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#this has felt like the longest week ever and this next week is going to feel even LONGER until the day i get a new ep once again
alwaysalreadyangry · 3 days
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im the very normal kind of person who has started writing silly challengers media fic in the form of fake podcast transcripts
Kat: I was texting with Jake earlier and he’s been doing some real internet sleuthing, I thought he was meant to be on vacation this week — I hoped you’d some sun! But yeah I did catch the latest Art Donaldson updates, that gutting loss… it seemed like he just stuttered out there, like he lost his confidence, usually that kind of thing just wouldn’t have happened before he took time out for injury, he was on top of the world — and look, I know he’s your boy. I know you worry about him. So what have you got for me?
Jake: I just — I was honestly surprised to see Art taking a wildcard to New Rochelle, playing a challengers tournament at all honestly, and I did some digging, and it looks like the only other player of note in the whole thing is his former partner from boys‘ junior doubles in the US open — that’s a mouthful — which they won by the way, back in ‘06. Only for Art to lose to him in the singles final the next day. Looks like they haven’t ever met professionally before though — which isn’t that surprising when you see that the other guy, uh a player named Patrick Zweig, has never achieved much higher in singles than like… a ranking of 100 in his whole pro career, which is going on for thirteen years long now. A journeyman on the tour for sure. He’s had a few giant killer moments — he beat Djokovic in the second round at Wimbledon in ‘09, which might be how some of our longtime listeners can remember the name, I vaguely remember that? And he made to the fourth round of that tournament before getting eliminated by Tommy Haas in a lengthy tiebreak. Pretty heartbreaking if you want to dive into the archives on that one. And he got to round two or three in the US Open that same year, getting beaten by your boy Del Potro on his way to the win.
Kat: that year! that’s why i love tennis!
Jake: Makes me wonder if Tashi — is she looking for a new hitting partner for Art on tour? How long is this guy Zweig going to stay it out as a pro? He’s not getting any younger, and he has these connections that not every player down in the rankings has. Or did Tashi just think a change would be good? Something to ease him back in a bit better… after that brutal injury and the surgery he’s still coming back from? What better way to get back into the love of it all again? Right? To remind you, uh, what it feels like to win? Old friends meeting again, for the first time? Maybe it’ll make him think of what it felt like to be eighteen and golden and untouchable after winning that first trophy. I mean though he — like I said he lost to his friend the next day. I don’t know. Maybe he’s going to rewrite an old hurt, you know? Or he’s just going to rebuild his game with the people he’s known longest. Ah maybe I’m just feeling sentimental and seeing patterns where there aren’t any. But let’s keep an eye on what happens. Could be fun to see if they meet in that final.
Kat: oh for sure. I know how much you love to keep on everything that boy does.
Jake: yeah yeah, just you wait. He’s going to come back big.
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kissitbttr · 10 months
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this is miguel o’hara being a dick
pairing: miguel o’hara x fem!reader
-
miguel knows he’s fucked.
he has been neglecting you, putting his work above your needs and ditched on dates he can’t count with his fingers. at first you were okay, given that you’re dating such a busy man like him, you understand the consequences.
but you’ve had enough. there were nights where you cooked dinner, only to be left untouched by him or where you softly cried yourself in the middle of the night because he was still out. the only time he comes home is when you’re already asleep, then he left to the HQ in the morning before you’ve gotten the chance to wake up.
you confronted him about this. paid a visit to his office before going to work. Jess and Lyla had warned you to not disturb him but you managed to make them back off with a single frightening look.
yes. they are scared of you. a lot of them are. they do not want to test you at all.
the moment you stepped into his office, he didn’t even bother to look. eyes were just too focused on his work that he assumed Jess was the one who walked in.
“oh, you’re fucking your co-worker now?” your tone laced with sarcasm and anger with arms crossed over your chest,
hearing the familiar voice, he had never whipped his head so fast. “y/n? what are you doing here?”
“well” you start, heels clicking against the floor as you step towards him. “since my boyfriend has been MIA for almost a week i figured i should stopped by.”
his head shook, turning his focus back to what he thought mattered most. “not right now, mi amor. I’m working.”
“i can see that, dumbass” you respond in a cold tone. frowning as to why he couldn’t take one second off from that god damn screen. “you and me are going to get breakfast together. now. before i go to work.”
“i told you I can’t. I’m busy” he replies, brushing you off with his hand. “next time.”
“i’m a busy woman too!” your voice shakes, wanting so bad to scream at him and throw that tiny desk at his head. “but I always want to make time for you, Miguel!”
no response. he muttered something under his breath but you couldn’t hear him.
un-fucking-believable
“you’re such a fucking asshole, you know that?” tone laced with venom as you spit the words. clenching your fists by your side as you struggle to hold back the tears. “i feel like this relationship is one sided, the only person that is truly making an effort is me. you don’t—“
Miguel couldn’t take it anymore. he threw a desk and it went flying, thankfully it didn’t hit you. though your eyes went wide in shock, a loud gasp left your lips as you covered your mouth with your hands.
“you’re right! I don’t! I don’t care about some silly little fucking breakfast when the universe depends on me!” he pointed at himself as his irises turned red when he looked at you. his breathing went heavy and he still wasn’t aware how scared you were at him at that point.
“do you have any idea how fucking hard it is to keep all this shit together?! how many people will die if i don’t do what i gotta do! I don’t always like it, y/n but i have to do it! and here you are trying to play house with me it’s fucking pathetic!” he scoffed, putting his hands on hips.
oh he did not realize how much his words hurt.
the room was filled with silence. you stared at him in disbelief but remained a stoic expression. you were taught better than to be weak before any men. Miguel was no exception. your mother would be disappointed if you let a man win.
“wow” you breathed, nodding. “that was a good speech actually, the longest one I’ve ever heard you talking” you tried to sound sarcastic but how you felt and how you sounded failed you.
Miguel was quick to notice this and his features quickly soften. he reached out quickly to hold you.
“cariño i—“
“I’m returning back to my apartment by five. do not fucking look for me” it was final. the way you said it, how your eyes remained empty as you spoke to him. Miguel knew better than to test you,
but he just did and now he’s paying the price,
his heart broke when he heard you said that. you were so tired of him and you just wanted him back. you want your man back but he couldn’t see how that mattered to you.
“baby, please—“
you held your hand as you turned around. “don’t you even think about sending Jess or Miles my way.”
with that you walked out of his office without uttering another word. leaving him speechless and heartbroken. he knew better than to follow you out, it would just make things worse. he was just going to let you cool off.
he didn’t know how long it was gonna take.
it has been almost a month that you two have been living separately. and he’s losing his mind. he can’t sleep, he can’t eat, he can barely walk out of the house without seeing all the things that remind him of you. the team even sensed something is wrong because he has been more short tempered than before and it almost made the rest of spider society terrified of talking to him.
he’s gotten more violent, that’s for sure. every enemy he encountered, he would leave them bleed with their faces unrecognizable. it was his way of taking his stress out. not exactly healthy but it’ll do for now.
but he thinks that this has gotten too far. he misses you terribly, your scent, your laugh, your voice, your body, and mostly… your pussy
God, the amount of times he sniffed your panties while he jacked off as the image of you clouded his mind was simply not enough.
and now here he stands before your apartment door. dressed nicely in a white buttoned up shirt with his sleeves rolled to the elbows and a pair of black pants. his ring cladded fingers nervously grip around the boquete as the other hand shoved into his pocket.
Miguel had never been this nervous before. toeing his shoes and tapping his toes against the floor rapidly. it’s probably already been fifteen minutes that he’s standing like that staring at your door. thinking far too carefully what he wants to say.
he decides it’s now or never as he raises his fist and knock softly against the wooden door, hoping that you’re home.
“coming!” he hears your voice, his stomach somersaults hearing that after what it felt like a thousand year. “i am so hungry, why are you delivery guys always taking so—“
soon as you open the door, you freeze. definitely not the takeout delivery boy and instead it’s the one person you’ve been avoiding for God knows how long.
Miguel’s mouth hangs open slightly as he slowly taking in the sight of the gorgeous woman before him. you put on your favorite lime green night gown that stops just above your knees with a white silky robe, your hair fall down gracefully. natural curls framing your face. eyes glinting under the light, he almost falls to his knees and thank the Lord for your existence.
beauty doesn’t even begin to describe how you look tonight.
Miguel realizes how he probably looks like an idiot. clearing his throat to regain his composure as he smiles awkwardly at you. “Hi.”
you stare at him as your features then showcase a displeased expression. “what are you doing here?”
you’re leaning your body against the doorframe, arms crossed in annoyance. eyes flickering from his face to the flowers he’s holding and back up to his eyes. as much as you hate to see him, you can’t help that little feeling of butterflies in your stomach when you see the flowers he’s holding.
tulips. your favorite
he takes a one step closer to your frame, breathing out a sigh as he looks down at you. “I’m sorry, mi amor.”
that earns a scoff from you, looking away. “good start.”
“i was a horrible boyfriend.” he admits, gulping as he sees how sadness and exhaustion taking over your face just like that. “you don’t deserve that. what i said to you that day… none of it was true. you were not… pathetic, nor were the idea of having breakfast together… I appreciate every single thing we’ve done together, baby. believe me, por favor…”
a hard stare is the only thing he gets from you. the way your lips form into an angry pout and how your eyes seem to get tired and bored from his confession.
you’re a difficult person to please. he knows that.
“i know that being stress is no excuse of what I’ve done… I should’ve—fuck I should’ve done better. a month without you was like hell, mi corazon. ay, me sentí como si estuviera perdiendo la cabeza.” he sighs in frustration, head shaking as he recalls many sleepless nights. “i love you so so much. i do not want to go through that again … i know that it’s going to take forever to get your trust back and everything, but i swear on my mother’s grave that i—“
“stop talking”
he shuts his mouth after that. eyes looking up to you when he realizes you’re talking to him after a prolonged silence that’s taking over.
seeing how broken he looks almost feels like your heart got plucked. as mean as you are or as much as you wanted to look like you don’t care, you can’t when it comes to Miguel. you love this man far too much and despite his cold cold persona, that’s a huge sweetheart underneath.
“you hurt me, Miguel.” eyes casting down the floor as you try to keep your voice low. “you threw a desk to my direction…”
he shakes his head at that, resisting the urge to cradle your cheek. “lo siento, mi amor. I didn’t mean—“
“yes i know, i heard you.” you sigh, eyes closed momentarily. “you scared me”
Miguel feels his heart breaks when he hears how your voice breaks. he carefully lifts his hand to softly palm your cheek, thumb grazing against the skin. he exhales a soft sigh when you aren’t pushing him off.
“I didn’t mean to do that to you, my love. fuck, I’ve hurt you. i will never forgive myself for that. i was supposed to be the one who protect you and i was being a huge asshole.”
“a cute one though” you pout at him,
he chuckles at that, feeling the tension between you two are finally cutting down. “you’re too sweet, baby… after all i had done to you”
“nothing compared to how you treated me for the past two and a half years.” you smile sweetly at him, hand wrapping around his wrist. feeling at home once he holds you in his palm. “still a good man.”
he shakes his head in disagreement. “no, no that doesn’t excuse it… i was in the wrong.”
you hum in response, looking at the pretty flowers still in his hand. “are those for me?”
he nods with a smile, “you’re my only woman, no?”
you bite the inside of your cheek as you smile, taking it from his grasp as you sniff the pretty petals. “i love them. thank you.”
he once again goes quiet, taking another step closer. eyes looking down at your glossy lips and he can’t take it anymore. he doesn’t care if he’s stepping boundaries here. “i miss you, cariño. can i show you just how much?”
his offer sends shiver down your spine, making it impossible for you to stand still. Miguel always knows your sweet spot, how to make your knees feel wobbly without having him to touch you.
you do miss him touching you,
“i have a ballet class to teach tomorrow, papi. Saturday morning class, you remember ?” a pout formed on your lips, yet you still allow him to pull you close to him as he closes the door behind. “plus don’t you have work too? i bet Jess needs you.”
Migue nearly growls at you calling him ‘papi’. his jeans growing tight as you look up to him with doe eyes that you know he loves. though sometimes, you don’t understand the effect you have on him.
“that can wait… you’re more important to me than anything” he whispers, giving your open hand a kiss. large palm coming down to grip your waist, giving it a light squeeze. “do you want me too?”
you respond with a slow nod, biting back a smile as you interlock your hand with his pulling him inside. his smirk grows wider as he leans over to capture your mouth in his,
“let me fuck you real good then we can come home, eh mi vida?” he promises against your lips, slipping your soft silky robe off of you before picking you up in bridal style causing to shriek and giggle,
“i wanna hear you scream my name.”
-
part 2?
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tatsumessy · 1 year
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Missed calls - {itoshi sae}
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“gosh you’re so fucking annoying. I wanted to call my girlfriend so that I could calm down from the huge amount of stress I’m already under and here you are acting like a nagging clingy psycho.” before any other words could be spoken you hung up the phone placing it on the nightstand.
Sae <3: I’m sorry.
Sae <3: y/n?
1 missed call
5 missed calls
12 missed calls
20 missed calls
hearing your phone ring once again you picked up up furiously screaming into the phone. “WHAT?” you yelled out of character, there was silence before he spoke, “you’re ignoring my calls.” without answering you slammed your phone on the nightstand not before turning on do not disturb.
you and sae had gotten in a pretty heated argument which ultimately ended with you hanging up the phone and ignoring it. he is in the states right now for a tournament so he can’t come to you. usually his sullen, dull, asshole personality would be just fine because that’s what you’re used too but this time he went too far.
he seemed like he didn’t even care. he wasn’t due to come back until next month so you opted to block his number leaving him with his “issues” that he has to deal with. if he thinks you’re clingy, fine. you’ll just go on about your business and leave him to do whatever he wanted. he always acts like he doesn’t want to be in a relationship so why not give him the freedom he’s wanted.
sae the moment those words came out his mouth felt like a dick. you were only worried because he had gotten trashed in an interview and it was shown on tv everywhere. he was frustrated and took it out of you, he knew the choice of words that he spoke was wrong but he said it anyways.
after you hung up on him he decided to wait until the morning to talk to you but his text weren’t going through and his calls weren’t either. “I’m sorry, the number you have dialed-” he tossed his phone on the hotel bed grabbing his head in frustration. his day was already starting horrible, usually you two would call each other in the morning and talk about what you’d do during the day so that you two knew when to call each other later.
two weeks passed and at this point he had called your number at least 40 times a day. any free second he had he would call you or text you, this is the longest you two had ever gone without talking to each other and he was seriously getting worried. getting back to his hotel for the night he laid down on his back holding his phone above his face. his phone was basically stuck on your contact card and that was the only form of you he had besides the endless albums of you in his photos or his rotating lockscreen picture.
he backed out of your contact and went to his brother’s reluctantly pressing the call button and waiting for him to answer. “what?” he spoke and sae was already rolling his eyes at his brother attitude. “can you check on y/n?” rin let out an annoyed sigh and sae could hear shuffling on his end of the phone. “y/n are you okay?” he heard you say yeah in the background confused then he heard more shuffling before rin spoke up again.
“she’s fine.” he was about to hang up but sae needed to ask, “why are you with y/n?” “we have dinner ever sunday together.” before any more questions could be asked rin hung up the phone leaving sae feeling more empty than he already was.
a month passed and now with him coming home he was excited to see you but he needed to win this game before going home to you.
you were sitting in your car outside of the stadium debating on whether or not you wanted to go in. you had never missed any of his home games and you didn’t want to start, you just kept going back to your argument. the night sae called rin, that was the only time he had ever come over to yours and sae’s apartment for dinner. you had spoken to him about what happened and even though him and his brother aren’t really that close he gave you good advice.
“sae is an asshole, that not a secret. he doesn’t think before he speaks and doesn’t think about the damage his words can cause. all I have to say is he has never called me for anything relatively important but he just called me to ask if you were okay. I can’t speak for him, he said what he said and now he’s paying the price for it. only speak to him when you are ready.” he ended with that before leaving.
last night when you unblocked his number all the messages and missed calls that you missed flowed through your phone all at once. tears prickled on your bottoms lash line reading all of his text messages. the last one had you crying yourself to sleep while hugging his pillow.
sae <3: this is the last message I’ll send tonight. tomorrow we’re coming back and I would love to see you. I know you are probably still upset with me and I would be too. I hurt the person I love so bad to the point where we haven’t spoken in a month. I miss you, I love you and if you come to the game and even though I’m we haven’t worked things out, if you wear my jersey tomorrow I’ll know that we’ll be okay. sweet dreams princess i love you.
he was right, you were still pissed but you missed sae, prior to the argument he’d been gone for a month already and that made you miss him so much more. the sheets didn’t smell like him anymore nor did his pillow. you wanted sae back but you weren’t going to make it easy for him. unzipping your jacket you slipped the long sleeve over your head then pulled down the mirror to fix your hair and makeup.
~
you sat in the VIP section in your normal seat playing on your phone until the game ended. everyone stood up leaving the area while you stayed put, you could see sae being interviewed by someone but because of the distance you couldn’t tell if he was actually paying attention which irked your nerves. he was always so rude to people whenever they interviewed him but went through with them because you asked.
a couple of minutes passed and once almost all the people were gone you noticed sae started to walk towards your direction so you stood up and walked down the steps stopping at the railings that was separating the two of you. “y/n…” he spoke stopping right infront of you, looking at him you kind of glared trying to hide how much you missed him. more silence filled his ears and out of defeat he dropped his head taking a deep breath.
suddenly a small quiet sniffle sounded and he looked back up with tears in his eyes. “I can’t lose you, I fucked up I know I did. if you want to punish me some more then do it but please stop ignoring me I physically can’t do it anymore, I can’t live without you.” standing there you looked at him in shock, he’s never cried before especially over something like this.
“meet me in the tunnel.” “no.” he quickly responded jumping up and climbing over the railing. he landed immediately taking you into his arms, you gasped at his action but ultimately wrapped your arms around him gently rubbing his back. for a quick second you could feel him shaking but you may have been imagining it.
he pulled back keeping his arms wrapped around you so that he could admire what he missed in these two months. “you look gorgeous, I love you princess.”
“I know you do, you and your 1,882 calls” he laughed awkwardly as you pressed a small kiss on his sweaty jawline smiling up at him. “I love you too.”
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lavendermunson · 3 months
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mine - steve harrington
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summary you get separated from the love of your life after spending the best night together, would the universe bring you back to him? based on this request, thank you so much!
cw college!steve, college!reader. fluff, angst and more angst then more fluff. modern times!! allusions to sex. reader wears glasses sometimes.
w.c 9.2k
a/n created a playlist for this one (i struggled a little bit and the songs helped) thank you to @stveharringtn and @ihatepeanutss for reading the early chapter and motivating me to continue ily! NO PROOFREAD BECAUSE IM EXCITED
dividers by @saradika
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I. Left a small town and never looked back.
Due to your parents' jobs, you had to move frequently, and the longest you stayed in one place was three years. You were so used to this, following the single rule for yourself: never get attached.
One problem, it was impossible not to fall for Steve Harrington. 
You met Steve in Hawkins, and the three years you spent together were magical. Talking late at night, going to the movies, and hanging out by the lake. Holidays were always spent with him, you invited him to your house, and your parents loved him. Even though your little brother was only 8 years old, he knew Steve was important to the family.  
The last year of high school was just around the corner. You’ve talked to Steve about graduating together, going to college, and spending the rest of your lives together. Watching each other through all the ups and downs of adulthood, you knew Steve was going to stay with you no matter what, he would be there for you, and you would be there for him. It was all a perfect dream, you’d have someone to celebrate your victories and cheer you up when the inevitable bad luck followed you around.
That dream was crushed when your parents told you they had to move again. You were heartbroken, and even more so because you were going to be separated from your favorite person. It was the first time you'd broken the rule, you got attached to Steve, and you fell in love with him.
The news broke him. He couldn’t sleep for the rest of the week, he wanted to be with you all the time, like you promised.
———
Before leaving Hawkins, you decided to confess your feelings for him. It felt wrong to pack that secret into your suitcase. Steve felt the same, he liked you too, but he didn’t want to admit he was in love with you yet. He decided to make your last day at Hawkins the best day you’ve ever had.
The first stop was the diner outside of town to eat burgers, fries, and milkshakes like you always do. At your favorite booth, this time it had a vase with flowers in the center of the table and a beanie babie.
“This is the one I saw in the magazine.” You take the white stuffed bear, it has a red ribbon around his neck and an embroidered red heart. 
“In case you need someone to hug,” he says, looking at the laces of his shoes and holding back his tears.
“Smells good! I’m so hungry.” You saw the way his smile faded, changing the subject was better than crying already. You had to enjoy the night.
While sipping from your freshly made milkshakes— stealing the cherry on top of his milkshake as usual—and watching Steve go over the old jukebox to play your favorite songs, the pocket of his jeans ended up empty from using all the coins he had.
“Get up! We have to dance.” Steve stands up, reaching for your hand.
He had to choose wisely for the next song, it was the last coin he had, so of course Be My Baby, by The Ronettes, was playing. He took your hand, squeezing it, and placed his free hand on your back to keep you closer. You rest one of your hands on his chest, feeling his heart beat fast for you.
Everyone in the diner was watching you, but you didn’t care. You were in the arms of your boy, your love, and it was the last night with him before a while. You had to dance like nobody was watching.
Leaving the checkered floor and the red booths, the second stop was the theater, cuddling while watching ‘Before Sunrise’ . It's one of your favorite movies, and it came back to the big screen for its anniversary.
Both of you get the feeling that it is the perfect movie to watch on a day like this. It was perfect because you don’t know what’s going to happen with you two in the future, just like Celine and Jesse. Your love for each other looks like that, it feels like that, and the best part is that it’s real, not something written for a movie. You aren’t acting or performing. You are feeling it.
You feel so lucky you didn’t meet him for just one night, you had spent so much time with Steve. The endless walks around the park and picking flowers in spring while he holds the basket and you place your favorites on it so you can take them home. The fun summers, hanging out by the pool, and eating a lot of ice cream—one of those years you had free ice cream thanks to Steve working at Scoops Ahoy. You spent the entire summer making fun of his tiny sailor suit, not wanting to admit he looked really good in it. 
Fall was always fun, dressing up for Halloween, and joining the kids to trick or treat, so at the end, you can steal some of their best candy bars. The adorable winter, playing in the snow and getting your nose red, drinking hot cocoa and marshmallows while watching Christmas movies.
Everything comes back to your mind like you were watching your movie. Feeling safe and loved with Steve’s arms around you. You never fought before, nothing went bad, but everything was over. For a while.
Steve holds your hand while you walk through the parking lot. The night sky is decorated with stars, so big and bright. He interlocks his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand as you walk to his BMW. 
The last stop is Lover’s Lake. He parks his car in the usual spot—your favorite spot. It’s the best place to feel the magic of the water mixed with the light of the moon. A reminder that you exist on the same planet, even if the miles come between you.
The radio starts to play ‘Don’t you forget about me’. The song was perfect. You take a deep breath. This is a moment you will remember forever.
Both sitting in the hood of his car, he hugs you, shielding you from the cold breeze, and kisses the top of your head while your back rests against his chest. The tears start to spill from your eyes, rolling down your cheeks. You can't hold the sobs, your chest is giving up.
“Hey, hey!” He turns you around, softly cupping your face between his hands and rubbing the tears away with his thumbs.
“Don’t you dare forget about me,” you whisper, as if the trees were going to be disturbed by your sobs.
“I won’t, I’ll call you every day. But I am going to miss you so much,” he whispers back. 
“I’m scared, Stevie,” you sob, tangling your arms around his neck. “What if we can’t make it?”
“We will, we got this. The love I have for you is stronger than anything else, we won’t let the distance break us.”
“Do you promise?”
“I promise”
Pressing his thumbs against your cheeks, he gets close to you. Your lips touch, and it feels like thousands of fireworks light up inside you. You feel one of his hands slide down your arm, and it makes you shiver. His hand rests on your waist and gives it a little squeeze. You jump closer to him than before, and you can feel his lips turn into a grin.
It wasn’t your first kiss with him. You kissed sometimes while playing spin the bottle or when Steve wanted to teach you how to kiss better.
“We will get through this. I'll see you again, and we can live the rest of our lives together.”
He kisses you again, and you open your mouth as he pushes your face to the side with his thumb. He slides his tongue to join yours and get more of the way you taste, honey, strawberries and cherries. Steve is being patient, taking his time brushing his tongue against yours and humming at how good it feels.
This kiss felt more magical, it made your insides bubbly, and your cheeks got warmer. But inside you, the clock was ticking, you had to savor this moment in case the universe turned against you again.
He breaks the kiss, trying to slow his breath. You do the same, opening your eyes slowly.
“I won’t do anything, not tonight." His voice is soft, but the tone is deeper. He feels a knot in his throat. “But next time, I promise I will make you feel so good.”
“I know, next time and the others. There’s only a couple of months left for summer break, and we will see each other again.”
“We will, baby. Now kiss me before I fall to the floor, you look so pretty tonight as you always do.”
“You are beautiful, Stevie.”He kisses you again, not getting enough of you. He kissed you before you went inside the house and he would’ve kissed you a thousand times more if he knew it was going to be the last time.
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II. Wondering why we bother with love if it never lasts. 
You were disconnected and heartbroken by the time you spent the first week of your last year of high school at a different school. Steve picked a few shifts a week at the local coffee shop after school, always with Robin by his side.
Hawkins felt so empty without you. Every time he saw a happy couple smiling, kissing, or hugging, he felt nauseous and jealous. His friends knew how he felt, they missed you too, but they never stopped calling you. 
The only thing that kept him going were your calls, you called every single night. Tell him about your day, your new school, and your new friends. He tells you about school, work, Robin, and the kids. It was good, he loved hearing your voice and watching you through his screen.
“I can’t believe it! I told you! Steve Harrington’s first A+ essay, and without my help. I feel a little wounded, you don’t need me at all!”
He felt so proud of himself. You were the last one to know about it but you are the most excited one. Even more excited than him.
“You are a great tutor, all those tips and seeing my practice essays marked with a pink glittery pen helped me a lot”
“I'm so proud of you, you are capable of anything I know!”
“Honey…” Steve’s worried face makes your heart sink.
“Yes?”
“I’m always going to need you. I can’t live without you.”
You press both of your hands against your chest as if that were going to soothe your pain. The damage you caused him is evident, you shouldn’t have broken that stupid rule.
“I miss you, Stevie. I can’t do this without you.”
“I miss you too, honey. And you can, you have me here. Always”
Steve feels his head heavier each minute, the long hours at the coffee shop kill him. 
“We should go to sleep, yeah?” he says, noticing your sleepy face. 
