said it wasn't an easy request but I IMMEDIATELY knew what I wanted to do with it. I think I accidentally made it a gender neutral reader so I added that with the title. Hope that’s ok!

“Dude, get your own!” Lucas yanked the bag of cotton candy away from Mike as they walked through the trampled grass.

“Just a little more, then I’ll stop.”

Lucas shook his head. “No, man, I’m cutting you off-”

As he was speaking, Max leaned over and snatched the bag away while Lucas was distracted and ran in the opposite direction.

“Hey!” He yelled, then ran after her, pushing between you and Steve behind them.

“Person who catches me first gets to have it!” Max yelled, holding the bag high above her head, then disappearing into the crowd. Mike, El, and Will followed after Lucas, not about to pass up the potential for free cotton candy.

Dustin rolled his eyes. “Guys, we have to stay together!” He whined, running after as well.

You laughed, watching them meld into the crowd behind you. While at the county fair, you and Steve had been trying to figure out how to ditch the kids for a bit for some alone time. So, at the last game booth, you quietly gave Max a mission: Get the kids away, even for just ten minutes. She had given you a mischievous smile in response and a nod.

As soon as the kids were out of sight, Steve grabbed hold of your hand. “‘Bout time they ran off, I don’t know when they got so clingy.”

You leaned into his shoulder, bumping your bodies together. “I think it’s cute. They look up to you.”

Steve looked down at you and saw the neon lights of the fair sparkle in your pupils. It was like watching stardust shine in them. “I’m just super cool…. You know I was arrested once for being too cool?” He smirked.

You rolled your eyes, swinging his hand with yours back and forth. “If I remember correctly, the charges were dropped due to lack of evidence.”

He put his hand to his chest, feigning pain. “Oh, ouch, and here I thought you were into me (y/n).”

You simply laughed and shook your head as you walked. He knew you were into him, he knew it all too well. The first time you admitted it to him it felt like pulling teeth. Even now that you were closer and in a semi-secret relationship, it still felt like molasses pouring out of your mouth to tell him how much he meant to you. Stating how you felt was never easy, to the point where you felt it was embarrassing. He never teased too much about it though, and you appreciated that. Only occasionally did he tickle you mercilessly just to get you to confess your love for him all over again. But if anything, it just made you like him more. He was lighthearted and patient when it came to the way you expressed yourself.

“So, what now, Mr. Cool?” You looked around at the rides and booths you both passed, realizing now you probably had a limited amount of time to spend just the two of you.

“Here, this way,” He muttered and pulled you by the hand, weaving you through the crowd. You passed by ride after ride until finally, he halted in the line for the ferris wheel. Your eyebrows rose at the same time your stomach dropped.

You turned and gave him an alarmed expression, which he mistook as a question.

“A little cheesy, but the lights look the absolute best from the top of this thing, trust me,” He said, staring up at it as it slowly spun.

You looked back at it, intimidated by how high the wheel towered in the sky. Maybe it wasn’t as tall as it looked. The lights would be pretty to see after all, and you’d be up there with Steve. There was nothing to be afraid of.

You forced a smile and nodded, squeezing his hand still in yours. It will all be fine.

Once the wheel stopped and the last people got off, the line began to move quickly. Before you knew it, Steve had paid and you were climbing into the next available basket.

The safety bar was pulled back with a clank and you gripped it for dear life.

This is going to be fun. This is going to be fun.

The wheel began to move, making you take in a quick breath. The higher it rose, the harder you tried to grip the bar. When it paused halfway up, you felt a large hand place itself softly over yours on the bar.

“You good?”

Quickly you nodded, staring down at his hand. You could feel yourself growing paralyzed in fear, hands and feet tingling with anxiety.

Steve’s brow folded in concern and he scooched closer, making his hip touch with yours. The basket rocked slightly and your stomach clenched. “You sure? You’re looking pale.”

You gulped hard, gripping and regripping the cold safety bar. “It’s just uh….” You stopped as your gaze slowly lingered downward below you.

“Yeah?”

You could feel your shoulders tensed up to your ears and your heart hammered in your chest. You shook your head was a way of saying ‘never mind’.

“No, come on,” He removed his hand from yours and wrapped his arm around you, pulling you in. “What’s going on?”

Just as you inhaled to respond, the wheel jolted and started to move further upwards. You gasped at the motion and turned to cling to Steve as tightly. His shirt stretched slightly as your fingers clawed into it at the back. When you pressed your face into his chest you could smell fabric softener.

This close he could feel how hard you were actually breathing. “Woah, hey are you… Are you scared?”

It to a moment for you to get the guts up to admit it to him. Sheepishly you nodded, bumping his chin with the top of your head ever so slightly.

He chuckled dryly. “You should have told me! Why didn’t you tell me you were afraid of heights?”

You turned your head slightly to speak but kept your eyes squeezed shut, avoiding looking down at the ground below. “I didn't want to bum you out.”

“(y/n), there’s plenty more to do around here. Out of everything, this is probably the least fun.” You could hear the smile on his face and felt him shake his head.

Embarrassed, you nuzzled your face back into the fresh scent of his shirt and groaned in misery.

“You’re fine, you’ll be okay,” He cooed quietly, bringing his hand to the back of your head and massaging your tense neck and scalp. “You're not bumming me out.” Slowly, his touch took you out of the situation and he could feel you begin to relax in his clutch. However, your grip on his shirt didn’t falter. At that moment, everything narrowed down to just you two, holding each other tightly and taking in each other's scents.

When all of the baskets were full, the wheel slowly went into continuous motion. Around and around it went, your eyes squeezed shut the entire time.

“You want me to tell you what the lights are like?” Steve asked you softly by your ear.

You smiled into his shirt and gave a small ‘mm-hm’. You were genuinely curious to know how he’d go about explaining them.

“It’s like stars, but… better,” He started, pausing as he stared out at the fair below. “Some are really big and bright, but there are small ones too in all different colors… Kind of rainbow. I think someone just won a game at Whac-A-Mole, the whole booth is flashing like crazy.”

“We should play that one.”

He chuckled, his chest bouncing as he did so. “Sure thing, babe,” His fingers ran through your hair, letting his hand linger in the strands. “We’ll go right after this. You deserve a prize.”

After one last trip around, the wheel slowly came to a stop as the first passengers began to get off below you. Gradually, your own basket was brought back down to the ground, the sound of the crowd once again coming to your level.

Steve nudged your arm and rubbed it warmly as your basket came to a stop. “You made it. It’s time to get off.”

Your eyes snapped open, seeing the ground now only a few steps to the side of you. Begrudgingly, you sat up, letting the worker pull back the safety bar and gestured out to guide you two where you needed to go. Steve grabbed your hand, more tightly this time, and helped you shakily get out of the basket you had shared with him. As soon as your feet hit the firm ground, your body fully relaxed once again and you let out a satisfied breath.

Steve tugged at your arm gently, getting your attention. “Better?”

You shyly smiled and nodded, averting your gaze from his as you felt your face grow warm.

“Come on, I want to do something romantic for you… and not scare the shit out of you this time,” He laughed, leading you over to the game booths.

Starting with Whac-A-Mole, Steve took you to almost every game booth that still had prizes. He insisted on trying to win you at least one stuffed animal at each one, although in the end he only won you three. It didn’t matter, though. It was more than enough. He was more than enough.

Once the kids found you both again, they were none the wiser.

#steve harrington x gn reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x (y/n)#steve harrington wholesome #steve harringon one shot #stranger things #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #stranger things fanfic #stranger things reader insert #steve harrington reader insert #steve harrington fic

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beels-burger-babe · 3 years

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A Little Voice Told Me - Pt.2

Poly! MC Summary: Words hurt and leave their scars. MC learns this the hard way after hearing some not-so-nice whispers about them while on a date with Beel. How are they supposed to be the partner of the seven lords of the Devildom when they just don't measure up? Part 1: HERE, Part 3: HERE ***Good Golly!! Y'all really like the angst, huh? Here you guys go. Cry your hearts out and enjoy! - B*** Beelzebub woke up the rest of his brothers early the next morning. While most of them attempted to flip him off or threaten him at the initial disturbance, all it took was him saying that they needed to talk about you for them to shoot out of bed. In a matter of minutes, all of them, except Levi, were seated around the breakfast table. "If we're talking about MC, why aren't they here?" Satan asked while poking at a piece of fruit. "I don't know about you, but I personally don't feel right talking about them behind their back." Belphie scoffed and laid his head in his arms. "It's not like we're gossiping about them or anything. They were acting off last night, and Beel thought we should discuss what we're gonna do about it." Beel nodded, "They pulled into themself halfway through the night, and was upset but kept brushing me off whenever I tried to talk to them about it." Mammon huffed and crossed his arms. "Maybe they just didn't feel like they could talk to ya about it," he rose to his feet and began to walk towards the door. "I'm the first! I'm sure I can get it out of them, easy peasy! I'll just head in there and-" "Mammon, sit down!" Lucifer hissed. Mammon grumbled under his breath but did as told. Lucifer sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "We've talked about this. Stop bringing up the whole 'first man' thing. MC is in a relationship with all of us. Not just you." The second-born pouted and stabbed an egg with his fork.

Lucifer rolled his eyes at his brother's antics and looked back at Beel. "Something clearly happened during the date. Do you have any ideas at all at what it could've been?" Asmodeus stirred a swirly straw around in his drink. "I mean, I would be pretty upset if I spent three hours of my evening at a barbaric sporting event too," Asmo chuckled and smirked. "The only good thing about sports is that you get to see all those rippling muscles of the athletes in action." Beel scowled at his brother took a bite out of the omelet that was on his plate. "It wasn't because of the game. MC loves coming to my Fangol games and was having a blast with me until halftime. Something had to have happened while I was gone." Asmodeus opened his mouth to counter the statement when Leviathan came rushing into the room carrying his laptop. Lucifer raised an eyebrow at the sight, "What have I told you about devices at the table?" Leviathan shot him an annoyed look as he plopped down in one of the chairs. "This isn't about table etiquette. This is about MC," he looked over at Beel and Belphie. "I think I have an idea on what may have caused them to start distancing themselves." Everyone perked up in interest at the news; each one of them eager to know what was distressing their loved one so much that they felt like they couldn't talk to them. "Well are you going to tell us, or are you just going to sit there?" Satan quipped, his anger beginning to get the better of him as he sat on the edge of his seat. Levi gave him a flat look before he typed a few things on his keyboard. "I was doing a raid last night trying to keep my mind off of what might've happened with MC and decided to ask my party members about it," Leviathan's expression darkened as he began to explain. It was clear to everyone that whatever was said, wasn't taken lightly by the otaku. Rather than reading the conversation out loud, he turned his laptop screen for all his brothers to see. Leviachan: Gaaah! I just can't focus on the game tonight. My partner came back from a date tonight and has been acting kind of sus. There's definitely something bothering them, but they refuse to tell anyone. Ruri-Chans-Husbando: Dude, you're talking about that stupid human right? Why are you even with them? You shouldn't give a Normie like them the time of day. Waifu-Addict: Exactly! Listen, we've all been talking and you need to drop that whore. They're totally just using you and your brothers for your titles and power. The demons read in horror and rage as the chat room filled with messages from the members of Leviathan's party all saying similar garbage about you and degrading you in every way they could think of. Satan stood up and began to pace near the table as he used every inch of his self-control to keep himself from lashing out. "I want names, Levi. Who are they and why do they seem to think it's okay to talk about MC like- like that?!" Satan snarled as he curled his hands into fists. Levi tsked and crossed his arms, as Lucifer took the laptop to look more closely at the messages. "You say that as if I haven't already used my 'title and power' as Grand Admiral to have my men collect and imprison them. They're at the navy base waiting for us to get our hands on them as soon as we sort this whole mess out." Belphie growled, now sitting up and wide awake. "Get our hands on them is right. No one gets away with this shit," Asmodeus glared at the computer as though it had just dyed all of his clothing brown. "Rotten brats. They're all just jealous of stunning MC. Ugh, Diavolo, haters are the worst." Beel pushed his plate away from himself as he frowned deeply. "As disgusting and horrible as this is, what does it have to do with MC getting all quiet during our date?" A low rumble came from Lucifer as he handed the laptop back to Levi. A fiery hatred was burning brightly in his eyes as he gritted his teeth. "If a bunch of anti-social shut-ins are going around talking about our dearest MC like this, I believe Leviathan's point is that others probably are."

"Ouch. I wasn't going to say it l-like that, but yes," Levi winced and continued, "MC probably overheard people saying something about them. I mean, if people said that crap about me I'd probably hide in my room and not come out for months!" Mammon, who had been surprisingly quiet during all of this, had a very serious expression on his face. "Right, and we don't want MC to go through that. For Diavolo's sake, they've left alone to overthink this enough," Mammon stood up and headed towards the door again, Satan hot on his trail. "I'm going up to there to talk with them. Ya'll are welcome to come with, but you ain't stoppin' me." "Actually, Mammon, you're not. We should wait until MC comes to us," Lucifer interrupted. An animalistic snarl tore its way from Satan's throat as what little self-control he had snapped. Wrath incarnate lunged himself at Lucifer, grabbing his older brother by the collar of his cloak. "Are you serious, Lucifer?! You're seriously putting your stupid pride first, now?!? MC needs us!" Lucifer growled and pushed Satan off of him as he stood to size him up. "No. What they need is to not feel pressured to open up when they aren't ready! We can't make them feel like they can't come to us!" Mammon scoffed from where he stood in the back. "Oh, cause that's perfect logic! News flash, oh wise one, They ain't gonna come to us if they're thinkin' they're a burden! But you wouldn't know anything about that would you?!" Lucifer's eyes widen and he took a step back in shock at the statement. "What is that supposed to mean?" Mammon and Satan both opened their mouths to put Lucifer in his place when Beel all of sudden cleared his throat loudly. All three of the angry demons turned to snap at him but froze as they saw you standing in the room behind them. They instantly straightened themselves up gave you their full attention. The air seemed to lay still between you as everyone waited for the other to make the first move. As with almost every situation, it was Mammon who broke the silence. He took a step towards you. "MC, I was just coming to get you actually. There's somethin' we all wanna talk to you about." They could hear your breath catch in your throat as you took a step back. Panic filled your eyes the moment the words left his mouth. "O-Oh. I, um, I was actually just going to grab an apple and then head off to RAD for class. M-Maybe we can talk afterwards?" Satan frowned as you walked past him towards the fruit bowl. "MC, it's the weekend." You stopped mid-step. An uncomfortable tension filled the room as the obvious excuse was exposed. The brothers waited for you to move, to speak, to do something to give them any sort of sign for what you wanted them to do, but you just stood there, still like a statue except for the tremors in your hand. "Come on, Darling," Asmodeus spoke softly. His face clearly showed the hurt and concern that was coursing through him. "Everything's alright, I promise. We just need to talk about a few things." The brothers had thought of a number of ways you could've reacted to them confronting you. Lucifer thought that perhaps you would snap at them and distance yourself further. Mammon, Levi, and Asmo expected a few small tears followed by a cuddle session. Satan imagined a slightly more dramatic telling, like something from one of his novels, that ended him being your hero and massacring all those who dared speak ill about you. Beel thought perhaps you could talk over a bunch of comfort foods that allowed you to remain calm and feel safe. Belphie had hoped that perhaps you hadn't believed what you overheard, and the two of you could laugh at how idiotic even the idea of them not loving you was. But you, breaking down into tears, sobbing the words "I'm sorry" over and over again? None of them had expected, nor were prepared, for that. ***Apparently this is now going to be a three-part series. This part was interesting to write. I fully believe that if the brothers were in a poly relationship with the MC they would definitely bicker and argue about

who knows MC best and who had the better date whenever MC isn't around. Honestly, they probably have a score chart 😅 I hope you guys liked part 2! Keep an eye out for part 3, where MC finally opens up to the boys and we have some hurt/comfort times \uwu/ ***

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taylorkellyreporting · 3 years

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live-blogging is apparently something i’ll never stop doing no matter how hard i try lmfao

this right here means everything to me i don’t even care that he’s in love with claire right now if i can survive young and hungry i can survive anything

claire’s little rose cake is so cute

MY PEOPLE

e.t in a wig? 😭

“the whole thing takes place inside a closet” PLS

he saved her LIFE they’re endgame idc idc i’m believing it until it’s physically impossible

her little smile while thinking about her feelings for grant oh she’s got it bad

his little smile too? and the closed door? i know this scene probably isn’t going to be what i’m expecting but a girl can (and will) dream

“yikes! grant asked chelsea for a favor” aaand the slow burn is back on lmao

“you go first” sorry but if that were me and the thing i had to say was that i have feelings for the person i’m talking to, you bet your ass i’m going first.

ohhh the devastating realization on her face i hate it here i forgot how painful slow burns are

y’all better be writing au’s for this scene i want fics where that closed door leads to something else

“i told marley he was a little bitch, you know, flirting to get things flowing” skfjfjckcks

“easy tiger! i don’t wanna have to hose down the sofa” 😭

“the tops need bottoms, the bottoms need tops!” “they should try switching, works for me” WOAH 😭 jayden being a switch was not something i needed confirmed but good for him! good for him

they both have daddy issues lmfaooo

“oink, oink, baby!” i’m sorry???😭😭💀

chelsea and her little smile while talking about grant oh she likes him so much

yeah…

“claire is a wonderful, sweet person who deserves love” SO! DO! YOU!

“you really think i should?” oh her face i’m sick

never thought a hug between them would cause me so much pain

“and how’s your crush on grant?” i audibly gasped

solana is right, chelsea really should be single for right now. as much as i want her and grant together, she should really just go out there and have fun for a bit before committing to a relationship with anyone.

grant’s future love confession to chelsea is gonna hit so hard

there are no winners here

hoping that claire turned him down because she has feelings for someone else not because she’s scared

grant and chelsea in their pining eras except grant’s pining for claire! :) smiling :) through :) the :) pain :)

when we get a future scene where grant acts like an idiot in love with chelsea i will know peace

“thank you glaad co-chair” 😭😭

if grant ends up on the same dating app and matches with chelsea literally nothing will convince me that they aren’t endgame sorry

well. forgot that he’s a hot guy with people lined up to date him lmao

“on the one hand, kinda boho. on the other, kinda homo.” help 😭

pause! tapping into the delusional shipper side of me for a moment. did grant seem…idk. not too thrilled when chelsea was telling him about the guy she was talking to? like his facial expression’s were a bit off…

“you’re supposed to be straight-bait, not conversion therapy” the laugh i just let out please 😭

“my sister and i will each have a gin & tonic. in one glass. with two straws” oh what in the f.r.i.e.n.d.s. is going on here?

the twirl 😭😭

“houston, we have a homo” jayden really is the funniest bitch on this show argue with the wall

that “wtf?” look chelsea and grant just shared lmfao

oh i hope this continues to work out for jayden he deserves it truly

awww shit. she does have feelings for grant

kay she says one thing but her face says another. hoping this dave dude helps her move on cos they could be so cute together

just date each other

“goodnight, grant.” “goodnight, chelsea.” sjfjfjfnjd mutually pining era coming soon????

i know grant feels something for her, i know he does. his facial expressions say everything without him ever actually having to say anything

oh this opening scene means everything to me

oh jayden definitely had a glow up

their drinking game is something i’d totally play

chelsea is terrible at this 😭

chelsea immediately caving and saying she’ll play the game all because grant put his hand on her back and said it’d mean so much to him if she played??? oh she’s weak for him she’s down so bad and who can blame her

“you’ve been talking about her all day” HA!

oh his face after saying he’s just excited for chelsea to join in…my man had a feelings realization huh?

so most of this episode is going to be them running around looking for cody mail? i know it’s gonna be hilarious

his gnome? 😭

i too would break the law if grant walked up to me like that

“ramona and i were roommates but to me she was…so much more” the chelsgrant of it all

anyone: *talks*

me: how can i make this about chelsgrant?