“We should. Good night. Call me tomorrow!”
“Please, I don’t know if I can survive without hearing your voice”
You get closer to your camera, blowing him a kiss.
“I’ll annoy you with my voice every night, honey!”
“I’d love that baby. Good night,” he says, blowing a kiss back.
When you hang up, he tosses his laptop to the floor. It falls on the pile of unwashed clothes he has. 
“Weird,” he says to himself, looking at his laptop resting on the clothes. He takes a look around his room. It’s a mess, he makes a mental note to clean it, and he can’t stress over it right now.
Steve lays with his back against the mattress. He remembers the way you brought your hands up to your chest. He does the same, hoping to understand why you did it.
His warm palms rest against his chest, now he knows. He feels it. Steve applies a bit of pressure to his chest, closing his eyes and trying to fall asleep.
So much for trying, it felt like maybe five minutes had passed, and when he glanced at his clock, it was six a.m. His alarm was about to go off, and he had to go downstairs, make breakfast, and get on his way to pick Robin up to go to school.
That’s when he lets out a sob. Time does pass without you, the world doesn’t stop, and he gets even more scared than before. 
Don’t you forget about me.
He grabbed his phone, clicking on his texts. You’ve already said good morning to him.
‘Good morning baby. I'll miss you forever. Have a nice day! Love you”
That’s when he takes a moment to reply. 
‘Good morning, hope you slept well. I love you too.”
And then he gets out of bed to spend another day without you by his side. Knowing you are slipping through his fingers already.
———
Three weeks later.
The calls stopped being frequent, sometimes you were too tired, or sometimes he was too tired. 
“I have to go, I'm exhausted. Can I call you tomorrow?” you ask him.
Steve had to ignore the arrow that just shot through his heart, he wasn’t ready to say goodbye. The more he talked to you, the more he missed you. When he knew you weren’t going to make it for the summer break he felt his heart break, every time he woke up he was already crying.
This broke your heart too, not being able to see him, or visit your friends. It felt like some strange and strong force was keeping you away and pushing you farther.
“Of course, honey. Sweet dreams”
“Sweet dreams, Stevie.”
He closes his laptop after you hang up, tossing it aside. The pile of clothes seems to be bigger. He swears to do it tomorrow, or the day after tomorrow. Whenever he feels like he is alive.
Four months later.
The rush hour at the coffee shop ends up killing Steve’s back, and his feet are burning. To his surprise, his parents are home.
Can this day get any worse? Yes, you haven’t texted him back since yesterday.
"Steve, are you still wasting your time at that damn coffee shop?” His dad shouts he doesn’t have time for this. “Steve?”
He hears his dad’s heavy steps behind him. He catches Steve at the first step of the stairs.
“Didn’t you hear me? Say something!”
“I’m not wasting my time, I'm saving up for college,” Steve whispers. He can feel his dad’s warm breath against his face, and he can smell the whiskey too. 
“College? You are going to work for me, right?”
“No?”
“Then why go to college in the first place?”
Steve pushes his dad away, and his mother joins them.
“It’s clear, John.” she says.
“Say it, Steve.”
“To get the fuck away from you, that’s why,” Steve spits out. His eyes were burning, and tears were threatening to fall.
He gets away from them, locking himself in his room. He doesn’t mind looking at his phone or picking up his laptop, he just wants to fall asleep and get this over with. It has been such a long day.
Six months later.
It’s been a long time since you’ve talked to each other.
“Are you tired?” You ask, and he has been rubbing his eyes for the third time now. “You don’t have to hang up, carry me to your bed.”
Steve leaned his head to the side, just as a confused puppy does. 
“C’mon, I’ll read you a story so you can fall asleep. Like old times.”
“Are you sleeping late?”
“I have assignments to finish, I need to catch up with a few classes because I fell behind.”
“You’ll do great, honey. You are the smartest person I know!”
“Steve Harrington, you are the smartest person I know. We are a couple of months away from college and i'm really excited”
“Me too honey, it sucks you couldn’t come here for summer break”
You will see each other, you will. 
Steve shakes his head with a smile plastered on his face, holding the laptop in his hands. He lets himself lie under his sheets, fixing his pillow and resting his head on it. 
"Are you ready?” you ask him, sitting on your desk and getting comfortable for a long night.
“Ready, no scary tales, please!"
“I promise! Close your eyes now!”
Steve takes the last glance at you, his fingers reaching to touch his screen as if he were touching your face. But he can’t, you are too far away now and it kills him.
“Goodnight”
The bubbly feeling in your chest goes away when you don’t hear a nickname. No honey, no baby. 
“Goodnight!” You wait until his eyes are closed. “And we begin, once upon a time."
Steve falls asleep before getting to know what the story is about, he was so tired and this is the first time he has slept more than three hours.
You close your laptop after watching him turn to the other side. You are trying to return your attention to your assignments, but the only thing you can feel is your heart breaking again. The hope you once had is now fading away. You are managing to live without him, but you don’t want to. 
Steve regrets it. He regrets falling asleep. This time he didn’t wake up seeing your face, he didn’t get to hear your bedtime story, and he didn’t get to tell you how much he loved you. And he regrets it so much because it was the last time he heard your voice.
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III. And every time I look at you it’s like the first time
Two years later.
Steve had a hard time finishing high school, but he did. Later, he had to retake a year, but he saved up some money with Robin to move to college. After jumping up and down and celebrating with their friends their acceptance letters, they got into the college dorms for the first year, but that went very badly because they couldn’t be roommates and all the noise from the dorm building was constantly giving them a headache.
He saw Nancy and Jonathan when they all came back from college over the summer break, hanging up with them was the best. They helped him and Robin choose the best apartment outside of college, it was close to the new coffee shop they were working on and close to their buildings. He never saw you again, you were too busy to travel, and he was too. Mindlessly forgetting about each other and not meeting again hurt less. 
When he had to retake a year, he hesitated to call you. He was ashamed of himself, you were supposed to go to the same college in the same year. 
When he finally got his acceptance letter, he didn’t call you. Steve had a feeling you got into college and that your life was going well. He knew he was right.
But it had a good outcome, Steve retook his senior year and moved in with his best friend to start a new chapter in his life. A life that he wanted to enjoy, free from the pressure of his parents and the small town that made him feel so small.
Their first year wasn’t easy. Steve spent most of his time in his dorm, and Robin did too. They didn’t go to parties and didn’t seem too excited about meeting new people.
He felt like a total stranger like he didn’t belong there. He picked the same coffee shop he was working in to hang out, he picked the public library over the school library because it looked terrifying.
Steve spent most of his weekends and days off studying, he was at the top of his class. Whenever he wrote an essay, it reminded him of you, but not as a sign of hope, just a reminder of his small town years.
Robin spent most of her weekends traveling to Hawkins to meet her girlfriend, Chrissy. Taking Steve’s car and cleaning it for him as a thank you.
Steve didn’t meet anyone else, he didn’t want to get attached. If anyone leaves, what’s the point? He was only close to two of his classmates, that was enough for him.
———
“Do you know who’s moving in?” your roommate asks, Diana was always aware of every gossip around college. It was your second year being her roommate, she slowly became your best friend.
“No, who?” You ask, not really wanting to know but giving her satisfaction again.
“A new couple! I hope they aren’t as loud as the last ones.”
“Please, I need to buy new headphones just in case.”
Diana laughs, walking towards her room to place some of the new boxes she moved in. You asked if she wanted help, but she didn’t because her brand new date was going to join her.
You decided to head up to the public library, knowing you had never been there and wanting to explore a new world. It was a couple of blocks away so you had to take the bus.
———
Steve and Robin were driving around their new neighborhood, looking for their new apartment. They were singing the songs on the radio, even if Robin didn’t know most of them because her music taste was original. But Steve knew every one of the trendy songs.
They stopped at a red light. Robin got distracted by two dogs ‘kissing’ each other. Steve looked away with a face of disgust, and that’s when his eyes fell on you.
He wasn’t sure if it was his imagination, were you really there? Was he hallucinating? Maybe the smell of coffee is doing some damage to his brain.
But it was you, wasn’t it? without the signature choker, without the thousands of bracelets, and without the red lipstick always staining his shirts. Then it wasn’t you. You had glasses now, a gold chain around your neck, and your hair was slightly lighter.
The bus blocks his view; he wants to scream at it to move, and when it does, you disappear—or the hallucination he had of you disappeared—the honk of the car behind him makes him jump, the green light is on, and he has to move.
“Steve! Are you okay?” Robin shouts, scanning Steve’s face. He looks pale, confused, and scared.
“I think I just saw a ghost,” he says, looking over Robin and then the road ahead.
“You are only nervous, the apartment will be good, don't worry. If they scam us, we have Chrissy to defend us in court.”
“Yeah, stop it lovebird. We are here.”
The apartment buildings look so tall, almost intimidating. Steve drives around looking for the parking lot, and when he finds it, he and Robin take a moment to process it.
"I'm scared too, but we should go in. The moving truck will be here, and we will have a lot to do,” Robin says, taking Steve’s hands and giving them a light squeeze. “We got this”
“Yeah, we should go in now.”
They go over to their apartment, meet their landlord, and get their keys. The moving truck comes a couple of hours earlier, and they move in their new stuff after cleaning the apartment.
A couple of empty boxes and a lot of wrapping paper later, they are done. They only need the heavy couch.
“Even if I help you, we won’t be able to do it”
“I know! I’m thinking”
Steve and Robin are stressed now. Steve’s hair is disheveled already, and Robin’s mascara is smudged around her eyes. They had a long drive, and now they are so tired of getting the apartment ready.
“We should just knock at our neighbors. Their screams stopped.”
“Yeah, I should buy new headphones for that.”
He points in the hallway. Robins walks out of the apartment and knocks on the door. After a few knocks, the door opens, and Steve joins them.
“Steve? You are Nick’s friend, right? I saw you with him the other day,” a guy asks, introducing himself as Eric.
“Uhh yes, Nick! Nice to meet  you."He shakes his hand. “This is Rob, my friend.”
“Nice to meet you!” Eric says, “This is my..."
“I’m Diana, nice to meet you guys,” she waves at them.
“So, we need help moving on our couch. Could you help us?” Robin asks.
“Please, we are a great team, but that couch is very heavy,” Steve says. “What if you help us, and we invite you to eat some pasta? I saw a new Italian restaurant a few blocks away.
“Sure, we can help!” Diana says.
The four of them carry the couch with ease into Steve and Robin’s apartment, they thank their new neighbors, and they all high five, looking proud of themselves. 
“Thank you again, guys, we should go. I'm starving!” Robin smiles at them, and they all nod but Diana.
“Can I invite my friend? She can meet us there,” Diana asks. They all nod, but Eric.
“No way! She hates me,” he says, shaking his head, taking Diana’s hand, and stopping her from going into their apartment. 
“I told you it would take time. She is protecting me,” she says, dragging Eric with her into her apartment. “We will see you guys in a minute.”
“Sure, take your time,” Steve says. Their neighbors leave and shut the door behind their backs.
When they are gone, he wraps his hands around Robin’s neck. He looks over the apartment and smiles.
“We made it,” he says.
“We made it!” She says back, hugging his waist and rubbing his back.
They break the hug after a few minutes, looking over the almost finished apartment. There’s some stuff left to unpack.
“Wait for Chrissy to see this, she is going to love it.”
“Is she coming? Tomorrow?” Steve asks, looking at his friend and her lovesick smile.
“Yes! I think I'll finally ask her the question"
“Already? Isn't it too soon?”
“Dingus, when you know, you know. Life is short, we can’t lose time stressing over everything,” she says, rubbing his shoulders. “You will find someone, maybe not, you know who, or maybe you will. Let time choose.”
He knew Robin was talking about you. Even if Steve moved on and got his shit together, he was still missing you and the part of him you took with you. No matter how many dates he had, how many times Hopper talked to him. He wanted you, something far from impossible. 
“You should write that on a note and put it in the fridge." They both laugh. "I'm very proud of you.”
“Don’t make fun of me, or you will lose your best man spot. I will give it to Eddie.” Robin gets a napkin out of a box and cleans her mascara.
“Hey! Who used to drive you everywhere and still does?”
“I'm joking!”
“I know,” he says, giving her a pat on the back. “Good luck with your proposal.”
“I still need a ring, not all of us carry our grandmother’s rings everywhere we go.”
“Shut up! I'll help you get a ring.”
“Yes!”
They high five again, and they hear knocks on the door. They see their neighbors again.
“My friend isn’t coming, I think she is with her boyfriend. But we can go now!”
“Yay! Sorry about your friend."Robin gets closer to Diana, leaving Steve behind with Eric.
“Aren’t you together?” he asks.
“No, we are friends. Platonic with a capital P!” Steve replies, walking to the door and joining the girls.
“Cool, maybe you can date Teddy and smooth the anger out of her,” Eric says.
“Teddy?” Steve asks, walking to the parking lot.
“Oh, Di’s best friend,” he says, pointing at Diana. “She has this weird ass white teddy bear, and since then, I call her Teddy.”
“Oh, funny,” Steve says. A weird white teddy bear? No, no, it can’t be. His heart pounds harder against his chest, and he gets back to that night. The diner, the flowers, the beanie baby, and then someone who looked like you at the bus stop.
This can’t be real, he won’t get his hopes high again.
“Are you okay, man? You look scared,” Eric asks Steve, stopping him after he puts the key on his BMW. “Can you drive?”
“Yeah, I can. Don’t worry,” Steve says, his free hand over his chest. “It’s just something that happens.”
“He sees ghosts!” Robin shouts, making everyone laugh.
“We should walk guys, it isn’t that far,” Diana adds.
“Yeah, we could use some fresh air,” Robin says.
They all walk to the restaurant, enjoying a fun night. All of them get the feeling they’ll be close, but tonight they treat each other as strangers. Not sharing all but funny stories and college adventures.
———
When Diana gets home, you are already there, she walks over to the couch to wake you up and help you get to bed.
“Did you talk to Jake?”
“He picked me up from the library, we didn't-"
“Another time will come."
You hum, walking with her to your room. She closes the door, and you walk towards your bed, put your pajamas on, and slip into bed. You try to sleep, trying to keep all the midnight-crushing thoughts away, with the BMW in the parking lot on your mind, it looks very familiar.
———
It’s only 8 a.m, and you sit at home, eating your oatmeal bowl with strawberries, bananas, and a cup of coffee you’ve made yourself. You point to the cup you made for Diana, it has been sitting there for a few minutes. Maybe she wanted a cold brew instead of a nice hot cup. 
“One is Rob, and the other... I don’t remember.”
“Di! You are really bad with names.”
“Are you sure you don’t want ice on your coffee?” you joke.
“No, and yeah, I was a little stoned too, that’s why I don’t remember well.”
“That’s always going to cost you, babe.”
“I know, but I can introduce them later! We are all going to a party, and Rob will pick us up after work because the girl had to see her girlfriend.” She chugs her cup of coffee and puts her jacket on.
“Are you sure his name is Robert?”
“No, it’s Rob!” She still looks unconvinced, but you leave it. “Anyway, is Jake picking you up?”
“I don’t know, we aren’t really on speaking terms.” 
Jake was your boyfriend a couple of weeks before he asked you for a break, and you haven’t “fixed it." He picked you up from the library yesterday, and the whole ride home was quiet and uncomfortable, but something tells you it isn't going to last.
“Call him! He is good for you.”
“I’m not sure about that, but I’ll see you later then.”
“I’ll see you later, babe!”
“Be careful!”
———
You finish washing the dishes and go back to your room to get ready for the party. Minutes later, Diana and Eric show up to drive you to the house. It’s the first party of the semester, and everyone seems pretty excited about it except you. You know if you see Jake again, he will probably break up with you, rip off the band-aid, and go to the girl who has been hanging out with him at the gym.
But you go, not wanting to miss out and excited to see some of your friends who arrived in town. It might not be the best night, but at least you’ll have a cup of cranberry juice with vodka to survive.
You arrive at the party early, not wanting to talk to anyone, yet you get closer to the table in the middle of the dining room and make yourself a cape cod. When it’s done, you get to the living room and sit on the couch, watching as people come over, and some of them wave at you and say hi before going for their drink.
Jake arrives with a girl by his side, He gets closer to her ear to whisper something, and she turns around as he walks to you.
“Can we talk?”
“You are going to break up with me, aren’t you?” You pinch your eyebrows together. 
“Let me explain.”
He sits on the arm of the couch you are sitting on, so close to you. You can already hear his words muffling and how sorry he is about all of it, making up excuses to let you know it’s not your fault he is doing this and the two of you should end your relationship now. Avoid telling the truth and spinning around the subject, reminding you of all the good moments but also all the fights and “breaks” you had.
You look at him through your eyelashes, your tears rolling down your cheeks. Your now ex-boyfriend pinches your chin with his fingers, not letting your gaze fall to your lap or the cup you hold in your hand. He whispers “I’m sorry” thousands of times more, and you refuse to move, feeling the warmth of his fingers against your face for the last time. Then he leaves you alone to find his date, and you wish the earth could swallow you whole.
———
When Steve gets to the party with Robin and Chrissy by his side, he lets the two of them look for a place while he gets their drinks. The house is so tiny that everyone is squeezing each other and bumping into each other on the way to other rooms. Everything smells like alcohol and weed, and even the floor is sticky, but after all, Steve manages to get to the dining room and look for the red solo cups. He takes one and pours tequila into it. He drinks it, feeling the burn down his throat as he keeps his eyes closed. He needs more of these to survive the night.
He looks around, recognizing some people he used to see around in his first year, some of them are customers in the coffee shop he works in. When his head looks over to the living room, he sees the girl from the bus stop, the one who looks like you. 
Steve gets even more confused as you chug your drink, the solo cup covering your face. He turns his head away from the view, even if it’s not you, his mind betrays him.
Where’s the real you? What are you doing right now? Do you have a boyfriend? A girlfriend? A child? A cat? Are you married? 
The question that hurts more is the one he used to think about almost every night. Would he see you again?
He tries to enjoy the party as soon as he sees the girl leave. He misses watching Diana run after you and try to comfort you. 
Your friend takes you home, and Steve stays until the party is over, and he is a bit more sober to take Robin and Chrissy back to their apartment.
———
“Robin? Why did you leave so soon?” Steve asks Robin over the phone, while he tosses empty boxes and bags around.
“We are getting you breakfast! Jesus, what’s your problem?”
“I’m hungover, and I forgot I have to send this email before twelve, but I can’t find my laptop charger, and I can’t find yours either!”
“Shit, I took mine because Chrissy needed my laptop, but I'm sure yours is in your room. We unpacked everything.”
“Fuck! I’ll call you back.”
“Ask Diana for one!”
Stressed out, Steve hangs up the phone before listening to Robin’s last words. Of course, he can ask his neighbor for a favor, and he knows Diana is nice. 
He gets out of his apartment, and a few steps later, he gets in front of the door. He knocks a lot of times to get Diana’s attention, or maybe Eric’s. Steve doesn’t remember if they got back here from the party, but it’s worth trying.
As the door opens, he takes a step forward. “Hey! My laptop charger broke, and I have to send this very important  email-" He takes a deep breath, not believing who is in front of them. “What-”
“It’s you,” he whispers, feeling a knot in his throat and rubbing his clammy hands together.
“It’s me” You rub your eyes one more time, getting rid of the blur on your eyes from being woken up. “Steve?” Your heart starts to beat against your chest so fast that you swear it’s hurting you.
Steve stares at you, it’s like the first time he saw you all those years ago. He didn’t believe in love at first sight until he felt his body giving up and just yearning for you. He feels it all again, you look even more beautiful than before, but with your signature heavy gaze. 
“I'm sorry if I’m interrupting, I can just...“
“No? no. Uh, come in, let me find my charger.”
This is not how you imagined seeing him again. The last time you dreamt about him, you were seeing him for the first time at the Hawkins airport, You ran to him, and he caught you in his arms, kissing every inch of your face. And now, with your heart beating faster than ever and your feet carrying you to your room, you can’t help but feel like you are having a nightmare.
You hurry up, find your charger, and run back to Steve.
“Here, you can keep it. I have two of them,” you say. He still looks at you with his mouth slightly open and his eyes studying every part of your face.
Keep it. He knows you are doing this because you are nice, but a part of you still recognizes all the love you once had for him. Or have, because it never faded away. It’s still your Steve, slightly older and with a confused expression on his face. 
He takes the charger from your hands, your fingers touching him for a couple of seconds. When you finally lock eyes with him, you can see his glassy eyes while yours look the same. He didn’t want to believe it was you, you were so close all this time.
“I thought i’d never see you again,” you whisper, almost inaudible, but he can hear it. As if its ears were trained to hear even the lowest tone of your voice. 
But the air feels tense, awkward. He doesn’t say anything, and you stand in front of him like before, frozen in your place as a wave of anxiety washes you over. You stare at each other, trying to avoid all these feelings rushing through your veins.
“I need to send this email, I’ll be right back.”
He goes back to his apartment, leaving you and your overwhelming feelings alone. You close the door to your apartment and take some time to process everything. Steve is here, your Steve. The boy you once called the love of your life, the only boy you’ve ever loved.
You weren’t sure you were going to see him again. You gave up on it a few months ago, knowing it would take a miracle to see him again. And he was so close to you all this time.
When you hear the knock on the door again, you open it faster this time. Steve stands up in front of you, watching your tears roll down your cheeks. He wraps his arms around your body, hugging you so tightly as if you were going to disappear. Your arms hug his torso, letting your head fall against his chest for a second before your sighs turn into sobs.
“I can’t believe it’s really you,” Steve whispers, convincing himself to not let you go. He fears the alarm will go off and he will have to wake up from his dream. 
“I know, it feels like a dream, please don’t let go,” you say, as if you were reading his mind all this time. 
“I won’t”
Steve rests his chin on your head, letting his own tears fall. You stay in the hug for a long time, feeling his warmth against your body, and his arms push you closer to him. You dig your fingers in his back, wanting to feel him more and wishing for this not to be some sick joke.
He places one of his hands on your head, kissing your forehead, before leaning back and searching for your face.
“Hi,” you say as you look at him, tears on his face just like yours.
“Hi,” he smiles, slightly. You do the same, looking at every inch of his face. Remembering all the moles your mind seemed to forget with the time.
You admire each other, letting your mind take you back to Hawkins and all those years you spent together.
“I missed you so much,” he says, slicing the awkward silence with a knife, now rubbing your back and trying to get you relaxed. As your sobs stop, you let go of him and invite him inside.
“I missed you too.” You smile again. The inches separating you are killing you, but there’s too much to say and feel.
“You stopped calling,” Steve says, with a sour tone in his voice you’ve never heard before.
“The phone works both ways.” You bite back, crossing your arms in front of your chest. Protecting you from what’s coming.
“I-” Steve mutters, avoiding your eyes and looking all over the room.
“You? What? Did you forget about me?” you ask. “We made a promise.”
The mix of feelings that sit right at the top of your chest starts to reveal themselves. It’s all so confusing, and you weren’t prepared for this. You want to blame him for the time lost, but you know it’s also your fault.
“Why are you bringing this up right now? I saw you for the first time at a fucking bus stop and thought I was going crazy. It’s too much!”
Steve feels relieved; his mind wasn’t betraying him, and he wasn’t going crazy. It was really you—the new you. 
“Just say the truth. You didn’t answer my call when I got into college or when I moved in.”
“You called?”
“I called your house since you didn’t reply to my texts or emails. No one answered.”
“I got into a fight with them, and I moved in with Hopper. I was having a hard time, I’m sorry.”
He confesses. You see the way his lips turn into a pout, his tears threatening to fall again.
“What happened?”
“I messed up, had to retake a year.”
"Oh,” it’s the only thing you can think of. Some things made sense, but you still had a lot of questions.
“I didn’t tell you because I was embarrassed and so disappointed in myself. No one heard about you, or your family, so I thought you didn’t want to see me, and I had the feeling you were fine without me.”
“We had to move again, two times. But this is the college of our dreams, I didn’t see you here the first year. I thought you chose a different one.”
“You know me, I don’t break promises.”
He looks back at you again, it takes everything in him not to walk to you and kiss you. It takes everything in you to not do the same.
“Listen, I have an interview today, but can we have dinner? I still have a lot of things to say, a lot of things to ask, and it’s been so long.” you blur out. 
“Sure, I have a shift at the coffee shop, so I’ll see you at seven?”
“Yeah, that’s okay, Where do you work?” you ask, suddenly shivering. It’s really him, this isn’t a dream.
“In a coffee shop that’s on Main,” he replies, “I know you never go there, I would’ve seen you.”
“I’ve been busy.”
Right. Diana mentioned a boyfriend. His heart suddenly stops, fearing that he is seeing you again just to lose you again.
“I know,” he says, resting his hands on his hips, looking around the room to avoid your eyes again. “Good luck on your interview.”
“Thank you, good luck on your shift." You can feel the awkwardness coming back, the uncomfortable silence threatening to come back. “I’ll see you at seven!”
“I’ll pick you up here,” he says, You can only nod before he turns his back on you. 
"Stevie,” you say. He is about to open his front door when he hears your voice again.
“Yes?” he says, turning his head slightly to see you. He missed that nickname, you are the only one who calls him like that. 
You want to keep talking and confessing your true feelings right now, but you have things to do. He is more important than everything else, you got him back, you don’t want to waste time. 
“Say hi to Robin for me.” 
He nods, then walks into his apartment. You close the door of yours once again.
Fear and excitement occupy most of your brain right now. You are praying for him to still want you, to love you back as much as you've loved him this whole time. Being his best friend would be a great start, but being back to be his love sounds even better.
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IV. You are the best thing that's ever been mine.
Steve paces around his apartment, Robin and Chrissy are back, and they watch him mumble something under his breath. 
“Everything will be fine, you will talk to her and get back together,” Robin says.
“What if she has a boyfriend? What if she is in love with someone else?” 
“You can always steal her away, Robin did that to me." Chrissy joins the conversation. 
They have been talking about you for hours. Steve decided to exchange his shift and stay home while Robin was taking her day off. He was too distracted to go to work today. 
“Dingus. Stop it! You are making me dizzy." Robin gets up, reaching for Steve’s hands and making him look at her. “You’ll see her when she is back, you are going to take her to that restaurant and talk like the adult you are. Okay?”
"Hot,” Chrissy blurs out.
“Thank you, sweetheart." Robin looks at her and winks. 
“Gross, get a room, you two!”  Steve’s disgusted face makes both girls laugh. 
“You can do it, dingus. You’ll get her back.” 
“I’m not sure if she feels the same or if I feel the same.”
“Didn’t you say she hugged you so tight you almost ran out of breath? That’s a good sign.” Robin’s hands travel to Steve’s shoulders, shaking him up and trying to wake him up from whatever nightmare he is making up in his head. 
“And don’t start. You’ve been rejecting girls, having failed dates, and looking like a lost puppy whenever you see a girl that looks slightly like her. You two are still in love, from what you tell me and from what I feel.”
“You are right, I'm still in love with her. But it’s been a long time. I changed, she changed too.”
“Changes are good, I know it because it was hard for me to accept the real me, but I took that step because I wanted to be free,” Robin confesses, stopping Steve from giving up. “Talk. Try. You met again for a reason, don’t let that go to waste.” 
Steve nods. “What would I do without you?” He hugs Robin for a minute before hearing some voices in the hallway. He hears the front door open and close, which means you and Diana made it home. 
“You’ll be lost without me! Good luck, dingus.”
“Go get your girl, Steve!” 
Steve walks to your door and knocks, to his surprise, Diana opens the door. 
"Hi,” he says nervously. “Is she here?” 
“Yeah, she will be ready in five.”
"Alright,” Steve says, his hands clammy again, and he finds himself shaking. 
“So, you are the guy she has been talking about nonstop.” 
“I guess yes,” he replies, feeling his heart racing again. You’ve talked about him. 
“Good for you,” Diana says, before you step in. 
"Hi,” you say, looking at Steve again. You find this odd, but you are thanking whatever it was that brought him to you again. 
"Hi,” he replies, his gaze heavy on you as he takes everything in. Your soft voice, the sweet smell of your perfume. 
“Home by ten!” Diana jokes, making you laugh and shake off the anxiety that took over your body. 
You walk away from the apartments, with Steve by your side. He glances at him from time to time, and you do the same. 
“How was your shift?” you ask him, trying to get rid of the awkward feeling that washes over you again.
“I didn’t go. Too distracted for it,” he says, looking over at you as you walk to the parking lot. “How was your interview?”
"Good,” you sigh, not wanting to ramble about it at this moment. “I hope I get the job.”
“You will, you can do anything,” he says when you reach his car, noticing it looks the same way as before. 
Nothing has changed, just time. Everything feels the same, like it froze, letting time pass over it without a single consequence. 
Steve looks at you, his brows knit in a frown, and he is almost chewing his lip.
“If you want to ask something, just do it,” you say, making him shiver. “I know you, maybe not so well anymore, but I do.”
“What if your boyfriend sees us?” he asks.
A chuckle falls from your lips, shaking your head and pushing the hair out of your face.
“I don’t have a boyfriend,  he broke up with me yesterday, and I saw it coming. I’m over it.”
“Oh, do you want to talk about it? We can stay at home, i can leave you alone, and we can reschedule our dinner because i don’t want you to feel like you.”
“I’m still in love with you,” you interrupt, confessing. With a soft look in your eyes, Steve gets lost in them. “I’m sorry, I can't waste any more time. I need to get this out of me. I’ve been looking for you in everyone, everywhere. You are here, and you look the same, I know time has passed, but I believe my love for you has kept you exactly as I remember you.”
Steve doesn’t know what to do, the truth is, he has been waiting to hear those words for a long time. He has been waiting to see you, to hug you, and to kiss you.
“I’m still in love with you too,” he says, running his fingers through his hair, pushing his golden locks back. The sun is setting completely, and you can still see how it shines. “I never got over you, I was forced to move on because i felt like I didn’t deserve you. And I never wanted us to fall apart, I needed you all this time.”
He gets closer to you, his chest almost bumping into yours. He hesitates to kiss you in the moment, even to touch your hand. The setting reminds him of the last time he saw you, your last night at Hawkins.
“If you want, we can try to make up for the lost time and give it another try.”
“I’d love that.”
He gets closer now, with your confession turning into an invitation. Steve places both of his hands on your cheeks, rubbing the soft skin with his thumbs. It takes you back to that night, it feels like you are relieving that moment just to make it right this time.
“Baby-” he is so close to your lips, his words tingle your lips, and you never stop looking into his eyes. Those sweet brown eyes you missed so much.
“I’ve missed that, honey." He laughs at the nickname, but it still makes him shiver and smile like a little kid.
“And I’ve missed you, kiss, please?”
Steve nods, pressing his lips against yours. It’s a soft, slow kiss. You can feel the breeze of the cold night on your face as you flush when Steve leans his head to the side to trap your bottom lip between his lips to taste you. You close your eyes, savoring the moment. One thing you forgot and cried for every night was this.
His warm lips against yours, his taste. His hands squeeze your cheeks as you press your body against his.
It’s the first kiss since that night, two years have passed, and this still feels so familiar. So safe. The kiss is even sweeter thinking of all the time you’ve dreamed about this, of all the unspoken feelings you communicate to each other with everything your lips brush.
When air is needed, you lean your head back a bit. You giggle at the same time, and he places a kiss on your forehead. Happiness takes over you, it feels like floating.
“I still have that beanie baby, you know?”
“I do, Teddy.”
“Don’t call me that!” You hit his arm slightly, and he chuckles while rubbing his arm dramatically.
“It’s cute, it suits you,” he says, leaving a peck on your lips, resting his hands on your hips this time.
“It’s ridiculous!” You scrunch up your nose, and he leans in to smooth it off with a kiss. “Let’s go eat, I’m starving.”
“Only if my dessert is going to be this sweet girl, the universe got back to me,” he says, picking you up, his arms hugging your waist. You can feel your feet dangling in the air. You tangle your arms around his neck so you don’t fall when he spins you around.
“Yes, yes, I'll be your dessert!” You giggle as you feel his lips on your cheeks, and when he stops, you peck his soft cheeks back. “In which house?”
“Oh, I don’t know, it depends on how loud you are.”
“Stevie!” Your cheeks glow red, and he laughs at your sudden flushed face.
“I’m joking! we‘ll figure it out later." He doesn't stop hugging you, even when he puts you down, your feet are now touching the concrete of the parking lot.
“Which one?” you ask, teasingly. Trying to hold back the giggle that is about to escape your lips.
“Both!” Steve says.
You get back in his car, and he proposes the idea of repeating everything you did that last night but with a different ending. You find a nice diner, not as nice as the one outside Hawkins,but it does the job. The old jukebox is there to dance after you eat burgers and fries and you end up stealing his cherry again.
When he picks up the sun, you get up from the booth where you are sitting and run up to him. One of your arms rests around his neck, and the other hand is holding your hand. He interlocks his fingers with yours while his free hand sits on your waist. He pushes you to his chest, the closest he can get you to him, and you start to sway around the checkered floor of the diner. Dancing like nobody's watching, again.
“You are the best thing that’s ever been mine, baby." He sings along with the song before kissing you again.
“I’ve always been yours, honey”
This night is even more magical than the last one, and you’ll have tons of them.
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tags: all @munsonology @emistrash @livsters @paybacksawitch @ali-r3n @keeksandgigz @babybatlover @fanfictionlover277353 / steve @stveharringtn @double-vision-in-a-rose-blush
please please reblog to support your creators! comments are appreciated !! my ask is always open if you have any feedback. thank you so much for reading ♡
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m-ayo-o · 5 months
Text
18+ SMUT NSFW / 21+ megumi - sex after separation: limited prep, pulling out. (reupload ~ got comm guidelines on this of all the things i've put here lol)
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He's been away on the longest mission. You curse his blindfolded senior for taking your man away from you.
But now he's home, you couldn't be more glad to get in the shower with him, cook a wholesome meal and tend to his minor injuries. You stay awake a little too late, just mesmerised by him finally lying next to you again. He's too exhausted to tell you to stop staring, so he just closes his pretty eyes and has the longest, most rejuvenating sleep he's had in weeks.
And after he stirs awake before you, stepping to and from the bathroom, your eyes peek open just in time to see him trudge back to bed.
And you stare, watching him re-enter the room with the most astounding morning wood (which bounces when he walks- he sleeps naked).
You open and close your mouth as you struggle for words. Your first thought was to tease him, but you can't. It's been so long for you as well - you know how it feels. Kind of.
It's not as if you haven't been... pleasuring yourself, but for him, he's gone weeks without so much as a gentle touch on his body.
He's been thinking of you though, all that time, when he was lying next to his fellow sorcerers, unable to quench the need in his guts to tug himself off to your image. He has committed every beautiful feature of your body to his memory; every freckle, every curve and dip, every scar. And you're always on his mind, whether he's awake or sleeping, which slowly builds his frustrations as the days go by.
You know he must've really struggled this time.
"Megumi-" you prop yourself up in bed as he sits down, getting under the covers with you again.
He gives you a look. Kind of sad. Kind of needy.
And he just gets on his side, drags you back under the duvet and wraps his arms around your middle in the tightest cuddle. He presses his lips over your nape, down your shoulders, over your strappy pyjamas and just holds you.
After some time, his hands start to wander and he squeezes you- your waist, your ass, then he settles on your chest, kneading your boobs gently.
"I missed you"
He finally whispers against your neck.
"Feeling so... pent up."
He admits with a groan, as he starts grinding his erection over your plush ass and up your back.
"Use me, then"
"Oh, princess, no you can't say stuff like that-" his face scrunches into a little grimace, feeling the ache of his cock. He swears his balls are gonna go completely blue.
"'m not gonna last long- I, I-"
"Please, do it quick, I need you-"
You grind against him now, rubbing his shaft up and down, feeling him getting hotter.
He tugs your skimpy pyjamas away and pushes you open from behind, lifting your leg to slip his cock in between your squishy thighs.
He guides himself to your warm, soft pussy and edges in. And, with the baseline level of moisture in there, he can just about get inside. It's tight, with a little sting, but you honestly don't care. You push back on him and he grunts and growls until he's buried in you.
He fucks you like an animal in heat, with your leg in a vice like grip, his hips hammering into you. With a swift motion he pushes you onto your front, without his cock slipping out, then moves to straddle your thighs. He gets on top of you and just loses it.
"Not gonna- last-"
He presses your ass open and squeezes your cheeks, pounding into you. You grab at the sheets, trying to angle yourself to allow him to get as deep as possible.
"Yeah, do that- fuck, push that ass out for me, uh huh l-ike that-"
He presses you into the bed and gives you the most intense backshots, your pussy just throbbing with the full, fat length of him. You swear, after this break- of not being filled for weeks, and with his lack of contact- it's the biggest he's ever felt. He's so swollen and hard, his balls so heavy with every slap against your skin. And it's making you crazy.
"Love it when you fuck me like this-" you whimper into the pillow, "feels like you need me so bad-"
"I do, fuck, I do need you-"
He grabs at your hair now, one hand still resting firm on your ass.
"Need you, I love you so fucking much- waiting for me and, ahh-and letting me use this sweet pussy-"
"Love y-you Megumi~" your toes curl with the most intense orgasm, your gripping and clenching just urging him to cum.
"Fuck- c-lose, I'm close-"
And without any more warning he pulls out, leaving you feeling shocked and empty, and sprays his load up your back and over your ass.
"Fuck, fuck-- ugghh!!"
He wipes his tip over your cheeks and squeezes the last drops of cum out, panting hard.
"Again?" He breathes heavy and pushes his hair out of his face.
"Need to show you- how much I missed you."
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megumi
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russos-ventitre · 7 months
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alessia russo x reader | 23 weeks 🧸
✘ summary: alessia has become very protective of you ever since you got pregnant
✘ warnings/tags: fluff, pregnant!reader, wag!reader, caretaker!alessia, protective!alessia, future milfs
✘ words: 2917
a/n: inspired by ohgrays post
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It was a cozy morning, well for one of you, it was, yourself on the other hand were feeling like utter shit. Tossing and turning throughout the night, unable to get comfortable, and constantly feeling sick. Soft arms trying their best to comfort you as you managed maybe 30 minutes of sleep.
"Baby..?" The blonde called out, fingers tracing your slightly protruding stomach. "..do you want me to call Jonas and tell him I can't make it today..?" She offered, knowing full well you were exhausted and wanting to take care of you.
"It's fine Less.." You waved her off, feeling her hands gently pulling your body into her front. "..I don't wanna be a burden." You sighed, not sure how much longer you'll be able to hold this conversation for since the exhaustion was hitting you particularly hard, making your eyelids extremely heavy.
"Nonsense baby.." She hushed, pulling you closer, pressing a kiss to the nape of your neck.
"Less I don't want you missing training because I barely got any sleep last night."
"But you're tired and need to be taken care of, plus I'm gonna end up missing training at some point." She protested.
"Yeah, but that's like when I'm heavily pregnant babe, not days where I'm mildly exhausted." You quipped, hearing her groan in response.
"Fine. But I'm making you coffee and breakfast and I'm having my mum check on you today at least twice."
"Alessia!" You grumbled.
"Hey! Don't Alessia, me, young lady. I'm trying to take care of you!" She grumbled back.
"Oi! You're only 7 days older than me.. don't soak it up too much grandma." Your comment earned you a light slap to your arm, which was then followed by an apologetic kiss to the area affected.
"Sorry.."
"The baby's fine, Less.. I assure you that your daughter wasn't harmed by the light tap you just- oh.." You paused in your tracks, feeling faint movements from within your stomach, your eyes going wide.
"I-I think she just kicked.."
"What?!" Alessia shot up from her position, leaning over your body to watch your stomach, a hand coming to delicately hold it. She waited, seconds, minutes, silence. After what felt like the longest few minutes of her life the baby finally responded, kicking lightly at your stomach as the striker held both your hands there. Her eyes welling up slightly at the feeling, looking down at you as her heart melted.
"I can't wait to meet our little girl.." She sighed happily, pressing a soft kiss to your lips.
"Me too Less.."
The older girl carefully slid out of bed, extending her arms out to help you get up. You shaking your head but grabbing her hands nonetheless. "Baby I'm 23 weeks pregnant, I can still mostly function as usual."
"I know but I still want to take care of you." She pouted, placing a hand on the small of your back as she guided you to the bathroom.
The blonde was quick to brush her teeth, doing so as you used the toilet just mere inches next to her, the taller girl insistent that you hold her hand as you did so, only letting go to wipe. She took her caretaker duties very seriously ever since the news broke that you were pregnant, never letting you out of her sight unless completely necessary and never too far away so that she could hold you tenderly.
Once you finished it was your turn to brush your teeth, your wife standing behind you and holding up your stomach as you did so, hoping that it would bring you some sort of relief as you continued your task.
"You're cute." You pressed a kiss to her cheek, feeling her continue to hold your stomach up as you washed your face.
"Non farmi arrossire." [Don't make me blush.] She mumbled pressing soft kisses to your back and shoulders.
"I'm gonna put her down now, okay baby?" The blonde stated, placing a final kiss to your shoulder, looking at you in the mirror
You nodded, blush taking over your entire face as she carefully released your bump from her grip.
Alessia guided you to the kitchen, helping you get comfortable in your seat as she made you coffee, followed by breakfast, pretty much being a pro at being able to guess your weird food cravings by now.
"Thank you, my love." You hummed, happily eating your meal as she pressed a kiss to your temple, settling herself down next to you, and pulling your chair so it was situated between her legs so she could stroke your back.
"Anything for you." She hummed back, her manicured nails tracing down your back, hitting all the right spots that would make you melt for a few short minutes.
"Right. You stay here.." The blonde pressed a kiss to your cheek, standing up. "..while I pop upstairs and get ready for training."
She sprinted upstairs, quickly doing her hair and makeup for the day, slipping on her training kit, which always did things to you, especially the vest top, and ran back downstairs. Your eyes went wide and your jaw damn near dropped as she entered the room again, your eyes tracing the curves of her biceps as she smiled at you.
"Everything okay?" Alessia asked innocently, mostly curious if she missed anything happen whilst she was upstairs.
You could've said 'yes', very easily but that was so far from the truth. The thing is, being pregnant meant a lot of things, a lot of things you expected and a lot that you didn't. You knew about the hormonal changes you were going to face but nothing could quite prepare you for the hot and bothered part of those hormonal changes that you had been recently facing. You licked your lips hungrily, eyes flicking between her arms, then to her toned thighs, then back to her beautiful eyes.
"-baby?"
"Hmm?" You shook your head, snapping yourself out of your trance of thoughts that you really shouldn't be having in your second trimester.
"You okay? You appear to be burning up." Her strong hand came to feel your forehead, checking if everything was alright.
"Y-Yeah.. just hot flashes s'all." You answered quickly, hoping that she would stop noticing your very obviously flustered self.
Alessia grabbed her packed breakfast that she had made herself, alongside her to-go coffee. She slipped on her trainers, slung her kitbag over her shoulder and grabbed her keys.
"You sure you'll be okay today?" She asked a final time.
"I'll be fine babe, promise." You reassured, pulling her into a hug, feeling her chin rest on your head. She pressed a delicate kiss to your forehead before pulling away.
"I love you." She smiled, giving you a light wave with only three of her available fingers.
"I love you more, Less." You blushed, watching as she climbed into her Mercedes and drove off.
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less 🤍✨ [8:38]: how are things amore? x
less 🤍✨ [8:38]: hows baby? xx
[y/n] 💕🌸 [8:39]: less youve only just left
less 🤍✨ [8:39]: so?
less 🤍✨ [8:39]: that didnt answer my question
[y/n] 💕🌸 [8:39]: babys fine i promise xx
less 🤍✨ [8:39]: good xx
less 🤍✨ [8:42]: oh i forgot
less 🤍✨ [8:42]: mum'll be there around 10:30 xx
[y/n] 💕🌸 [8:42]: alright x
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You were standing in the kitchen when you heard a knock on your door.
Carol.
You padded your way to the front door, unlocking it to be greeted by Alessia's mother.
"[y/n] sweetheart! How have you been? How's the little one?" The older woman asked as she pulled you into a hug.
"Hi Carol." You hummed, happily accepting her soft hug. "I've been good, not much sleep but otherwise I've been fine."
"That's good, sweetheart."
The two of you continued your conversation into the kitchen, Carol immediately taking over and preparing tea in the kitchen.
"Oh. You don't have to do that Carol." You tried waving her off as you leaned your aching body over the kitchen island.
"Please, I insist." She smiled, making a cup for each of you.
"So.." She started, handing you your cup. "..whens the due date?" The blonde took a sip, awaiting your answer.
"Oh umm.." You paused, looking down at your bump with a smile, wagering a guess.
"..I think we were told end of January, beginning of February?"
"She might share a birthday month or day with you and Less then." She smiled, sipping more of her drink.
"Yeah." You blushed. "Probably one of the best birthday gifts you can get, huh?"
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less 🤍✨ [11:08]: hi my baby xx
less 🤍✨ [11:08]: how are things? xx
[y/n] 💕🌸 [11:08]: everythings been great less xx
[y/n] 💕🌸 [11:08]: your mum has been taking care of me dont worry love xx
less 🤍✨ [11:09]: i miss you [y/n/n] 
[y/n] 💕🌸 [11:09]: i miss you more baby
[y/n] 💕🌸 [11:09]: home soon? x
less 🤍✨ [11:09]: yea not much longer now xx
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Carol continued to keep you company up until tea time, both of you losing track of time as she conversed with you and helped you with some work around the house. It was nice to have the company and it was even nicer bonding with her mother. Seeing where the blonde got all her charm from and her sweetness really made your heart melt.
A little after 12, the both of you were pulled out of your little bubble, heads turning in the direction of rattling keys outside your front door.
"Baby! I'm home!" Your wife shouted, you turning your head in her direction as you walked towards the front door.
"You're home early." You sighed, not at all complaining as you melted into her arms.
"Yeah well.. perks of having a pregnant wife I guess." She teased, pressing a kiss to your head.
"What? You told Jonas?"
"Kidding. Jonas wanted us all to rest before our game tomorrow, he dismissed us early. Although for future reference I might use that.." The blonde smirked, watching as you blushed below her, noting how you'd definitely take her up on that deal.
"Hi, mum!" She called out, waving to the woman behind you.
"Took care of my girls I see?"
You nodded against her chest, feeling her arm rest on your shoulders pulling you in closer.
"Yeah. It was a lovely day actually." Her mother replied with a smile.
"Good." The striker hummed.
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The Following Day...
Alessia drove the two of you to the stadium, it being close by since it was a home game at the Emirates. Her hand firmly resting on your thigh, tracing light shapes into the material of your trousers. Sometimes it occasionally trailed its way up your bump, lightly caressing it, your hand coming to rest on top of hers, blushing at the soft gesture.
“Gonna score for my girls today.” The blonde hummed, leaning over to press a kiss to your bump whilst she was stopped at the red light. 
You giggled softly, pulling her hand up to kiss it. “We’ll be cheering you on, Less.” 
“Tesori miei.” [My loves.] She sighed, her hand resuming its original position on your thigh. 
The striker helped you out of the car, escorting you through the crowds to you seat, not all taking note of the fans that were surprised by her appearance in the stands, normally not one to ignore them but you were pregnant and thats all she was focused on. Only looking at you, taking your hand in her own, cupping your back, and holding you close as she helped you get seated. You were her priority, nothing else mattered at the moment.
“Honey, I’m okay, honestly.” You shushed her, the blonde not ready to let go of your hands yet.
“Go.. you need to be with your team.” Trying to push her in the direction of the locker room. 
Alessia pouted, giving you a squeeze to your hands, leaning in slowly to press a kiss to your cheek then to your lips, witnessing your cheeks blush when she pulled away.
“I love you."
"I love you, my star girl." You lightly brushed your thumb over her cheek, seeing her blush the same way that you'd been, a soft smile tugging at her lips.
The match against Aston Villa had finally ended after 94 minutes, seeing your wife wave to the fans in gratitude after the game ended. The well-known blonde striker immediately making a beeline for you, jumping over the barrier, she was instantly by your side.
"Hi, my love." She beamed, absolutely ecstatic to see you after a difficult game.
"Hi, Lessibear." You smiled back, knowing that pet name made her weak in the knees.
Her hand came to gently hold your stomach, the other resting on your shoulder as she leaned in for a kiss, fingers lightly massaging your bump.
"How have my girls been?" The blonde asked shyly, her hand still protectively stroking your bump.
"Good, yeah. Better now that you're here." You sighed, melting into the older girl's touch. The blonde slowly kneeled down in front of you, pressing a soft kiss to your bump, nuzzling her nose up against it. Your heart swooning at the adorable gesture from your wife.
Alessia stood back up, wrapping an arm protectively around your body. "Home?"
You nodded, feeling her press a kiss to your temple, guiding you carefully through the crowd of people. The blonde kept her arm tightly wrapped around you, helping you walk, even though you were perfectly capable in doing so, making your way to the locker room where the rest of the girls were.
She helped you down on the padded bench that was in front of her cubby, having you relax as she packed her things away. A few of her teammates giving you small waves as you waited for Alessia to gather her things.
"Russo! You didn't mention your bird was here!" A thick Irish accent echoed in the locker room, walking towards you both and taking a seat right next to you. "How are ya darlin'?" She asked with a cheesy grin, hand coming to lightly pat your back.
"Easy McCabe.." The blonde warned, a hand reaching out protectively in your direction, her face cringing as the brunette's hand lightly hit your back
"Honey, it's fine." You muttered, giving her a soft smile, your hand reaching for hers, fidgeting with her fingers.
"What? I'm just greeting your girl." The brunette smiled innocently.
"Sorry.. she's just really protective, especially since we found out I was pregnant." You sighed, revealing your bump from behind your coat.
"Oh shit! You've got a wee 'un in there!" She pointed towards your bump, Alessia's head immediately turning her direction again, eyes narrowing.
"How far? Wait- sorry.. is that rude?" The older woman questioned, not really sure how any of this works.
You shook your head in amusement. "No, it's fine. I'm about 23 weeks now, I'll be in my third trimester at the beginning of November." You smiled, seeing your lover relax her shoulders in your peripherals.
"Wow. Can I?" Katie asked, a lot less hyper than she was before, a hand reaching out hesitantly.
You turned to look up at Alessia who smiled and nodded, turning back to the brunette and giving her the 'okay'. Even though it was your bump and your body, Alessia was very protective over it. Having people ask both of your permissions before being allowed to feel your bump. The baby may not have been born yet but your wife certainly acted like she was and it made you hopeful for the future when your daughter finally comes into this world.
"Woah." She sighed, her hand delicately touching your bump, your hand on top of hers.
"Can I be an aunty?" The defender asked excitedly.
"Maybe-"
"We'll think about it." Alessia cut you off, her protective front still very much present as her hand reached for yours, carefully pulling you up to your feet. Your body lightly crashing into her side as her arm wrapped around your figure again, your right hand finding purchase on her chest.
"See you next week McCabe." The striker faintly smiled.
"Bye Katie." You lightly waved, letting the older girl guide you out of the building.
The blonde helped you into her car, pressing a kiss to your forehead before closing the door and entering the driver's side. "Less.." You started, lacing your fingers with hers over the console, her fingers lightly fidgeting with the rings on your fingers.
"Hmm?" She responded, not looking in your direction as she pulled out of the parking lot.
"..I'm okay, you know. The baby's not gonna get hurt just from a few harmless pats. I get you're protective and all and it's really sweet, but you don't need to scare people off."
Alessia gave your hand a squeeze in response, letting out a deep breath before speaking.
"Baby.. I'm just worried about our little girl.." She huffed.
"I think you worry more than me sometimes, Less." You laughed, seeing her face become flush.
"Maybe.." The blonde hummed, the blush now settling into her cheeks. She lifted your interlocked hands to her lips and pressed a soft kiss to the back of your hand, continuing her journey back to your shared home.
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a/n: part two? 👀
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866 notes · View notes
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My Sweet Girl (Matthew Tkachuk Imagine)
This is by far-- I repeat, by far-- the longest reader insert I've ever written. It's my submission for @wyattjohnston 's Winter Fic Exchange, a gift for @matthewtkachuk ! Excellent URL, by the way.
The creative process here went as follows: Shelbs shows me her On Repeat Spotify playlist -> I see The Band Camino on it and remember that I love that band -> I listen to nothing but them for two weeks -> I hear the song Know It All and am struck with inspiration -> I write this and inflict it on everyone else.
I jumped around a bit while writing, so please let me know if there's anything I screwed up! This is also the type of fic that has had 20+ tabs of Wikipedia pages, ESPN articles, and stats pages open on my computer for two months, but there was still information I couldn't find, so please be gentle with any inconsistencies.
Anyway, I truly hope that you enjoy this one! I apologize for being a day late posting, my job sucks.
Rating: M
Pairing: Matthew Tkachuk/fem!Reader
Words: 26, 028
Warnings: a lot of angst
Contains: best friend's brother, friends to ??? to strangers to lovers, situationship, idiots in love, everyone knows but them, Matthew being kind of a dick, guest appearances by the Weinberg-Hughes family and Jane Gaudreau
Summary: As Brady's best friend, it was your duty to love and support him. You're pretty sure falling in love with his brother does not count as "support", but here you are.