THE GLANCE GRANT THREW AT CHELSEA AFTER CODY SAID HE FELL IN LOVE WITH RAMONA??? ENDGAME BITCHES

i hope they’re right about ramona cos i don’t think cody is gonna handle the broken heart well

YOU’RE ONE OF MY FAVORITE PEOPLE

i am on such a high right now

his mother?? 😭💀

that dance scene is comedy gold

oh that scene between jayden and jasmine was everything!! i hope the writers continue to grow their relationship throughout the series

chelsea working out with grant i’m gonna love this

not solana gaslighting jayden and claire 😭

knew she wasn’t in a cult but solana practicing law again was not something that i was expecting

her real name is alison. okay.

I COULD JUST KISS YOU RIGHT NOW

just took the sharpest intake of breath

SHUT THE FUCK UP

the writers are sick. just sick.

that opening scene made my heart stop and for what

ohhhhhhhh this hurts

my guy got rejected by both sisters i just know he’s sick

awww grant and clair had a meet cute 🥺

she most likely still has feeling for him and i’m most likely going to fling myself off a building 😃

“he’s not dead like we were hoping” fngjfjdks

“and we’re back, baby, hell yes!” why is this grandpa literally me

“this is all such a mess” you have no idea

“if i sit here any longer, i’m gonna kiss you” do it! do it! i am begging you to do it!

ohhh my girl’s so happy why does it have to end 😩

WHAT. THE. FUCKKKK!!!??!?!?!?!

well that cliffhanger is going to be all i think about for the coming future 🙃 not losing hope. like i said earlier, it’s about the slow burn. we’ll get there eventually! chelsea and grant’s dynamic and chemistry is too good to do nothing with. it’s the long con.

this show is hilarious and i truly hope it comes back for a season two bc it deserves it.

#pretty smart #netflix pretty smart #pretty smart netflix #pretty smart lb #chelsea x grant #grant x chelsea #chelsea x claire #emily osment #gregg sulkin #olivia macklin #cinthya carmona #michael hsu rosen #long post

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dinolikes · 4 years

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SHOTO TODOROKI, KATSUKI BAKUGO, EIJIRO KIRISHIMA + SURPRISE HUGS

pairings ❤︎ shoto todoroki x reader, katsuki bakugo x reader, eijiro kirishima x reader

content warnings ❤︎ mild cussing

summery ❤︎ dense!shoto, soft!bakugo and just normal cinnamon bun kiri with an s/o who jumps on their back for hugs

a/n ❤︎ im pretty sure ive seen this concept before so if i find it ill link it here! i was just kinda upset today so i wanted to write something easy and sweet

you guys weren't dating yet

mina suggested you go all in or else shoto would never get it (very true mina)

so the next morning when you saw him, you ran up and jumped on his back, clinging to him like a koala

almost killed you the first time

he thought you were a villian tbh

once he realised it was you (and you almost got your face burnt off) he was just tense

he thought it was just a one time thing until you did it all again. and again. and again.

he never responded to the hugs, and you slowly started to feel self conscious

one day you decide bring it up with him

you ask if you can talk to him after class and you bring up your concerns, how you've liked him for a while and you tried to subtlety show them, and you just assumed he didn't get them until you started obviously showing affection with hugs and he still didn't get it, so now you thought he just didn't like you

and he just. blanks.

"those hugs were affection?"

"yes??"

"oh, i thought you were trying to train my reflexes."

??? what?

n e ways?? shoto noticed you looking at him expectantly, what did you want him to do?

obviously he wasn't getting the hint again

"do you like me?"

"of course I do"

"WHAT?!"

"why would I be hanging out with you if I didn't like you?"

"...shoto i mean i want to be in a relationship with you."

shoto took a step back in shock.

"shoto are you ok-"

"id like if we had a relationship too.."

your face turned red, "what." you squeaked

"was that not what i was supposed to say?"

you shook your head "no no-! im just- shocked."

he tilted his head in confusion, a blush still on his cheeks "why? i showed an obvious liking towards you."

now it was your turn to be confused, "like what?"

"you borrowed my pencils a lot and never gave them back yet i never pestered you for them."

your face dropped for a second before you burst out laughing, making the poor boy more confused

"whats so funny? am i being rejected?"

you wiped your tears and grabbed his face, "no no! you're just so cute!"

shoto couldn't stop the small blush on his cheeks from getting redder, even more so when you gave his cheek a peck.

you smiled at eachother before you realized something

"wait if you thought i was tryna train you with all my hugs, why didn't you ever fight back? or even dodge me? you just let me 'attack' you."

"...i didn't want to hurt you."

my dude doesn't even question why

you koala hug him? that's an hour out of your day as all kiri's gonna wanna do is snuggle you and hug you back

it became a routine for you guys, you'd jump on his back and he'd grab your thighs and carry you to the closest spot to sit down, and then it was cuddle time!

the first time you did this in front of the baku squad, mina was squealing and taking pictures (she sent them to you don't worry), denki was nudging jirou and asking her when they were gonna do that, sero was impressed with the coordination and bakugo called you a simp (only for you to give him a raspberry and call him a virgin)

sometimes when you jump on his back, he'll bring you to his front (through a lot of crawling, pulling and trust) and carry you around like a baby

you guys really are the cutest couple

he's the only one who doesn't make a big fuss out of this, like bakugo tries to be angry and shoto is just confused but kiri is smart and he's good at adapting to new things, expecially when the new things are his s/o giving him affection, he doesn't care how

this makes it harder to write for but I need to love my boy

his hugs are the best though, he makes you feel so secure and safe, and after a stressful day the only thing that can cheer you up is cuddles with him

whenever he's down on himself and he feels insecure, hugs are the go to

he'll come into your room and before you can ask what was up, he'd already flop on top of you and curl around you

and hell yeah you stay, he's fucking adorable

basically don't hug him unless you're ready to make a commitment

the first time you did it, you were immediately flung off

"what the fuck was that?!"

you propped yourself up and glared at your boyfriend, "a hug."

bakugo's eyes went soft for a second before yanking you up to your feet again, "well don't fucking do it!"

you rolled your eyes but gave him a peck on the cheek

"THAT IS INAPPROPRIATE BEHAVIOR FOR TH-" shhh iida, let us have this please🙏🙏

you guys almost forgot it was before class and everyone could see you

"i feel like im third wheeling by even looking at them."

"SHUT IT ANTENNAS!"

it wasn't until later when you and bakugo were studying in his room that things got weird

it first started with a couple shoulder bumps, and bakugo didn't yell like he usually did when you touched him during studying time (he takes his studying very seriously)

it got even more weird when bakugo stood up to grab a glass of water and when he sat down he was significantly closer to you, like shoulder to shoulder

you try to ignore it but bakugo keeps nudging you

"bakugo...i need to study-"

"can you hug me again?" he mumbled

you're shocked but once you register what he says you pounce

you're book are immediately thrown aside and you pull him down with you to lay down

bakugo grabs you by the waist and pulls you in while you play with his hair

"you're such a softie," you giggle

he shoves his head into your neck, "shut it."

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honeypiehotchner · 4 years

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delicate -- Hotch x Reader one-shot

Here’s that one-shot I’ve been holding for a while! Named her delicate after Taylor Swift’s song, purely because of the whole “dive bar on the east side/where you at?” imagery. I listened to the Spotify Singles (acoustic) version of the song while writing this, if you wanna listen while you read! Enjoy!! xx.

Summary: Hotch doesn’t go to bars very often. Until he meets you at one.

Warnings: age gap (reader is somewhere around 24-25), mentioning of being safe at a bar (so alluding to date rape drugs), harassment from one drunk dickhead

Hotch Masterlist

Hotch doesn’t go to bars.

When he’s not on a case, working on paperwork for a case, or caring for his son, he’s normally asleep.

Not at a bar.

But some nights, the memories are too much. Some nights, the cases take a toll on him — especially the children that never made it back home to their parents.

He doesn’t know why he’s in a bar. The only time he comes is when the team goes out and wants to drag him with. It’s normally Dave who manages to get him to agree to a beer or two.

But Aaron is alone this time.

You, on the other hand, know exactly why you’re in a bar.

You’re bored, you’ve just finished your masters degree, you need a drink and some time to yourself to people-watch.

It’s fun, really. Observing people while they’re drunk. You usually have one drink and switch over to water, wanting to remember the things you see while also staying safe.

But occasionally— or, well, more than occasionally by the sheer unfortunate fact of you being a woman alone in a bar, you get the typical man sliding into the seat next to you before he’s even all the way through his rehearsed, “Is this seat taken?”

You never answer. There is no point in trying because their ass already hits the chair before you can say, “Yes, it’s taken, by my foot, now move before I kick it up your ass.”

You never say that, not often. Sometimes the guys can be pretty big assholes, but the bartender, Vanessa, knows you well, so she usually threatens security before you get yourself in trouble.

Unfortunately, tonight looks like it’s going to be one of those nights.

The bar is packed for a reason you aren’t privy too until you see (and hear) the random band start a new song. Great. Performance.

Still, you snag the last seat at the bar, waving to the bartender when she sees you. You barely get the seat warm before she’s sliding your usual in front of you.

“It’s on the house tonight,” she yells.

“What?” You shake your head. “No the fuck it’s not.”

She leans closer so she doesn’t have to yell as loud. “You are my saving grace in this sea of assholes, so yes it is. We can fight about it later.”

“Fine,” you roll your eyes. You dip your hands underneath the bar to switch your diamond ring from your right to left hand.

Tonight, you’re married.

You got this ring when your last relationship ended so badly. It was a long time coming, and once you were finally able to see the other side, you went out and bought yourself an engagement ring. Just for you. A promise to yourself to start loving yourself harder, and going out with dickheads less.

So far, it’s been wonderful. You’re loving being alone. It was exhausting going on so many first dates, trying to love someone else instead of letting yourself heal.

It’s been two years of singleness for you now, and you’ve loved almost every day.

The “wedding” ring usually makes most of the guys turn the other way. A few that are oblivious will try talking to you, but once they glance at your hand, they excuse themselves.

It’s hysterical, if you’re honest.

But some, unfortunately, don’t give a damn.

Like the guy who has just squeezed his way into the seat next to you.

You roll your eyes and prepare yourself for the shallow conversations because, for some ungodly reason, the band decided now was a good time for a break.

“You come here often?”

Oh, for fuck’s sake. “Nope.”

“It’s a pretty good place,” the guy says, waving down the other bartender, his name is Nick. “You should come here more often.”

“Should I, now?”

“Yeah,” the guy grins. “You’ll see me.”

You roll your eyes so hard it nearly hurts.

“Wanna dance?”

“Not in the mood.”

“Can I buy you another drink?”

“No thanks.”

“Can I get you anything?”

“Why, do you work here?”

“Look, I’m just trying to be nice.” Ah, there it is. The “nice guy” line.

You turn your head, raising an eyebrow. “Good for you. I’m not interested.”

“Ooh,” he feigns hurt, holding an open hand to his chest. “Ouch.”

You shrug. “You’ll get over it.”

“Damn.”

“Mm.”

“You sure you don’t wanna dance?”

“I’m married,” you say easily, picking your glass up with your left hand to show off your ring. You don’t drink from your glass because you made the mistake of looking away for only a moment, so now you’re paranoid that he might’ve slipped something in it.

The guy looks around, then back to you. “I don’t see a husband.” Oh, he sounds so smug. Like he’s pulled one over on you. Moron.

“He’s on a work trip.”

“Well, he’s not here.”

“You don’t want to get on his bad side, dude.”

“Oh really? What’s he do for a living?”

“He works for the FBI.” The lie slips from your mouth before you can stop it, and you almost laugh.

It’s something you’ve pulled from the countless guys that have said they work for the FBI, but have no badge to show for it. It’s always cracked you up. You’re aware there’s an FBI office around here, but you doubt a greasy, blackout drunk works for them. Let alone more than five greasy, blackout drunks in one night.

“The FBI, huh?” The guy says, just taking it in stride. “What’s his name?”

Right as you’re about to make one up until Vanessa can get back over here to threaten security, two arms slip around your waist.

You’re ready to throw caution to the wind along with your fists, but the owner of the arms says, “Just go with it, I’m Aaron.”

You turn your head to see a very handsome older man peering down at you, a smile on his lips that you can’t help but mirror. Something about his face has your gut screaming that you can trust him, so you play along.

“Honey! I thought you were in Texas!” You throw your arms around his neck for good measure, and also for a moment to casually get a good whiff of his cologne. Goddamn. You’ll gladly be his fake-wife. Any day. Forever.

“I was,” Aaron says, squeezing you before letting you go. He moves to stand next to you, his arm around your waist in a protective manner. “We landed early, wanted to surprise you.” He kisses your knuckles to keep up the act, and then settles his eyes on the man who was bothering you.

“You must be the husband,” the guy mutters bitterly. “You really work for the FBI?”

Oh, fuck, you think. This guy just doesn’t give up. A few future scenarios flash before your eyes, but the one most alarming is a fight erupting, which isn’t all that far-fetched. You’d never be able to come back if you caused something like that.

But before you can stumble through some excuse, Aaron is pulling out a badge. An actual badge.

“Supervisory Special Agent Hotchner. I’m the unit chief of the BAU,” he says easily, holding his badge out for as long as it takes the guy to inspect it. You have no clue what BAU stands for, but you’re just thanking whatever Gods might be real that this is happening.

The idiot is scowling by the time Aaron puts his badge away. He leaves without a word.

Your jaw nearly drops as you watch the guy go, and literally leave the bar. You had hopes that he’d leave you alone, but leaving the bar entirely is even better.

Aaron’s arm slips from around your waist as he moves to take the now empty seat next to you. All the while you’re gawking at him like you’re in some fever dream.

When he catches your eyes, he says, “What?”

“Am I dreaming?” You blurt. “Do you really work for the FBI?”

He chuckles and pulls out his badge again, holding it out to you where you can read it. And sure as shit, he’s an actual FBI agent. What the fuck.

You look up as he pulls his badge away. “Did you hear me tell the guy my husband worked for the FBI?”

Aaron shakes his head. “That was pure luck. By the way,” he holds his hand out to you. “I’m Aaron.”

“Y/N,” you shake his hand, smiling at the fact that Aaron wanted to go through the official pleasantries and that you got to feel how soft his hand is again. “Thank you for that. I thought he’d never leave.”

“No worries. And it’s best he did, I really didn’t feel like arresting anyone tonight.”

“Arresting him? For what?”

“Well for starters, harassment. But since that usually doesn’t hold up very well, I’d have to say it was for his cocaine addiction.”

Your eyes widen. “He was doing coke?”

“Well, not out in the open, of course, but there were traces of it on his nose and his eyes had that look to them. Addicts are easy to spot when you run into them enough.”

Who the hell is this guy?

“Oh, and forgive me, what’s your husband’s name?” Aaron gestures down at your left hand. “I might know him, but I can’t say that I recognize you.”

“Oh,” you move the ring back to your right hand, much to Aaron’s surprise. “I’m not married. I only put it on the left hand to try to avoid assholes like that.”

“I see,” Aaron nods, and if you’re not mistaken, he almost looks pleased.

Vanessa returns to get Aaron’s drink, and then gives you a look.

You want to scream, yes, I’m well aware he is dangerously attractive and that he’s talking to me but don’t you dare say a word to embarrass me.

Instead, you say, “Can you make me another?”

She nods in understanding and pours out your drink, setting off to make a second after sliding Aaron his beer.

“So,” you turn your body and prop your head in your palm. “What’s got an FBI agent in a bar on a Tuesday night?”

He takes a long swig of his beer before answering. “What’s the real story behind that ring on your hand?”

“Answer for an answer,” you sing, smiling at Vanessa when she brings you your drink. She leaves without a word, raising her eyebrows at you.

“The cases can be rough,” Aaron says vaguely, bringing your attention back to him. “You?”

“Got it as a promise to myself to never date another prick ever again,” you chuckle, gazing down at the ring. “It’s worked its magic, so far.”

“So far?”

“I’m talking to you, aren’t I?”

He smiles through his next swig of beer.

+++

It becomes a routine, you and Aaron sharing a drink at the bar.

To your surprise, he has the same views as you about alcohol. It’s fun to have one drink, but getting wasted and blacking out isn’t.

It’s refreshing, if you’re honest. Everyone your age wants to get absolutely shitfaced every time they go out, and that’s just never been for you.

It helps that Aaron is older. Well— You’re not sure if it helps or not. Because he is significantly older, the farthest you two have gone is sharing a drink at the bar. He usually leaves first, needing to get home to his son, to do more case work, or there was one time when he actually got a call about a case mid-drink. He was gone for two weeks after that.

But he always comes back, and he always finds you here, at this bar.

You mostly come every night to keep Vanessa company for an hour or two. To give yourself a break from the chaos of reality and to give her a familiar face in the sea of drunken customers.

Every night that Aaron isn’t here, Vanessa asks you where he is. Like you would know (you only do if he tells you of a possible up and coming case). Like you have his number (you don’t). Like you care (you don’t want to admit that you do).

“No Daddy tonight?” Vanessa teases, sliding you your drink.

“If you don’t stop calling him Daddy, I swear to God.”

“Oh, don’t swear to Him. He doesn’t need to get involved.”

You send a glare her way, but you’re holding back a laugh.

“Is he still on a case?” She asks, trying to be serious again.

You shrug. “Who knows. They can last pretty long. He was gone two weeks for the last one.”

“Keeping track, are we?” She raises an eyebrow.

“Shut up.”

“I’m just saying, you two are killing me here, sharing drinks and not saying how you feel. It’s torture to watch you every week, you know.”

“He’s like...twenty years older than me. Or something.”

“And?” She scoffs. “Age is but a number. You’re an adult. He’s an adult. It’s fine.”

You shrug. “He probably just sees me as a friend. He would’ve given me his number or something by now, right?”

“I dunno, men are weird. But he’s older, he’s probably scared to make a move, scared he’ll make you uncomfortable.”

You shrug again. You appreciate her trying to show you the possibilities, the logical reasons for why the two of you haven’t gone any further from the bar, but you aren’t sure what to believe. Plus, it’s been a week since you’ve seen him. The last time you two shared a drink, he didn’t say anything about a case.

So, he’s either on a case again, or has stopped coming.

The latter thought has you debating getting shitfaced wasted for the first time in years. Being blackout drunk would probably hurt you less than if it’s true that he’s just suddenly ditched you.

But what stops you is when Vanessa runs back over, eyes wide. “Just spotted your hottie.”

Oh, now he’s my hottie? “What?” You inwardly scold yourself for sounding a little too giddy at the prospect of him being here.

But if he’s here, why isn’t he sitting next to you?

Vanessa answers that one for you. “At a table in the back. He’s with friends I think.”

Friends? Never mind then on sharing a drink with him. “Oh, cool.”

Vanessa looks like she wants to say something, but is called away to another customer.

You don’t want to butt in with Aaron’s time with friends, so you stay at the bar, facing forward, nursing your one drink. Your mind conjures a plan in two seconds flat: finish your drink, head out for the night and discreetly look in Aaron’s direction, hopefully catch his eye, but if not, just go home and...shower and go to sleep.

Because if he wants to see you, he will. If he doesn’t, then he won’t.

Good plan.

Or at least, it is, until Aaron is sliding up beside you.

Your heart launches itself into your throat. You don’t say anything because you have no idea what to say. You were too busy assuming he’d rather be with his friends (which is...fine because it’s not like the two of you are...dating) to notice him walking up.

He says something for you, though. “Hey.”

Well, he might as well have stayed silent. What are you supposed to do with that?

“Hey,” you return casually, then offer a small smile. “Thought you’d be gone longer.” You operate on the assumption that he was on a case.

And he was. “This one actually worked in our favor.” He leans his elbows onto the bar, and naturally your eyes follow the movement. He’s not in a stuffy suit like the last few times, but he’s still in a dress shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

Arms. You’re a complete sucker for arms, and he’s practically teasing you like this.

“That’s good,” you comment, taking a sip from your drink. “Here to celebrate?”

“Yeah, we are.”

Nick brings Aaron his beer, thankfully, because you know Vanessa would’ve made some not-so-vague comment about Aaron being up here -- and maybe let an “accidental” Daddy comment slip.

To your surprise, Aaron sits down.

Your eyebrows furrow. “I thought you’re here with friends?”

Aaron looks over his shoulder and shrugs. “Just my team, yeah. I imagine they’re tired of me, though.”

You doubt that’s the case, but you know that if you say that, he’ll just brush it off.

“Not even gonna introduce me?” You tease instead, but you honestly want to smack yourself. You need to get a better hold on your word vomit. Inviting yourself is insanely rude.

Aaron’s eyebrows raise slightly, clearly not expecting you to say that — or to even want to be introduced to his team. “They’re a lot,” he says. “They’ll make a big deal out of this.”

“This?” You question, gesturing shortly between the two of you. “What is this?”

“What do you want it to be?” He asks carefully, averting his eyes shyly.

“Well,” you exhale dramatically, swirling your drink. “I think when you’ve shared a drink with a woman more than...twenty times, it should at least be considered dating.” You cut your eyes in his direction, your chest swelling as you see a grin breaking out on his face.

“I think I’m a bad date,” he says, confusing you. He chuckles, adding, “You don’t even have my number!”

“I’ll get it at the end of tonight,” you say, touching his arm gently for reassurance. “Come on, I think the back of my head is burning from how hard they’re staring.”

He looks through the corner of his eyes and sighs. “I’m sorry in advance for them.”

“No need to apologize,” you shrug. “Friends can be the worst. Vanessa has already started asking questions about you.” You nod toward the bartender that is feigning interest in clearing a space behind the bar.

“I figured,” Aaron murmurs. “Okay.” He slides off the stool, grabbing his beer in one hand, and holding his other one out to you.

Your heart jumps harshly when you take his hand. It’s warm and soft and secure, everything you want and need. You grab your drink in your free hand, giving Aaron’s hand a reassuring squeeze.

As soon as you and Aaron approach the table, the older gentleman is punching the one with tattoos. “Pay up.”

Aaron witnesses the cash exchange and stares at them tiredly. “Seriously, guys?”

Meanwhile, you’re holding back a giggle.

“Well, hello,” the woman with the colorful fashion sense says. “Introduce us!”

Aaron looks ready to pretend like he doesn’t know any of them, so you step up and say, “He told me you guys would be like this.”

That gets him laughing, and he finally says, “Y/N, this is Penelope, Emily, JJ, Spencer, Derek, and Dave.” Each person nods, waves, or smiles when their name is called.

“I’ll try to remember,” you joke. “But no promises.”

You squeeze Aaron’s hand in yours, trying to get him to loosen up. He does, barely, so when he tugs on your hand, silently asking you to step closer to him so his arm can fit around your waist, you oblige.

“What was the bet about?” You ask, nodding toward the men who exchanged cash a bit ago. It was Dave and Derek if you’re remembering names correctly.

“Rossi thought Hotch was going to bring you back over here, but I didn’t agree,” Derek says, nudging Dave’s arm. “I didn’t think you’d go for him.”

“Well, that’d be embarrassing if I went for someone else, considering we’re dating,” you chuckle, leaning your head back to look up at Aaron.

“Dating? So it’s official?” Emily asks, looking a little more excited than you thought any of them would.

“I think it was official the first time we met,” you snicker. “He pretended to be my husband so some dickhead would leave me alone.”

Aaron’s arm tightens around your waist at the memory.

“Okay,” Penelope grabs her drink, then moves over next to you, linking your arm with hers. “Hotch, we’re stealing her. We need details.”

Aaron doesn’t look like he wants to let go at all, but you press a kiss to his cheek. “Told you it’d be fine,” you whisper to him.

He surprises you by pressing a kiss on your lips. Midway through, your brain reminds you that this is technically your first kiss with him. And it’s in front of his friends. Swoon.

After so many dates with guys who were ashamed to be showing any sort of affection toward a woman, it’s nice to find a man who doesn’t care who sees his affection.

What can you say? After dating so many boys, it’s nice to finally find a man.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #hotch #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner one shot #hotch x reader #hotch x you #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner fluff #hotch fluff #fluff #cm #delicate songfic #because i can't NOT think of taylor swift when i write

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aereres · 3 years

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Loving You Is Easier Than I Had Expected - Matthew Tkachuk | Rock Band AU

Summary: Being one of the most popular rock band’s personal assistant was never easy: between rushing through traffic, running around, and listening to music, Chordback was part of Deborah Miller’s day-to-day life. As if her schedule wasn’t already busy enough, the band’s drummer - Matthew Tkachuk - stumbles into her life like a tornado, unexpectedly turning her world upside down.

A/N: Oh. My. God. This fic has truly become my baby. No Joke. I’ve worked on this for almost a month and I’m so proud of what it came out to be. Hope you enjoy it!

Word Count: 18,4k (damn)

Warnings: swearing (lots of it), anxiety, fighting, cockiness (also lots of it), drinking and partying, physical fights, wounds, blood, perverts, bad relationships with families, angst, mostly fluff

Chordback needed her. More than anything.

The thought made its way into Deborah’s head as she watched the band sluggishly walk around their shared penthouse, bags under their eyes as they scrambled for their luggage and important belongings. They moved without a care in the world, as if their schedule wasn’t packed with things to do, and she didn’t need to be a genius to realize that they had partied too hard the previous night.

“Move out of the way,” Noah muttered Johnny’s way, pushing past him with his suitcase in hand. “Deb, when’s the flight?”

“The flight isn’t the problem,” she stated, holding back a sigh as Elias came out of the bathroom with toothpaste still painting the side of his lips. “There’s a reason why you decided to fly privately,”

“Then why are we rushing?” Johnny said matter-of-factly, shaking his head sassily while he closed his own bass case.

“Because you have places to be after the flight,” the only woman in the house finally let her sigh out, pushing past the men to clean the white remnants off of Elias’ face, ignoring the smug smirk on his face. “Where’s Matthew, now?”

“Chucky!”

The room fell silent for a moment as she prayed - for anyone up there - that Matthew hadn’t fallen back asleep just when they needed to leave. His frame pushed past the threshold of his bedroom soon after his name was called, his signature drumsticks in hand as a relieved sigh left Deborah’s parted lips when their eyes met.

His phone was pressed to his ear, eyes far too awake for the early morning hour that made her wonder if he had gone to sleep the night before or just stayed up until sunset rolled around. His eyebrows were furrowed, the look she saw just so often painting wrinkles on his forehead as he stayed in silence.

“Taryn, I don’t have time for this right now. I’ll call you later,” the words were rushed, his voice dark and sporting a tip of annoyance before he pressed the red button on the screen. The phone was discarded in the back pocket of his jeans a second later, his eyes finding Deborah’s and making her realize she had been staring, pushing her back into action.

“Are we ready?” She asked, loud enough for everyone to hear. All she got as responses were a few grumbles, followed by the familiar sounds of the luggage the band carried around way too often moving through the penthouse.

The ride to the airport was spent in silence, a few moans and groans leaving the guys’ lips whenever something would be too loud or, in general, too exaggerated. Going through security was just as boring, with Deborah being able to share just a few hushed words with Jean - the band’s manager - before Elias or Noah would shut the two of them down.

“I told them not to drink too much,” Jean muttered under her breath, taking a look at the way Johnny’s eyes had closed. “God, is this what being a mother feels like?”

The older woman looked exasperated as she frantically walked around the boarding area, restraining herself from giving the tired men another lecture about partying like animals and how it affects their public image.

With her arms folded over her chest, Debby watched over the guys slightly older than her. She was still wondering why Matthew was carrying himself better than the rest of his friends, but it was the look on his face that truly left her curious.

His gaze was fixated on his phone, fingers tapping quickly as the wrinkles on his forehead stayed in their place. She was staring. Again. Frustrated with her own self, Deborah turned around to face the floor-to-ceiling windows of the airport, the early sun illuminating the world before your eyes.

She felt peaceful, mind clearing from the stress of the morning right before the flight attendants led her and the band towards the private jet. The luxury of its insides were nothing new to the personal assistant, and it was the same for the inappropriate glances the captain had been sending her way ever since she had started the job.

Noah dropped on one of the leather seats, eyes closing as he shut the world out, Johnny following his actions. Elias and Matthew settled in the seats opposite them, giving Deborah a clear view of the drummer’s features even from your position in the far back.

“We should get there on time,” Jean sighed, gracefully settling down next to the young woman just as the captain started to walk away. His eyes met Deborah’s one last time, a chill running up her spine when he sent her an unwanted wink, as he always used to.

To say she felt uncomfortable was an understatement.

With her heart beating loudly against her chest, she let her fingers play with the bottom of her shirt, eyes trained in front of herself. That man needs to take a hint, was all Deborah could think, so focused on blocking out the rest of the world she didn’t even notice Matthew’s eyes on her.

He had been glancing her way curiously ever since he’d noticed her body stiffen, right when she had walked inside the plane and greeted the conductor. Her demeanor had changed, and he wanted to know why.

He stayed in his seat, though. He watched from the distance, let his eyes trail over her features until she relaxed and hoped she wouldn’t notice. Because that’s what he’s always done: admire her from far away.

-----

“Listen, why can’t you just shut the fuck up and get in there?” Noah hissed, the heated conversation between him and Elias taking place inside the control room of the studio in New York. “You’ve argued about this track ever since I put it down- thank you, sweetheart,”

He grabbed the coffee Deborah handed him with a thankful smile, the flirty nickname not even impressing her anymore as she silently sat down on the closest couch.

“Dude, this track doesn’t represent us!” Elias said, pushing his sheet music around angrily before citing the words of the song. “Oh, why can’t I have you, sweet love of mine? Are you joking, Noah?! These lyrics are pop bullshit. New album is not gonna work if we write shit like this,”

The lead blew out a heavy sigh, fists turning into balls at his sides as his eyes closed. “Actually, you know what? I need to get some air,” was all Elias mumbled, pushing past his best friend with nothing but anger painting his features. Deborah was about to run after him to make sure everything was okay, but Noah’s hand dismissed her attempt.

“Let him go, he needs to cool off,”

The singer didn’t seem too pleased with his friend’s shenanigans, turning to face the empty booth in front of his eyes as another sigh turned his body stiff. Fights had occurred before: Deborah wasn’t new to arguments about where the group was going to eat, or even fights because of girls; but things had started to become too tense, too complicated between the four men.

“Chucky, your turn,” Noah mumbled, snapping the only woman in the room out of her trance to see Matthew walk past her, drumsticks in hand.

He was silent as he sat down in front of the drum set, pushing the pair of headphones over his nest of curls. His tattooed arms were in full display as he gave Noah a thumbs up, a cocky smile painting his lips. Matthew was the living description of a rock star, and Debby couldn’t keep her eyes off of him.

The drummer’s eyes closed as the music started playing in his ears, his drumsticks making a quick turn between his fingers before he began doing what he loved the most. Watching him play had Deborah mesmerized: the way he attentively looked in front of himself to catch Noah’s reactions, or just the movements of his hands as he gave his everything into the performance, even if his only audience were her and Noah.

Deborah was lost in his gaze, his light, stormy eyes making her heart skip a beat. The sounds coming from him came to a halt before she knew it, a satisfied smirk coating his lips as he waited for Noah’s judgment.

It was silent for a few seconds, heavy breathing coming from the singer as he revived the moment and the melody in his head. “Jesus, Matt,” he breathed into the speaker, trying to muffle the shock in his features by batting his eyelids. “You got it perfect on the first time, damn,”

Matthew’s smirk grew bigger, taking its usual cocky mark as he stood up and finally noticed the assistant. When he strutted back inside the control room to grab his belongings, he snickered at her mesmerized gaze.

“Close your mouth before you catch flies, honey,” was all he said, cocking his brow as his smug smile still sat on his lips. The remark had Deborah’s face turn into a scowl, his cocky words engraving themselves in her mind as he walked away.

She bit her lip as she turned back around to face Noah, trying to push Matthew and his cockiness out of her head, with no success. The lead, on the other hand, looked in distress: he was hunched over the console, clearly in his own head as silence engulfed the two of them in a stressful hug.

“Tell me you know how to play the guitar,” he mumbled, rubbing his tired eyes as he turned around to face Deborah. “Or at least how to book a place for us in a bar, tonight,”

“I can do the latter,” she sighed, knowing that Noah’s plans to finish the song would need to involve a night out, alcohol, and girls willing to drool all over Elias’ charm.

“And please, come out with us, Deb,” he continued. “Jean doesn’t want things to go too wild, so we might need you to keep us on track,”

She held back a sigh. Her plans for a relaxing night at the hotel had been crushed. Again. Though a night by herself looked way better than a packed club, Deborah’s job was calling, and she couldn’t refuse.

“Alright, I’ll be there,” she said, taking her phone out of her bag to start the search for the night’s location. “I’ll text you the details,”

“Drinks are on us,”

Debby’s ears felt like they were going to bleed soon, and the headache was making her head throb so hard she was hoping not to faint in the middle of the most popular club in New York.

The VIP area was everything she had expected it to be: leather couches that probably cost more than her apartment back in Calgary, enough drinks to make an army drunk, and the entire female population of the city. What could she say? It was Chordback worthy.

Elias’ cheeks were tinted a dark shade of red, eyes gleaming even in the darkness of the club as he held two blondes close to his body. The smirk Deborah knew so well was painting his lips - the one he reserved for flirting purposes only - as she watched him charm another set of girls in his hotel bed.

He was the second oldest in the band, but it hadn’t taken the assistant years to realize his maturity level wasn’t what every girl on the internet expected it to be. Clad in his tight, pitch-black skinny jeans and shirt - not exactly what people would expect a rock star to dress like -, he knew how to attract girls.

Noah had tried to convince him to record his guitar solo the moment their drinks were placed in front of them, but he had ended up with no success when the guitarist had left the table mid-conversation to go dance. The lead’s patience was running low, and Debby was sure his night wasn’t going to turn out as good as he had thought it would.

If that wasn’t enough, she felt stared at. Everywhere she went, a pair of eyes was following her. Debby would turn around to find scowls coloring the groupies’ faces, their orbs giving her disgusted once-overs whenever she’d go as far as to grasp Noah’s arm to avoid falling over, or even lean close enough to ask where Matthew had gone. She had never liked being the center of attention, hence why she had decided to work behind the scenes.

By the time midnight hit, though, she had had enough. The day had been tiring, the club was anything but enjoyable, and the glaring had gone from bearable to annoyingly uncomfortable. Almost stomping her way towards the couch, Debby’s arms folded over her own chest as she stood before Matthew Tkachuk’s relaxed body.

“Okay, I’m done with this bullshit,” she yelled loudly enough to be heard over the thumping bass of the music. “Do I have something on my face?”

Matthew’s smirk paired with his arched eyebrows did its job at making the younger girl feel embarrassed. In some ways, it sent her back to the days in high school, where the popular girls only needed one of their disgusted glances to make her shut herr mouth and feel embarrassed.

Deborah ignored his expression, waiting for a response as a girl sat next to him - so close she was almost straddling his lap. “No? Why would you think that?”

“Because everyone is staring at me as if I have shit smeared all over my face,”

The words snatched a chuckle out of his system, tongue wetting his lips as he gave Debby’s body a once-over. “They think you’re a new one. One of them,”

Her eyebrows furrowed as she tried to unravel his riddle, but nothing seemed to make sense in her mind. “What is that supposed to mean?”

“They think you’re a new groupie, that you’re stealing their place,”

“I’m not a fucking groupie,” she said, confusion clear in her features as she watched him sling his arm over the girl at his side. “I’ve been your PA for two years now!”

All Matthew did was shrug, smirking as he watched the look of annoyance spread over the personal assistant’s face. She was done. She wanted to leave the busy club behind with all the nasty glares and go back to the hotel to sleep.

Skimming past sweaty bodies, she reached Noah’s side after a few minutes. She had expected him to be having fun, but his features were still sporting a bothered scowl. “Noah!”

His attention snapped towards her in a second, his eyes boring into Deborah’s as he waited for her to speak up. “I’m heading to the hotel, I can’t stand this club anymore,”

A small nod was all she got in response, her eyes falling among the crowd to see Johnny making out with a smaller brunette, his hair sticking all over the place. Glancing towards the side of the room, she found Elias sitting on the couch, enjoying the sloppy kisses being spread all over his neck by the two blondes from earlier. Matthew, on the other hand, was still sitting on the couch - this time without his companion - his light orbs focused on Noah and their assistant.

“Can you please keep an eye on the rest of the guys?” She asked Noah, looking up at him as she waited for his response. He gave you a curt nod. “And don’t stay out too late,”

She left the club soon after, strutting out of the packed room with relief. Debby still felt eyes on herself, but not the ones of the rabid fans that had hated her since the moment she had stepped inside the room. Matthew’s eyes.