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You weren’t expecting this to be as hard as it is.
Luckily, you’d been given a little warning beforehand, but apparently a week wasn’t enough to prepare yourself. Was it kind of fucked up that the news had to come from Brady, because Matthew hadn’t bothered to tell you himself? Yeah, kind of. Sure, Brady and you have been best friends for years, but it’s not like you’re not close with Matthew, too.
You hadn’t realized what was going on at first, convincing yourself not to be upset when Matthew’s texts slowed and his calls stopped outright. It had been the beginning of the playoffs, you reasoned, of course he was going to be too busy to talk to you as much. Despite the fact that communication between the two of you had never waned because of the season before. It was his first year on a new team, you’d told yourself, a team with a great shot at the Cup, at that. You could deal with missing him a little more than usual if that’s what he needed.
When you’d called him to congratulate him on passing the first round, he’d thanked you and wrapped the call up as quickly as he could. Seeing the 3:24:41 call duration on your phone afterward had felt wrong. It was one of the shortest calls the two of you had ever had.
You’d brushed it off, chalked it up to him being tired or busy. Then they’d won the second round, and the process repeated itself. A quick phone call, a few scant minutes. It had sounded like other people were there that time, so you’d convinced yourself that he would call you back when he was alone. He never did.
You got to watch Game 4 of the third series, got to watch them sweep Carolina to win the Eastern Conference. Your friend Terri had laughed and clapped as you cheered, jumping up and down like a child. She was a Carolina fan herself, but was good enough of a loser to hug and congratulate you despite it. She’d offered to leave so that you could talk to Matthew, but you’d waved it off. You knew he’d be celebrating with the boys that night, so there was no real reason to try calling. You’d shot him a congratulations text and spent the night smiling so much your cheeks hurt.
When you’d tried to call Matthew the next day, his voice had been hushed when he answered. You’d given him your congratulations, bubbling over about how well they’d played. It’s not the first time you’d had a phone call exactly like that, him letting you gush about his team’s play and basking in the attention. This time, he interrupted you before you even got a chance to really get going. His voice was still quiet, almost a whisper as he said he had to go. The wind was immediately taken out of your sails and you’d barely had time to say goodbye before he hung up.
At that point, you’d given up convincing yourself that everything was okay. Something was very clearly wrong, and you’d spent the next nine days trying to figure out what it was. You’d reached out to Brady, and he’d told you that he hadn’t noticed anything weird from Matthew at all. Knowing that, you’d tried to downplay what was going on between the two of you, lest Brady go bother Matthew about it. You don’t do well with embarrassment, so you’d preferred that whatever was going on stayed away from any third parties.
The finals started, ending rather anticlimactically ten days later in a 4-1 loss for the Panthers. Knowing Matthew, he was going to go straight back to his hotel room and beat himself up. For the last three, almost four, years, you’d called Matthew after every big win or loss, and this was his biggest loss to date. Yet your finger hesitated at his contact name, hovered over the picture of him with bedhead and a lazy smile. With how things had been going, you knew he probably wouldn’t want to talk to you, even if you hadn’t figured out why yet. But part of you hoped that he would, that everything to that point had been stress, and there, at his lowest, he would talk to you again, and everything would go back to normal.
That, of course, is not what happened.
He hadn’t answered at all. And when you’d tried a second time an hour later, it rang once before going to voicemail. That meant that he’d declined your call, but you didn’t know what that meant.
Two more days passed without you hearing anything from him, so you’d called Brady. All of this had been concerning, but that had been too much. Miraculously, you’d managed to stay calm when you spoke with Brady, sounding impressively level-headed when you relayed what happened and asked him if he’d heard from Matthew. Brady had seemed shocked at the situation, immediately calling Matthew after he’d hung up with you.
Thirty minutes later, when you’d received a text from Brady, your heart had sunk to the pit of your stomach, and it’s stayed there ever since.
Because what the text had informed you of is that Matthew hadn’t lost or broken his phone, hadn’t been sick or depressed or, god, lost in the fucking desert or some shit. It told you that he’d been with his girlfriend, and hadn’t wanted her to see him call or text another girl. Because, apparently, Matthew has a girlfriend now. And just hadn’t deigned to tell you.
When Brady had told you that she would be spending the offseason in St. Louis with Matthew, you’d tried to hide your shock. You’d cleared your throat and told Brady how great that was, even as you wanted to throw up. They’d gotten into town a few days ago, and you’d done your best to keep your distance. But Brady asked you to come to dinner at his parents’ house tonight, citing the limited time you have to see him before he goes back to Ottawa, and you couldn’t refuse.
So now here you are, curled up in a chair in the Tkachuks’ den, across from said girlfriend. Her name is Tessa, she’s 26, and she does remote work for a marketing firm. That explains how she’s able to pick up and go to St. Louis for three months, at least. She’s already recounted the story of how they’d met, a romcom story of spilling his drink on her dress at a party and getting to know each other from there. She talks about the instant connection, the way they clicked so quickly that she knew they were meant for each other. That part of the story was when you’d excused yourself to get a glass of water, just so you could stick your head in the fridge and take a few deep breaths.
Matthew and Tessa are on one of the couches, the older, comfier one. Matthew is propped up against one of the armrests, Tessa curled into his side, his arm around her shoulders. You’ve spent the night pretending not to notice the way Matthew keeps glancing at you.
Brady and Emma are posted up on the other couch, one on either side, Emma’s feet in Brady’s lap as she lounges. Emma is great, and does a great job at keeping the conversation going, despite how little you and the boys are participating. Tessa either doesn’t notice your silence or doesn’t mind, chatting happily about some film she and Emma have both recently seen. You’re pretending not to notice the looks Brady’s giving you, either.
You should really be trying harder. You know Brady wasn’t expecting you to curl up under a blanket and mope when he invited you, and he really is right about time being limited. You should be engaging, enjoying the time you get with the boys while you have it. You would, if you could open your mouth without feeling like you’re going to scream.
Eventually, Chantal calls you all to dinner. It’s easier once you’re all gathered around the table, somehow, and you’re able to talk a little. Chantal has always put you at ease, has always made you feel like just another of her children. If you had it your way, Taryn would be here too. She has a way of lovingly bullying you that always makes you feel better. Unfortunately, she’s visiting some college friends out of state. But you’re doing okay, you think, at acting normal.
Then you lock eyes with Keith, and any sense of ease you’ve gained flies out the window. You wouldn’t be inclined to say that Keith is the most observant person in the world, so the way he’s looking at you– like he knows something is very, very wrong– makes it clear that you’re doing an absolutely dogshit job at hiding your feelings. You look away from him quickly, swallowing hard and forcing yourself to talk even more. 
Maybe if you can just act normal, if you can push down the emotions and act like everything is okay, it will be. There’s nothing else you can really do about the situation anyway. Matthew has made it clear that he’s not interested in talking about it, so you’ll have to suck it up and deal with it on your own.
Dinner goes by a little quicker once you’re actually actively involved in the conversation. Typically, you help Chantal with the dishes after meals, but when you reach for the sponge at the sink, she shoos you away. She sends the girls back to the den, insisting that it’s the boys’ turn to help.
You curl back up in your chair, mind wandering as you operate on autopilot. You’re saying things, contributing to the conversation with Emma and Tessa, but you have no idea what you’re actually saying. Mercifully, they either don’t notice or don’t care.
This entire situation is fucked. What’s really getting to you, though, is how you’d been introduced. You’d walked in, giving out hugs to everyone except Matthew and Tessa. She’d approached you, shaking your hand enthusiastically.
“Matthew said you’re Brady’s best friend, right?” she’d asked. It was simple, innocuous, and true. Brady and you have been best friends for years, and that would be an adequate title in any other scenario. But it felt like a punch to the gut, knowing that after everything, Matthew had told her that you were just his little brother’s best friend. You’d glanced at him as she said it, and the intentionally cool, unaffected expression Matthew had in place still couldn’t hide the guilt in his eyes.
In that moment, you knew that he hadn’t told her anything about you, about whatever the two of you have been to each other for the past few years, and that he never intends to. There was a second where he’d made a decision, a second that you weren’t present for, that had cut off everything you’ve been to him and relegated you back to Brady’s Best Friend.
You want to pull Tessa aside, spill out everything. You want her to know that you’re Matthew’s friend too, that you’ve been more than that. More than that, you want Matthew to do it. You want him to tell her, to acknowledge whatever the hell you’ve been doing for all this time. You want him to admit that you’re something, anything to him.
Instead, you keep it all to yourself. The knowledge of everything between you and Matthew will live and die where it is now, in the minds of the two of you, and nowhere else.
June, 2018
You’re wiping down the counters when the man enters. You force a bright smile at him, still annoyed from the previous customer but doing your best not to show it. He returns the smile, approaching the register. You move to settle across from him, greeting him politely. The shop has a lot of regulars, but you don’t recognize this guy.
“I’ll be honest,” he says, giving a single nervous laugh, “I’m not really a coffee guy. Do you have any recommendations?” It’s not an uncommon question, and there aren’t any other customers right now, so you don’t mind.
“Do you like the taste of coffee?” you ask. He shakes his head. That eliminates about half of the menu, so it’s progress.
“How much caffeine are you going for?” you ask next.
“As much as possible,” he replies. The dark circles under his eyes could have hinted you to that conclusion. He has a laptop and notebook in one hand, down by his side. It’s normal for people to bring work along with them, and he’s definitely young, so you guess it’s probably school work.
“You could always do a triple shot latte with a flavor,” you suggest, your own go-to drink, “The caramel is the strongest. I can put in an extra pump if you want.” Technically, you should charge extra for that, but the kid looks kind of pathetic, and you feel bad. He can have a pity pump this once.
“That sounds good,” he agrees. You do the math in your head and punch in the price manually on the vintage register. The whole cafe is supposed to have a vintage vibe, a real hipster magnet. Math was always your weakest subject, but having to calculate totals in your head has made you a lot better with it.
Once he pays on the very not-vintage card reader, you direct him to the far side of the bar. You start on his drink, pulling shots with practiced ease. You’ve been working  here since high school, so you’ve gotten pretty good at making coffee. He doesn’t try to talk to you while you work, which is nice. There’s something oddly calming about his presence, though, and it’s helping your annoyance fade.
You hand off his drink, and he retreats to a booth in the back corner after thanking you. You go back to wiping things down, bobbing your head along with the music playing quietly over the speakers. It’s later in the evening, so you only get a few customers over the next hour. It’s one thing you like about working the night shift. Not many customers, and most of the people getting coffee around this time are tired enough to not give you much trouble, and are usually extremely grateful for the caffeine.
It’s quiet for long enough that you pull your stool up to the counter, pulling your textbook and notes out from under the counter. You start working on the homework for your summer semester, singing quietly to yourself as you read.
“You have a nice voice,” the guy from earlier says, suddenly standing in front of you. You jump, hand flying to your chest as if you’re a damsel in a period piece. You’d forgotten he was here.
“Thank you,” you say, once the surprise fades. You laugh a little, shaking your head. He laughs too, apologizing for startling you.
“Could I have another?” he asks, holding up his now-empty cup.
“Of course,” you reply, “Same cup okay?” You do your best to be environmentally friendly, so you don’t want to use another cup if you don’t have to. He says that’s okay, so you take the cup and start pulling another shot.
“Y/N,” he says absently as he leans on the counter, “That’s a pretty name.” You thank him again, dumping the first shot into the cup. It’s odd, because people are usually flirting when they say something like that, but his tone isn’t suggestive at all.
“What’s your name?” you ask, feeling like you should say something. You start pulling the second shot.
“Brady,” he says, extending a hand toward you. You look between his hand and your own, feeling rude but needing both hands to pull the shot.
“Oh, um,” you stutter, “Sorry, I’m–” He seems to realize what’s going on and retracts his hand, using it to rub at the base of his skull.
“My bad,” he says, shaking his head at himself, “I’m tired, sorry.” You smile at him, much more genuine than the first time.
“What’s got you so tired anyway, Brady?” you ask, dumping the second shot and starting on the third. His face twists at what you’d thought was an innocuous question. He’s clearly debating something in his head, so you stay silent.
“I’ve got something big coming up in a couple weeks,” he explains, tapping his fingers against the counter, “I’m just trying to be prepared.” You nod, not minding how vague he’s being. You don’t actually need to know every detail of a random customer’s life. There’s a moment of quiet as you dump in the third shot and pour some milk into a metal container.
“And I might be a little nervous,” he says, looking at his hands instead of you. You smile again, beginning to steam the milk.
“Just a little,” you repeat, slightly teasing in a way you usually aren’t with customers.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, looking up at you, “Just a little.” You smile at each other for a second, both knowing he’s seriously downplaying his feelings. You wonder what it is that has him so anxious, sure that it must be something serious. He doesn’t seem to be the neurotic type.
“What are you working on?” he asks as you pour the milk, gesturing toward your books spread out next to the register. You shrug.
“Organic chemistry,” you reply, pumping in the flavoring, “The worst class ever.” He cringes at the mention of it, which you feel in your bones.
“I’ve heard it’s awful,” he says.
“It is,” you confirm. You snap the lid back onto the cup, sliding it over the counter to him. He cradles it between his hands, but doesn’t move to leave. He’s looking up at you from where he’s hunched over, and you can’t help but stare back.
“Do you want to come sit with me?” he asks, “We could be miserable together.” The smile that overtakes your face mirrors itself on his own.
August, 2018
When Brady walks in, right at his usual time, you give him a smile and lean over the counter to hug him. You’ve become fast friends, sitting together a few nights a week, probably talking more than studying. His Big Thing is long past, and he still hasn’t told you what it was, but you don’t really mind. You get to know about his family and his girlfriend and his upcoming move to Ottawa, of all places, but you don’t need to know everything if he doesn’t want to share.
You make two of the usual latte, one for each of you. You grab your books from the shelf, meeting him at the corner booth. You get through some small talk as you both set up, going back and forth with an ease that you were surprised to find has been there since the beginning.
“Matthew’s going to come hang out tonight,” he says as he logs into his computer. He’s spoken about his brother before, so you’re somewhat intrigued.
“Any particular reason?” you ask. To your knowledge, Matthew has never been to the shop, so you’re not sure if something special is going on to spur him into coming.
“He thinks it sounds cool,” Brady shrugs, flipping his notebook open. Maybe you’d know what he’s always working on if you could read his tiny chicken scratch. As it is, you don’t mind letting him have his secrets.
You get four pages into your chapter before another customer enters, laying your pen in the divot between the pages while you go make them their drink. Luckily, they don’t stick around. It’s not awful when other people are around, but you always feel like someone is going to complain about you sitting in the dining room and studying while you should be working. But if there’s no work to be done, you don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. Unfortunately, not everyone agrees. So you prefer if it’s just you and Brady.
Another four pages drag by, reading interspersed with breaks to talk. Honestly, the breaks are also a way to keep yourself sane as you read unnecessarily complicated science.
When the next customer enters, you spring up from your chair, shooting them a smile as you make your way behind the counter. You give your standard greeting, asking what you can get them.
“What do you recommend?” the man asks. You were kind of hoping he’d have something in mind so that this interaction could go quickly, because he may be the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen and it’s making you flustered.
“Do you like the taste of coffee?” you ask. He nods, looking you up and down with a critical eye. It feels personal, feels like he’s searching for something, and you’re not sure if you like it.
“How much caffeine are you looking for?” you ask next. You do your best to maintain eye contact, ignoring the way you have to look up to do so.
“How much you got?” he asks in return. The crooked smile he gives you makes your stomach flip. You grasp for a drink to suggest, all knowledge having fled your mind in order to focus on the curl of his hair over his forehead, the glint of his bright eyes.
“A Lazy Eye would probably be the most,” you say, clearing your throat, “But if you don’t want to have a heart attack, you could do a regular Red Eye.” He tilts his head, smile turning smug, as if he’s noticed your distraction. Something about it snaps you out of your daze, slightly indignant. You’ve seen plenty of hot guys in your day, and you’re not about to look like a fool in front of him just because he’s pretty.
“Red Eye, Black Eye, Dripped Eye, Lazy Eye,” you list off with as much confidence as you can muster, “Each with one more shot than the last. Pick your poison.” Your attitude change only makes him smile wider. Your hand is poised over the buttons of the register, ready to ring up whatever he decides.
“Let’s go with a Black Eye,” he says, bearing a surprisingly sharp canine, “I’ve had a few of those in my time.” That doesn’t surprise you, with his smug face and oozing self-confidence. Something about it feels so disingenuous that it makes your teeth itch. It’s clearly an act, but you can’t exactly call him on it.
You give him his total, he pays, you get to work. You empty the last dregs of coffee in the pot into the sink and set the machine to brew a new batch. No matter how annoying a customer seems, you’re not about to serve them shitty coffee.
“Y/N,” he says, leaning on the counter, “That’s a pretty name.” It’s exactly what Brady had said when you’d met him, which makes you eye the man a little suspiciously. Whereas Brady had clearly not been flirting when he’d said it, this man’s tone is ambiguous enough that you’re not entirely sure what his intentions are.
“Thank you,” you say, dumping the first shot of espresso into the cup. Normally, you would ask for his name in return, but you’re not sure if you want to encourage him talking to you.
“How long have you worked here?” he asks anyway.
“Almost three years,” you reply. You’re not sure you want to tell him anything about your life, but you’re trying to be polite.
“Experienced,” he says, smiling like he’s a lion closing in on its prey, “I like that.” It’s cheesy and kind of sleazy, and you can’t help but scoff in disbelief. He’s watching you like a hawk, studying your reactions to everything he says and does. You dump the second shot, wishing the coffee would brew faster so this interaction could be over.
“I don’t think I want to know what else you like,” you say, crossing your arms over your chest. You used to get embarrassed and rattled by customers making comments like this, but at some point something had changed inside you. Now you just get annoyed, no matter how hot the person may be.
“Feisty,” he says, smile changing slightly in a way you can’t parse, “I like that too.” You roll your eyes, making a quiet noise of disgust. It’s not great for business to react to customers this way, but you can’t help it.
“I like it when men are silent,” you reply, able to feel how withering your gaze is. His expression changes yet again, smile getting smaller but more genuine, scrunching the bottom of his eyes up a little. That feels more natural to you, looks more right on his face. Something about the new softness in his eyes soothes something inside of you.
The coffee machine beeps to signal that it’s ready, and you waste no time in grabbing the pot and filling the cup. You hand it off to him, giving your biggest, most obviously fake smile.
“Have a fantastic night,” you say, immediately rounding the counter and heading back to the booth. When you settle back into your seat, Brady is smiling at you like you’ve told the funniest joke in the world.
“What?” you ask, picking up your pen. Brady’s eyes flick up above your head, slightly to the left, staying there, prompting you to turn around. The man is standing behind you, small smile still in place.
“Brady’s told me so much about you,” he says, and it dawns on you, “Nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Matthew.” Your jaw falls open and you turn back to Brady, kicking him in the shin under the table. He yelps; Matthew laughs.
“You’re both the worst,” you spit, trying to hold onto your irritation and failing. You laugh alongside the brothers, begrudgingly amused by the ridiculousness of the situation.
“Sorry about that back there,” Matthew apologizes, seemingly genuine, “I couldn’t help myself.” You shake your head at him as he bullies Brady further into the booth so he can sit. Brady shoves him back, but moves his things over anyway.
“It’s okay,” you say, pointing at him, “But if you ever pull that shit again, I’m banning you from the shop.” That startles a laugh out of him.
“I didn’t know you had the power to do that,” he replies, using his crossed arms to lean on the table.
“I do now,” you say, tilting your chin up, “Gonna put a picture up of you with a big X on it and everything.” You stare at each other for a second, and he breaks first, ducking his head as he laughs.
“Fair enough,” he concedes, looking up at you through his lashes. Your heart skips a beat, but you do your best to seem unaffected. This is your friend’s brother, for Christ’s sake. You can’t be all aflutter over him. You’re not sure you have a choice in the matter.
June, 2023
You might actually kill your coworker one day. He’s such a smug rat bastard, and every meeting including both of you makes you think you’re going to grind your teeth into dust. It’s just lucky that the job is remote, so you don’t have to be around him physically. Probably best for both your sanity and his safety.
“I mean, at least you were right in the end?” Terri says, sounding uncertain through your headphones. You’re sauteeing some onions and peppers, moving them around more than you should be just for something to do with your hands.
“Yeah, I guess,” you sigh, “I just don’t understand why he wants to make me look bad.” Ian– the coworker– seems to always have some kind of comment on your work, some type of criticism. Constructive criticism is part of the game, but his is never constructive. It doesn’t help that you’re the only two in the graphics department, so he’s always there when you present work. And really, being the only two should mean that you work together and support each other, honestly.
“Because he’s an insecure man-child,” Terri replies easily. You shake your head down at the vegetables, startling as the oven timer goes off. You jab at the button to turn it off, opening the door to remove the chicken.
“I think I’ve had enough of insecure man-children,” you grumble. You cut open one of the chicken breasts with more force than is strictly necessary, grateful that it seems to be done.
“You finally wanna talk about that?” Terri asks, and honestly? No, you don’t. Ideally, you’ll never talk about it, just push it down into the darkest recesses of your mind and bury it there. Unfortunately, you possess some level of emotional maturity, which means you know that you have to talk about it eventually.
It’s hard, because despite Brady being your best friend, you can’t exactly talk to him about this. If he knew any part of what’s been going on, he’d probably go physically fight Matthew on your behalf. Part of you thinks that might actually make you feel a little better. But he’d also probably be mad that you’ve had a not-thing with his brother, and that would make you feel worse.
“She seems like a nice woman,” you say, trying to keep your tone neutral. Terri sighs, and you take your plate of food to the living room to eat.
“She’s not the problem, here,” she says. She’s right, and you know it. You really don’t have anything against Tessa, and obviously you can’t blame her for any of this. Clearly, she had no idea about your not-thing with Matthew, and genuinely fell for him. There’s no point in being mad at her.
“Yeah, well,” you push some food around your plate, “He’s a fuckface and she can have him.” The mention of Matthew has ruined your appetite, the meal now looking completely unappealing. You push the plate to the other side of the coffee table with a huff. You’ll try eating again later, you tell yourself, knowing that you haven’t been eating nearly enough lately. You can’t help it, your inner turmoil chasing away your hunger most of the time.
“He is a fuckface,” Terri agrees, adding, “But don’t pretend you don’t still want him.” Ugh. Friends are the worst, actually, and you should just become a hermit in a cave somewhere. There’s no point even trying to deny the claim, both of you knowing that she’s right.
“I’m not allowed to want him anymore,” you say, voice coming out weaker than you want to admit, “I never should have let myself want him in the first place.” In the beginning, despite being attracted to Matthew, it was easy to maintain distance. He was in Calgary most of the year, and reminding yourself that he was your new friend’s brother actually worked as a deterrent back then.
You can’t pinpoint exactly when you started letting yourself get caught up, but you’d ended up completely entangled with him. Now he’s put that distance back between you, ripping away the strings you’d been tied up in, leaving you with all these empty spaces where he used to be. And it’s making you hate yourself, knowing that if you’d just kept things cordial, restricted your attention and connection to Brady like you should have, you wouldn’t be feeling any of this right now.
“You can’t help who you love,” Terri says, so gently that it only hurts more. You’re not fragile, okay? You don’t need the softness, the careful handling. You’re not fragile. You’re not.
“I gotta go eat,” you say, not wanting to lie, but needing a way out of the conversation, “Bye, Ter.” She says your name, but you just repeat the goodbye. She sighs, says goodbye, and you hang up. What you should do is eat something and go to sleep. Instead, you eye the easel in the corner of the living room. You sigh, heaving yourself up off of the couch to go grab a glass of water to rinse your brushes with.
April, 2019
It’s probably going to become your new favorite day of the year: the day Brady comes home from Ottawa. His plane had landed yesterday, and his parents had even brought you to the airport with them to pick him up. As quickly as you’d bonded last summer, you’d only gotten closer through the season. It feels like you can talk to each other about anything, like you were meant to meet, like he’s the platonic version of a soulmate. You had patiently waited your turn to hug him after his parents, squeezing him as tightly as you could manage. He’d only squeezed back harder.
With their seasons ending right around the same time this year, Matthew had landed the same night. Knowing they’d have to go back to the airport, the Tkachuks had decided to just spend the day out instead of going home. They’d invited you to come with them, an invitation you’d eagerly accepted. They’re quickly starting to feel like family to you, and you love spending time with them. For the first time in your life, it feels like you fit somewhere.
Unfortunately, you hadn’t been able to come along to pick up Matthew. You’d had to work last night, so the Tkachuks had dropped you off at home to get changed and get going. You’d still gotten to spend most of the day with them, which would have to be enough.
You’re going over to their place today, and you decided to bake and bring along cookies. All of their local family and friends are going to be there to welcome the boys home, and you haven’t met most of them yet, so you want to make a good first impression. Besides, it’s just polite to bring something along to someone’s house.
Though Brady still tries to hug you when you arrive, despite your hands being full, the plates need to be deposited on the dining room table before he can get a real one. There are a few people chatting in the room, so Brady introduces you to them.
Most of the next hour goes much the same, Brady introducing you to family and friends, having small conversations with all of them. You know that Brady isn’t trying to embarrass you, but he has a habit of hyping you up to people. He’s more outgoing than you are, and he uses that social ease to brag about how smart you are, how talented. It feels a little like he’s trying to justify being your friend to them, but you know better than to think that Brady cares what anyone thinks of him and his choices.
The kitchen exits onto a large cherry wood deck, scattered with chairs, some of them already occupied. The back yard is sprawling, green grass lined with lush bushes. There’s a pool to the right, not opened for the summer yet, a jacuzzi positioned between it and the house. You’re still not really used to all of this, the casual wealth of the family. It’s so far from what you’d grown up with, something that had astonished you when you’d realized just how far above you the Tkachuks are.
There are a few yard games set up in the grass, cornhole and ladders and something you don’t recognize. And there, in the center of the yard, Matthew is teaching a child how to play ladders. The kid is probably a cousin, of which they have many. Matthew is barefoot, wearing a bright red Flames hoodie and black shorts that only come to mid-thigh. You’ve narrowed your staring down to a minimum, so your eyes only linger for a second or two before you turn back to Brady.
He guides you around to meet the few people braving the chilly spring weather, much as he had done inside. Everyone is so nice, saying how pleased they are to meet you, and seeming to mean it.
Your last stop is Matthew, who interrupts his lesson to hug you. It’s only the second time the two of you have done so, the first having been the last time you saw him before he left for the season. Despite that fact, he squeezes you almost as hard as Brady had, as if you’re his best friend too. Not that you’d presume to be Brady’s best friend, but. Still.