They watched her walk away, ignoring the pair of manicured hands touching his arm to catch his attention. He had been the reason why everyone was looking at her, and it wasn’t hard to tell. Yet, she was oblivious.

They had thought Deborah was a groupie because of the way he looked at her, because what his eyes held whenever he’d let himself glance her way wasn’t just curiosity. It was fondness, hunger, a cocktail of emotions that he had been trying to avoid for his own sake.

But, that time, he had lost at his own game.

“What the hell were you thinking?!”

Jean’s voice was sharp, so shrill it sent bolts of pain through Deborah’s temples. She had watched the scene unfold in front of your eyes, starting with the unexpected awakening in the middle of the night, ending with all the band members getting lectured by their agent.

The woman in her forties looked like she was about to tug her dark hair off of her scalp, an angry look on her face as she looked at the men sitting in front of her. “Jean, calm down. It was just a fight,”

“Don’t tell me to calm down, boy!” Jean pointed her finger sharply at his face, nostrils flaring. “Just a fight, Elias?! It’s all over the internet!”

Guilt washed over Debby as she took in Noah’s beat-up face, including his cut lip and purplish left eye; Matthew, next to him, wasn’t doing any better. She was supposed to be there, to keep an eye on the guys.

Jean had woken her up in a rush an hour after coming back to the hotel, mumbling under her breath as she dragged Deborah to her personal room. Chordback was already sitting on the edge of her bed, their eyes cast on the floor as the assistant noticed their bruises and cuts.

“I hate to say this, Elias, but you’ve been causing problems for the past month,” Jean sighed, rubbing her forehead with the palm of her hand as her tired eyes focused on the landscape out of the hotel’s window. “First the schedule, then Noah’s song, now whatever happened at the club,”

She let another sigh slip past her lips before her voice took a gentler tone. “John, what happened?”

There was a beat before the bass player spoke, and Deborah took a moment to examine his face. He was by far the one that hadn’t been affected by the fight, at all. “I- uh… I don’t know,”

The assistant had to refrain from holding back a sigh herself, her tense body language catching Elias’ eye. “Why are we the only ones getting lectured? Deborah was supposed to stay with us,”

“This is not about Debby,” Jean stated harshly, sending him a glare. “She wasn’t getting paid to follow you at the club, and she had every right to leave when she felt like it. John, keep going,”

“I said I don’t know anything,”

“Matthew?”

The curly-haired man sighed, his head lifting upwards just then to let his eyes meet the wall briefly. “I was talking with a girl, people started yelling, and I heard Elias talking shit about Noah’s song”

Deborah’s stomach filled with an unknown feeling when he mentioned a girl, sending her head in a spiral to ask herself what the hell was she experiencing. That wasn’t supposed to happen.

“And I just couldn’t take it,” Matthew stopped, his fingers ghosting over the cuts on his knuckles. “Man, that’s a heartfelt song and you went around to talk shit about it to strangers,”

Elias kept his mouth shut, jaw clenching as his friend continued talking. “Noah and Johnny also came in, but just in time to separate us,”

“Then what happened to your face, Noah?” Jean asked, concern evident in her voice.

“I- uh… I was seeing red,” Matthew mumbled, silence filling the room soon after the words left his mouth. Deborah was left to look at a desperate Jean - clearly close to having a mental breakdown - and hope things would get better by the time morning would roll in.

Her mind, though, couldn’t focus on anything but Matthew. He looked beaten up, both physically and mentally; he looked like he was holding so much on his shoulders, so much pressure she wanted to relieve him of.

“Matthew, John,” Jean sighed, looking behind his shoulders at the two men briefly. “You can go get some sleep. You too, Debby,”

She had never shuffled out of a room that quickly in her entire life, the tension being so overwhelming she needed a breath of fresh air. Johnny and Matthew were silent as they stepped out of the room, a physical and emotional distance separating them as they parted ways.

The moment was awkward, Matthew turning around just in time to see his friend shut the door of his room behind himself, a sigh leaving his lips. His eyes met Deborah’s for a quick second, a wave of shame flowing through them.

In some way, she felt like part of that shame was directed at herself too: his snarky, cocky words were still impressed in her mind, but she could see his regret. She wished her heartbeat hadn’t started picking up, but looking in his eyes, she couldn’t help it.

He was asking for forgiveness, and who was she to not give it to him? He was the only person she couldn’t stop thinking about day and night, anyway, for some reason.

“Come with me,” Deborah whispered, her voice shallower than she had thought it would be as her hand caught his. He didn’t ask questions when she opened her room’s door, he didn’t speak a word as she led him towards the en-suite bathroom, and he didn’t run away when she made him sit on the edge of the bathtub.

More silence settled between the two of them as Debby grabbed the first-aid kit the hotel supplied, wetting a cotton ball with disinfectant before letting her hand grab Matthew’s again.

There was a soft hiss when she first let the material touch his bloody skin, his jaw clenching as he closed his eyes. “I feel like a monster,”

His words made the woman’s heart clench, her stomach turning into jelly. “You’re not a monster, Matthew,”

“I hit my best friend because I couldn’t hold myself back,” he breathed out, voice unexpectedly shaky as he kept his gaze on the tile floor. “I’m a monster,”

Deborah sighed, letting her fingers grasp his chin so he could lift his head up. Their eyes met as she prepared another cotton ball, ready to clean the cut on his bottom lip as they let silence fill the room.

Cradling his head in her hands, Debby took a few minutes to wipe some dried blood off his skin. Matthew was tired, she could tell from the way his eyes were struggling to stay open, but regret was keeping him up, keeping his brain active.

She let herself gaze at him for a small moment before patting his shoulder. “Get some sleep, Matt,” she whispered. “Really,”

He nodded gingerly, following her towards her door. “Thank you, Deb,”

“Don’t worry about it,”

He took a moment to admire her, letting one of his hands gently push a strand of stray hair out of her face. Her body heated up, heart rate quickening as she watched him leave silently, a small smile on his lips.

In a trance, Deborah went back to bed, sleep not on her agenda anymore. Her mind kept repeating the moment she had had with Matthew, every single second of it, and it felt new, unexpected.

Matthew Tkachuk was making her feel things she had never felt before, and everything was so unknown to her.

That night, Deborah struggled to fall back asleep.

-----

“You’re gonna catch a cold,”

The evening air was making Deborah’s hair flow around herself, her eyes focusing on the sunset before turning around to meet Matthew’s. A small smile formed on her lips, her arms folding over her chest. “Nah, my body won’t betray me like that,”

The chuckle that left his lips was enough to push the butterflies in her stomach back to life. His body reached Debby’s side as he focused too on the setting sun disappearing behind the New York skyscrapers.

“Truly the best time of the day,” she mumbled under her breath. “Sunsets are just so beautiful,”

Matthew sent a quick glance her way. “But the night,” was all he said, voice holding a tone of fondness as he looked in front of himself. “The night is just so beautiful,”

“The night is lonely,” the assistant pointed.

“The night is peaceful,” he corrected her, the smile on his lips so tender it made her melt. “Everyone goes to sleep at night, and it gives you time to think,”

There was a beat of silence as she took in his words, heart racing as she unconsciously scooted closer to him. The question was risky. It rushed through Deborah’s lips, and her eyes almost closed in fear of rejection. “What do you think about? At night, I mean,”

“I think about good memories,” his answer was quick, no sign of discomfort on his face. “About my childhood, or people I miss,”

He glanced her way with a smile on his lips, the air from the top of the building making his curls move slightly. “And what do you think about? At night, I mean,”

“Life, I guess,”

There was a nod from his side, his eyes turning back to focus on the landscape as another round of silence filled the distance between the two of them. Deborah’s mind started to think about his words, pushing her away from reality as she tried to keep herself at bait. You weren’t his type, and what about Taryn?

The identity of Taryn was still unknown to the girl, but something was telling her she was eventually going to find out. She was so into her own world that she barely registered the soft material of Matthew’s leather jacket slipping onto her shoulders, his eyes glancing her way.

His body leaned against the railing of the terrace, slipping unbelievably closer to hers as the two of them admired each other. “God, Deborah,” he whispered, letting one of his hands graze over her cheekbone. Her heart was beating out of her chest so loudly she feared he could hear it, his palm slowly cupping her cheek as he let his eyes admire her. “I wish I could have met you earlier,”

His lips were extremely close to Debby’s, so close she barely even paid attention to what he had said. As the words registered, she opened her mouth to ask for an explanation, but the ringing of his phone interrupted the moment.

His eyelids shut in annoyance as he slipped the device out of his back pocket, answering as soon as he could. “I’ll be down in a sec,”

He was off the railing before he even ended the call, leaving Deborah on her own on the terrace of the building that hosted Chordback’s recording label. He turned around just when she called his name, voice strained by the sudden end of just what had been about to happen.

“Your jacket, Matt,” she pointed, starting to shrug it off just so she could hand it back to him. His hand rose in the air, putting her movements to a halt.

“Keep it,” he said, smiling gingerly before opening the door to head back inside the warmth of the building. “It looks better on you anyway,”

-----

“I wanna do it again,” Johnny said from the booth, looking at Noah as he strummed lightly his bass. “I fucked up the last part,”

From her spot on the smallest - and most uncomfortable - couch she had ever seen, Deborah watched Noah nod his head, pressing a few buttons on the console. The bass player’s head started bobbing when the music started filling his headphones, eyes almost closing as he started playing his melody.

Her tired eyes fell down on her phone, the brightness of its screen almost making her curse out. It was well past midnight, and Deborah’s day had been more than busy: the boys had to record a podcast episode with a famous producer, and she hadn’t even had a moment to settle down at the studio before a call from Jean pushed her up on her feet and around New York.

Her head was pounding, but she wasn’t allowed to leave the studio until the band decided to finish their session and go back to the hotel, so she sat in silence next to Matthew. He was silent too, glancing in front of himself as the faint sound of Johnny’s bass sent him in a trance.

As Debby’s eyes struggled to stay open, she stretched her back, holding back a moan when she felt just how tense her muscles were. Her movements snapped Matt out of his daydreaming, his orbs finding hers in the dimly lit studio as she settled back into her initial place.

“You okay?” He asked, voice uncharacteristically soft as he kept his gaze trained on the assistant.

“Just tired,” was all she said, pushing out a sigh as she folded her arms over her chest. Who turned on the AC, for fuck’s sake?

“Johnny prefers working in the cold,” Matthew murmured, almost reading her thoughts. “You want me to turn off the AC?”

Deborah shook her head, trying to hide a veil of shock at his unexpected words, kindness spilling out of them like a fountain. “No, no. It’s fine, don’t worry,”

Though she had been trying as hard as she could to keep herself awake, her body found itself scooting closer to Matthew’s, his warmth making her eyelids finally close. Debby’s head dropped to his shoulder, finally letting her relax for the first time of the day. A content sigh left her lips.

Matthew’s heart was beating out of his chest, emotions he had felt just once making him shiver. One of his arms wrapped itself around the girl’s waist, holding her close and hoping the moment would never end.

She was so close, so soft in his hold he never wanted to let go.

So he closed his eyes, putting his world to a stop just so he could hold her for a little more, just so he could imagine what it would feel like to be hers.

He was woken up after what felt like hours, Noah’s smirk being the first thing he saw after the midnight nap. Deborah’s head was on his chest, eyes closed and a relaxed smile painting her lips as she peacefully slept.

“And then I’m the obvious one,” Noah joked, referring to all the chirps he had gotten for always looking smitten, when he liked someone. “Should I be waiting for a love song from you?”

“Shut the fuck up, man,” Matthew hissed, a smile forming on his lips even after the chirps. “What time is it?”

“One a.m.”

“Damn,” Matthew sighed, rubbing his eyes before looking down at Debby again. “I’ll wake her up. Just wait outside for us,”

“Don’t fuck on the couch,” Noah joked, making Matthew roll his eyes. The lead shut the door behind him and Johnny, leaving Deborah and the man able to make her heart skip a beat on their own.

Matt took a moment to admire her peaceful state, one of his calloused hands cupping her cheek before pushing a strand of hair out of her face. The movements had Deborah stirring, her eyes slowly opening just to see - and feel - Matthew close to her.

With her cheeks burning, she pushed herself off of him, an awkward chuckle leaving her parted lips. “I’m, uh- I’m sorry,” Debby stuttered, running a hand through her hair. “How long was I out for?”

“An hour, maybe?”

She looked down at her phone to check the time, nodding her head when she saw the digits at the top of the screen. “Everyone is done?”

“They’re waiting outside,” he said, voice tender as he watched her rise to her feet. With a nod, Deborah grabbed her purse and let her eyes meet with his. She didn’t know what to say, so the two of them were left in silence before she muttered something and left the room in a rush, heart beating quickly against her rib cage.

By the time Debby reached the rest of the group outside - Elias still missing in action -, she was faced with grins. Nobody talked, though, and by the time she shut the hotel door behind herself, she was a nervous mess.

What the fuck had just happened?

-----

The last morning in New York was sunny. Deborah’s sunglasses barely could do their job as she sat between the band on the outside of the overpriced café they loved. The slight breeze was bringing the first few hints of summer in the busy air of the city, and the woman enjoyed her last moment in the Big Apple by taking a sip of the warm drink sitting in front of her.

It was the first time Chordback actually sat down together after the fight between Noah and Elias, and it felt refreshing. Johnny and Matthew - who was sitting beside her - were talking, just like the old times, and Elias was taking a moment to admire the city. Noah, on the other hand, wasn’t paying much attention to his background: his eyes were focused on his phone, a smile that Debby could only refer to as smitten painting his lips.

“So, what are the plans for the day, hun?” Elias caught the assistant’s attention, the pet name making her chuckle.

“Hun? Oh my God,” she giggled, pushing the conversation behind herself before opening her mouth again. “We gotta catch the flight back to Calgary and then you’re free,”

A whistle came from Johnny, happy chuckles filling their surroundings. “A day off? Wow,”

“No partying, though,” Deborah warned, pointing a finger Elias’ way, who shrugged innocently. The moment was short-lived, being interrupted by a younger fan asking for a picture. The guys all put on a smile, rising to their feet and getting in position. Noah took more time than necessary to put down his phone, but eventually joined his friends and greeted the girl, who looked like she was about to faint.

By the time the photo was taken, the girl was running off to her family holding back happy tears. The band members sat back in their places to finish their breakfast, silence thickening at the table.

Deborah’s eyes met Matthew’s, remembering what had happened during the band’s last studio session, her cheeks heating up. There hadn’t been any moments where the two of them could discuss not only the cuddling, but also the time when she had helped him clean his wounds up after the fight at the club, and Debby was feeling torn.

She didn’t know why, but in some way she didn’t want to discuss the events. She thought it was ridiculous that she couldn’t figure out what she was feeling, what Matthew was doing to her. Debby couldn’t figure out her own feelings, and figuring his out was more difficult than she had expected.

Her thoughts were interrupted by the devil himself, pushing her back to reality with his voice. “Hanifin, what the hell are you doing with that phone?” Matt teased, his signature smirk painting his lips.

“I, uh-” the lead stuttered, finally putting his device on top of the table as he looked up at the assistant and his friends. “I was just sending a text,”

“Just one?” Johnny chirped, chuckling when Noah’s cheeks turned a dark shade of red. “I think he’s hiding something from us, guys,”

“I sent the demo of ‘As Long As I’m With You’ to the person it’s written about,”

There was a beat of silence as Elias, Matthew, and Johnny all took in their lead’s words. “‘As Long As I’m With You’ as in the song we fought over?” Elias asked, voice filled with surprise as he waited for a response. Noah just nodded, biting back a smile as his eyes met with Matthew’s.

“Chucky knew,” he mumbled. “That’s why he punched you in the face when you talked shit about it,”

“Oh! That’s what he meant with ‘heartfelt’,” Elias laughed, shaking his head before breathing out a guilty sigh. “I’m sorry, man. Should have just kept my mouth shut,”

“I told you, it’s fine,” Noah said, his eyes glancing down towards his phone when the screen lit up, the guys finally finishing their breakfast.

“What’s her name, man?”

“Aleena,” just the mention of her name made the lead smile. “She’s back in Calgary,”

“And you didn’t tell us?!” Matt exclaimed, dramatically holding a hand to his chest. “This one hurts, man,”

“Did she like it?” Elias asked.

“The demo? She loved it,” Noah chuckled, cheeks turning uncharacteristically red. He gulped down his coffee, eyes glancing Deborah’s way as he stood up. “Ready to go?”

And by the time they reached the airport, the band was back as if the fights, bickering, and internal annoyance hadn’t happened. She had always been surprised at how strong their bond actually was that she found herself hurting when the thoughts of them possibly separating even crossed her mind.

The wait at the gate was not as long as the one from weeks prior, the private plane already waiting for everyone by the time they had gone through security. Deborah had to repress a groan when she realized the pilot was going to greet her, just like every time.

His dark eyes were on her before she could even walk inside the aircraft, the edges of his mouth turning upwards into a creepy smirk as he shook Johnny’s hand. It felt like a routine: Debby would greet the two kind flight assistants, share a knowing look with them before sticking her hand out to shake the pilot’s. The wink he sent her way wasn’t new, and neither was his hand squeezing her waist before he walked back to his seat.

Her eyes portrayed the usual emptiness they always did after entering the plane, and Matthew was quick to notice. That time, though, he knew why she turned the world off as soon as they’d board. He had been guessing Deborah was afraid of heights, or that flying made her sick, but he would have never guessed it was because of the pilot.

He elbowed Noah without even thinking, his eyes still glancing the assistant’s way as his best friend hissed. “What the fuck, Chucky?!”

“We need to talk,”

Noah sent Matthew a confused glare, eyebrows scrunched together as he followed the drummer’s gaze. He looked at Deborah, then back at his bandmate with a look of confusion still coloring his face. “Well, talk, then,”

“Later,” Matthew mumbled. “We’ll talk when we land, this needs to stay private,”

Noah nodded his head, trying to ignore his friend’s weird manners before pushing his earbuds back in. Matthew, on the other hand, stared at the girl a few seats away. Anger made his skin boil as he thought about the man that had harassed her. If the fucker hadn’t been driving the plane she was on, he would have already been dead.

The newfound protectiveness sent a thrill of shock through his spine, but he ignored it. Deborah didn’t deserve it, and the man was going to regret every single glance he had sent her way. You don’t mess with a Tkachuk, Matthew thought. The man was going to pay.

-----

The city of Calgary held something Deborah couldn’t quite place. In her eyes, it looked like home.

Home, though, was back in Arizona - the complete opposite of what Calgary is. With the hot sun burning your shoulders almost the entire year and the endless summers, Arizona was the place Debby went back to just for her family. She had always preferred the cold, after all.

Thanksgiving was around the corner, the Canadian air was starting to thicken with the winter cold, and home was calling. And she was single, again. It wasn’t because of her parents - they truly knew she was one to put work before anything else -, but rather the rest of her family.

Deborah had grown up knowing that her father’s side of the family was ruthless when it came to getting back home alone, and it had been bothering her ever since she had first moved out. The snarky remarks coming from her aunt and her husband had always been following Deborah around the walls of her childhood home and, no matter how hard she tried to push them away, she just couldn’t.

And, God. She hated it so much.

In some way, it made the woman want to spend the holiday on her own, away from the prying eyes of her relatives and away from the stress they caused. But she loved her family too much, and leaving them behind wasn’t an option.

When Deborah walked inside the band’s penthouse, she was met with unexpected silence. The entry hall was tidy, the guys’ respective coats hanging one next to the other; the kitchen was clean, plates and cups stored in their designated cupboard; the living room, on the other hand, wasn’t empty.

Matthew was sitting on one of the two couches, a notepad in his hands as he looked out of the window. His eyes were glancing at the gray clouds painting the sky, covering the first few rays of sunlight of the morning.

“Good morning,”

Her voice seemed to shake him out of his trance, body snapping around to meet her eyes as she slowly pushed her coat down her shoulders. “‘Morning, D,”

“Where are the guys?”

“Still sleeping,” Matthew mumbled, watching Debby’s every move as she let her purse sit on one of the kitchen stools. She made her way towards the couch, sitting down next to him as she tried to ignore the tension rising between the two of them, just like it always did.

The trip to New York had seemed to make a big difference in what their friendship - if you could even call it that - was, even if anything barely happened. Seeing him play, falling asleep on his shoulder, taking care of him after the fight - in some way, it all made a difference, and Debby was sure Matthew could tell, too.

That night she had fallen asleep in the car and he carried her to her hotel room? The tea he had brought her that one morning when she was feeling sick? And the talk. The sunset talk.

He didn’t seem to notice the way her heart beat for him and him only, he was so oblivious it made Deborah frustrated.

“How are you doing?” He asked, the soft thud of his notepad hitting the floor making the assistant bat her eyelashes and bringing her back to reality.

“I’m okay,” she admitted, running a hand through her hair as her eyes focused on him. “Just thinking about Thanksgiving,”

He chuckled. “You going back home?”

“I mean, I probably should head back to Arizona,” she sighed, shaking her head before opening her mouth again. “I’m just not ready to have the ‘oh, why can’t a pretty girl like you find a good man to marry?’ talk again,”

“Oh, God,” the man in front of her chuckled. “Been there,”

“What about you? Are you going home?”

There was a beat before his voice darkened, eyes glazing with something Deborah couldn’t quite place as his hand toyed with the hem of his shirt. “No,”

He let his answer linger in the air, the penthouse turning silent again as he stared ahead of himself. From Debby’s spot next to him, it seemed like he was in his thoughts, his lips pushed in a straight line as he let the emptiness of the house hit the two of them.

Another beat. “My family and I are not too close,”

“Oh,” she murmured, eyebrows furrowing as she let her eyes focus on something else other than his face. He looked saddened, in some kind of way, but mainly pissed. “So, uh- spending it with anyone special?”

“Oh no,” his tense jaw slowly turned back to normal as he repressed a chuckle. “I’m single,”

Then who the hell was Taryn?

He seemed to catch on to Deborah’s confused gaze, an eyebrow cocking as he looked at her. “What?”

“Nothing,” her cheeks heated up, embarrassment making her heartbeat quicken as shee looked at her fingers. The look on his face spurred the woman on, her voice becoming shallow as she spoke. “I just- I heard you talking to a girl named Taryn, so I just kind of assumed-”

His laughter interrupted her, waking up the mass of butterflies in her stomach just when his head lulled back against the couch’s headrest. “Oh my God,” he laughed, holding his stomach before looking back at her. “Taryn is my sister,”

“Oh,”

Deborah erupted in a fit of laughter too, shaking her head before letting it lean against his shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I don’t even know why I thought that,”

“Don’t worry,” he chuckled. “Some groupies went as far as to call her to tell her to leave me alone,”

The confession made her eyebrows scrunch. Girls did that to him?

Silence settled back between the two of them as Debby’s eyes focused on the city starting to wake up outside the window. The thought that crossed her mind felt wrong from the moment she even tried to phrase it. But there’s nothing worse than spending Thanksgiving on your own, was all her heart could say.

She glanced quickly at Matthew, who was scribbling something on his notepad. The light redness painting his cheeks had her heart clenching with longing, her hands tingling, begging to run through his messy curls. He was truly breathtaking, Deborah couldn’t get enough of him.

“Come to Arizona with me,” the words were rushed, unexpected. They had her surprised when they left her own mouth, and Matthew’s shock was evident as he turned his head around to glance her way.

“I-”

“Spending Thanksgiving on your own fucking sucks,” Debby pointed out. “And I won’t let you experience that on my watch,”

He laughed, shaking his head before letting their eyes meet. “I don’t want to intrude,”

“You would never intrude,” the woman said, voice gentle as she restrained herself from cradling his cheek. “And my mom has been begging to meet you guys ever since I started working for you,”

That confession made a laugh ripple out of his lips, the sound making her body feel alive. “So? Yes or no?”

There was a moment where he let his gaze meet Debby’s, his fondness hugging her warmly as she momentarily forgot how to speak.

“Only if the tickets are on me,”

She frowned jokingly, biting her lip to hide a smile before speaking. “We’re set,”

-----

“Oh my God, I missed you so much,” Deborah’s mother wept as she left her arms around her daughter’s frame, the crispy wind of Thanksgiving Eve making the afternoon air unexpectedly chilly. “I told you, you should come home more often,”

Debby chuckled at her comment, pushing herself away from her mother to introduce Matthew - her boss and her date. She was fucked. “Mom, this is Matthew. He’s the drummer of the band I work for,”

“It’s so nice to meet you, Mrs. Miller. Thank you for having me,”

From the smile on her mother’s lips, Deborah knew she was sold. The older woman had never been one for tattoos, but Debby had caught her admiring Matthew’s full sleeves from the moment he had crossed her vision; he had helped his date carry her luggage, and she was sure her mom had also noticed that, hence why she was smiling at him as if he had just proposed to her only daughter.

“Come in already, guys. Grandma has just arrived, too,” she mumbled, waving a hand in the air as a signal for the two to get inside.

“Grandma?”

The sight of her sitting on the couch, eyes focused on knitting made Deborah almost tear up. Grandma was home. Her voice shook the elder out of her trance, her body slowly rising to its feet to embrace Deborah in a longing hug. “Oh, Peaches,” the nickname still held all the memories from her childhood, and her arms circling the assistant made her feel at peace. “I missed you,”

“I missed you, too, grandma,” Debby sniffled, pulling away to introduce Matt to her, too. Her grandmother’s eyes were curious as they scanned him, probably blocking out her granddaughter’s introduction to focus on him instead.

“Where are you from, son?” Her phrase - especially the name she gave Matthew, who was almost twice her height - had the youngest woman in the household repressing a giggle. Matthew, on the other hand, grew quite nervous.

“I was uh- born in Arizona, but grew up in St. Louis,”

The grandmother gave a curt nod, sitting back down on the couch and motioning for Debby to sit down next to her. Her mother joined the room with quick steps, her hand finding Matthew’s shoulder to push his eyes off of the woman that stole his breath away every passing day.

“Deb, I figured Matthew could stay in the basement? Would it be okay?”

The man in question nodded, a smile forming on his lips as he thanked Debby’s mother. He was led towards the stairs before she knew it, a reassuring smile being sent her way before she was left on her own with her grandma.

“He seems nice,” the older woman mumbled, eyes still focused on the hat she was making. “You said he plays the drums?”

“Yes, he’s great,”

There was a beat of silence before she looked up at her granddaughter, eyebrows wiggling jokingly. “You together?”

Deborah’s cheeks heated up, her head shaking quickly soon after as her eyes focused on her lap. There wasn’t a response from her grandmother, who silently went back to her previous tasks and letting her think.

What the hell were the two of them even doing?! Matthew was practically her boss, if something went wrong, she’d probably get fired, for God’s sake. Deborah’s life was literally walking on a thread: one wrong decision and she would be done.

No more working for Chordback, no more traveling with the band. No more Matt.

And she couldn’t let that happen. Her heart was beating for the drummer, and there was nothing she could do about it.

Whatever was going to happen during the holidays, she was hoping it wasn’t going to end everything between her and Matt before it even started. She wasn’t going to let that happen.

She felt like her happy ending might have been closer than she had thought.

The morning after Matthew and Deborah’s arrival was busier than the latter had expected. The loud noises coming from the kitchen woke her up from her deep, peaceful slumber, and by the time she made it downstairs, the house was in full swing.

Her mother and grandma were zooming around the family home, rushing around with pots and pans, not a care in the world when it came to waking up the rest of the household. Her father, on the other hand, was sitting at the kitchen island, a comical look of exasperation painting wrinkles on his face.

The stairs leading towards the basement weren’t empty either: a quite shocked - and still sleepy - Matt stood right on the last step, watching the net of nerves Deborah’s family had created unfold in front of his eyes.

“Well, good-fucking-morning,” the woman giggled, turning around just in time to catch him chuckle, his body clad in an old band tee and a pair of plaid pants she had never seen him wear. His arm lifted itself up in the air, hand signaling her to come closer before he could wrap the limb around her body, his relaxing scent filling her nostrils.

“Good morning,” he hummed, voice still hoarse after the multiple hours of sleep. “Looks pretty chaotic in here,”

“And you haven’t seen Christmas,” Debby giggled, the sound of his laughter making her heart skip a beat. “Dad’s having breakfast, I’m sure he won’t mind if we join,”

The curls on top of Matthew’s head bobbed along with his nod as he followed her towards the main source of sound - and chaos - in the household. Deborah translated her father’s grumble into what she could only guess was a ‘good morning’, and took it upon herself to make coffee for her and Matt.

Debby longingly watched him talk to her father as she waited for the warm beverage to get ready, realizing that with each day passing, she was falling for him even more. It was a shock to her, if she had to be honest. She was falling deeply in love with someone she hadn’t even shared a kiss with, but God, she was more than smitten.

The beeping of the coffee machine shocked her out of your lovesick trance, Deborah’s eyelashes batting a few times before she grabbed their mugs and headed towards the island.

“Yeah, the Oilers are definitely having a good season,” Matthew agreed to whatever her father had said. “Leafs have been doing pretty well too,”

“You’re right, son,”

“What are you talking about?” Debby asked, a smile on her lips as she sat next to Matthew.

“Hockey,” her father said, tipping his head back to finish his dark coffee. “Matthew told me his brother plays for the Senators,”

The girl’s eyes widened, searching for Matthew’s face. “Really?”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, eyes not moving from his coffee until he changed the conversation, leaving her utterly in the dark about his family situation. Deborah thought it was funny that just a few minutes prior, she was thinking she was falling in love with the man sitting beside her, when in reality she knew just a few things about his life. “So, uh- should I wear anything specific today?”

“Just something slightly elegant, mom doesn’t care too much,” she said, smiling when he nodded his head.

“Should I wear a tie?”

“Oh, God,”

“Hey, I brought one with me just in case!” He said, a hint of joking in his tone as he sipped on his coffee. “Ties are cool,”

“I’ve never seen you wear one in your life, Matt,” Deborah giggled. “And I’ve been working with you for two years,”

“Maybe I wear them in my free time, how could you know that?”

She laughed, shaking her head as the world came to a halt around them. It was just her and Matthew, joking in the kitchen at half-past-eight in the morning, voices still hoarse as they sipped on their coffee. Debby’s brain could only think that, maybe, she could get used to it.

By the time dinner rolled around, she felt nervous. She watched herself twirl one last time in front of her mirror, the flowered dress she was wearing moving with her as she breathed out a sigh.

Another Thanksgiving. Debby was secretly hoping it would be better than all the other holidays, and something in her was telling her it was going to be the best Thanksgiving of her life. Because Matthew came along.

Closing her childhood bedroom door behind herself, Deborah heard the familiar voices of her relatives coming from the first floor, her aunt’s shrill tone standing taller than the rest.

“And who’s the new addition to the family?”

Debby’s eyes widened, a muttered curse leaving her lips as she sprinted down the stairs, all the attention being lifted onto her when she almost fell face first in the middle of the living room.

“Debs! Happy Thanksgiving!”

The greetings were all quickly sent her way, followed by hugs and small talk as she greeted the new guests. Deborah’s aunt, though, didn’t take long before going back to Matthew, a mischievous look on her face as she gave him a once-over.

“Back to you, darling. New addition to the family? We haven’t met yet,”

“I’m Matthew,” Debby’s - well... - date said, a charming smile that would be able to make millions of girls swoon painting his lips. Your aunt’s hand moved in the air, spurring his presentation on in an embarrassing way. “I’m uh- I’m Deborah’s boyfriend,”

The silence that filled the room only highlighted the assistant’s shock even more. Matthew Tkachuk literally had told her entire family he was her boyfriend. What the actual fuck.

“Oh my God! And you weren’t gonna tell me, Debs?!”

Her aunt pulled her in a bone crushing hug, hopefully not noticing the panic evident on her features. “Finally! I thought you were going to stay single forever!”

Deborah pushed out a fake giggle, looking up at Matthew with confusion in her eyes. What she got in return was a wink, the smile on her fake-boyfriend’s lips spurring her to keep the act going.

“Dinner is served, everyone!”

Debby had to refrain herself from pushing out a sigh of relief, her hand lacing with Matthew’s as she tapped her mother’s shoulder. “I gotta talk to Matt, we will be back in a second, I swear,”

Without waiting for a response, Deborah pushed past the people surrounding them before reaching the closest bathroom, locking the door behind the two of them. “Matthew, what the hell are we doing?”

The chuckle that left his lips made her eyebrows furrow, arms wrapping over her chest. “This is no joke! Now my entire family thinks we’re together!”

“Let’s just act like we are, then,” he pointed, shoulders shrugging as he let his fingertips play with the edge of her dress. “You look beautiful, by the way,”

Ignoring the way her cheeks heated up and her heart started racing, Debby pushed him down to sit on the edge of the bathtub. “God, why did you do that?”

“You said you didn’t wanna face the usual nosy questions, I helped with that,” Matthew smirked, his hands inching higher until they ended up holding her waist. “All we need to do is act as if we’re in love, and that’s not hard,”

Normally, Deborah wouldn’t have paid much attention to his last remark, seeing how easy it had been for Noah to fake a relationship for PR once, but his tone held something. She couldn’t quite place it, but it made it sound like the words had a deeper meaning. On the other hand, he was right: acting like she was in love with him would be easier than expected, because she looked at him as if he hung the stars in the sky, and she couldn’t deny it.

Deborah smiled at the genius in front of her, though, taking one last look at his glacial eyes before letting their hands slip together.

“I knew you were trouble, Matthew Tkachuk,” but God, she loved him for it.

Dinner went better than expected, and for the first time in years, Thanksgiving brought a smile to Deborah’s lips. Was it because Matthew was by her side? She didn’t know. What she did know, though, was how good his arms around her felt, how addicting his lips on her cheek and temple were.

By the time her relatives left her house, Deborah was still buzzing. She had drunk a glass of wine, but she wasn’t buzzed on alcohol. She was buzzed on Matthew’s attention.

The two of them stood by her parents as they waved her aunt’s white car goodbye, his strong arm wrapped around her waist as he smiled oh so tenderly.

“Dad and I are heading to sleep,” Deborah’s mother mumbled. “We can take care of the dishes tomorrow morning,”

“Alright,” was all the daughter said. “I’ll be upstairs in a few,”

Matthew wished her mother goodnight, tugging Debby along inside the household as soon as the older woman reached the top of the stairs. His eyes filled with their familiar glimmer Debby knew too well, a smile forming on her lips as he twirled her in his arms. “We should get into acting,”

“Totally,” she giggled, her arms wrapping themselves around his neck as their eyes stayed in contact. “We slayed it,”

“I knew we would,” he admitted, head so close to hers his breath fanned over her nose. “Loving you is easier than I had expected, Deborah,”

The words were unexpected, but they engraved themselves in the woman’s mind as soon as her brain recepted them. The butterflies in her stomach were making every single muscle in her body tingle, and when one of Matthew’s hands cupped her cheek, Deborah feared her legs would give up on her.

His scent invaded her senses the second he came closer, his lips ghosting over hers as the newfound moment became sweet, tender. “Can I kiss you?”

The sudden ring of his phone snatched them out of their trance, Deborah’s lungs inhaling sharply after what felt like hours. The two of them separated, her cheeks feeling warmer than normal as she watched him look at the screen with what she could only call annoyance.

The device was vibrating in his hand, but he looked like he was contemplating on whether picking up the call or not. The screen read ‘Dad’, and the grimace on his face was what made Debby’s heart clench.

“You should take it,” the words left her mouth before she could even stop them.

“I probably should,” was all he mumbled, sending her a quick look before letting his eyes focus back on the device. Just as he swiped right, Debby pushed herself to the tip of her toes, pressing a swift, lingering kiss on his cheek.

“Goodnight, Matthew,”

As she made her way up the stairs and towards her room, Deborah let her cold fingertips graze the spot where his hand had rested, right on her cheek. She felt like a teenager in love again, a frustrated one, though.

Though they had almost had their first kiss together twice, something had always been in the way. First Noah, then Matthew’s father. Why was everyone keeping her from kissing him?

She wanted nothing more than to wrap her arms around him again and let their lips meet, but the universe had been thinking otherwise for what felt like ages. As Debby sat on her bed - still too happy to give up on all the newfound emotions -, she wondered what his lips would taste like, what it would feel like to be his.

After another moment of thinking, she forgot about everyone and everything and rushed down the stairs. The first floor was empty, but the lights in the basement were still casting shade over the stairs, inviting her to step closer.

As she rushed down that smaller flight of stairs too, Debby wondered if it was the right time to do it. To finally live her life a little. She swung the door open, Matthew’s light eyes rushing up from his dark phone screen to her face, a look of shock evident in them.

He sprung to his feet and caught her right before she could fall in his arms. She took a second to wrap her arms around his neck, letting their lips meet in the sweetest kiss she’d ever experienced.

His lips felt softer than clouds, so gentle against hers she thought she could faint; his arms - tight around her waist - were keeping Deborah close to his body, their warmth familiar. Everything about the moment was perfect, from the way their bodies fit together, to the way she started to struggle for breath.

They parted ways just when they couldn’t take it anymore, their foreheads meeting tenderly as they caught their breaths. “Wow,” the breathed exclamation made Debby giggle, Matthew’s plush lips painting with a smile as he admired her. “That was-”

“That was fucking awesome,” she finished his line, giggling at how childish she sounded. With a shake of her head, she let herself untangle from him, her body missing his warmth. “I uh- I probably should go to sleep,”

Deborah’s gaze was stuck on her feet, rising to meet his eyes just when his thumb and pointer finger lifted up her chin. There was a second before he leaned down to give the woman one last sweet kiss, his lips tenderly moving against hers before parting again.