“It’s good to see you, Y/N,” he says when you pull apart, and the expression on his face tells you how genuine it is. Your smile is almost involuntary, turning up the corners of your mouth and baring just a hint of teeth.
“Welcome home, Matthew,” you reply, “We missed you.” You’re not sure what “we” you’re referring to, but it feels less incriminating than saying “I missed you”. You get the feeling that he understands anyway, beaming at you.
The three of you chat for a few minutes, Matthew introducing you to his little cousin. With there being four of you, you decide to play a game of ladders, to test the little one’s skills. He’s pretty good, for a kid, and you and Brady make sure to throw well enough to convince him that you’re trying, but still let him win. Throughout, Matthew gives him tips and instruction, so kind and gentle that it makes your heart ache. They cheer when they win, high fiving and teasing you and Brady.
You go inside to spend some time with Keith and Chantal. Chantal gives you a big hug, as if she hadn’t just seen you yesterday. Keith gives you a hearty clap on the shoulder. Taryn appears at some point, sneaking up behind you and poking your sides to make you jump. You laugh along with her, enfolding her into the conversation easily.
Time flies by, the sun setting around you, the house lights turning on one by one as darkness descends. Eventually, you end up lounging in the den with the other adult kids. From your visits last year, the chair in the corner has become yours. You’re settled in, legs folded up under you as something that no one is watching plays on the TV. Brady and Taryn get into a heated debate about something or another, and Matthew gives you a long-suffering look as his younger siblings bicker. You just smile back at him, finding the family’s passion entirely endearing.
“Seventeen years of this,” Matthew gripes, clearly not as annoyed as he’s trying to seem.
“And sixty more to go,” you reply. Matthew chuckles at that, looking to Brady and Taryn with such fondness that you almost can’t stand it. It’s the kind of relationship you’d wanted with your own brothers, but that’s best not to think about.
“Hopefully,” Matthew says, turning that fond look toward you. Your heart skips a beat, and you’ve gotten good at ignoring that.
May, 2019
You shouldn’t be this nervous, but you are. Terri is on speaker phone, telling you about her new job. You’re half-listening, staring at the clothing laid out on your bed. You’ve been agonizing all morning about what you’re going to wear, how you’re going to do your makeup, if you should wear makeup at all.
“I’m glad that your boss defended you,” you say to Terri, still tuned in enough to follow her story, “She seems cool.”
“She’s so cool,” Terri gushes, “She’s my favorite now.” You’re so happy that Terri has finally found a good job, especially with how hellish her previous one had been. This one pays almost double what she was getting before, too, which definitely doesn’t hurt. She expounds a little more about the things she loves about her boss, and you decide to hang back up the dresses you’ve laid out. It’s still a little too chilly to wear them, especially after sundown.
“You’re still staring at those damn clothes, aren’t you?” Terri asks, switching the topic suddenly. Your face gets warm as you make a plaintive hand gesture, despite her not being able to see you.
“Clothes are stupid and I can’t decide,” you complain, trying to imagine how each of the final two options will come across. If you try too hard, Matthew might think that you think this is a date, but you still want to look good. You know it’s not a date, but you’re still kind of acting like it is, and it’s embarrassing.
“Definitely wear jeans,” Terri advises, “That’ll make it more casual.” You agree, putting away the skirt you’d paired with the one shirt, trying to picture how it would look with jeans. You move the pants between each shirt, before giving up and just putting them on. You’ll just try on both outfits and see which one you like better.
Once dressed in the first option, you take a picture to send to Terri. You look at yourself in the mirror, turning this way and that. After a minute or two of consideration, you switch tops. You take another picture and send both to Terri for her opinion.
“Oh, definitely the second one,” she says, “The first one makes you look like you’re going to a job interview.” You look at the picture again, and can’t deny that she’s right. You put that one away, settled in your decision. You’re not sure if Matthew has ever seen you in anything but jeans and a t-shirt, so you hope the red tank top layered with a tucked-in sheer pink printed blouse isn’t too much of a change.
When Matthew had invited you to take a walk around the park yesterday, just the two of you. You’ve never spent more than a few minutes alone with him, always having Brady or Taryn or Emma to provide distraction and distance. This time you’ll have nothing to focus on but him.
The time comes soon enough, and you gather your things, not wanting to make Matthew wait for you when he arrives. You’d offered to drive yourself and meet him there, but he’d waved off the idea immediately, saying that he’d pick you up.
A knock comes at your door right on time. You take a deep breath before you open it, settling your frenzied heart. Matthew smiles as soon as he sees you.
“Oh wow,” he says, almost absentmindedly, “You look great.” Your blush is immediate, and you hope he can’t see it. It seems that anything that comes out of his mouth makes you blush, sometimes.
The drive to the park isn’t too long. When you arrive, you gather your bag from the floor of the passenger seat, and by time you move to get a hand on the door handle, Matthew is already opening the door from the outside. It’s a sweet surprise, and you thank him as you climb out of the car.
It’s a nice day, not too cold or windy for once. The two of you walk, talking about this and that, moving from topic to topic as they arise. You point out a few birds as you go, and Matthew listens to the little fun facts you give about them. He seems genuinely interested, but even if he’s not, at least he’s polite enough to pretend.
“I guess we should have left a little earlier,” Matthew remarks as the sun goes down, the light fading around you. The sun sets quickly this time of year, so you’re still a few minutes out from the car by time it’s completely dark. The lights along the pathway bathe Matthew in yellow light, casting warm shadows in the dips and hollows of his face.
“At least I have a big, strong man to protect me,” you joke, elbowing him.
“Oh no, if we get jumped I’m running,” he replies, shooting a shit-eating grin down at you. You gasp and press a hand to your heart, as if you’re truly scandalized.
“You would really abandon me like that?” you ask. His smile softens at the edges.
“Never,” he says, looking so genuine that it makes your heart flutter, pausing before he adds, “Unless we’re getting robbed.” Your combined laughter rings out through the trees.
June, 2023
You’ve managed to avoid any questions about your odd behavior, and it’s getting easier to act normal over time. A couple weeks have passed since your first meeting with Tessa, and you still feel like ripping your skin off when you see her touching Matthew, but you’ve gotten better at hiding it. It’s not your place to be upset, anyway.
The diner is bustling at this time of day, the tail end of lunch rush. You had to wait a little bit to get seated, but now you’re sitting at the end of a booth in a chair they’d pulled up to the edge to make up for all five of you not fitting into the booth. It makes you feel a little left out, the only one not paired off, a fifth wheel to the two couples on either side of the table. You block that out, a skill you’ve had for years, but have had to strengthen rapidly over the past few weeks.
Brady has an arm around Emma’s shoulders, and you can tell by the angle of Matthew’s arm that he has a hand on Tessa’s thigh. You remember when that was you, Matthew touching you so casually, so naturally. Sitting across from Matthew as he nudges your foot under the table, sitting next to him with your shoulders pressed together, fingers tangled together on the seat, where no one could see.
Emma is telling a story about a night out with some of her girlfriends, and you’re laughing along at the antics with everyone else. When she asks you about work, you try to clear the perpetual lump in your throat before answering, succeeding in sounding happy, though the tightness remains.
When your food arrives, you spend most of the time pushing it around your plate to make it look like you’re eating. You never have an appetite around Matthew anymore, weirdly embarrassed about being seen eating in a way you haven’t been since you were a teenager. You’ll take it home and eat it later, if you can stop thinking about Matthew for two fucking seconds.
You’re not sure how long that’s going to be impossible, but you hope it’s not much longer.
January, 2020
You’ve been to a few games when the boys have played the Blues, but you’ve never made the trip up to Canada to see them play each other before. Ottawa is nice, Brady and Emma having shown you around a little when you’d arrived. Your nerves had been shot from the anxiety of traveling abroad for the first time, even though it was just to Canada. The couple seemed to understand, only taking you around for a few hours before bringing you home.
Brady’s apartment is nice, really nice. He’s offered you the guest room for a few days, and you appreciate not having to pay for a hotel. He’ll be home for six days before he has to go to St. Louis for the All Star game, so you’d arranged to stay in Ottawa and fly back home with them.
Luckily, the cafe is pretty cool about rearranging your schedule, so you’ll just have to work some extra days when you go back to make up for what you’re missing. You’d asked for the days of the skills competition and game off as well, Brady having managed to get you a ticket. Your manager has always thought it was cool that you were friends with the Tkachuks, so she had agreed to give you the time off if you brought her a souvenir. Matthew and Brady had offered to sign a jersey for her without you even having to ask, and you’ll owe them for a while, though they insist you don’t.
Matthew gets in that first night, the three of you meeting him at his hotel. You’re not sure how he managed it, but he’ll be staying a few days instead of returning to Calgary with the team after the game. Maybe he got a special exception because this game is the last before All Star week, and he has to go to St. Louis anyway. No matter the reason, you’re glad he gets to stay.
The game the next night is exciting, and definitely worth the trip. With the Senators’ performance in recent years, it’s mostly the diehard fans left, so the atmosphere is electric. You get swept up in the passion and joy, especially when the game ends with a 5-2 win for Ottawa.
The boys have to debrief and get changed, which you know will take a while. Emma and you wait with the WAGs, Emma excited to introduce you to them. Some of them think you’re a new WAG at first, which is honestly kind of flattering. All of the ladies are surprisingly kind and welcoming, and you enjoy interacting with them as you all wait.
Matthew emerges first, guided down the hallway by one of the arena staff. His steps pick up pace when he sees you and Emma, and he shoots a quick thanks to the staff member before jogging over to the two of you. He immediately enfolds you in his arms, squeezing tight and holding longer than usual. You know it’s difficult for him to lose at all, let alone to his brother, so you let him hold you as long as he wants.
Once he lets you go, he meets your eyes. His smile is soft, tinged with a slight sadness that you want to wipe away.
“Hey there, sweet girl,” he greets, and your breath catches at the term of endearment. He’d started using it a few months ago, and it still makes your chest tight. You know that it doesn’t mean anything, but you still imagine sometimes that it does.
He turns his attention to Emma, giving her a hug as well, just one quick squeeze before releasing. The three of you start talking, waiting patiently for Brady. It doesn’t shock you that he takes so long to come out, knowing his unofficial position of leadership in the team. The guys come out one by one, hugging and kissing their wives and girlfriends, the number of ladies dwindling as they leave with their men.
When Brady finally emerges, he heads straight over to give Emma a hug and kiss. He hugs you next, before punching Matthew’s shoulder. They have a little back-and-forth as you all exit the arena, taking harmless jabs at each other all the way to the car.
The main issue with the living arrangements for the trip had been that Brady and Emma were going to have two guests and only one spare room. Matthew had offered to sleep on the couch, but he’s too tall for that, and you don’t want him to end up sore or hurting his neck during the season. You’d insisted that you’d sleep on the couch, but both Matthew and Brady had immediately vetoed that idea. Then you’d found out that the guest room has two twin beds instead of one bigger one, and the answer was simple.
Matthew sets his suitcase and backpack next to the door when you get home. You’ve already claimed the bed on the far side, so he gets set up on the one closer to the door. Emma and Brady are in the kitchen, making a post-game snack for everyone, so it’s just you and Matthew.
“You excited to be roomies for a week?” he asks, unzipping his suitcase. Yours is already open under the window, so you grab some pajamas out of it.
“Depends how loud you snore,” you tease. He shoots you a toothy smile.
“Oh, it’s gonna be loud,” he says. You chuckle a bit, knowing he’s joking. Emma calls for you, then, and you leave your clothes on the bed to go to her. The four of you converse as you eat, seated in a row at the kitchen island. You’ve got Matthew to one side and Brady to the other, and they take turns kicking your ankles. You kick back, grinning at Emma when she kicks Brady’s other side.
Brady and Matthew had already showered at the rink, so they sit in the living room while you and Emma get ready for bed. She uses the master suite, and you use the bathroom in the hall. It’s nice, if small, with a simple stall shower instead of a tub. You go through your routine on autopilot, only realizing when you’re done that you’d left your clothes in the bedroom. You wrap yourself in a towel, doing your best to sneak past the door to the living room.
When you look to make sure your stealth is working, you meet Matthew’s eyes. It stops you in your tracks. You can’t discern the look on his face, and you’re not sure that you care to. He shoots you an easy smile, and you wave at him like an idiot, acting on instinct. It only makes him smile wider, and you scurry off to the room.
After you’re dressed, there’s a knock on the door. Brady asks if you’re decent, and you confirm that you are, so he peeks his head in. Once he sees that you truly are dressed, he opens the door the rest of the way. He and Emma bid you good night, telling you to just ask if you need anything. You thank them and say good night in return, Matthew entering the room as soon as the other two retreat to their own room. He’s barely two steps into the room before he’s pulling off his shirt.
“Woah there, cowboy,” you say, holding up a hand in front of you. He just shrugs at you.
“Gotta get ready for bed,” he says, bending over and lifting his foot to remove his socks. You’d figured that he would wear a t-shirt and shorts to bed like you, but you should’ve guessed he’d be the type to sleep shirtless, no matter who’s around. He’s naked in front of thirty people every day, who cares about being shirtless?
You do your best to brush it off, turning down the covers of your bed so that you can crawl in. Normally, you would read for a bit before bed, but you’re tired enough tonight that you don’t think you need to. You pull the blankets up to your chin, turning on your side. Unfortunately, you sleep on your right, so you end up facing Matthew’s bed. Is that weird? Should you try sleeping the opposite direction?
Matthew doesn’t say anything, flicking the lights off and crawling into bed. He sleeps on his left, apparently, so he’s facing you too. That’s a little awkward, right? As your eyes adjust to the dark, you’re able to see the glint of his teeth as he smiles over at you.
“Sleep well, sweet girl,” he says quietly. You return the sentiment, grateful that the darkness means he probably can’t fully see the embarrassment on your face. You’re backlit by the window, so you convince yourself that he can’t.
The next morning, you wake to Matthew already out of bed, stretching. Your eyes roam his back, taking in the dips and ridges of his muscles. Only at the last second do you realize that his head is turned to the side, and he’s staring at you through the corner of his eye. You quickly avert your gaze, turning to sit bolt upright on the other side of the bed, facing the window.
The four of you spend the day exploring the city, Brady and Emma seeming to have planned what they want to show you. It’s nice, peaceful and fun. You make them take pictures with you in front of landmarks or cool art pieces, all of you squished together to fit in the selfie.
It isn’t until the fourth night that anything out of the ordinary happens. You’re lying in bed, having turned on your back to stare at the ceiling, unable to sleep. You probably shouldn’t have had that affogato after dinner, though usually they don’t bother you this much. No matter how long you toss and turn, how many sleeping positions you try, you can’t even make yourself tired, let alone actually fall asleep.
“What are you, a rotisserie chicken?” Matthew asks rhetorically, breaking the silence. His voice is hushed, but it still startles you. You turn your head to stare at him, finding him staring right back.
“I’m sorry,” you apologize, sheepish, “I can’t sleep.” Matthew’s lips quirk up at one end.
“Me either,” he says, sitting up. You mimic his posture, then scoot back to lean against the headboard. He slings his legs over the edge of the bed and stands, and you think for a second that he’s going to turn on the light. Instead, he takes the two steps to your bed, motioning to the mattress. You nod, prompting him to start shoving your shoulder, bullying you into making space for him. You giggle, trying to keep quiet to respect the late hour.
“So,” he leads, taking a long moment to just stare at you before continuing, “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” You’re taken off guard by the request, not sure how to respond.
“I was an Aaron Carter girl growing up,” you pull out of thin air. Matthew’s face breaks into a wide smile, sunshine in the middle of the night.
“Really?” he asks. You nod, mumbling “yeah” in confirmation. That’s all it takes to get you both talking. You trade off back and forth, telling each other small things about yourself that may not come up otherwise, launching into short discussions about some of the statements.
“My favorite color is red,” he says at one point, when you’re starting to think you may fall asleep.
“I thought it was blue?” you reply, remembering Chantal mention that at some point. Matthew starts fiddling with his hands.
“I tell people it’s blue, but it’s really red,” he says. You tilt your head an inch or two, furrowing your brow at him.
“Why?” you ask. He ducks his head.
“Red is an angry color,” he explains, voice quieter than before, “With my reputation, I don’t want people to associate me with an aggressive color. I don’t want to play into the stereotype.” You hum, looking forward. It feels like this isn’t the best time to look at him, like he’ll clam up if you witness his vulnerability.
“It’s also the color of vitality, excitement, love,” you counter, leaving just a breath of a pause, “It’s a good color for you.” The entire room is still for a dragging moment, before Matthew gently knocks your shoulders together.
“What about you?” he asks when you look back to him. There’s a fraction of a change in his face, but you don’t comment on it.
When you wake up in the morning, you’re still sitting up, head resting on Matthew’s shoulder, his head laying on top of yours. You suppress the instinct to startle, not wanting to disrupt him, lest he wake up and move. His skin is warm under your cheek, your arms lined up from shoulder to the knuckles of your fingers. You close your eyes again, trying to keep your breathing steady, as if you’re still sleeping. You’ve been trying so hard to keep distance between Matthew and yourself, but you’ll allow yourself to enjoy this, just for a moment longer.
There’s a shift in Matthew’s breathing, his fingers twitching against yours. It settles after a second, into a different pattern, intentionally deep and even. You’re sure that he’s awake, that he’s doing the same thing that you are. You’re not sure what to do with that information.
The rest of the trip goes by smoothly, Brady and Emma showing you both the touristy things and the better local spots around the city. If the same thing happens the next night, and the night after that, you and Matthew talking in low voices until you fall asleep against each other, neither of you mention it.
April, 2020
While the initial prediction for lockdown was that it would only last a month, it’s clear that it’s going to last much, much longer.
It’s probably lucky that you’d just started a new job, one that can be done remotely, rather than either working at the coffee shop or being laid off. It’s not exactly what you want to do, but it’s at least in the artistic field, so you try to be grateful anyway. It’s difficult being locked away in your apartment, but you’re grateful that you’re luckier than essential workers and people who are losing their jobs altogether.
The thing that keeps you sane in all of this is your phone. More specifically, it’s your friends. You’ve developed almost a schedule with it, calling Terri in the morning for an hour or so before work. At lunch, you facetime Brady and Emma for another hour, not envying them being stuck so far from home. It must be hard to be in an entirely different country than your family.
The highlight of each day is the evening, when you facetime Matthew. Though he spends most of the day sending you videos and memes and updates about whatever little thing he’s doing at the moment, it’s still nice to talk to him out loud. Seeing his face helps your growing loneliness a little bit.
You’re in your living room, your phone propped up against the arm of the couch as you show off the few things you’ve made since picking up crochet a couple weeks ago. Matthew compliments each of them, commending you for your improvement. He’s the only one you’ve shown, too embarrassed to let anyone else see the wonky scarves with uneven stitches.
“You have time to work on any paintings lately?” he asks, once you’re done your little show and tell. The truth is that you’ve got three new canvases drying in the kitchen. The truth is also that the man asking about them is the inspiration for their creation. There’s nothing incriminating about them; it’s not like they’re portraits of him or something. But you’re still hesitant to show him, because even if he doesn’t know, you do.
You show him anyway. The painting of the park is his favorite, and you wonder if he knows that it’s the one you went to for your first time alone together. It’s mostly dark, greens and blues so deep they look black, yellow triangles of light splitting the canvas into section. If you look closely enough, the brush strokes fill in the details of the trees, the grass, the pavement. Your phone camera isn’t good enough for Matthew to see that, but he compliments it anyway.
“You should paint me something for my apartment,” he says after you show him all three. You’re not opposed to the idea, actually enjoy the thought of something you made being showcased in his home.
“What do you want?” you ask, a hundred ideas already flitting through your mind. The only way you’ve seen his apartment is through the background of pictures he sends you sometimes, or little glimpses you catch as he walks around while you facetime. You’re not entirely sure of the vibe, but you’re sure you can figure something out.
“What makes you think of me?” he asks in return. You stop in your tracks in the doorway between the kitchen and living room. The hand holding your phone lowers a couple inches unintentionally, your gaze drifting above the screen, staring into the middle distance. What makes you think of him? Hockey, obviously. Family. Curling up under a blanket on a cold night. Laying on the couch with your feet up on the armrest, your head propped up on a pillow, a sad replacement for his lap. Spruce trees, gold, pitbulls, mushroom pizza, black eyes– both the drink and the wound.
Everything. Everything makes you think of him.
You can’t say that, obviously. You search your brain for something personal but innocuous, something sentimental but still acceptable. You think of all the time that you two have spent together over the past few years, memories springing up, some that you’d even forgotten about. Some that you’ll never be able to forget about.
“Can I surprise you?” you ask. You’re given that familiar smile in response, any iteration of which makes your heart stutter in your chest.
“Yeah,” he says, propping his face up with one hand on his jaw, “I trust you.”
July, 2023
Some people may say that Terri’s apartment is cluttered, but you just find it cozy. She has decorations and knick-knacks on every surface, but the comfiest couch you’ve ever sat on. That’s where you are now, stretched out with your back against the side, Terri mimicking your posture at the other end, your legs tangled together in the middle.
“We should see the Barbie movie when it comes out,” she says, unprompted. You look up from the hook and yarn in your hands, tipping your head to the side for a second and shrugging.
“It looks good,” you say, an indirect agreement. You haven’t been to the movies since before lockdown, so it might be nice to go back.
“D’you think Gabe would want to come?” she asks cautiously, “He could bring the kids.” The mention of your brother still makes ice crawl in your chest, but it’s not as bad as it once was. He’d reached out last year, trying to reconnect with you, and apparently your other brother too. You’ve only seen him a few times since, but it’s more than you’d seen him in the four years prior, combined.
“It’s worth a shot, right?” Terri asks, eyes flicking toward your phone sitting on the coffee table. You look toward it as well, debating for a second. It would be nice to see your nieces and nephews, but it also hurts that they barely know who you are.
“Yeah,” you agree after a second, “Worth a shot.” You grab your phone, feeling as if it’s going to explode in your hands if you move too quickly. There are a few notifications when you wake the screen, which you ignore to unlock it. You open your texts, backing out of your thread with Terri from earlier. You have a picture message from Brady, just a selfie of him and Emma smiling, which you send a heart in response to. Backing out of that thread, you see another new message, underneath the contact name you haven’t had the heart to change. The red and purple hearts next to his name– each of your favorite colors– having been there so long that getting rid of them feels wrong, no matter how it makes your chest hurt to see them.
Can we talk?
You tap the back button as quickly as you can. You can’t respond. You should, to be polite, but you can’t. If you do, you’ll say something you regret. It’ll probably be agreement or the words “eat shit”, and either option will get you into trouble. You can’t respond. You want so badly to talk to him. You want so desperately to go back in time and never meet him.
Your fingers tremble as you draft a text to your brother, typing and deleting and re-typing a few times before you settle on the wording. You have more important things to worry about than Matthew.
August, 2020
The bubble was an interesting idea. It may not be the best idea in the world, despite the safety precautions, but you know Matthew is just happy to be back on the ice. He’s already sent you a dozen pictures of the hotel, of him with his teammates and friends, masked up together in the lobby. You tell him to tell the boys that you say hello, and he texts you each of their responses.
The first round goes well, the Flames only losing one game to the Jets. You know Matthew had been worried about going through all the rules and protocols just to be eliminated immediately, so you’re glad that that isn’t the case.
The series against the Stars starts out with an exciting back-and-forth, the teams trading off wins. Then the Stars win game 5, breaking the pattern. You’re not expecting the last game to actually be the last, convinced that the Flames would at least make it to a game seven. But the Stars pull a decisive 7-3 win, the Flames falling apart in the second period and unable to get themselves back together.
Matthew has called you as soon as he got back to his hotel room after every game, so you’re expecting your phone to ring some time in the next hour or two. You putter around the apartment a little, putting away some dishes and wiping down the kitchen counters. You’d been painting during the game, a commission from a friend of a friend of a friend. You return to that, losing yourself in the meticulous movements of your brush.
It feels like it’s been too long. You try to focus on the canvas in front of you, but there’s a nagging sense in the back of your mind that something is wrong. It sits heavy at the base of your skull as you try to ignore it.
Eventually, it becomes too much. You check your phone to make sure that you haven’t missed his call, but there are no notifications. It’s been a little over two hours. You unlock your phone and pull up his contact in a second, pressing the video icon. Typically, he’ll pick up after one or two rings, but you hear the third ring, the fourth. The call disconnects, shock shooting up your spine. It only lasts a second, your phone ringing with a voice call almost immediately.
“Hey sweet girl,” Matthew greets you in his typical fashion as soon as you accept the call. There’s something off about his voice, and it takes you a second to realize what it is.
“Hey there, darling,” you respond, voice as gentle as you can manage. It’s not the first time you’ve heard Matthew cry, but it breaks your heart every time. As much as he tries to seem tough and aloof, you know how deeply losses like this affect him. Now it makes sense that he didn’t want video involved.
“How are you?” he asks, clearly moving his face away from the receiver as he sniffles, but you can still hear it. You move to the couch, sinking into the cushions, as if you’re as crushed as he is.
“I’m okay,” you reply, “You holding up okay?” You know he’ll say that he’s fine, but you also know that he’s not. He may not be for a while. There’s a pause, a long stretch of silence, only interrupted by his deep, labored breaths.
“I wish you were here,” he says. He sounds absolutely miserable, his voice cracking in the middle of the sentence. The urge to hold him is overwhelming, your arms buzzing with the desire to wrap around him. You want to pull him down into your lap, let him tuck his head into the crook of your neck, let him cry on you as you scratch his scalp and kiss his head. Lockdown isn’t the only reason that can’t happen.
“I’m going to hug you so hard,” you insist, “As soon as I can see you again.”
July, 2023
While you’re still a third wheel with Brady and Emma, it’s better than being a fifth wheel with the entire group. You’d asked Taryn if she wanted to tag along, but she has training to do. Brady had already done his that morning, so he’s free for the rest of the day, and had invited you to spend some time together.
You’re certain that he doesn’t know how you feel about this place, how much it hurts to be here. As far as he’s aware, this is your favorite park, the one you visit with Matthew at least a few times a month every summer. He probably thinks it’s a great choice, something to cheer you up from the slump you know he’s noticed.
Despite the memories tugging at you from every direction, you’re mostly in a good mood. You’d gotten excellent news the day before yesterday, an opportunity you’ve dreamed of for a long time. You wanted to text Brady right after the meeting to tell him, but you’d decided it was better to share it with him and Emma in person. You’re debating something that absolutely doesn’t matter, all of you talking over each other. You’re waiting for the right moment to change the conversation. It doesn’t come until almost an hour into your walk, but you jump on it as soon as it does.