“Good night, Debby,”

Deborah wrapped her cardigan tighter around herself as she leaned on the railing of the balcony overlooking her garden, watching the sunset longingly. The silence surrounding her was peaceful, and she felt relaxed, happy to be free for one last day.

“You’re gonna catch a cold, again,”

Debby turned around to face Matthew with a smile on her lips, jokingly rolling her eyes as he wrapped an arm around her. “I’m pretty sure colds don’t work like that,”

He chuckled, turning around to face the setting sun too. A feeling of déjà vu sent shivers down the woman’s spine, even if she knew that it wasn’t just a sensation: her and Matthew had experienced the sunset together before, it wasn’t just a feeling.

“Thank you for letting me come along,” he mumbled, a hand soothingly playing with her hair as he looked at the sky. “Your family is great,”

His words held a small hint of sadness, so subtle yet present enough to let Debby catch onto it. A part of her wanted to know what caused this sadness every time someone’s family was mentioned, the other wanted to let him take his time, talk about it whenever he was ready.

She had never been too patient in her entire life: as a kid, she’d stay awake during Christmas Eve’s night just to wake up as soon as the sun rose to open presents; as a teenager, she felt frustrated whenever she’d have to wait months to see her favorite artists in concerts. It was something she had always hated, but was never able to control.

For Matthew, though, Deborah was willing to wait.

“You know, I haven’t really had a Thanksgiving like this ever since I was sixteen,” he admitted, voice taking a gravelly tone as he avoided her eyes. “Ever since uh- the band grew famous, I guess,”

Debby watched his features take a bitter tone as he kept his gaze focused on the orange landscape. “You don’t have to talk about it, if you don’t feel like it, Matt,”

“Someone needs to know,” he sighed, shrugging gingerly before glancing her way. “The guys know I’m not close with my family, but they don’t know why. I trust you, and I want you to know,”

Panic set Deborah’s body on fire as she realized she was the first person to know about his family situation. He trusted her.

“My dad played hockey professionally for almost twenty years, it was in my blood to follow after his footsteps,” he started, interrupting her inner panicked conversation. “I was on skates before I could even walk, had a stick in my hand before I learned how to write, skated behind a puck before I even made friends. He thought it was in my blood.

“But, fuck, when I first saw a drum set at the age of five and heard my first rock song a few days later, I couldn’t care less about hockey and what my dad wanted. I started playing at a friend’s house: his sister owned a drum kit and let me use it twice a week, and music made me happy in a way hockey couldn’t,” Matthew admitted. “I played behind everyone’s backs just so they wouldn’t get disappointed in me. I’d go to hockey practice and work my ass off to make my father happy, then I’d get on my bike and ride to my friend’s neighborhood to play the drums.

“I took music during High School, and my teacher saw me play. He wanted me to join the school’s band, but I needed my parents’ signatures for that, and I didn’t want them to know. Eventually, he accidentally told them I should have pursued my dreams and that night was a fucking mess,” he sighed. “My mom, she- she didn’t mind, she was proud of me. She was happy I was doing what I really wanted to do, even if it was behind their backs. My dad, on the other hand, was pissed that his firstborn son wasn’t following his father’s footsteps. He had never been one for music,”

Debby let one of her hands slip into his, squeezing his palm gently to send him a non-verbal message of comfort. He was safe to speak, with her. “You know, I was his pride and joy growing up. He saw me playing ever since I was a child, and when he lost all hope in me when he learned about me playing the drums, it hurt. He loves my brother and sister because they do what he did, my brother even plays professionally like his old man. I was the disappointment of the family, in his eyes.

“I barely even remember how Chordback got together, but we got famous quickly, and I moved out as soon as possible. I wanted to enjoy my life without being under his disappointed glares, you know?” He sighed, shaking his head slightly. “Now I barely go home, and my mom hates it,”

There was a moment of silence as Deborah took in his story, shock filling her body as she breathed out shakily. “Matthew, I’m so sorry-”

“Don’t be,” he chuckled, shrugging as he let his eyes meet hers. “Mine isn’t a sob story,”

“So, he called?” She asked, remembering Matthew’s father had called a few nights prior.

“He wished me a happy Thanksgiving. Mumbled the usual bullshit about the fact that they miss me, that I should go home to at least see my mother,” he sighed. “Same stuff Taryn said over the phone a few months ago,”

Debby bit her lip, watching his tense body as he ran a hand through his hair. She didn’t know what to say. She had never expected him to have a story like that: he always looked fine, not a worry in his eyes as he went along with the flow. Yet, so much was hidden behind the barrier that kept the world away from his fragile heart.

Debby did the only thing that seemed to make sense in her mind, which was wrap him in a hug. He didn’t reciprocate the embrace for a second, but when his arms wrapped around her waist and his head dropped to the crook of her neck, she knew he needed it.

He needed someone to stabilize him for a second, to silently tell him everything was going to be alright, even if he felt like life was not okay.

She held him until he let go of her, because she remembered her grandma’s words: you never know how much someone needs a hug, so don’t let go until they do.

And by the time the two of them went back to watch the sunset, the future looked clearer.

-----

Life went back in full swing the moment Debby set foot in Calgary, Matthew by her side. Her phone rang with a call from Jean when the two of them went to pick up their bags at the airport, and the overwhelming nerves that came with working in the music industry made their way back in her system.

Days went by before she knew it, her head living in a limbo where all that mattered was her job. And Matthew.

Thanksgiving night couldn’t leave Debby’s head, and she didn’t want it to. She found herself thinking about it at night, alone in her cold bed as she begged for some rest, but her mind always thought otherwise.

Seeing Matt at work wasn’t easy either: her hands tingled, wanting to touch him; her lips begged to be kissed again, and she couldn’t just take it anymore. Staying away from him was what she was bound to do with her job, but all she wanted was to be his.

But it almost seemed like he didn’t reciprocate the feeling. There was distance, a lack of communication that was needed between the two of them. How could she figure out what the two of them were, if he didn’t talk to her? That was what Debby kept asking herself.

Her thoughts were interrupted by a familiar hand on her shoulder, Noah’s eyes the first thing Deborah saw after daydreaming. “We’re boarding,”

“Alright,” she nodded her head, inhaling sharply before rolling her suitcase behind herself. The band was headed to New York again, and her and Jean were coming along for the ride, as per usual.

Growing up, traveling was something Debby had always wished to do, especially when she had reached her teen years. Taking the opportunity to become Chordback’s PA meant that she would have been traveling non-stop, and she had been ecstatic when she landed the job.

Looking back at it, Deborah’s happiness was still there, and saying she loved her job was an understatement. Did she wish for a break every once in a while - even from traveling? Yes, but the music industry never went to sleep.

Debby followed the band towards the plane, her eyes focusing on the sunny sky until the back of a familiar hand ghosted over hers. She looked up to see Matthew’s side profile, a trail of warmth filling her chest when his skin brushed hers, the sleeves of their coats hiding the motions from everyone else surrounding them.

Shivers rushed down her spine as the cold wind pushed her hair out of her face and, eventually, Matthew left her side, her high hopes of seeing any kind of emotion from him slowly lowering. Debby walked up the few small stairs that led inside the jet, shock stopping her right on the last step.

The woman that was greeting the team was smiling widely, her brunette hair pulled into a tight bun as she sported the sharpest uniform Debby had ever seen. She looked beautiful, confidence spilling out of her body as she shook the personal assistant’s hand.

“I’ll be your new pilot,”

A smile broke out on Deborah’s face, so wide she was scared it might get stuck there. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,”

By the time she reached her spot next to Jean, she felt quite confused, though. Why had the pilot been fired? Debby was sure nobody had caught onto the way he had been acting with her and how uncomfortable he had her feeling, so why was he gone?

Jean seemed to read her mind. “Matthew fired the old pilot right before Thanksgiving,” she whispered as she touched up her signature red lipstick. “He said the guy was a perv to the flight assistants,”

Deborah nodded her head along, eyes meeting with Matthew’s. She knew he had been listening to her conversation with Jean all along by the smug look on his face. “Yeah Jean, I also beat him up. Just thought you should know,”

The lipstick in her hand almost fell to the floor, a smudge of red painting the corner of her mouth as her eyes widened. “You what?!”

“I gave him his last paycheck to make him keep his mouth shut, don’t worry,”

“Matthew, that’s even worse!” She screeched, hands shaking as she searched through her purse to find her phone. “Oh my God-”

“The guy deserved it, Jean,” Matthew continued, voice becoming serious. “He was harassing the assistants and- and Deborah,”

The attention inside the plane shifted towards the woman in question, her heart beating out of her chest as an infinite amount of questions rushed through her mind. How did he notice? Had it been that obvious?

“Debby, is it true?” Jean said in a whisper, shock evident in her voice as her eyes stayed on the assistant’s features.

“I-I mean,” she stuttered, shrugging slightly. “It wasn’t anything too big, but it sure was creepy,”

“You could have told me sooner,” the manager said, her warm hand resting on Deborah’s forearm in a reassuring manner. “I would have tried to fire him as soon as possible,”

Debby gave her another shrug before shutting up, not wanting to discuss the matter any further. She felt embarrassed enough to let a man do that to her and not react, but when Matthew - the man she had more than a crush on - found out about the entire situation? She had never been more embarrassed.

She popped her earbuds in and watched the land fly past her from her window, hoping that everyone would forget about the matter by the time they landed. It wasn’t the case, though.

It was almost night by the time the band arrived in New York, to say Debby was more than tired to reciprocate the kind smiles coming from the hotel clerks was an understatement. Her room card was handed to her after just a few minutes, and the thought of crashing on a bed almost had her yawning.

Matthew walked past her, sending a small smile her way before the doors of his elevator closed. She had been successful at blocking any thought regarding the flight, but the questions still kept her curious, even in her tired state.

Deborah headed towards her room, catching one last glimpse of the drummer disappearing behind her neighboring door. She blew out a sigh, getting inside her room and letting her suitcase fall to the floor, ready to slip into comfortable clothing and get in bed.

With the covers up to her chin, though, her eyes just couldn’t close. Debby found herself staring out the floor-to-ceiling windows, the city still awake at the ungodly hour, just like her.

As pathetic as it sounded, she wanted nothing more than to know how Matthew had found out, or even why he had taken it upon himself to fire the pilot. Why had he been so selfless?

The questions kept her awake, and all she wanted was just to sleep. She knew, though, that her body wouldn’t rest until her mind shut down, too.

She pushed the covers away, slipping a pair of slippers on and leaving the room sluggishly, eyes tired. As Deborah stopped in front of Matthew’s door, she felt suddenly awake. Nerves started to make her anxious, and she had to push herself to knock before she could rush back to her room with her tail between her legs.

There was a second before the door opened, Matthew looking quite tired too as he ran a hand through his messy hair. “Deb?”

“How did you find out?”

From the look on his face, Debby knew she didn’t need to elaborate her words, to explain what she really wanted to know.

“Come in,” was all he mumbled, opening the door wider for her. She followed his instruction, entering the room that looked the exact copy of hers before sitting down on the corner of his bed.

There was a moment of silence as he stood in front of her, tattooed arms folding over his chest as he bit his bottom lip. For a second, Deborah’s body lit up on fire, craving to feel his lips pressing against hers. She came back to reality and cooled down when she remembered why she was in his room. She needed answers.

“I uh- I noticed you always disassociated when we boarded the plane,” Matthew started, the look on his face turning serious when his eyes met with hers. “And at first I thought you were just scared of heights or something, but it didn’t make any sense,

“Then the other week I boarded the plane behind you and that motherfucker started hitting on you,” his voice became darker, a hint of protectiveness in his tone Debby had never found before making her hands tremble. “And it was clear you weren’t reciprocating,”

“You didn’t need to do that for me, you know?”

“I wanted to,” he admitted. “I couldn’t stand seeing you like that. I have a sister, and I wouldn’t be able to be at peace with myself if I knew something like that was happening to her and didn’t do anything to keep her safe, and same applies to you,”

Deborah tried not to acknowledge the warmth inside her chest as her eyes fell to her lap, a sigh leaving her lips. “It wasn’t worth it, Matthew. If people find out you hurt him, there will be chaos,”

“Everything I do for you is worth it, Debby,” he whispered, pushing her chin upwards so their eyes could meet, his orbs laced with fondness. “Even if it means I’ll have to punch a perv and ruin my career. Why can’t you understand that?”

The woman shook her head, repressing a small smile before sighing again.

“I need you to be safe, Deborah,” he whispered, voice as tender as a cloud as he spoke to her. “I wouldn’t forgive myself if something happened to you without me even noticing,”

The words had tears well up in her eyes, but she fought the urge to let them streak down her face. Nobody had ever cared that much about her, and she felt full of something she couldn’t quite place. Love? Fondness?

“Promise me you’ll stay safe,” he asked, voice shallow as he cupped her cheek.

“I promise,”

His body inched closer to hers, the only thing separating the two of them being a thin layer of air. His lips fell on Deborah’s after a second, sweetly carefree as she got lost in his scent, his presence.

He was kissing her. She felt more than confused from all the times she felt like he had been avoiding her, but he was kissing her, and she ignored any red flag she could have possibly thought about.

Debby wished to never let go, but her body reminded her that she was more than tired by making her legs give out on her, her embarrassed laugh ending the kiss. “I’m uh- I’m exhausted from today, I should probably go to sleep,”

Matthew nodded, a silent smile painting his slightly swollen lips as he pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“Of course you will,”

-----

Tomorrow was quite eventful, though. Deborah woke up late, the sound of her alarm not being loud enough to wake her from her deep slumber; she stumbled around her room to get dressed up, sending a quick text to the band to tell them she was going to be late to breakfast, receiving a string of messages explaining they were going to wait for her.

When she left her room, Debby was still half asleep. She registered the voices of the guys, and she registered Matthew’s soft smile, but she went on autopilot when she followed the boys towards the breakfast spot.

Her rough, real awakening happened in front of the café, where an unfamiliar girl was waiting for them - or, at least, Noah. She was tall, hair a beautiful shade of blond as a breathtaking smile painted her lips, directed to Noah and Noah only. It looked like she only had eyes for him, and from the way the lead didn’t shy away from her attention, Debby realized who she really was. Aleena.

There was a brief moment where they hugged, sharing a laugh as Noah bent down to press a kiss on her cheek before turning around to face Deborah and the rest of the band. As the assistant looked around in pure shock, she noticed that Johnny, Matthew and Elias all shared her same expression.

“Guys, this is Aleena,” Noah said, holding back laughter at the looks on their faces. “She’ll be joining us for breakfast, I hope this isn’t a problem,”

“Uh, no! Not at all!” Debby exclaimed, pushing herself out of her trance to shake the girl’s hand. “I’m Deborah, the band’s personal assistant,”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Aleena said, a gentle smile on her lips. The few minutes that followed the encounter were spent with introductions, a thin layer of shock still coating the air as everyone got inside the café to place their orders.

“Damn,” Matthew whispered from behind Debby, chuckling as they queued behind other people. “I wasn’t expecting him to introduce her this soon,”

“Me neither,” the assistant admitted, looking at him with a smile. “She’s nice, though,”

He nodded, agreeing with her as she moved forward, repeating her order in her head. “You think they’re going public?” Deborah asked, checking her phone for the time before looking back up, waiting for an answer.

“I think Jean is in the dark about this as much as we were,” Matt mumbled, letting his hands rest on her shoulders subconsciously, her heart skipping a beat at his touch. “So I think he has to tell her first,”

Debby nodded her head, a smile forming on her lips when she came face-to-face with the barista. She placed her order calmly, reaching for her wallet when the moment to pay arrived.

“I’ve got it,”

Matthew placed his order and paid for the both of them, not even giving the assistant enough time to fight and pay for her own stuff. “Well, thank you, then,” she said, jokingly rolling her eyes as they grabbed their drink and headed for their table, the drummer sitting next to her after a few seconds.

He had talked to her, paid for her drink, touched her shoulder. At that point, Debby was asking herself where they really were standing. There were moments when she felt like a stranger to him, when he barely even sent a smile her way; other times - mostly behind closed doors -, it felt like she was his, but just when it was needed, not always.

The empty table became quite crowded after everyone sat down with their breakfast. “So, new album and tour this year, boys,” Elias smirked, taking a sip of his coffee. “Missed that shit,”

“Album drops in a month, so you’ve still got some time to put some final touches,” Deborah pointed out. “Then tour is in a couple of months,”

A few nods came from around the table, her eyes settling on Aleena as she silently sipped on what Deborah could only guess was a latte. “Are you coming along, Aleena?”

The new addition seemed to be shocked by Debby’s question, almost choking on her drink as she opened her mouth to speak. “I uh- we haven’t really talked about it, yet,” she said, looking up at Noah with so much admiration it made the assistant’s heart clench.

Debby nodded, smiling her way before sipping her drink, a hint of jealousy of what the couple had sending shivers down her spine. Breakfast went faster than she had expected as she found herself talking to Noah’s girlfriend with the group and enjoying her company, and by the time they left the place, Deborah was sad to leave Aleena behind.

The band needed to get to the studio to discuss the upcoming release and tour, though, and the group and Aleena had to part ways.

“I think we should celebrate,” Elias pointed out, leaning on his chair with his arm behind his head. “Have a few drinks, go to a club,”

“We haven’t even released the news, Elias,” Jean sighed, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear.

“Why not, though? We could just have a party before everything gets released, just us,”

Jean spit out a laugh at the ‘just us’, making the guitarist scowl jokingly. “Back to the album. It’s done, then?”

“Almost,” Noah corrected. “We could pull an all-nighter tonight and just finish it,”

Matthew nodded, followed by Johnny and Elias. Everything seemed to be on board, and Deborah felt happy. The band was back to normal: the fights had come to a halt, they were about to release their newest - and best, by far - album, and they were going on tour again.

One thing was holding back her happiness, though, and it was confusion.

What the hell was happening with Matthew?

The walk from the café to the studio had been enough to send her in a spiral of thoughts, finally realizing that what was going on between the two of them wasn’t quite right. For some reason, she wanted nothing more but to know where she stood in his life, if she mattered or if she was just another groupie.

Bitterness filled her mouth as she found him staring, embarrassment making her feel numb. It had taken her so long to realize that he was playing a game, and she felt stupid.

Debby lifted herself up from her chair, grabbing her purse. “I’ll head out to take a breather,”

And when he didn’t even spare her a glance, she knew she needed to figure out what was really happening between the two of them.

Deborah wasn’t another fucking groupie, that she was sure of.

“Alright, we’re almost done, guys,” Noah mumbled, eyes cast on the laptop sitting in front of him as Johnny stood behind him, arms folded over his chest.

“Final touches?” Elias popped from the bathroom, still drying his hands with a paper towel.

“Yeah,” Matt murmured. The drummer was sitting on the couch right in front of Deborah’s, a look she couldn’t quite read painting his features.

The all-nighter the guys had pulled had been going on for hours, and she was quite tired. The moon was peeking over a thick set of curtains, wishing to get her attention by painting a white streak inside the studio. Her head was pounding, but she wanted to assist to the start of Chordback’s new era. Sleep wasn’t on her schedule, at least until the band finally was done.