“I have some cool news,” you say, breaking the silent pause that had fallen over the group.
“Well?” Emma replies, “Go on.” The excitement is bubbling up inside of you again at the thought of it, your stomach turning, your chest too full.
“You know that gallery downtown that I love?” you ask, continuing after they agree, “I’m going to do a show there.” They stop in their tracks, Emma immediately enfolding you in her arms. You hug her back, squeezing tight as she bounces on her toes. When she pulls back, she holds your face in her hands, voice high and thrilled as she congratulates you. The smile on your face is unavoidable, happiness from the news mingling with the happiness of your friends being proud of you.
“Cool news, huh?” Brady asks, lightly smacking your shoulder as he says, “What an understatement.” The circle of his arms feels safe, his chest warm against your cheek as he holds you tight. The look on his face when he releases you is the best reaction you’ve gotten so far, his pride meaning more than anyone else’s.
“When is it?” he asks, taking Emma’s hand in his own once again and resuming the walk. You follow along, too excited to be self-conscious of the visible skip in your step.
“August 20th,” you say. There’s an unspoken question there, a silent invitation. You don’t want him to feel pressured to come, knowing that despite how supportive he is of your artistic endeavors, he’s not big on things like art shows. In the end, you don’t have to ask.
“You know we’re coming, right?” he asks, aiming a crooked smile at you, “You can’t stop us.” Though the smile hasn’t left your face since you brought up the topic, it gets brighter in return.
“I’d never dream of trying to,” you reply, and you mean it.
October, 2020
It’s odd to have the boys around at this time of year, the season usually taking them away at the end of August. You’re grateful for it, though. It means that you get to spend time with them, lockdown finally over, freeing you from the confines of your apartment. Your job has stayed remote, so you’re able to be around even more, saving time on what used to be an hour long commute each way.
Right now, it’s you and the boys, Emma, and Terri. You’d introduced her to them less than a month ago, but they already love her, just as you knew they would. She doesn’t always come around with you, considering how you spend nearly every day at the Tkachuks’, but she has some time today.
After twenty minutes of debating what you should watch, you all agree on a true crime documentary. You’ve given up your chair for Terri, squishing yourself onto the couch with Brady and Emma, pressing your cold feet against her leg and laughing when she yelps. She kicks you, only serving to make you laugh harder. Brady playfully threatens to fight you to defend his woman’s honor, and you put your fists up in front of you, jabbing out into the air as if you’re going to take him up on the offer. He chuckles, reaching out to fist bump you instead of punch. You drop your hands, looking past his big ass head.
Matthew is lounging in the second chair, the leg rest of the recliner up despite his legs being crossed under him. It’s the only way the chair will lean back, he’d told you once, and he doesn’t like sitting upright.
The smile on his face isn’t the wide grin you’d expected. It’s small, a gentle turn of the lips. Combined with the look he’s giving you– something unfocused, something unbearably soft– it implies an emotion that you know can’t be the correct interpretation. You swallow hard, turning your eyes back to Brady.
“Press play already, nerd,” you demand, tone playful enough to show that you don’t mean it. He sticks his tongue out at you, but does as he’s told.
Five minutes in, you glance over at Matthew, finding him already looking at you. You look away, slightly embarrassed to be caught. Another five minutes later, you can’t help but peek back at him again, as if your eyes are magnetized to him. It’s almost disappointing that he’s actually looking at the screen. It only takes a second for his eyes to move to the side, peering at you in his peripheral. The corner of his lips quirks up the tiniest bit, almost unnoticeable. But you notice.
You only make it maybe half an hour into the film before Matthew leans forward and snatches the remote from its place next to Brady. The plaintive sound Brady lets out is kind of funny, but you seem to think everything is funny today. Matthew pauses the show, declaring that the group needs snacks.
“Y/N, come give me a hand,” he says, beckoning you to follow him. You grumble a bit, but stand and follow him up the stairs and out of the den. He leads the way through the living room and into the kitchen. They’re fancy, so they have a walk-in pantry, of course. The two of you enter one after another. You start looking at the snack section, deciding what to grab. The good thing about being the one to retrieve the food is that you get to choose whatever you want and there’s nothing the others can say about it.
You’re rifling through the chips and pretzels when you feel a presence close behind you. It’s obviously Matthew, but he’s so close that you can feel the heat of his body radiating into your back. His left hand comes into your field of vision, pressing to the shelves next to your head. You twist your neck to look back at him, confused as to what he’s doing.
You’re not expecting the look he’s giving you. His eyes dark, completely focused in on your face. Your eyes flick from his eyes to his mouth without your permission. He’s not smiling, his lips parted just a fraction of an inch.
He rests his right hand on your shoulder, using it to turn your entire body around to face him. You can feel how dumbfounded your expression is as you stare up at him, your brow furrowed, your mouth slightly agape. He returns the gesture of looking at your mouth, his tongue quickly flicking out to wet his lips. He looks like he’s about to eat you alive. You would let him.
There’s a long, unbearable stretch of silence as the two of you just stare at each other, faces only a scant few inches apart. If this were anyone else, you would know exactly what’s going on, exactly what they want. But this is Matthew, your insanely wonderful, insanely hot, insanely out of your league friend. There’s no chance that he’s about to do what it feels like he is. No matter how many times you steal glances at each other, how closely he holds you, how many times he allows himself to be vulnerable with you, there’s no chance he’d ever want you. And just as you tell yourself that, he speaks.
“Can I kiss you?” he asks, his breath brushing across your lips from the proximity. Your eyes go wide, your mouth falling open wider in shock. You’ve spent the last two years valiantly suppressing any type of attraction you have to him, trying to respect his station as your best friend’s brother. And now, in just four words, he’s let it all loose. It floods you inside, so overwhelming, so much to take all at once that it triggers a full system reset. You swear your heart stops, your mouth opening and closing as you struggle to tear the words from your lagging brain.
The words won’t come. The look on Matthew’s face is changing, something embarrassed, something guilty. He moves back an inch and you reach out, unwilling to let him go. You cup his face in your hands, pulling him in to press your lips together.
It’s lingering, almost chaste, and entirely sensational. Your lips are tingling, sparks shooting down your spine. Your chest feels cracked open, your innards exposed for his inspection, your true self exposed for his judgment.
When you pull back and open your eyes, his are still closed. He looks like he’s in heaven, like he’s trying to imprint this moment in his mind the same way that you are. After a moment, his eyelids slide up and he looks at you again. His eyes are hazy, unfocused, his blown pupils leaving only a thin ring of blue around the edge of his iris.
“Again,” he says, breathless, “Please.”
Who are you to deny him?
The second kiss is as good as the first, your breath abandoning your body to pant out against his lips. You meet again, his tongue flicking out for half a second to touch your top lip. It makes you breath hitch, makes you kiss him again, makes you gently bite his full bottom lip. The sound he lets out is barely audible, but it only feeds the fire inside of you, an inferno that blazes up from your hips to your throat. You cradle his face in your hands, hold just strong enough to move his head how you want, to slot your mouths together perfectly each time.
“Hurry up, asshole!”
Brady’s shout violently snaps you out of your haze. You jerk backward, trying to step away, but already pressed against the shelves. Matthew doesn’t seem as put off as you, smiling as if nothing happened. You relinquish your hold on his face, dropping your hands to your sides. His hands had wandered as you kissed, one on your waist, the other on the back of your neck. He squeezes once at the base of your skull, dipping in to give you one last quick kiss.
After frantically grabbing random snacks, you return to the den. You can feel how hot your face is, and you can only hope that it’s not too obvious how flustered you are. You and Matthew deposit the snacks on the coffee table, everyone immediately selecting one. You curl back up in your chair, legs pulled up to your chest as you lay sideways, head on the armrest.
Every time your eyes drift to Matthew for the rest of the evening, he’s looking back.
January, 2021
Just as the day the boys come home is the best day of the year, the day they leave for the season is the worst. Sometimes you wish you were Emma, that you could follow them back and forth and never be without them. But St. Louis is your home, is where you have a job and friends and more recently, family.
You’d helped both boys pack for the past few days, but you won’t be able to go along to drop them off at the airport. When Matthew had left for the playoffs, Emma had offered you her spot in the car. You’d told her that she didn’t have to, but she’d assured you she wanted it that way. She has to go along this time, so the car is already overpacked. Besides, you have to work that morning anyway.
You still show up at the Tkachuks’ beforehand, so early that the sun hasn’t made an appearance yet. Matthew had forgotten to pack his favorite sweater, of course. You fish it out from where it had fallen under his bed, straightening up to hold it out to him. He thanks you, deciding to wear it for the flight instead of shoving it into one of his bags. It looks good on him. Cozy.
Brady and Emma are double checking their room as well, one door down from you. Keith, Chantal, and Taryn are down in the living room, waiting as patiently as they’re capable of, which isn’t very much.
Being alone with Matthew used to be exciting, used to make your heart change its rhythm, used to start up a buzz under your skin. Now, it’s just… comfortable. Safe. Right.
When Matthew approaches you, crowding up into your space, you know exactly what he wants. The first time you’d kissed should have been the last. You’re too drawn to him, feel too much toward him, more than you should. More than he will ever return. The two of you haven’t discussed exactly what you’re doing here, but it’s clearly meant to be casual. Matthew isn’t typically the kind to shy away from voicing what he wants, and he hasn’t spoken up to define anything.
Is that what you want? You’re not sure. Making out like teenagers for months has been nice, has satisfied a part of you. But only a part.
You’re avoiding thinking about what you want, too afraid of what you’ll find. Some part of you, buried deep inside, hidden behind a recently built wall, already knows. If you allow yourself to acknowledge it, this will end badly. If you allow yourself to want, you’ll destroy yourself in the process.
The kisses he lays on your lips stay sweet, gentle presses, just a tease of tongue here and there. His arms are wrapped around you, resting on your shoulders, while your hands rest on his hips. You haven’t progressed past kissing, and you’re not sure if he wants anything beyond this. You’ll take what you can get.
Keith calls up the stairs for you to hurry up, lest the boys miss their flights. Matthew leaves one last peck on your lips, just as he always does before you part. You glance around his room a final time, making sure everything is packed. You help him bring his bags downstairs, help him and Emma get their things outside and into the car. You’ll have to go home as soon as they depart, and you’re actually a little grateful that you have work to distract you from the first hours of missing them.
As per usual, Emma is the first to hug you. You squeeze tight so that you can lift her off of her feet for a second, just to make her laugh. Brady grabs you next, as if both of them know that Matthew wants to be last. Brady wiggles you side to side, planting a kiss on the top of your head. You headbutt his shoulder, then kiss the same spot you’d hit. He says how much he’ll miss you, something he always reiterates for a few days before he leaves. You return the sentiment honestly, earnestly. When he pulls back, you punch his chest lightly, and he returns the gesture.
Matthew steps up and opens his arms, and you step into them easily. He doesn’t squeeze too hard, just holds you close, hand cupping the back of your neck, calming your anxiety and dulling the sharp edge of your pain.
“Gonna miss you so much, sweet girl,” he whispers into your hair, just loud enough for you to hear. You try to swallow the lump that has suddenly formed in your throat.
“Miss you already,” you reply, a little uneven, a little raw, “Can’t wait to see you again.” He places a kiss on your head as Brady had, but his lips linger, hesitant to let go. But he does let go.
They all wave as they drive off, Brady, Emma, Matthew, and Taryn all crammed into the back seat. You wave back, watching the car go, staring down the street even after the car turns and disappears.
Time to work, you suppose.
July, 2023
Art has never frustrated you so much in your life.
When you were young, the struggle and annoyance came from trying to get things just right, though they were above your skill level. As a teenager, it was due to the struggle of developing your own unique style. In college, it was not having the energy to paint most days, falling asleep at the easel others.
For the past month, the art has been flowing. You’ve been painting most every day, the ideas coming easily, creating almost a compulsion that you can’t resist. It’s only satisfied when the painting is complete. There are a couple dozen or so canvases scattered around your apartment to dry, the most you’ve ever produced in a single month. But the frustration– the frustration comes from the fact that all of your ideas are about him. All of your paintings are moments with him, things he’d said, how you’d felt, how you’d hoped he felt.
There’s a feeling inside of you, as if you’re right on the edge of catharsis, as if you paint just one more thing, you’ll be able to let it all go. That’s your motivation for everything you’ve been making, just desperately searching for the release that will save you from the pain. At this point, you’re not sure it will ever come.
You’re working on a bigger canvas, the biggest you’ve used in years. You’re glad your current job allowed you to move into a bigger apartment, because you surely wouldn’t have been able to fit something like this in your old shoebox, packed so full of your things that you’d barely had space for an 11x14. You have to stand to reach the upper portion, swiping a brighter red over the dark red base. You don’t want it to be about him. It is anyway.
The show at the gallery is rapidly approaching, only a month away. You’ve been working with the curator to decide which pieces to use, filing through years of work. So far, everything that she’s found compelling has been about him. Things you’ve made recently, things you made years ago when things were still good. One day, you’ll get over this. But not today. Today still just hurts.
June, 2021
With neither of the boys making the playoffs, they’d come home earlier than usual this year. Sadly, Brady is pretty used to it by now, usually coming home around this time anyway. You’re used to getting a few weeks with Brady and Emma before Matthew comes home, but you don’t have that this year.
While Brady sulks for about two days when he gets home, Matthew is far more upset. The Flames had made the playoffs for the last couple years, and he was getting used to being a contender. So not even getting a chance at it this year clearly stung. He moped around for a week or two, face tight and arms crossed over his chest most of the time. The only time he let his arms down, let his guard down, is when the two of you were alone.
You’d comforted him through the couple weeks of upset, even staying the night a few times. It wasn’t intentional, you’d just stayed so late that you fell asleep, and Matthew didn’t have the heart to wake you. You have to get up early to get home for work, so you’d snuck your way out of the house before anyone else had woken. You’re not sure how Keith and Chantal would have felt about you staying the night in Matthew’s bed, but you know what they would have thought was going on, and you didn’t want to put yourself or Matthew in that position.
Once he’d relaxed, taken a deep breath and accepted defeat, he went back to being his regular happy, seemingly aloof self. You’re grateful for it, not a fan of seeing him upset and always wanting to help him through and cheer him up.
June had come kindly, bringing along more sun and nicer weather. You and Matthew had resumed your walks in the park, and the whole group of you spend about as much time outside as you do in the den. Things with Matthew had picked up where they left off in January, him pulling you into a secluded area any time he could get you alone, kissing you senseless. You’d missed the feeling of his lips, of his body pressed to yours.
Tonight is one of the more rare nights where Matthew comes to your apartment, instead of you going to his parents’ house. You’ve offered to make dinner and follow it up with movies. You’re already on the couch, your dirty dishes abandoned on the coffee table. You’re laying on your side, Matthew spooned up against your back, your knees hanging off of the couch with the way they’re bent to accommodate Matthew’s too-long legs. You’re warm and comfortable, enjoying the feeling of safety that he brings, something you’ve very rarely felt in your life before.
The movie is good, but you’ve found that being in Matthew’s arms makes you sleepy, so you’re having a hard time focusing. You manage to mostly follow it, letting out a jaw-cracking yawn when the credits start to roll.
You feel Matthew place a kiss on the back of your neck without comment. Then he’s moving you, rearranging your bodies carefully until you’re on your back, Matthew staring down at you from his position straddling your thigh. The way he’s looking at you is intense, somehow simultaneously fond and hungry. It wakes you up almost instantly, and you reach out to rest your hands on his thighs.
“You’re so beautiful,” he says quietly, reverently. It’s not the first time he’s said it, but it feels different now. Maybe it’s the position you’re in, maybe the way he’s looking down at you as if he wants you, as if he–
He takes your hands in his own, bending down as he brings them up to cradle his cheeks. You run your thumbs across his high cheekbones, tilt his head up a little by the jaw as his eyes slide shut. You press your fingers into the soft spot behind his jaw, under his ears, pull him down, down, down.
Kissing him feels as easy as breathing. Guiding his head this way and that to get a better angle, pressing your lips together over and over, longer each time, deeper. Matthew has one hand on the arm of the couch to hold himself up, the other wrapped loosely around your wrist. He’s not trying to move you or take control, just holding on as if he needs something to ground him. You press your thumbs into the hollows of his cheeks, feeling the solid wall of his teeth under the skin. His mouth drops open and he lets out a soft sound. You press your thumbs in harder, between the new gap between his upper and lower teeth, testing how far you can push from the outside.
He squeezes your wrist once and you release the pressure. His mouth stays open, lips wet and shining. He opens his eyes halfway, as if his eyelids are too heavy to get all the way up, eyes hazy and unfocused.
Again, he squeezes your wrist. He’s suddenly standing, using his grip to guide you up as well. He immediately crowds up against you, as if being more than an inch away will kill him. His eyes have managed to refocus, but there’s still a dreamy look in them.
He takes a step backward, using the hand that had instinctively gone to the back of your neck to bring you with him. He kisses you, lingering. He takes another step back, gives you another kiss. He rounds the end of the couch and you realize where he’s leading you, kind of impressed that he can find his way to the bedroom without even looking.
Of course, your heart is a frantic mouse scurrying around your chest, thumping hard like you’re a prey animal facing down a predator. But as much as it freaks out in the cage of your chest, there’s no panic in your head. Being with Matthew calms your mind, keeps your hands from trembling, feels so right that you can’t find a reason for the anxiety that used to plague you around him.
He stops you halfway between the door and the bed, pulling back a couple inches to stare down at you. You’re hesitant to put a name to the look on his face, not sure if reverent is being dramatic.
You flatten your palms against the front of his shoulders, shoving him gently, bullying him toward the bed. He allows it for a moment, but stops after a few steps. He takes your hands in his own, brings them to his mouth to kiss your knuckles. You try to swallow down the desire that grows inside of you, threatening to spill out. He holds your hands close to his face, enough that you can feel his lips move when he speaks.
“You don’t have to be in control, sweet girl,” he says, lays another kiss on the bump of your right middle finger, looks deep into your eyes with such adoration you feel ready to split at the seams.
“Let me take care of you,” he says. The part of you that’s spent your entire life with a fist clenched desperately around any sense of control that it could find, for the first time, relinquishes its hold. And Matthew does, indeed, take care of you.
February, 2022
It’s your first time in Vegas, and the atmosphere is electric. There are hockey fans everywhere, plenty of people wearing jerseys as they explore the strip. Everything is so big, so bright, so fancy. As exciting as it is to be here, it makes you feel a little off, a little like you don’t belong. It reminds you of the first time you’d been to the Tkachuks’ house, amazed at how different everything is from the way you grew up.
Each player was supposed to be allotted two tickets, but they had allowed Brady to take additional tickets for his family, considering Matthew is his brother, in addition to how well-known and beloved Keith is. He’d managed to get Emma included as well, luckily.
You weren’t sure how he did it, but Brady had gotten another player to give one of his tickets so that you could come. Apparently the guy’s family couldn’t make the trip, and he only had one friend that he really wanted to bring. He won’t tell you who it was, but the way that Timo Meier winks at you as he passes the stands gives you an idea. You weren’t aware that the two talked, but there’s always the possibility that he had just gone around and asked everyone. The idea makes something bloom in your chest, as if you could love Brady more than you already do. You’ll have to find a way to thank Timo some time.
The skills competitions are fun, though Brady doesn’t win anything. It’s nice to see the players relaxing and having fun, a well-deserved break from the stress of the season.
You all go out to an early meal before the games the next day. You don’t realize until you arrive that Jack Hughes and his family were joining you, and you trip over your own feet when you see them waiting for you. You’re a huge fan of Jack’s, but more than that, Ellen Weinberg-Hughes is an icon. You stumble with your words when you greet her, shaking her hand and screaming silently in your head. With how the boys are looking at you as you do so, they obviously anticipated your reaction and are incredibly satisfied with themselves.
For the meal, you’re sat between Matthew and Jack. You’re grateful that Matthew is next to you, needing his calming presence as you meet some of your favorite players. The families are friendly with each other, the parents catching up on the news of each others’ lives, the children doing the same in separate conversations.
You spend most of the dinner talking to Jack, Quinn, and Matthew. They tell you all sorts of things, including embarrassing stories about Matthew that you weren’t privy to. You grin at Matthew every time they share one, absolutely intending to tease him about it later. This seems to be what the Hughes boys want, eager to give you more ammunition. Matthew buries his face in his hands at one particularly humiliating story, even as he shakes gently with quiet laughter. When he emerges and sits back up, you take a chance, placing your hand on his thigh. You squeeze once, trying to reassure him. He does his best to not react, but he also rests his hand on top of yours under the table.
“So you’re a painter, right?” Quinn asks at one point, curiosity evident in his perpetually sleepy eyes.
“Yeah,” you confirm, asking “How did you know?” You’d told them about your official job, but you hadn’t mentioned being a traditional artist in addition to a graphic designer. Jack turns a smug smile on you.
“Matthew talks about you a lot,” he says, pleased with himself. You look to Matthew just in time to see his face flush.
“Shut up,” he says to Jack, which only makes him smile wider. Jack’s attitude rubs off on you a little, and you give Matthew a delighted smile.
“How much is a lot?” you ask Jack, feeling Matthew dig his fingertips into your knuckles.
“Like, a lot,” Jack replies, Quinn nodding from his other side. You look back to Matthew, who looks like he wants to crawl under the table and hide.
“I talk about him a lot, too,” you say. That makes Matthew look at you again, bright eyes nearly sparkling in the restaurant’s dim lighting. His expression shifts, a small, grateful smile scrunching his eyes up the slightest bit.
After dinner, you all make your way to the arena. Brady and Jack left a while before the rest of you, needing to arrive in time to get dressed and likely do some more media. Before he’d left, Jack had requested your phone, creating a contact for himself and inputting his number. As he dud, you turned your face away, toward Matthew, opening your mouth wide as if you’re screaming. He looked amused at it, but there’s a sharp edge there. Quinn took the phone next, doing the same thing. You squeezed Matthew’s thigh again, and his expression softened. You’ve been following the Hughes brothers since they were in Juniors, and having them like you enough to want to keep in touch– you can only describe the feeling as elation.
The lines are out the door at the arena, and a few people catch the boys to request photos before you can get to the special entrance for players’ guests. They’re all very kind and courteous about it, taking a few pictures with people, finding a way to move through the crowd even as they do so. You probably should have come a different way, or maybe gotten there earlier, but as long as the boys don’t mind, you don’t either.
The seats are good, the second row of the first balcony. It seems to be the section that they put all of the family and friends, people milling around and chatting with each other. You spot Johnny’s parents a couple rows away, the only people around that you’ve met before. You wave to them and they return the gesture. They make their way down to your seats, greeting each of you in turn. They start chatting with Keith and Chantal, so you continue talking to Taryn and Emma.
The games are great, surprisingly fast. The Atlantic division plays a great game again Central, despite losing by 3. You still can’t help being proud of Brady. You’ve been next to him since his first season, and you’ve loved getting to watch him grow and improve. As long as he’s in the world, you’re going to be proud of him.
The final is awesome too, and you jump up to cheer when Jack scores in the first. When the Metropolitan wins, you high-five Taryn, glad that Jack could win when Brady couldn’t. Not a bad consolation prize.
The group hangs around for a while after, and you get to meet a bunch of new people. Everyone is so nice, making you feel welcome, feel like you belong. When you finally start up the stairs to leave, Johnny’s mom Jane stops you for a second. She pinches your jersey and gives you a sly smile.
“Just a family friend?” she asks, not a question but a suggestion. A few years back, Matthew had given you one of his jerseys to wear to a game, and you’ve worn it tonight, despite him not playing. You realize now how it could be interpreted, ducking your head for a second to smile at the floor, before looking back up to Jane.
“Just a family friend,” you say, firm and definitive. She holds your gaze for a moment, looks behind her at Matthew, who’s waiting patiently a few steps up. He’s looking at you, that soft look he gives you sometimes. After a second, he smiles brightly at Jane. She waves and turns back to you.
“We’ll see,” she says. She pats your shoulder twice before making her own way up the stairs with Guy. Once you process the statement, you shake your head and make your way up to Matthew.
“What was that?” he asks as you enter the corridor. There’s no way you can tell him the truth, and honestly, you’re not sure what the fuck that was either. You just shrug at him, continuing your way out of the arena.
The comment sticks with you, no matter how you try to brush it off. Johnny is Matthew’s best friend, and you’ve met Jane a few times before. If it had been a stranger, you would’ve dismissed it outright. But to hear it from someone who actually knows the two of you? That’s harder to let go.
July, 2023
Laurel, the curator for the gallery hosting your show, is a lovely woman. She’s also very, very good at her job. You’ve been to countless shows at this gallery, and they’re always perfectly compiled, excellently arranged. You’ve brought her your most recent paintings today, which makes you glad that you have a car, because hauling them through the city would be a nightmare.
The only problem you have with Laurel is that she seems to see straight through you. You’re not used to someone looking past the professional figure you present, let alone someone seeing every part of you that you put into your art.
She’s staring at your offerings, examining every last detail. She’s already chosen about half of the pieces that will be displayed, creating a theme with your relatively impressionist style. She moves one canvas to the side, away from the others. She takes an extra few minutes to consider one of them, the largest one. It just finished drying yesterday. Having to see it every day as you passed it in the living room has been torture.
“Everything except that one,” she says, gesturing to the one she’d set aside. If she wants all of these, that’s likely going to be everything for the show. With everything else she’s chosen, this is all they have the wall space for, considering the way that you’ve seen Laurel arrange the art in previous shows you’d attended.
“That one is the centerpiece,” she adds, hand against her cheek as she continues staring at the large canvas. You swallow hard. Of course. Of course every painting she likes is about him. Of course the centerpiece will be him. No matter what you do, you’ll never escape him.
She asks a bit about your inspiration and motivation for the piece, and you give her vague answers that sound more philosophical than the real thing. The two of you discuss some of the minutiae of the show, trying to get everything finalized ahead of time. There’s less than a month left, and your excitement is starting to pair itself with dread.
When you get home, you go straight to your bedroom and throw yourself face first onto your mattress. You bury your face in a pillow, finally letting out the scream that’s been stuck in your throat since you learned of Tessa’s existence. It helps.
You make and have dinner, barely aware of what you’re eating. At least you can eat without getting nauseous now. You don’t feel like watching TV, probably wouldn’t be able to pay attention to a real show right now. Instead, you sit on your bed, leaning back against the headboard. You scroll social media mindlessly for a while, the ghost of Matthew next to you, his invisible arm pressed against yours.
February, 2022
Despite your better judgment, the first time you and Matthew had slept together wasn’t the last, either. It had continued through last summer, then again when he’d come to play the Blues. Now you’re in Calgary, in Matthew’s apartment for the first time, in his bed again.