The late hour was taking a toll on everyone, but even through their almost bloodshot eyes, Debby could tell the guys were more awake than they had ever been. The air felt exciting, and she felt like she had nothing to lose.

“And we’re done,”

Noah’s words had the entire room in silence, even the rustling of the wind outside came to a halt when he spoke. Debby’s heart raced, a smile forming on her lips as she looked up at the lead, nothing but respect in her eyes.

“Holy fucking shit-” Elias whisper-yelled, running a hand through his messy hair before breaking the silence with a shocked laugh. “Holy shit-”

“We’re done!” Johnny exclaimed, his voice louder than his bandmate’s.

“Fuck yes,” Matthew smirked, throwing a fist in the air in celebration before pulling Noah in a hug. “We did it, man,”

Deborah congratulated the boys, hugging each one of them like a proud little sister before she got to Matthew, her heart clenching. Where the hell did she stand? “Good job, Matt,” she smiled awkwardly, leaning in to give him a quick side hug.

“Deb-”

“Should we pop a bottle open?” Elias asked, his frame hunched over the minibar. When he rose back to his full height, he was holding a bottle of champagne, his familiar smirk keeping the left corner of his mouth up.

“Hell yes!” Noah chuckled, looking around to find some flutes only to find himself helpless: there weren’t glasses to celebrate with. Debby didn’t need him to even send a glance her way, her hands already gathering her stuff.

“Debby, can we-”

“I’ll go get someone for you,” she said to the lead, slinging her purse over her shoulder. “I was heading out anyway,”

“Already? Darling, this is the best part and you’re leaving,” Elias said, voice holding the flirty tone that she knew he couldn’t even control.

“I’m sure we can celebrate when the dates will be released,” Deborah winked his way, opening the door and stopping right before she could walk inside the fancy hallway. She turned around, facing all of them before pointing a finger their way. “Don’t do anything stupid,”

“Yes, ma’am,” was the only answer she could hear as she stepped out of the room, reaching the closest desk where Maria - the kind receptionist she grew to be friends with - was smiling, not a trace of tiredness in her dark eyes.

“Maria, can you please send some flutes to Chordback’s studio?” She asked, slipping her coat on just as some footsteps started to sound behind her. “They just finished their album,”

“Of course. Heading out?”

“Yes,” she sighed, stopping in her tracks just when she heard a familiar voice calling her name.

“Deborah, wait,”

Matthew was rushing down the hallway, hair stuck in an unusual nest as he sported a confused look. Another sigh left Debby’s lips, her eyelids closing as she turned around to face him. “What, Matthew?”

“What’s up with you? Did I do something wrong?”

“What do you mean what’s up with me?”

“You’ve been acting weird, today,” he pointed out. “You were okay this morning, and then you gave me the cold shoulder the entire day. Really, what the hell have I done?”

“What the fuck are we doing, Matt?”

His eyebrows furrowed as he received a question, instead of an answer. His mouth opened but closed again, only to leave the woman with silence. She took it upon herself to keep the conversation going. “Because our points of view are clearly not the same,”

“What are you talking about, sweetheart?”

The pet name made Deborah flinch, her heart doing a forbidden cartwheel as she cursed herself for even feeling that way during an argument. “I’m talking about the fact that we kissed on Thanksgiving, you protected me from that fucking asshole of a pilot, asked me to promise to be safe, and I still don’t know whether you want this to happen or not!” The words came out louder than she had expected, but she didn’t care. She was exasperated and she needed to know. “And, for God’s sake, don’t call me sweetheart,”

Deborah was faced with another moment of silence, Matthew’s face taking an expression she couldn’t quite read. She had never heard silence that loud, and his lack of words was enough to answer every single question of hers.

“I don’t have time for your silence, I’m heading out,” Debby spat out, clutching her bag closer before muttering her next words. “I’ll see you tomorrow,”

When she had first thought about confronting Matthew, she thought it wasn’t going to affect her. But by the time she left the tall skyscraper, remembering the conversation the two of them had had on its top at sunset, she couldn’t tell if the wetness on her face was formed by the rain or the tears.

She felt empty, even if the argument was for the best. She had done nothing to deserve to get played by a man like Matthew - rich, with nothing to lose - and she knew her worth. But God, did it hurt.

Deborah’s hopes had been over the roof from the start, but he had just led her on, like men like him do with groupies. He needed to figure out what he felt and where he wanted things to go, because she already knew where she stood about that.

Noah and Aleena were happy, so happy. They looked like they were fitted perfectly for each other. Naively, she had thought she and Matthew could have been the same.

But clearly, a happy ending in her love life still wasn’t planned.

-----

“Okay, so Rolling Stones interview on the fifth?” She asked Jean, eyes stuck on her laptop as she scrolled through Chordback’s schedule. “The day after the album release? Wow,”

“Yeah, they were begging us to be the first ones to get an interview,” Jean sighed, sipping on her coffee before looking down at her own papers. “Then we have a few more interviews,”

“And all the radio interviews during-”

“Flowers for Deborah?”

The words had the assistant frowning in confusion, her eyes turning up to see a delivery man standing on the doorway of the meeting room. He held a large bouquet of flowers, the composition looking lovely even from the distance.

Debby rose from her chair with uncertainty clear in her features, grabbing the bouquet from his larger hands. “You sure it’s for Deborah? I haven’t received flowers ever since graduation,”

The man chuckled, the smile not quite reaching his eyes as he checked his watch, probably in a rush. “100% sure. Have a nice day, ma’am,”

He was out of eyesight before she could even thank him - or ask him to check again -, her eyes focusing on the gift in her hands as the room filled with silence. Who the hell could have sent her flowers? A small whistle brought the woman back to reality, making her turn around to face Jean. “Secret admirer?”

Was it her ex? “I didn’t even know I had one,”

Deborah’s fingers caressed the delicate petals until something sharp came in contact with her skin. The small piece of paper was looking up at her as if it was begging to be read, her heart hammering as she let her fingertips graze over it.

I know this isn’t much, but it is the start. - M

“Oh my God,” she muttered under your breath, sighing loudly. Matthew?

And he didn’t lie in the note: with each and every passing day, gifts were waiting for Debby at her hotel door, at the recording label, even in her bathroom. She had received multiple bouquets of flowers, a cute tote bag she had seen on a specific Etsy store and mumbled about for weeks, skincare products she still was missing, and what the hell?

Every single present was paired with a message written in Matthew’s chicken scratch, his words meaningful even through paper, and what the fuck was happening?!

Jean would strangle out a laugh every time she’d see a new gift waiting for Deborah, muttering about the fact that not even her ex-husband was as passionate about forgiveness after cheating as Matthew was. Though she looked completely fine on the outside, Debby didn’t know how to feel.

In some ways, she felt childish for even arguing with him: he was a busy man, he didn’t have time for relationships. At the same time, though, she felt like she deserved more than to be played like a game, like she was nothing more than a stranger to him.

Certainly, getting spoiled by the man she almost yelled at really didn’t help with making Deborah feel like what she did was right, especially since it looked like he was trying his everything to get one last chance.

“Are you ever going to forgive this poor secret admirer?” Jean asked, eyes not even leaving her paper as Debby sat in front of her, miserably looking at the pins she had just received. The pastel-colored items she had liked on Instagram just a few days prior felt cold in the assistant’s hands, and it wasn’t the first time she’d started questioning her life choices. “He looks like he’s desperately trying to win you back,”

“And he is,” Deborah sighed, burying her face in her hands before looking up at the ceiling. “I feel like it was stupid of me to start a fight, you know?”

“Why don’t you just talk to him, then?” In some ways, the assistant was thankful Jean didn’t know Matthew was the main character of the conversation.

“Because I’m scared he’ll hate me,”

The woman laughed loudly, making Deborah turn as small as an ant right in front of her. “Open your eyes, will you, girl? The man is whipped. A man who doesn’t know a woman’s worth wouldn’t chase or wait for her,”

Her words engraved themselves in Debby’s mind, their truth so candid she couldn’t even question it. She remembered what her grandma had told her after her first big heartbreak: there’s plenty of fish in the sea, but Deborah knew her gran’s advice wouldn’t apply with Matthew’s situation.

“I just- I don’t know what to do,”

“Has he been good to you? Has he treated you well?” Jean asked, her eyes boring into Debby’s when she nodded her head. “Then don’t think and do whatever your heart tells you to do,”

The assistant watched her for a swift second, lifting herself up from her chair and grabbing her purse. “I’m heading off,”

“Use protection!” Jean yelled behind her, a laugh leaving her lips before she mumbled under her breath. “God, when did I start being so poetic?”

With her heart hammering against her rib cage, Debby rushed through the busy streets of New York, meeting Matthew being the only thought on her mind. To her luck, the hotel the band was staying in was not too far away from their studio, and by the time she opened her room door to get rid of her coat, she wasn’t too exhausted.

She was confused, though. Sitting right under her feet was a piece of paper, the writing so familiar. She grabbed it from the floor, skimming through the words before realization struck her like lightning.

It was a song.

Matthew had written her a song.

Tears welled up in Deborah’s eyes as she read, hands shaking as she bit her lip. She couldn’t let him go.

It was a love song, the words so gentle and heart-clenching. Admiration, love, and passion were spilling out of them in waves Deborah wasn’t ready to let go of yet, so she read it another time. And then another, and another, and another.

She walked out of the room with tears streaming down her face - not caring if other guests saw her in the meantime - still holding the notebook page in her hand. As she faced his door, something inside her seemed to turn on: nervousness.

What if he wasn’t at the hotel? What if her silence had made him give up?

All her questions got an answer when Matthew opened the door, a tired look on his face. His hair was a mess, and he didn’t look like his normal self, like Matthew.

“Deborah?”

“You wrote me a song?”

The drummer sighed, opening the door wider to let the woman in. “I uh- I started writing it a few months ago, when everything started, you know-”

His room was dark, but Debby could make out his half-packed suitcase, his clothes sitting messily all over the floor. The thought made its way in her head, but it seemed so out of character for Matthew that she couldn’t even believe it was real. The whole conversation about the song dropped. “You- are you leaving?”

“I have no reason to stay here,” he sighed, running a hand through his tousled hair before slightly cleaning up. “Album is done, and we have a few weeks before our first interview. Also, I kind of grasped the two of us are actually done, so I really didn’t have a purpose here,”

His lonely words had Deborah’s heart clenching, her smaller hand clutching his as she turned around to face him. “I love you,” she breathed out shakily, the three-worded sentence she had been thinking about for months finally slipping out of her parted lips. “I love you so much, and I fucked up,”

Matthew looked shocked as he took in her words, eyes slowly widening. “Deb-”

“I know it’s too soon, you don’t have to say it back, but I felt like you should have known,” she said, breathing out a sigh of relief as a weight she didn’t know she was holding was pushed off her shoulders. “You’re a busy man, relationships probably aren’t what you want at the moment, and it wasn’t my place to get pissed off,”

“I love you, Deborah,” he admitted. “I wasn’t kidding when I said that loving you was easier than I had expected,”

Another set of tears had her eyes burning, her hand intertwining with his as she looked up at him. “I’ve never been good with words, or emotions, and that’s why there was miscommunication between us,”

“Fuck-” Deborah closed her eyes, guilt rushing through her. “I’m fucking awful, this is all my fault,”

“Hey, it was bound to happen, at some point. To be honest, I probably should have made it clear that I loved you a long time ago, I don’t know what was holding me back,” Matthew said, gently cradling her face. “But we’re here now, and we’re fine,”

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, emotions spilling from her words as she watched him through her teary gaze. “I’m so sorry,”

“I don’t want you to be,” he murmured back, letting his thumbs brush a few tears away. There was a beat as his warm breath fanned over her features, her eyes focusing on his stormy ones as silence settled between them. She was in his arms, the two of them were okay. “Debby?”

“Hm?”

“I want the world to know how much you mean to me,” he whispered in her ear, his voice sending shivers down her spine. “I want to make you mine,”

“Say the words, Matt,” Deborah murmured, arms wrapping around his neck as her lips ghosted his. “Say the words and I’ll be yours,”

There was a beat, a long one, before Matthew let his lips brush hers in a gentle - but desperate - kiss. The drummer’s hands were everywhere as the two of them kissed, not a worry in the world as her back hit the soft comforter of the room’s bed.

“Be mine, Deborah,” Matthew breathed out when his lips left hers, his orbs maintaining eye contact. “I’ll find a way to give you my world,”

She bit her lip, smiling as she watched the man in front of her - the man she loved - offer her his love with just the power of his words.

“You already do, Matt,” Debby whispered, bringing him closer to press another kiss to his slightly-swollen lips. “I’m yours,”

-----

“Why the fuck am I nervous? I’m not even going on stage,” Deborah mumbled, words coming out rushed as she stood outside the green room with Aleena, her friend’s laughter filling her ears.

“They’ve been doing this for years, hun. They’re probably not even nervous themselves,” Noah’s girlfriend said, voice gentle as her arm wrapped around Debby’s. “And we both know they’re going to kill it,”

“That’s true,” the personal assistant nodded her head, taking a sip of her water just as the door of the room opened, Chordback coming out looking as mesmerizing as ever. They were a mess of tattoos and pearly white smiles, ready to take on the first stage of the tour and make the crowd go wild.

Noah, in his old-school-love fashion, wrapped Aleena in his arms, owning a little squeal as he lifted her off the floor. “Put me down, idiot!”

Elias and Johnny, too busy talking to each other about their improvised solos, didn’t even glance Deborah’s way, heading towards the stage by following the staff. Matthew, on the other hand, took a moment to let his eyes focus on his girl.

“You look beautiful,” he said, voice low as he wrapped his arms around her waist. Debby’s sundress clung to her body the way she knew he loved, and the smile on his face was enough to make the butterflies in her stomach start their never-ending dance.

“You don’t look too bad yourself,” she giggled, taking his hand and leading him towards the side of the stage, where everyone was standing. The other band that was opening the concert was still going strong, the crowd enjoying the background music as they waited for Chordback to start their tour with a bang.

The last few notes of a song she had heard many times before owned claps and screams from the public, a few whistles also shaking the arena. Debby stood next to Aleena as she smiled, the feeling of hearing the public again making the assistant’s legs almost give up on her.

She had started her job when the band was already almost at the end of their second tour, and it had been a chaotic way to start her first job in the music industry. She hadn’t been able to get to know the band members, and she hadn’t been able to enjoy even a bit of traveling.

That time, though, it was different. She was there as Chordback’s personal assistant, but also as Matthew’s girlfriend. The experience itself was going to be new, unexpected.

“Good luck,” she told Matt just as the opening band started to leave the stage. Debby leaned up on the tip of her toes, pressing a kiss to his lips.

“I don’t need that,” he smirked, winking down at her before kissing her again, this time passionately. “I already have my lucky charm with me,”

Deborah shook her head, pushing out a giggle as he backed off, tugging the drumsticks from his back pocket. “Cheesy, Matthew,”

“What do you expect from me?”

As the stage grew dark, the band entered the stage, filling their designed spots just as a few yells and cheers filled the air. The first sound came from Matthew’s drumsticks, and the place lit up as the opening song started, the song that had brought the newest album to the top of the charts: Aleena’s song.

Matthew smiled Deborah’s way gingerly as he started to play, her heart skipping a beat. As she watched him play, she couldn’t exactly tell why all the fondness inside her body seemed to come out just then. It felt strange.

Though after a few moments of wondering, she realized what it really was. Proudness. Deborah was proud of the little kid that snuck out of the house to practice the drums in a house five blocks away, she was proud of the teenager that followed his dreams even when his father was disappointed in him. She was proud of Matthew and the man he had become.

She was proud of him, and she loved him, more than she loved herself.

Matthew was her home, her safe place. He was a part of the life she was hoping to bring along in the future, and he was the person she wanted to wake up next to every morning.

Back at her childhood home during Thanksgiving, he had said that loving her was easier than he had expected.

He hadn’t realized, though, that loving him was the easiest part of Deborah’s life. A part that she was willing to carry with her for the rest of her life.

Taglist: @thirstyybitch @bellaguarneri @boqvistsbabe @trashforbarzal @tonguetiedstan @keithseabrook27 @heatherawoowoo @tysonsjosty

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk x reader #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl x reader #calgary flames #hockey imagine

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a-small-batch-of-dragons · 3 years

Text

Go the Distance

Prompt: Hello, I absolutely adore your work 🥺😍🥺 your Sanders Sides angst is just so goooood!!! If you're up to it, I'd love to request a fic <3 Virgil has noticed [side(s?) of your choice; they're all good choices, I can't decide ;-;] has been distant and avoiding him and he just can't figure out what he did wrong but it's actually because [side] loves him and are trying to take some time to 'get rid of/push down their feelings' The angster the better but don't push yourself ^ Feel free to add or change whatever Have a great day and no worries if you don't do this 💜💜💜~@im-an-anxious-wreck 💜🖤

Thanks for the prompt babe you’re the best

Read on Ao3

Warnings: self-doubt, some lite™ angst

Pairings: prinxiety, background platonic dlampr because found family dynamics motherfuckers

Word Count: 4191

Virgil and Roman's relationship hasn't always been, well, great. But it's been getting better!

Or, at least, it was.

Listen, Virgil knows he and Roman haven’t exactly had the most…painless history. Virgil’s introduction to the series was Thomas telling Roman his dream was to get rid of him and, well, Roman was first and foremost loyal to Thomas. Then the whole…insult thing, ducking out, and the absolute mess of the callback wedding debacle, it’s not exactly been smooth sailing.

But—okay, and maybe they’d been a little harsher about things than absolutely necessary, and maybe Roman got hit with the consequences of their fights more than Virgil, and maybe Virgil hadn’t exactly been…overwhelmingly accepting of all of Princey’s little ticks.

But they’d still been talking!

After the wedding, no one was on good terms with anyone save Patton and Janus—and wasn’t that the shock of a lifetime—and Remus and Virgil. Because they made the smart choice and decided ‘nope, fuck that, I’m out.’

It was a good choice. You have any idea how high their scores are in GTFO now? The first rundown’s a fucking cakewalk.

Anyway.

They’d been talking! Virgil still doesn’t know exactly what happened right after—he saw the video, of course he saw the video, but Roman sunk right to his room and there’s a good twelve hours between that and the next time Virgil saw him—but Roman had come out and approached him!

Probably because he was still hurt by the end of the video—which oof, Virgil does not blame him for, that was harsh—and his only options were Logan, Virgil, and Remus and Logan, um, didn’t want to see anyone for a while and Remus is Remus.

Side note: those two have been getting on better. Something about their twin Creativity thing meant Remus knew that Roman was hurting bad before even Thomas did.

But Roman did seek him out, asking him quietly if he had a moment, just a moment, to sit together. Virgil had shrugged and passed it off as nothing only for Princey to literally sit on the floor and not make a fucking noise. He’d frowned and poked his shoulder, asking if he was alright.