A lot of people idolize the first time they sleep with someone, comparing every subsequent time to the first and often coming out disappointed. You had no reason to do so, because the sex only got better over time. As you and Matthew learned each other’s bodies, figured out what got the best reactions, the sex kept improving. Even if you wanted to fall back on your morals and resist him out of respect for Brady, you know you couldn’t stay away for long. It’s irresistible.
And it’s not just the sex. It’s the way he holds you after, lays on his back so that you can rest your head on his chest. It’s the way his breath ruffles your hair as you fall asleep together. It’s the things he says to you.
It’s the nights like this.
You’re in Matthew’s bedroom, the dark dead of night offering only the moon to light the room. Your head is on Matthew’s chest, his arm around you to keep you close, as if you would ever willingly leave. Your breathing had returned to normal a while ago, your body cooling off and beginning to recover from the rush of feeling. Matthew kisses the top of your head every so often, and you return the sentiment by tilting your head to lay kisses against his sternum.
“I wish I could keep you here forever,” he says, so hushed that you almost miss it. He’s always so quiet when he talks like this, as if he’s afraid to say it. He says these kinds of things anyway, but never above a whisper, not willing to share the vulnerability with anyone but you. Again, you press your lips into his skin.
“I wish I could stay here forever,” you reply. It would be nice, wouldn’t it? To stay here, with him. No need to be quiet so as not to wake his family, no having to sneak out in the morning, no work to keep you away. Just laying here, together.
“I’ve never wanted anyone the way I want you,” he says. There’s desire in his voice, of course, but also earnesty, like he really means it. Part of you would like to believe that he does, but another part knows how important it is to not get caught up in the fantasy. It’s easier said than done.
“Not any of the other girls you’ve had?” you ask. You’d meant for it to come out teasing, but your honest curiosity wins out. Then there’s a hand on your chin, fingers gently guiding your head up until you’re looking Matthew in the eye. It’s not exactly comfortable to crane your neck like this, so you prop yourself up on one forearm, resting the other hand where your head had been as you stare down at him.
“Never,” he replies, insistent. He looks so serious, sounds so sincere. You don’t say anything, can’t think of anything. There’s something in the wide roundness of his eyes that speaks to you, pulls you in, encourages you to search deeper. It takes a second to figure out what it is that’s hiding in there, but… it’s fear.
“I never want this with anyone else,” he says, tangling his fingers with yours over his racing heart. There’s a question you want to ask, something you’ve been wanting to ask for a while, but the fear in him has mirrored itself within you. You should just shut up, keep it to yourself. The words come out before you can convince yourself to stay quiet.
“What is this?” you ask. You’re not sure what answer you’re expecting, but you know which one you’re hoping for. He takes a deep breath, exhales slowly. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and for the first time, you don’t divert your gaze to admire the sheen of them, unable to look away from his eyes.
“I don’t know,” he says, pauses, presses your entwined hands harder to his chest, “But I never want to give it up.”
May, 2022
Again, Matthew is the second to come home. Brady returned almost a month before in April, the Senators not in the playoffs, as usual. You feel bad sometimes, because Brady is genuinely a great player, but his team has just struggled to gel together. Even through all of their trials, Brady insists on keeping hope. He loves his teammates, and that’s what really matters to him.
Matthew, on the other hand, isn’t so great at dealing with failure. The Flames make it to the second round, which is an achievement all on its own. But after winning Game 1, they’d lost four in a row and been knocked out. It feels to Matthew almost like they got swept, he explains over the phone after the final loss.
When he gets home, he once again spends a week sulking. You mimic what you’d done last year, though staying the night is intentional this time. So long as you sneak out before anyone wakes up, you’ll be fine.
On the eighth day, you tell Matthew for the hundredth time how proud of him you are. He shoots you a bittersweet smile and says that he’s proud of himself too, and you know he’s bouncing back. It doesn’t help that he’s been debating for months whether to re-sign with the Flames, an agonizing choice for him. He loves his boys, but he’s not sure he belongs there anymore. You’ve assured him that you’ll support him no matter what decision he makes. Johnny hits free agency next month, and if he moves, you’re not sure that Matthew will have the motivation to stay.
The next couple of weeks go by the same way that they always do, with you spending as much time with the Tkachuks as possible. At least, you think you’re doing a good job of acting like everything is the same as years past. No one knows about you and Matthew, and it seems like he wants to keep it that way. You like having this little secret life with him, getting to have him all to yourself. You’re okay with the way it is, you convince yourself.
June came quickly, having begun only four days after he’d returned. The weather improves, you and Matthew once again resume your walks in the park. You play yard games and watch trash TV with Brady and Emma. You help Chantal cook dinners, help Keith clean up afterward. Everything is back to the summer standard.
The day had been nice, sunny and warm. The light had turned the leaves of the trees golden during your walk this afternoon. The sun is long gone now. Nighttime has become your favorite part of the day, the only time you get to indulge in whatever it is that you and Matthew have. The only time you get to touch his skin, to hear the low sounds he can’t help but make, to feel his warmth against you, inside you.
It’s been some time since you’d finished, but you can’t quite fall asleep. Matthew is spooned up against your back, face buried in the nape of your neck. You’re not sure if he’s asleep or not, too distracted to bother trying to figure it out. You’ve been thinking about it since your visit to Calgary. Any time Matthew called, or texted, or even crossed your mind, you thought of it. It made your heart leap into your throat, your breath catching as you choked on it.
He doesn’t know what you’re doing together, what you are. He didn’t give the response you’d been hoping for, but he didn’t outright deny it either. Sometimes you think it would have been better if he had, if he’d said that it was just sex. Then you could start working on moving on. You wouldn’t have to lie awake at night, wondering.
“What’s wrong?” he asks, his groggy voice making you startle and snapping you out of your head. You take a deep breath, debating yourself for a couple seconds before you decide.
“Nothing,” you reply, patting his forearm where it’s snaked around your waist, “Go back to sleep.” He takes a quick, deep breath, the air rushing out over your skin. You’re helpless to resist when he starts moving you. If you did put up a fight, push back against his hands, you know he would stop. But you’re tired.
“What’s wrong?” he asks again once you’re flipped to face him. He looks tired too, the exhaustion of the season still lingering. The moonlight paints his face in silver. It makes his skin shine, almost glowing in the darkness.
“I’m afraid,” you say. You wish he hadn’t turned you around. It would be easier to speak it into the wall than it is to say to his face. You say it anyway, watching his brow furrow, admiring the way the silver light adds contrast to the wrinkles the expression creates.
“Of what?” he asks. You could make something up. Telling him that you’re afraid of monsters under the bed would be less embarrassing. You’ve never been very good at lying to him.
“The day you move on,” you whisper, invisible pressure on your throat making the words come out tight and unsteady. The surprise on his face surprises you in return. He’d refused to put words or labels to whatever this is, of course you would think that he’s going to leave eventually. You’d have to be an idiot to think that he means it when he says forever.
“I won’t,” he says, resolute. You can only manage a half-smile for him.
“You’re not the first man to say that,” you reply. He reaches up and cradles your cheek in his wide palm, warmth seeping into your skin.
“But I’m the first one to mean it,” he says. You close your eyes. They begin to prickle at the corners, but you refuse to cry about any of this. He’s so adamant, so steadfast in his insistence. You try to remind yourself of what this isn’t, what it will never be, but you’ve never trusted someone the way you trust him, and you can’t help believing him anyway.
August, 2023
You hadn’t anticipated this happening, let alone how hard it would be, but finally, finally it’s a little bit easier.
You’re not over Matthew, not by a long shot. It’s going to take months, years. It may never happen, who knows? As long as you can cope with it, can keep your friends around, that’s all that matters.
The first half of the day was spent with both boys and their girls. You didn’t have to curl up so tightly on your chair, didn’t have to force words out so they didn’t think anything was wrong. Conversation was relatively easy, topics changing and flowing naturally. You’d smiled, laughed, and a couple of times you actually meant it.
Matthew had apparently planned a date for Tessa and himself, so they excuse themselves in the late afternoon. Brady, Emma, and you stick around the den for a bit, continuing to talk. Eventually, Emma stands, stretching dramatically.
“Let’s go for a walk,” she suggests. You’ve spent too much time lately sitting at an easel or curled up in bed, and a walk sounds like a great idea.
You expect it this time when Brady takes the three of you to the same park. It’s easier when you’re not blindsided by it, and you have the lovely memory of the last time you were here with the two to focus on, instead of Matthew. You walk for a while, music playing softly from Emma’s phone, tucked in her back pocket. Once you’re deep into the wooded area of the park, she stops dead in her tracks. You follow suit, spinning around to shoot her an inquisitive look. She takes the two steps forward to close the space between you two, grabbing you by the shoulders and walking you backward. You stumble, trying to look behind yourself to keep from falling. She pushes until the backs of your knees hit a bench on the side of the pathway and you fall onto it. You gape up at her, befuddled by the behavior and the way her arms are crossed over her chest.
“What’s going on,” she demands, not a question. You furrow your brow, at a loss for words. You know what she’s talking about, and you know that she knows that you know. But why would she wait until the day that it starts to fade, the day that you can finally think of something else, to ask you about it?
“C’mon, Y/N,” Brady says, plopping down on the bench next to you, “We know something’s wrong.” You had accepted the possibility of this back in June, but you weren’t expecting it to take almost three months for it to happen.
Your first instinct is that you absolutely can’t tell them. You’ve been keeping this secret for years, and if Matthew has his way, you’ll keep it forever. If Matthew gets his way, you repeat in your head. That’s it, isn’t it? All this time, you’ve been so focused on what Matthew wants that you ignored your own wanting. What do you want?
You want to tell someone, to finally have this horrid pain out in the open instead of keeping it caged up around your heart. You want your best friend and his wife to hug you. You want them to understand.
“Matthew,” the name tumbles out, and you don’t want to stop it. Brady and Emma are still looking at you, waiting for anything you want to tell them. God, Brady is your goddamn best friend and you’d convinced yourself that you couldn’t tell him something? That there was anything on this earth that he would shun you for?
It all comes spilling out in a rush. Everything from the first time you’d met him. Hell, some information that isn’t strictly necessary, but they don’t interrupt you or complain, so you venture on. It takes long enough to recount that Emma sits on the metal armrest of the bench. Brady’s holding one of your hands in his lap, Emma taking the other to do the same.
You’d promised yourself more than once that you wouldn’t cry about this, but you don’t really care enough to stop yourself now. The tears come two-thirds of the way through, falling silently as you recount some of the things Matthew had told you, the things he’d promised you. You’re not outright sobbing, so you manage to power through the rest of the story. Your eyes are squeezed tightly shut by the end, like closing them will block out the memories.
It takes a couple of minutes for the tears to stop. The three of you let the silence hang as you wait for it, nothing but the leaves rustling in the trees, something scurrying in the bushes. When you can safely open your eyes to face the world again, you look over to Brady. He looks devastated.
You watch his evolving emotions morph the expression on his face, from heartbreak to anger and back again. The anger makes your heart skip a beat, suddenly afraid that maybe the whole “I slept with your brother” thing will be a problem after all.
“Do you want me to kick his ass?” he asks, startling a laugh out of you. You know he’s dead serious, too. Part of you thinks it might be cathartic to see Matthew get beat up by his little brother, but your soft heart doesn’t want anything bad to happen to him. After everything he’s done to you, you still don’t want him to have to feel even a fraction of the pain you do.
February, 2023
This year, the boys don’t have to bribe anyone else to get you to the All Star Game. Each of them is allotted two tickets as per usual, but Taryn is too busy with school to come. She’d aimed a satisfied smirk at Matthew through the camera of her phone, saying guess you’ll have to take that one along as her eyes darted slightly to the left, clearly looking at where you were on the screen.
Since your work is remote, you’ve brought along your laptop. You spend the morning of the skills competition working, still averse to using your PTO if it’s not completely necessary. The boys have to do media, so there’s no one around to bother or distract you. You kind of wish there were.
The special skills competitions are as fun this year as they were last. You especially love Sidney Crosby in the dunk tank, seemingly having the time of his life. You may not know him personally, only having met him once in passing, but after everything he’s been through, you think he deserves some carefree fun.
The sun has set by time you emerge from the arena after the regular skills competitions. The days are shorter at this time of year, even in Florida. It is warmer than St. Louis, though, which you’re grateful for.
Jack is in the competition again this year, so you meet up with the Weinberg-Hugheses again that night. You’ve gotten much closer with Jack and Quinn over the past year, building relationships on texts and calls and dinners when they play the Blues. Luke has tagged along this time, and you get on with him just as well as his brothers.
Matthew shoots Jack a look when he slings an arm around you on the way back to your hotels after dinner, but Jack just grins at him. You’re still not sure what that’s all about, but you’re just going to stay out of it.
The games the next day are fantastic. You’ve never gotten to watch both of your boys win at once, and you love it. When the Atlantic wins the whole thing, you cheer so loudly your voice cracks. Emma laughs at you, but you just laugh along with her.
You stick around for a bit after the game again, Keith and Chantal mingling while Emma shows you the decorations she’s planning for the wedding on her phone. After a while, someone taps you on the shoulder from behind. You turn your head, immediately recognizing Jane. Johnny had made it again this year with his new team, so it would make sense that she’s here too. You stand, reaching up to hug her in her elevated position.
“Matthew got you a new jersey?” she asks, referencing the All-Star jersey you’ve got on. You wish you could say that you bought it for yourself, but it had indeed been a gift from Matthew. It shouldn’t be embarrassing, so you act like it’s not, even though it is.
“Yeah, he’s a great friend,” you reply, shrugging, “He likes to take care of me.” The thing about Jane is that she’s not really a jerk. Sometimes the you-and-Matthew comments bother you, but she’s generally a very sweet woman.
“It’s good to have someone like that,” she says, smiling gently at you, “Matthew is a good boy.” Jane had been at enough Flames games for you to know her, and definitely enough for Matthew to become a pseudo-son to her. They don’t interact much anymore, save for when she pops up in the back of Johnny’s facetimes, but you know she still has a soft spot for him. You don’t blame her.
“He really is,” you agree, nodding. The two of you make some small talk, and you get some updates on Johnny’s new life on the Blue Jackets. You give her some updates on Matthew in return. After a bit, Guy shuffles up next to Jane, telling her that it’s time to go. She acknowledges him quickly, turning back to take one of your hands in her own.
“I know he takes care of you,” she says, patting the back of your hand with her second, “But you take care of that boy, too. Okay?” You just nod, smiling and bidding her goodbye. Her and Guy retreat up the steps and out of view. You’re not sure why she feels the need to say these things to you, and you’re not sure why you take them to heart.
You meet Matthew and Brady outside the player entrance, the boys immediately scooping up you and Emma, respectively. Matthew sweeps you off of your feet for a moment, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. Once you’re free, you start to dip forward, realizing what you’re doing at the last second and changing track to make sure the kiss lands on his cheek.
He beams at you, and you’re absolutely certain that you’ll spend the rest of your life trying to make him smile.
April, 2023
The day Brady comes home is the best day of the year, you remind yourself for the thousandth time. You’re excited to see him, you are. The way your chest has felt rent open for days isn’t his fault in any way. You’re not going to make him pay for being the messenger.
Once you all get the couple home, you go upstairs with Brady and Emma to help them unpack. They don’t really need help, obviously, but it’s an excuse to spend time together. Brady talks a little about the season, but mostly focuses on his plans for the summer. He talks about wanting to go see G, maybe even take a trip out to visit Tim.
For the most part, you just fold clothes and listen. Eventually, they switch to the topic of the wedding, Emma showing you even more pictures. She’d asked you to be a bridesmaid forever ago, so you’ve already seen most of it, had even helped her pick half of it out, but you’re never going to squash her excitement.
Exhausted from their travel, the two make their way down to the den after everything is put away, collapsing onto the couch. You curl up in your chair, allowing the couple to choose what you watch. They pick something or another, nothing that you can pay attention to right now. Instead, you find yourself examining Brady, picking apart his features, finding all the things he shares with Matthew.
It’s the best day of the year, you remind yourself again. The light of the TV highlights Brady’s jawbone and your skin crawls.
August, 2023
The show is going exceptionally well, exceeding your expectations. The space is filled with strangers, friends, and even your brother and his family. There are critics and collectors, some that you’ve seen at other people’s shows, some that you don’t recognize. Everyone wants to talk to you, and you don’t get a spare moment to breathe for the first few hours.
When you do get a chance to exhale, the rich couple that had been occupying you finally walking away, you catch the color out of the corner of your eye. You’ve been all around the building all night, mingling and networking in equal measure. You hadn’t realized where you ended up until right this second. You turn to the piece, staring as if you’d never seen it before.
You don’t need to look over to see who steps up next to you a minute later.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” Matthew says. It doesn’t feel like an accusation, though it is one. All you can do is sigh.
“What did you expect me to do?” you ask, not expecting an answer. You glance at his hands out of the corner of your eye, noticing the wine glass in one hand, water glass in the other. Without a word, Matthew holds the water out in your direction, still fixated on the painting. You take it, feeling odd that not only does Matthew know that you forget to drink enough water, but also that he’s still trying to take care of you.
“It’s me,” he says after a pause. You’re both facing the largest canvas, the centerpiece. Swirls of bright red spread across a crimson background, highlighted with orange, accented with a royal purple. There, in the center, are two comparatively small, even circles of icy blue.
“They’re all you. Or about you, at least,” you say, seeing no need to deny it any longer, “About us.” It’s obvious that Matthew hadn’t expected you to admit it outright, thrown off for a minute by the admission.
“Can we talk?” he asks as you take a sip of water.
“We’re talking right now,” you reply, feeling petty. It’s his turn to sigh. He sets his wine glass down on the nearest horizontal surface before returning to your side, facing you this time.
“Somewhere private,” he clarifies, pauses, “Please.” You may be mad at him, enraged, incensed, but you’ve never been able to deny him anything, and you still can’t, even now.
You shut the storage room door behind you, flicking on the light to chase away the darkness. Matthew has his hands shoved in his pockets, looking around as if there’s anything interesting in here. You cross your arms over your chest, waiting for him to nut up and look you in the face.
“Listen,” he begins, rubbing the back of his neck but still not looking at you, “I know I should have gone about this better.” You snort. No shit. The sound finally brings Matthew’s gaze to meet your own.
“I’m sorry, okay?” Matthew says, motioning with his raised hand, “I didn’t think you’d care that much.” You can feel how incredulous your expression is, and you don’t even try to hide it.
“In what world would I not be upset?” you respond, “After everything?” You can hear yourself, know you sound like a bitter, jealous old ex, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You see his Adam’s apple bob as he swallows and looks away again. When he looks back, there’s an almost pleading look in his eyes.
“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” he says, more sincerely than the first time, “You shouldn’t have had to find out from Brady.” You avert your gaze, working your jaw for a second before you raise your chin and square your shoulders.
“No,” you agree, “I shouldn’t have.”
“I’m sorry I stopped talking to you,” he says, motioning helplessly with his hands, “You have to know how hard that was.” You shake your head, almost disgusted.
“Imagine how hard it was for me,” you reply. Your fingertips are digging into your own arm, fingernails biting into the skin. The fact that he would stand here and imply that this was a struggle for him– as if he expects you to offer sympathy– makes your stomach churn. The guilt in his expression makes you sickly satisfied.
“Listen,” he leads with that word again, as if he has any right to ask it of you, “I didn’t want to upset her. You know how some girls are.” You do know. And it’s still not an excuse.
“You didn’t tell her about me,” you say, anger and hurt straining your voice, “You said that I was just Brady’s best friend. You didn’t even tell her what we had.” You want to scream it at him, just want to scream in general. Maybe if you did, if you released your tight grip on control in a different way than you had with him, maybe it would make him understand.
“What did we have?” he asks. His voice is quiet, just as yours had been when you’d brought up the topic all those months ago.
“I don’t know,” you say, turning his own words back on him. It’s true, anyway. You’ve never known what any of this was. You’d only known what you wanted it to be, what you stupidly, fruitlessly hoped for.
“We never dated,” he replies, voice still low but seemingly not bothered by the uncertainty, “We never called it a relationship. You were never my girlfriend.” It’s a simple fact. It tears your heart out of your chest.
“Just because we didn’t name it doesn’t mean it was nothing,” you insist, squeezing your eyes shut for a second to push down the urge to cry before admitting, “I stopped dating.” He looks even guiltier at that, but it doesn’t soothe anything in you.
“I didn’t look at another man,” you continue, embarrassed and ashamed but unable to let him continue through life without knowing, “I didn’t even want to look at anyone else.” The shame makes the fiery anger burn brighter.
“I gave you three years of my fucking life,” you say, voice raising just enough to make Matthew flinch. You keep it reigned in enough that no one outside will hear, not interested in sharing this conversation with anyone else, especially not potential business contacts. The flames engulf your chest, lick up at your throat, threaten to consume you.
“I never asked you to do that,” Matthew replies, solemn. Your jaw drops, just half an inch, enough to part your lips as your breath hitches. He never asked. He never fucking–
“You–” you begin, breath catching in your throat as your eyes burn with tears you refuse to let escape, “Everything you said, everything you did, and you expected what? For me to just move on?” Your nails are digging so deeply into your biceps that you’re surprised they haven’t drawn blood. Matthew doesn’t respond right away, and you can’t tamp down the impulse to be petty.
“But I guess that’s what you did, huh?” you jab. Matthew shuts his eyes tightly, fists clenching like he wants to fight. It should be threatening, but you’ve always known that he would never dream of laying a finger on you in violence. But then again, you’d thought you knew a lot of things about him.
“Why do you care?” he asks, shoulders tense as he opens his eyes to stare you down, “You don’t even want me.” That shocks a laugh out of you, so completely ridiculous that you can’t help it.
“That’s the most fucked up part– I do want you,” you respond, simultaneously an answer and an admission. His brow furrows as he continues looking at you, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Did you seriously think I didn’t?” you ask, more of a demand, slightly offended because, “Do you think I said all those things for fun? For shits and giggles?” You can’t read his expression, don’t even bother trying. He can feel whatever he wants. That’s not your concern anymore. All you care about is the cold spreading through you, crawling up from the tips of your fingers, freezing your arms, creeping into your chest and beginning to extinguish your rage.
“I loved you, dickhead,” you continue, the words spilling out of you starting to sound pathetic, no matter how hard you’re trying to hold on to the anger, putting the last grasp of it into the words, “Stupid fucking idiot asshole, I loved you.” Matthew gapes at you, hands going lax at his sides. His jaw moves as if to say something, but nothing comes out.
“I loved you and you threw me away like garbage, and didn’t even have the balls to tell me yourself,” you force the sentence out, feeling like you’re choking on every syllable. Matthew’s breathing stutters. You’re expecting annoyance, irritation, maybe even shame or guilt. You’re not expecting his wide eyes, his eyebrows turned up in the middle, his slack jaw.
“You loved me?” he finally asks after a few agonizingly long seconds of silence. There’s something in his voice that you tell yourself you don’t care to analyze.
“Of course I did. How could I not?” you say, huffing as you look upwards, needing a momentary break from this staring contest, “The pathetic part, the part that makes me hate myself, is that I still do.” It’s physically painful to say, no matter that the hurt is psychosomatic. You’ve spent the last few minutes breaking open your ribcage, one bone at a time, revealing to him the space you’d made for him inside of yourself.
“You love me?” he asks, so dumbfounded that he’s repeating himself.
“Yes, Matthew,” you say, facing up to the dread inside of you, the one fact you’ve been struggling with the most since you’d found out the news.
“And I’m terrified. Because I’ve always loved you,” you pour out, barely able to hold yourself together as you meet his eyes, “And I’m afraid that I always will.” There’s not even space for half of a breath before Matthew speaks.
“Please do,” he says. His hands are open, palms facing your direction, as if pleading.
“What?” you ask.
“I didn’t know,” he says, and apparently he’s decided it’s his turn to reveal himself, “I was surprised that you wanted anything to do with me at all. But then you kissed me, and I spent the next three years waiting for you to leave.” The confusion comes over you so quickly that it almost masks the hurt.
“Why would I leave?” you ask. There’s been nothing subtle about your feelings. You’ve told him that he’s the only one you want, that you want to spend the rest of your life by his side, that he’ll always be the only one. How could he hear all of that and think that you would ever leave?
“Because you’re smart and kind and funny and hardworking–” he starts listing off.
“Tessa is all of those things too,” you cut him off. It doesn’t come out as resentful as you would’ve expected a sentence like that to. As you’ve told Terri, you really have nothing against Tessa. Besides, she really is everything he’s saying.
“But she’s not you,” his response comes immediately, emphatically, “I don’t want just anyone like that; I want you, and you happen to be that way.” You’re stunned into silence.
“It’s not the traits, it’s you,” he says, insistent, like he’s trying to convince you of your own worth, “And I kept waiting for you to find someone else, someone who wasn’t hotheaded and self-centered and–” He stops himself, swallowing so hard you can see his throat stutter under the thin skin of his neck.
“Someone better,” he finishes. The thing is that Matthew doesn’t have low self-esteem. He knows he’s a catch, and yet… And yet, he’s standing here, admitting that he’d still thought of you as being so far above him that you could never want him. And it’s not that there isn’t probably someone out there better than him–
“I never wanted someone better,” you tell him, voice almost a whisper. Growing up, you’d created this picture of the perfect man, told yourself that you’d find him one day, would never settle for less. Then you’d met Matthew, and he was nothing like that imaginary ideal. He was flawed; he was real. And you couldn’t help but love him for it.
“And I never wanted anyone else,” he replies, his own voice hushed to match yours, but no less certain, “I still don’t.” Three months ago, you would’ve given anything to hear that. But things are different now.
“I thought that if I went and found someone like you, someone close enough, that I could fall for them too,” he confesses, shame making his face tense, “I thought that if I stopped talking to you, if I kept my distance, that I could get over you.” A fraction of the anger buds in your chest at the idea.
“So you’re using Tessa,” you accuse, instantly offended on her behalf.
“No!” Matthew denies emphatically, pauses, shakes his head, “Yes. Maybe. I don’t know.” If he is using her, at least he seems ashamed about it. Something in his posture makes you think he isn’t, that he really thought he could love her.
“Look, she’s great. She’s amazing. She’s too good for me, too,” his shoulders have been hunched up to his ears, but they fall now, defeated, “She talks about that spark she felt when we met, the way she feels about me now, and I want, I really want to feel that way too. It would be easier if I could.” Believing this entire time that he truly loves her has been hell for you, but it’s still somehow worse to know that he doesn’t. That he did all of this, hurt you so deeply, for someone he doesn’t even love.