“Perfectly fine, Dark and Stormy,” Roman had said lightly, “and I’ll leave you in a moment.”

“But you’re…” Virgil had waved to his silent form. “…not acting like you normally do.”

Roman had laughed. “And here I thought I’d never hear you say you missed me being loud.”

“Now let’s not jump to conclusions.”

Sure enough, a few more seconds had passed and Roman had gotten up, quietly bid Virgil good day, thanked him, and left.

You bet your ass Virgil sunk straight into Patton’s room to ask hey what the fuck did you do to Roman.

Patton had sighed and said that they’re not sure what to do now—‘they’ being Janus and Patton. Virgil, still recovering from the whiplash of those two being close had shaken his head and told them to get it the fuck together.

If he sunk into Remus’s room to ask how to take care of Roman, that’s his business. It’s also his business if he tackled Princey in a hug two minutes later.

So. Talking.

Roman, for all he talks, doesn’t really say much. The few things he does say are easily passed off as jokes, off-handed comments that no one really pays much attention to.

Not that anyone pays nearly enough attention to Roman, come on, guys, he makes it easy.

But Roman talked to Virgil. He’d come in and sit and Virgil would sit next to him, trying to make sure his arm didn’t burst into flames from where it was pressed against Princey—the dude’s a fucking space heater, okay?—just to listen. Some of the time it was Disney rants—okay, most of the time it was Disney rants—but some of the time…

“Virgil?”

“Yeah?”

Roman looked down at his costume. Today was repair day, unofficially called when Virgil’s hoodie ripped during the night and Roman’s sword cut through his sleeve. Virgil looked up from his own mass of fabric, needle stuck in carefully so he wouldn’t prick himself. He frowned at the look on Roman’s face.

“What’s up, Princey?”

“Do you think my logo looks bad?”

Virgil blinked in shock. Roman didn’t look up and see the surprise on his face, instead running his thumb slowly over the patch on the costume.

“What the fuck are you talking about, Princey?”

“It’s so complicated,” Roman said, still looking down, “Logan and Patton have really simple ones. You have a pretty simple one.”

“Janus doesn’t. Remus doesn’t.”

“Yeah, but they’re…”

Virgil frowned deeper, putting his hoodie on the ground and shifting closer to Roman. The prince didn’t even look up, still clutching his logo in his hands.

“They’re what, Roman?”

Roman swallowed. “…allowed.”

A growl sounded from Virgil’s throat before he knew what was happening.

“And you’re not?”

“Hmm?”

“And you’re not allowed, Roman?” Virgil gripped his shoulder. “Look at me, Princey.”

Roman looked up. Virgil swallowed another growl at the despondent look on the prince’s face. Instead, he gripped Roman’s shoulder tighter.

“No one,” he said firmly, “is allowed to tell you your logo is bad. You hear me?”

Roman blinked.

“I mean it, Roman,” he said, softening his voice a little, “it’s you. It’s yours, no one’s allowed to tell you it’s wrong.”

“So that’s…okay?”

“Yeah, Princey, it’s okay.”

“Oh.” Roman looked back down at his costume. “Okay. Thank you, Virgil.”

“Anytime.”

Virgil would come to be astounded at how much he means that.

Because, really, now that Roman’s talking? Virgil’s fucking shocked that they didn’t realize how much Roman actually has to offer.

First off, Princey’s smart as hell. Sure, L’s the resident braincell but you can be big of brain and dumb of ass at the same time.

If Logan tries to tell you he’s not a dumbass sometimes he is wrong.

Roman can puzzle solve with the best of them. Do you have any idea how much brainpower it takes to write a story? A script? Understand how all those moving parts fit together and make sense as a whole? Virgil sure as hell didn’t. He spent one afternoon trying to help Roman only for it to end up as Roman explaining what he was doing and Virgil frantically trying to keep up. Don’t even get him started on how impressive the Imagination stuff is.

“It’s my job, Fall Out Brood,” Roman laughs every single time Virgil expresses how fucking cool this is, “have to be good at something.”

And Roman is. He’s good.

Second: Patton may be the heart, Logan may be the brains, but no one is as good at reassuring him as Roman. Probably has something to do with the Creativity gig. Roman had asked, politely, if Virgil would be comfortable telling him what to do when he gets really anxious, whether to leave him alone, get him somewhere safe, get him things, what have you. Virgil had told him, bemused, only to be shuttled into somewhere that screamed safewarmcomfortableeverythingisokay the next time he had a panic attack. Roman, with the lack of shame truly becoming of a theatre kid, had no problems cheering him up by loudly declaring he would fight whatever shadowy figures plagued his little nightmare, swatting at the air with his sword until Virgil’s sobs had turned into giggles. He never made Virgil talk about anything if he didn’t want to, didn’t try to sit and work through things if they weren’t ready, and never touched him unless he’d gotten the okay. The first time Virgil told him he’d be fine with receiving hugs in the aftermath was the warmest he’d felt in years.

Princey gives really good hugs.

Third: Roman’s fucking funny.

Remember the whole ‘smart as hell’ thing? Know how Logan’s funny as fuck too when he lets himself be?

Virgil’s lost count of how many times he’s had to gasp out for Roman to shut the fuck up because his sides hurt too much from laughing. He ends up sprawled across the fucking floor or the couch or Princey’s bed, dying very happily but painfully because Roman won’t stop making him laugh.

Most of the time it’s due to something they’re watching and Roman’ll notice some detail that he picks apart until they’re both howling or Virgil will make one sarcastic comment that turns into a full fucking bit for like…ten minutes. Roman will just keep riffing off of the smallest thing until he’s laughing too hard to keep going—not very likely—or Virgil will flail out desperately and smack him—much more likely.

Princey said he makes fun of the things he loves.

…maybe that’s why he doesn’t make fun of Virgil anymore.

Virgil curls tighter around the pillow, clutching it to his chest. As he rubs his cheek against it, he grimaces. It’s too rough. It’s not warm enough. It doesn’t smell right.

They’d been talking. It had been good.

But that was before.

Before Roman had cautiously approached Logan with an apology, the offering of a new planner for him, the promise to listen to him, hear him out, give him space to speak. Logan had accepted.

Before Roman had opened the border between his and Remus’s side of the Imagination, sending a little puppy scuttling over to his brother’s castle with a note, a dagger, and a vial of acid. It returned as a kitten with a beautifully poisonous rose.

Before Roman had finally, finally, after days of trying, opened the door when Patton knocked, letting him come inside so they could talk, about everything that happened since…well, ever. They hadn’t stopped hugging long enough to walk down the stairs.

Before Roman had let Janus, Janus, take care of him.

And now…

Now Roman didn’t want to be in the same room as him.

It feels as if they’re walking on eggshells around each other again, Virgil appearing in a room only for Roman to completely disappear, getting up and leaving a conversation entirely just to avoid him, Virgil knocking on Roman’s door only for Roman to shout that he’s busy, not to come inside, Virgil, trying, trying to figure out where Roman’s gone, what’s happened, only to receive the cold shoulder.

A problem none of the other Sides seemed to be having.

He clutches the pillow to his chest.

Did he—did he do something wrong?

Does Roman—does Roman not like him anymore?

Maybe he shouldn’t have pushed so hard about talking to the others. Roman needed space, needed time, he didn’t need someone else breathing down his neck. He should’ve let Roman set the pace, listened more, been kinder to him when he needed reassurance.

Maybe he shouldn’t have made Roman think it was his fault that the others were taking so long, or suggested that if he wanted things to get better he should try talking first. Roman had been taught by everyone else that things were his fault already, Virgil didn’t need to jump on that train too.

Maybe he should’ve been kinder to Roman, less focused on making the others understand that they hurt Roman. Everyone in the Mindscape knew that Roman was hurt, Virgil should’ve helped fix that, taken care of Roman, not pushed the blame onto everyone else.

Maybe Roman didn’t like what he had to say about Disney films. They were Roman’s comfort watches, the last thing he needed was for someone to cruelly rip away his enjoyment of one of the few things he could enjoy.

Maybe Roman didn’t like Virgil’s way of taking care of him. Virgil never pushed, never did Roman the courtesy of asking, like Roman did with him, just assumed he knew best how to comfort someone and left it there. Roman might’ve needed more hugs, more time, less distraction, just something other than what Virgil gave him.

Maybe Roman didn’t like how much Virgil ended up hoarding him to himself. Not letting him go to the others for comfort, just to work things out. Maybe he thought Virgil was just keeping him upset so he could hang out with him more.

Or maybe…

Virgil muffles his sob in the pillow.

Maybe Roman needed or wanted him anyway.

Maybe Roman was just waiting until he could get the comfort he actually wanted. Maybe he waited until the others were easier to talk to so he could go back to what he really needed. Maybe Virgil was just a placeholder until Roman could get hugs from Patton and Remus, talk with Logan and Janus, not him. Never him.

Maybe that’s…okay.

It’s not, it won’t be fucking okay for a long time, but one day, it will be okay.

Virgil curses and throttles the pillow in his arms, wishing for it to be real, to be warm, to be a chest of white and gold and a splash of red, for it to wraps its arms around him and say it’s okay, shadow-ling, I’m here, I won’t leave you, shh.

But it’s just a pillow.

Has his room always been this cold?

Have Disney movies always looked this flat?

Has music always sounded this gray?

Has Virgil always been this alone?

He can hear them in the living room below him. He can hear Roman and Logan throwing quips back and forth, can hear Remus tackling his brother into the wall, and Roman protesting. He can hear Janus scolding Remus and checking to make sure Roman’s not injured, can hear Roman wave him off gently and go right back to verbally sparring with Logan. He can hear Patton laughing too hard, falling off the couch and begging the two of them to let up, let him breathe, can hear Roman coo and call him sweet, adorable, in that soft voice he only uses when he’s talking to someone he cares about.

Can’t hear any of them worrying about where he is.

Maybe it’s better this way.

He got greedy, took too much of what was never his to take, what wasn’t given to him freely. He latched onto the first thing he thought was for him and didn’t stop to think that it wasn’t. He may think he’s been included in the famILY but he knows he’s still an outsider.

He may be Virgil now but deep down he’ll always be Anxiety.

So here he will stay, in the cold of his room, in the dark of his face smushed into a pillow that will never be real. He will stay and he will be happy.

But not today.

He sniffles and smears his nose on the sleeve of his hoodie, not bothering to pull away from the pillow long enough to wipe tears properly. His limbs start to protest as he hugs it tighter, tighter, tighter, but it’s no use. He can feel his own arms through the pillow. There isn’t enough—there’s too much give in the pillow. It’s just a fucking pillow but it’s not enough.

Another laugh from downstairs and Virgil growls, burying his head in the pillow until he can’t hear himself think.

Can’t hear anything but his own muffled sobs ringing in his ears.

Can’t hear anything other than the thought swirling around and around his head that he’ll never be enough, that he’ll never be wanted, that he’ll never be anything other than Anxiety.

Can’t hear the soft knock at the door.

“Virgil?”

The voices in his head must be getting pretty powerful because he’s certain he can hear Roman calling for him. He buries deeper in the pillow.

“Virgil? Virgil, can you hear me?”

Yes, he thinks, yes, I can hear you, which means I’m not crying hard enough.

“Can I come in, shadow-ling?”

Yes, he thinks, come in and make me forget that you don’t need me anymore.

He must really be losing it because he thinks he can hear the door open and close again with a soft click, followed by a sharp intake of breath and a soft coo.

“Oh, shadow-ling,” the imaginary Roman murmurs, “come here, little Stormcloud.”

Oh, his imagination is being cruel to him right now because the sensation of warm arms around his waist and shoulders fucking burns. He buries his face in the pillow until he can’t tell which way is up anymore, not sure how he’s tricked himself into imagining Roman’s cradling him but too unwilling to let the illusion go.

“That’s right, Stormcloud, relax for me, I’ve got you, I’m right here, shh, shh, you’re alright,” the imaginary Roman keeps whispering in that cruelly soft voice, “you’re doing great, shadow-ling.”

Virgil wants him to be real. So bad he aches from it. But he knows he’s not.

What happens next breaks his fucking heart.

The imaginary Roman kisses him.

It’s chaste, a barely-there brush of his lips against his forehead but it tears a whine out of Virgil’s throat before he can stop it. The imaginary Roman hushes him gently, pressing another kiss to the part of his cheek not buried in the pillow and it taunts him with how real it feels. The slightly chapped lips, the warm rush of air as Roman breathes, the light brush of his nose as he pulls away.

It’s too much.

It’s too much and he wants it to be real so badly but he knows the instant he pulls away it will vanish and that might just break him.

Then he realizes the imaginary Roman is talking to him.

“Breathe, Stormcloud, you’ve got to breathe,” he coaxes, “I know it’s tempting to stay buried in a pillow all day, but you can’t breathe properly like that, sweetheart.”

No, no, don’t call me sweetheart, I’ll break.

“Shadow-ling, Stormcloud, my darling,” the imaginary Roman says instead, “come on…”

Well, now he’s disappointing imaginary Roman too. Figures. He can’t do anything right.

“Of course you can,” the imaginary Roman pleads, “just breathe for me, shadow-ling, I’m right here, I’ve got you, you can keep your eyes closed if you need to, just breathe.”

Another whine. Another kiss pressed against his head. The whine grows louder.

“Shh, shh, my darling,” imaginary Roman murmurs, “breathe, come on, just—trust me, okay? Can I ask that of you, Stormcloud?”

And goddamnit, this is why Virgil can’t do anything.

Virgil trusts him.

So he prepares himself for heartbreak and lifts his head.

“Thank you, shadow-ling,” imaginary Roman—wait, he’s still here?—murmurs, rubbing his back, “there you go, now just breathe—oh! Oh, come here, lean on me, I’ve got you.”

Having listed to the side horribly, Virgil lands against a solidwarmsafereal chest and—and—

“R-Roman?”

“Yes, my darling,” not imaginary Roman says, still kissing Virgil’s forehead, “I’m here, I’m here.”

White-hot rage burns Virgil’s tears.

He lets out a yell and shoves, not caring that it throws them both horribly off-balance, threatening to send him tumbling to the floor. He hears Roman cry out, trying to keep ahold of him, but he scrabbles and gets his hands around the bedpost and pulls.

“Virgil—Virgil stop, you’re going to hurt yourself—“

“Why do you care?” The rage coats his tongue. “You fucking left, you—you—you fucking didn’t care about me anymore, you decided you didn’t want me anymore and you fucking left so don’t try and care now!”

“Virgil—sweetheart, I—“

“Don’t fucking call me that!” He keeps his eyes squeezed tight. “You didn’t give a fuck about me when you left, when you got your fucking family back, you think—you think you can just waltz back in like you didn’t abandon me?”

“Virgil—“

“Because you did, Roman!” Virgil blindly shoves at where the prince was before, knocking him into the wall. “You fucking left me as soon as you got the others back like I—like I never did anything for you and now you—now you can’t even look at me.”

“I’m looking at you now.”

Virgil laughs.

He throws his head back and howls until his chest and throat ache.

“You didn’t give a shit when the others started talking to you. You just fucking up and abandoned me like you never cared about me in the first place. You replaced me with them or—or abandoned me as your placeholder and I’m fucking hurt, Roman.”

“I know.”

“Then why did you do it?”

Silence.

Virgil’s heart stops.

No.

No, no, no, no—

He fucked up.

He fucked up so bad.

Roman left.

Roman’s not here anymore.

Roman left again, he made Roman leave, he—he fucked up so bad, he shouldn’t have yelled, he’s fucked up, he hurt Roman, no, no, no, no—

On instinct, his hands hook into claws.

Only to be caught by warmsolidreal hands and brought to something soft.

“Don’t,” comes Roman’s softsaferealhurt voice, murmuring in his ear as he holds him still, “don’t scratch, sweetheart.”

“Don’t—“

“I know, I know,” Roman says immediately, “you said not to call you that. I’m sorry. I’m so, so, sorry.”

…what?

“I didn’t realize I was hurting you,” comes the voice again, “that’s no excuse, I know, but please, Virgil, I never meant to hurt you. I never meant to abandon you.”

Virgil swallows. “What the fuck do you call it then?”

“I didn’t want to push my luck.”

What?

“You were being so good to me, Virgil,” Roman murmurs, oblivious to the internal struggle Virgil’s currently facing, “so kind, so supportive, that I…I realized I wanted to ask more from you. Things I had no business asking. And the longer you kept on being you, the harder it was to resist the urge to push and risk shattering everything you’d let me build with you.”

“What—“ Virgil swallows— “what the fuck did you want?”

Roman stills in front of him. With his eyes still shut, he can’t tell what’s going on, but when Roman speaks next his voice is hoarse.

“Before I ask,” comes the whisper, “I want you to know that you have every right to say no. You can push me away, shove me out of your room, stay angry at me for as long as you want. I’ve hurt you, badly, and I have no right to ask this of you. I want you to know that. That I’m okay with you asserting that right.”

Fuck, Princey.

“…what do you want?”

A pause. Then a soft rush of air, right on his face.

“May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

Oh.

Oh, no.

“R-Roman?”

“That’s it,” Roman murmurs and oh, his mouth is right next to Virgil’s, “that’s what I want, shadow-ling.”

He shifts a little until Virgil can feel Roman’s warmth.

“That and everything that goes with it.”

“Why—why did you leave? I-if that’s what you wanted?”

“Because that would mean to push,” Roman says immediately, “and the last thing I wanted was to push you away. I thought if I could…rein it in, control it, I could…I wouldn’t hurt you.”

A soft chuckle.

“Look how well that turned out.”

“But the others—“

“I needed Remus to tell me what was going on,” Roman says wryly, “Janus to point out that I was okay in wanting something, Patton to help me figure it out, and Logan to kick my ass into doing it.”

“To…to ask me?”

“Yes, Stormcloud,” comes the whisper, “to ask you.”

“And if I say yes?”

He can feel Roman’s lips turn up.

“…then I’ll kiss you, Stormcloud.”

“Are you really here?”

The question bursts out of him before he can stop it, immediately biting his lip in reprimand for letting it.

“Open your eyes, Virgil,” Roman says softly, “look at me.”

He shakes his head, not wanting it to be imaginary. Not now, not after this. Roman squeezes his hands.

“Look at me, Stormcloud,” he whispers, “look at me.”

Fuck it.

Roman smiles at him, real and warm and soft and here. He squeezes Virgil’s hands again and takes the smallest step closer.

“I’m here,” he says, wrapping Virgil’s arms around his neck, “I’m right here, shadow-ling.”

He’s here.

This won’t fix everything. But it’s one hell of a start.

“Ask me again.”

“May I kiss you, Stormcloud?”

Virgil shakes his head. “Not like that. Ask me properly.”

Confusion dances on Roman’s face before realization hits. His smile widens and he brings a hand to Virgil’s head. Virgil clutches Roman tight as he gets dipped into the prince’s arms. Roman leans forward until his mouth almost catches Virgil’s.

“May I kiss you, sweetheart?”

“Yes.”

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