“As much as I’ve tried, I don’t. And I can’t,” he says, turning his gaze to the floor, “And if I’d ever thought that I had the slightest chance with you, I never would have dated her to begin with.” All these years, all those words, all the touches you’ve shared, and he’d still never taken you seriously. It’s not your fault, you know. But you realize now that for every time you’d indirectly confessed your feelings to him, he’d said the same things back. He’d returned every sentiment readily, easily. And as much as he’d apparently had the same idea as you, that the other could never love you back, you hadn’t seen it either. You’ve been just as ignorant of his feelings as he was of yours, just as deep in denial. And now there’s this rift between you, a deep chasm that keeps you apart, all for no reason.
“So, what now?” you ask. There’s nothing else to ask.
“What?” he seems genuinely confused.
“What now?” you repeat, too tired to be upset anymore, “You break her heart? Or do you keep pretending? Fake your way into a wife and kids and a house in the suburbs?” His confusion persists, tongue darting out to wet his lip the way it always does when he’s anxious.
“I thought–” he shakes his head the tiniest bit, as if he can’t believe what’s happening, “I mean, I love you. I want to be with you.” There’s a sadness sitting heavy in your chest, only getting deeper at his words.
“I love you too,” you say, tipping your head an inch to the right, perfectly aware of how melancholy your smile must be, “But you hurt me, and now you have to hurt her too. I thought you were better than this.” You’d thought the world of him. You don’t hate him now, could never force yourself to. But you are disappointed in how everything has played out.
“I thought you didn’t want better?” he says, not really a question. Your lips turn up another centimeter at that.
“Listen,” you say, turning the word back on him. You inhale deeply, exhale slowly. He stays quiet.
“The opportunity of a lifetime is on the other side of that door,” you gesture vaguely over your shoulder, then let your arms relax, your hands fall to your sides, “I don’t know what to do with any of–” you give another vague gesture, “--This.” The devastation is writ clear on his face, telegraphed by his posture, bared in the forefront of his miserably beautiful eyes.
“Out there?” you say, smile still in place, “I know exactly what I want. So I’m going to go get it.” you pause, take another deep breath, “And maybe you’ll be there tomorrow, and maybe you won’t.”
“I will,” he jumps in. You huff an almost-laugh.
“We can figure this all out later,” you say, sure a definite, “For now, I have to focus on the things that I’m sure of.” He nods, looks at the floor, raises his head and looks back at you.
“Did you used to be sure of me?” he asks, an uneven, shaky whisper.
“Yeah,” you say, your entire being feeling so heavy that you can barely hold yourself upright, “I used to be.”
September, 2023
While Brady had departed yesterday, Matthew doesn’t leave until tomorrow. It took some internal debate, but you’ve decided not to go along to drop him off at the airport. His family will think it’s weird if he doesn’t hug you, and you’re not sure if you can handle him touching you yet.
You’re curled up on the couch with a book, letting yourself get lost in the story. A knock comes on the door and you startle. You mark your page and stand, rounding the couch to open the door. When you do, Matthew is standing there.
“Hey,” he greets, giving you the same bittersweet smile you’ve become accustomed to over the past few weeks. You’d given him a key to your apartment right after you’d moved, but you appreciate him not using it right now. You welcome him in with a gesture of your hand, turning to lead the way. You get four steps away before he speaks.
“I broke up with Tessa,” he blurts out. He doesn’t seem happy about it, but he doesn’t seem particularly sad either.
“Why?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest, “You’re that sure that I’ll take you back?” The anger comes and goes as it pleases, and it’s starting to sneak through the space between your ribs.
“No,” Matthew says, looking so unbearably fond of you, “I think you’ll tell me to get fucked.” Some days you want to.
“Then why did you break up with her?” you ask. Part of you has been wondering if, despite everything he’d said, he would stay with her. You’re not sure you would have been able to keep the conversation to yourself if he had, but you would have at least tried.
“Because none of this is fair to her,” he answers, shrugging, “She deserves someone who feels the same way about her that she does them. Someone who’s obsessed with her. She doesn’t deserve to be settled for.” You examine his expression, his stance, and realize that he’s truly being honest. He genuinely wants the best for her.
“How’d she take it?” you can’t help but ask. It makes him grin down at the floor for a moment.
“Honestly?” he asks when he raises his head, “Not great. Could have been worse, though.” As much as you love Matthew, you would have been proud of Tessa if she had slapped him.
“Probably should’ve been worse,” you reply. He grins again, tilting his head as he admires your face.
“Probably,” he agrees. For long moments, you both stand still, eyes locked.
“What now?” you ask, the same question as a couple weeks ago. He shrugs again, but he doesn’t seem as miserable or desperate as he had at the gallery.
“I don’t know,” he replies, that same phrase that you’re still trying to make peace with, “I know what I want. Same thing I’ve wanted this entire time. So I guess it’s up to you.” After three years of him encouraging you to give up control, to let go and follow his lead, he’s handing you the reigns now. However this ends or continues is completely your decision.
“You leave tomorrow,” you say, though you’re both viscerally aware of the fact.
“Yeah,” he gives you the crooked smile that had captured you the first time you’d met, “Don’t suppose you want to come with me? The winter weather’s nicer in Florida.” You let out a breathy chuckle, shaking your head at him.
“If you’d asked me that last summer, I probably would’ve said yes,” you admit. You kind of expect him to react with sadness, but you prefer the hope that blooms on his face.
“Maybe I’ll ask you again next summer?” he suggests, offering you the option. At this point, you have no idea where your relationship will be at this time next year. You don’t know if you’ll even have a relationship, of any kind. But if he’s willing to try, so are you.
“Yeah,” you nod, smiling wider than you have in a long while, “Next summer.”
June, 2024
The Hughes brothers are a funny trio. Seeing Jack’s upbeat, outgoing energy bookended on each side by two reserved, perpetually exhausted brothers is always kind of funny. You’d run down the pavement from the Tkachuk’s door to the driveway when you’d seen Quinn climb out of the car’s driver seat, immediately sweeping him up in a hug. The boys had decided to road trip around this summer, so of course you’d strongly suggested that they visit you.
You help them haul their bags out of the trunk, taking Luke’s backpack in hand and insisting on carrying it in for him. The three of them had started teasing you the instant they saw that Matthew hadn’t come out with you.
“Come on, I heard him at the All Star game,” Jack pesters, voice taking a mocking edge as he croons, “Sweet girl.” You laugh brightly, stopping the careful steps you’re taking backwards up the pathway to the house.
“We weren’t dating, I swear,” you insist. Plenty of people over the years have accused you of dating Matthew, but at least he’s funny about it. He stops in front of you, lifting his chin and giving a shit-eating smile.
“Wait, weren’t?” he asks, “As in, past tense?” You feel heat begin to crawl up your face. You’d intended to tell them, of course, but not the second they got here.
“Yeah,” Matthew calls from behind you, and you twist around to watch him close the space between you, “Past tense.” Jack’s glee is overt, but you can see the little signs of happiness on the other two boys’ faces too. Matthew lines himself up against your back, wrapping his arms around you, the gaudy Cup ring on his finger glinting in the light.
“Hey, sweet girl,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss into your hair. You can’t see him, but Jack’s smug face makes you sure that Matthew is staring straight at him. “My sweet girl,” Matthew says. It might be the best thing you’ve ever heard.
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starlazergazer · 1 year
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Senators Shadow
Pairing: Anakin x Reader
Summary: Anakin is your regular Jedi guard whenever your job in the senate brings you to Coruscant which wouldn’t be a problem if he didn’t spend the entire time practically ignoring you making It clear he didn’t really want to be there. Until something changes on this trip and the two of you start to become close.
Warnings: Swearing, some jealous Anakin, scene where the readers being shot at from a crowd, that should be it
Word Count: 10K (may have gotten a bit carried away with this one but I hope its worth it!)
A/N: I’m a sucker for an enemies to lovers type thing plus a jealous Anakin moment so I wrote this to amuse myself (cause what’s the point of being a writer if you can’t write a fic for yourself once in a while?) Easily the longest one I’ve written so I hope you enjoy!!
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You never really liked having to be on Coruscant. Things moved too fast here, you were always rushing from one meeting to another, prepping for speeches, consulting others, it often felt like you never got a chance to breathe only making you long for the minute you could leave and go back home.
And the longer you had to stare into Anakin’s eyes, the more you felt that longing grow.
“I appreciate the concern Jedi Skywalker” you addressed the man before you formally, interlacing your fingers and setting them on your desk, pushing forth an air of professionalism and authority “but I do not need a jedi guard for the time that I’m here”
A hint of a smirk graced his lips at your words, however, nothing more than its ghost ever appeared, a twitch in the corners of his lips. Often you wondered if you simply read too much into his expressions. “and I’m afraid your excellency that both the senate and the jedi council disagree”
There was no denying that Anakin was incredibly good looking, even if you tried to ignore that as much as possible, this simple fact was enough to have the people within the capital constantly whispering about him. Beyond this, however, he also had the reputation of being devilishly charming. You never got the chance to know that side of Anakin.
Sometimes you see glimpses of that version of him, you certainly did when you first met him as he introduced himself with a boyish grin and a look that had your cheeks stained scarlet, but since that first encounter it has been nothing but this stoic, aloof jedi that was now before you. And some stupid part of you wondered if it had been something you said that first night that pushed him away.
“Alright this is, however, my person we are talking about” you argued back, fighting down your own annoyance at his persistence “I get final say in what happens to it and that includes whether or not I have someone guarding it”
His answer was quick and to the point, as it always was “that is not how this works”
And oh how you loathed his complete lack of emotion, here you were out on a limb trying to reason with him, trying to compromise, trying to get something, anything out of him and still he responded as if you were little more than a talking brick wall.
“Then tell me Jedi Skywalker” You tried to take a deep breath, tried to calm yourself down, unable to keep the bite completely out of your words “how does this work?”
He leaned back in his chair causally, crossing his ankle over his knee, exuding confidence as he stated simply “either you let me act as your guard or you don’t make the speech next week”
You raised an eyebrow back at him, your voice dropping to a dangerous level “excuse me?”
“the jedi council has it on good authority there is going to be an attempt on your life so the senate is not going to let you on the floor unless they have reason to believe you aren’t going to die upon it” he explained indifferently, as if you were the one being ridiculous here.
“Wouldn’t resources be better spent actually looking for the person threatening my life then?” you pointed out with a sigh, posture slumping over slightly as you spoke, resigning yourself to the shadow being forced upon you for the next week.
“Oh we do have people on that” he assured you “just not me”
“No you’re on guard duty” you rolled your eyes at him.
“I’m on guard duty” he echoed back and you tried to ignore how hollow the words came from him, it would seem he was as happy about this assignment as you were.
And you wished you had a biting remark back for that, not fully ready admit just why his words bothered you so much, but you didn’t, instead you were left staring at Anakin in the chair before you, him doing the same as a brief silence fell over the two of you before a knock at the door broke it, one of your aide’s, head popping through the doorway.
“I have Jace here to see you senator”
You felt the smile grown naturally on your face at the news, unaware that your best friend and quite possibly the only person who could make this week better was even on Coruscant.
“Thank you please send him in” you nodded at her, eyes flicking back down to Anakin’s form, smile slowly dropping from your face as your gaze met his small glare “are we done here jedi?”
“It would appear so” he nodded stiffly, pushing himself up to a standing position, his mouth open, ready to say something when a new voice cut him off.
“Y/N Y/L/N it has been far too long”
A giggle escaped past your lips as Jace slipped into the room with wide arms, you not hesitating to meet him halfway across the room, more than happy to be caught up in his bone crushing hug as a greeting.
“Jace how could you not tell me you were going to be here” you chastised him with a small hit of his arm once he set you down, the grin never once leaving your face, you weren’t sure you could admit to even him how badly you needed someone on your side this week.
“Thought I’d surprise you” he shrugged with a wink and you were so excited to see him you almost missed the other voice as it spoke up from across the room.
“Senator”
Your head whipped around to meet Anakin’s gaze, a raised brow silently asking your question for you.
“I’ll be outside the room”
You didn’t have time to give any response before he was ducking out the door, finally leaving you and Jace alone.
“You have a babysitter” Jace mused with a smirk on his lips as he made his way to the bar cart in the corner, making the two of you a drink without being asked as you slumped down into one of the chairs before your desk.
“I have a babysitter” you groaned. The words, now that they were in the open, cementing themselves in reality “and it just had to be Anakin fucking Skywalker”
Jace snorted as he brought the drinks over, wordlessly handing you one as he sat in the chair next to you “of course it’s Anakin Skywalker, it’s always Anakin”
You furrowed your brow at him, taking a sip of your drink “it is not always Anakin, last time I had Master Obi-wan”
“Because Anakin was on a mission in Crait for nearly a month at that time” Jace pointed out with a smirk making you frown.
“I’m sorry you just know Anakin’s schedule at all times?”
“I knew about it last time because like I said you always get Anakin as security” he chuckled shaking his head at you as if it were obvious.
“I do not” you insisted still, mind racing as you thought back to the last time you had been assigned a jedi that wasn’t Anakin “Just last year I had Master Kuno”
“mmmm when you made that speech denouncing the banking clan” Jace hummed softly as he thought “I believe Anakin was on medical leave then”
You shook your head at your friend, sipping your drink “you do acknowledge that it’s weird that you know that right? It’s important to me that you know that”
Jace chuckled at that shaking his head softly at you “and it’s weird that you’ve never noticed that Anakin, if he is available, is always your guard”
“Alright so the jedi order decided to assign their young padawan to guard the young senator” you thought as you talked, more or less making up your own rationalizations on the spot “pair the two people who are up and coming in their respective careers”
Jace didn’t even bother to refute that, sending you no more than an unimpressed expression with a raised brow. You realized with a sigh you already knew exactly where he was going with this as he opened his mouth to speak.
“no” you held up your finger, interrupting him “don’t even try”
“Y/N it’s obvious” he sighed nearly making you choke on your drink.
“Obvious? Really Jace, obvious?” you nearly laughed “I can’t even get the guy to talk to me for longer than like two minutes”
Jace just shrugged at that, as if it made no difference “He’s a jedi, they’re weird maybe he’s nervous or something”
At that you did laugh, not liking how bitter it sounded out in the open “you’ve seen how he talks to every other woman in the capitol he’s definitely not nervous”
At that Jace froze, a single eyebrow raising as he nearly gaped at you “I haven’t, but I’m very interested to learn that you’ve noticed this”
You groaned inwardly, feeling your cheeks heat up on the spot “that is not the point I’m trying to make”
“It’s the point now” Jace cut you off with a wicked grin “Y/N Y/L/N is there something you want to get off your chest”
“I will have him come in here and throw you out” you threatened, unable to keep the small smile off your face as you did so.
“Hey if you wanted time alone with him all you had to do was say so” Jace held his hands up defensively, smirking down at you.
You nearly threw your drink at him.
-
You would think after all of these trips to Coruscant you would learn to pack properly. That, however, would make things just too easy.
You were prepared for meeting rooms, for the senate floor, for your bedroom. You had professional clothing, comfy clothing, pajamas, you were prepared for anything within the capital building that could take place.
What you were not prepared for was a walk to Dex’s diner.
You were supposed to meet a senator at the diner, the man absolutely insisting on dinner while you were meeting, and you could never really say no to eating at Dex’s.
But you could see Anakin’s look of confusion at your outfit choice as you immerged from your room, the man giving you a simple raised brow but still you refused to give into the embarrassment of admitting to your mistake.
“Is that what you’re wearing?” there was no malice in his question but still you felt your cheeks burning at its asking, looking back down over yourself, pretending to not notice that the clothing was much too light for the cold weather outside.
“Yeah why? Is there something wrong with it?”
“Uh no you look” and Anakin paused here, his eyes scanning your form briefly in a way that had you squirming slightly on the spot, his eyes finally making their way back up to your own, Anakin’s voice much softer than before “you look good Y/N”
And if you had thought you had blushed hard before.... Your gaze was quickly thrown to your shoes, a desperate attempt to hide the blush as you mumbled out a thanks before clearing your throat awkwardly, nodding slightly to the door, Anakin nodding back and stepping aside, letting you exit first.
Keeping your head held high you whisked past him, only regretting your situation as soon as the crisp air hit your mostly bare arms.
Warm clothing, how could you forget any and all forms of warm clothing.
You tried to hide your slight shiver, wrapping your arms around yourself to conserve body heat, rubbing a hand up and down your bicep.
“Where’s your coat?” the voice beside you startled you, all too used to walking in complete silence with Anakin, to nearly tuning the man out completely.
“I forgot to pack it” you shrugged, almost wishing you had something more to say, something to keep the conversation going.
Instead the familiar silence fell back over the two of you as you walked, your mind already starting to tune the jedi out once again when you felt something being draped over your shoulders.
In surprise you froze, Anakin following suit as he came to a stop in front of you, hands still on the ends of his robe that now hung around your shoulders, holding it carefully around you. Slipping your arms into the sleeves you held them up to your eyes taking a moment to admire the simple brown robe, how surprisingly soft it was, the way it smelled like Anakin.
“Am I even allowed to wear this?”
“It’s just a robe” Anakin shrugged, already trying to push past the gesture “besides breaking a rule like that is worth you not freezing”
“but it’s a special jedi robe” you protested “am I going to get special jedi powers now?”
And god help you you saw the corners of his mouth twitch up at that, a laugh that came out as more of a cough following shortly that had your heart skipping a beat in your chest “that’s not how that works. Now come on” he tried to usher you forward but you stopped him.
“Hold on what about you” you asked “aren’t you cold”
And you weren’t sure if Anakin noticed the small smile that grew on his lips, didn’t notice or didn’t care, either way you were glad to finally see it “no I’m okay, let’s just-“ and he paused out of nowhere, smile slowly dropping from his lips as he looked up into the sky.
Furrowing your brows you started to do the same, pausing only as Anakin started to approach you, hands coming just beside your ears as he reached behind you, your breath catching in your throat at his closeness. Slowly, grabbing the hood on the cloak he pulled it forward, shrouding your head in it just as you started to notice the fat water droplets that began to stain the ground beneath your feet.
“keep your hair dry” he all but whispered, taking just a second longer before retracting his hands and taking a step back, turning on his heel and ushering you forward with a nod in that direction “come on let’s hurry”
And then he took off as if nothing had happened, as if that wasn’t the most emotion you had gotten out of him since you had met, as if he hadn’t just spent the last several seconds standing closer to you than was strictly necessary, as if your heart wasn’t hammering in your chest so hard you could feel it.
-
Too much of your mental space the rest of the day was spent trying to come up with ways to get Anakin to interact with you again. Like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch you felt this desire to talk to him again, to see that hint of a smile grace his lips, to see that small twinkle in his eye as he huffed and shook his head in amusement down at you. Something, anything that could clue you into what was going on inside of that jedi brain of his.
Beyond proposing a trip to the library, however, you had nothing.
A small nod was all you got for your efforts before he fell into place behind you, always a few feet back, hands held behind his back, head held high, not a single word uttered in your direction, a true return to form even after what had occurred earlier.
And a part of you scolded yourself for thinking it would ever be different, that you had let Jace’s words weasel their way under your skin like that, that you ever thought you’d be anything other than a job to him.
So wordlessly you led on, entering the library with him in tow, doing as you always did and completely ignoring your shadow’s existence for the time being, trying to turn your mind to the task at hand.
But why had that never been as hard before as it was now?
Taking a brief trip around the shelves, Anakin in tow close behind, it was a bit before you could find the exact copy you needed, of course on the top shelf well outside of your reach.
You took a tentative look back at Anakin to see his eyes wondering aimlessly around the library not even paying attention. And for a brief moment you debated asking him for help, he’d given his cloak so freely the other day, had yet to even ask for it back, you’d taken to the habit of wearing it around your rooms when cold. It had been a crack in the walls he erected between the two of you so long ago.
But it was just that, a crack. You’ve spent years at this point with whatever small amount of time spent in Anakin’s company more or less ignoring him, used to his curt nods and short answers, it wasn’t quite so simple to get over that.
With a small sigh you walked over to a nearby table and grabbed a chair, pushing it back in front of the shelf, giving it a small test with your hands before stepping one foot up.
Anakin was by your side in an instant, hands out before him, coming up to grab you but remaining just a bit too far away “What are you doing?”
“I need a book on the top shelf” you shrugged, pushing your weight onto the foot on the seat of the chair, Anakin shifting closer as you did so.
“Alright then I’ll get it” he urged, “this thing spins would you just get down”
“I’m already up here I’ll get it” you brushed him off, one hand on the back of the chair to steady yourself as you brought your other foot up, trying to react quickly with every small movement in the base of the chair as it swiveled slightly.
“Senator-“ Anakin tried again, practically begging you to get down.
“I’m like two feet in the air I’ll be fine” your hand left the back of the chair and immediately the thing pivoted slightly beneath you, your legs reacting by crouching slightly so you could keep your balance.
“Y/N” and you felt him grab you by the forearm, a shock surging through your arm at his sudden touch, effectively freezing you in place, your eyes coming back to connect with his for the first time, noting the concern they carried. His other hand reached out, a book flying off the top shelf and coming right into his palm, Anakin not even breaking eye contact as he did it “Look I’ve got it would you please get down”
And for a second it was like you had forgotten how to breathe, you can’t even remember the last time he had looked into your eyes so intently let alone touch you, the simple act had left you absolutely breathless with gorgeous blue eyes bouncing back and forth between your own and for the first time you felt what it was like to truly be the sole object of Anakin’s attention. You could feel yourself practically shrink within it, your knees aching slightly though you were quick to blame that on your attempt to balance on the chair.
“Uh-yeah” you hadn’t realized how long you had remained still and silent beneath his gaze until you broke its spell, forcing your gaze from his down to your shoes, using his hand as an anchor as you carefully stepped down, not missing the sharp hiss of air that left Anakin the minute you had both feet on the ground.
“here” he sighed almost in relief, holding the book out to you, you carefully taking it from his hands as he moved quickly to push the chair back to the table you had stolen it from.
Looking down at the cover you couldn’t help but chuckle slightly, casting your eyes back up to Anakin only to see him already looking at you, a faint smile pulling up at his lips “what?”
“I actually need the one next to this one” you bit the inside of your cheek to contain your own smile as he sighed dramatically, looking back up at the self before easily picking the one you needed off of the top.
“Thank you” you traded books with him, just barely catching the slightly wider smile on his lips as he placed the first back on the shelf. And you decided that you liked that smile, liked being its cause.
Wordlessly he ushered you towards the exit with an extended arm, you nodding sheepishly at him before walking out the doors, Anakin’s footsteps as usual following close behind but this time, to your surprise, he sped up once you got to the hallway, falling into step beside you as opposed to behind.
“So what do you need the book for?” The question startled you, your head whipping around to him on instinct though you tried desperately to restrain your surprise, worried expressing too much of it would scare him off.
“Oh-he’s just one of my favorite writers” you tried to keep your tone as casual as possible, only making you worry it sounded forced, you didn’t like how easily you came to second guessing your every move in the jedi’s presence “I’m hoping I could use some of his style to influence my speech, make it sound a little better”
His brow furrowed at that, his gaze never leaving yours as he spoke “why? I like your style”
You nearly stopped walking, quick blinks coming as you tried to wrap your head around his words, the question slipping out of you before you could think better “you’ve seen me speak before?”
“When I’m free” he shrugged as if it were a given, as if there was nothing better for a jedi to do than listen to a junior senator give a speech.
And for the first time you started to wonder if Jace was right, if there was a reason Anakin always ended up as your guard, if there was more to this tough, distant demeanor than you had previously thought.
“Do you want a drink?” You regretted the offer as soon as it left your lips, easily catching the hesitation on Anakin’s face the minute you asked “I just mean I’m going to be up for a little longer and since you’re stuck keeping me company it’s the least I could do” and he seemed to relax slightly at that only making you tack on more “plus as a thank you for grabbing the book for me”
And there was that small smile again, his features lighting up ever so slightly as it graced his lips, your own mirroring it of their own volition.
“Yeah I’d like that”
-
“You did not!” You exclaimed with a loud laugh, hand coming out instinctively to slap his chest as he grinned back at you, smile hid behind his glass as he raised it up.
“I had no other choice” he defended weakly in a voice that told you he had many.
“That make for three ships you’ve crashed in this story alone” you shook your head with a chuckle “you know someone has to pay for those, namely the people of the republic”
“A small price to pay for peace” he shrugged with a lazy grin, taking a sip of his drink.
“Have you tried this thing, I think they call it landing?” You teased earning a chuckle from the jedi, the sound making your cheeks ache as you tried to contain your grin.
“I’m sorry senator how many ships have you ever flown and landed successfully?” he taunted with a raised brow.
And you could blame it on the alcohol, could blame it on the sleep deprivation, could blame it on the cozy atmosphere in the room. But really it was just Anakin that had you pulling out childhood stories, the way he put you at ease, the strange familiar air of a man who’s spent the last several years practically ignoring you. In all honesty this was the most you had ever gotten from the man in terms of real conversation and you weren’t ready to let that go just yet.
“My father actually taught me to fly as a kid” you offered with a soft smile, watching Anakin’s brows shoot up ever so slightly.
“Really?” he prompted simply, leaving the door open for you to continue if you so choose.
“Yeah” you chuckled softly, casting your eyes down to your drink “he loved the freedom it gave him, the idea that he could go anywhere he wanted at the drop of a hat, could live amongst the stars. I think he wanted to instill that same feeling in me”
“and did he?” he asked with a sentimental smile and briefly you felt like he wasn’t just looking at you but rather watching you as you told your story, something you took a strange comfort in.
“He did” you nodded “he died a few years ago and I associate flying with him so much I feel like I’m working to fall in love with it all over again, just this time alone”
And at your words you watched his smile slowly melt off his face, his eyes casting downward into his own drink, and you prepared yourself for the inevitable. The sympathy, the condolences, the pity, instead Anakin surprised you with a story of his own.
“As a kid I was a pod racer, thought I was significantly better than I actually was ya know” he chuckled softly, eyes glancing up at yours for a brief moment before casting back down “but I knew my mother never really approved, thought it was too dangerous, but she always was my biggest supporter despite everything. I had to leave her years ago for the order and sometimes I wonder if I’m reckless now in some ridiculous bid to be closer to her”
“that’s not ridiculous” you shook your head, Anakin’s eyes coming back up to meet yours “it was a comfort to have your mother care for you in that way, only makes sense that when you miss her you seek that sense of comfort all over again”
And he chuckled softly at that, smiling to himself “I suppose you’re right”
And this time you could definitely blame it on the alcohol, or maybe the slight pink hue you thought you could see in his cheeks, but suddenly you felt yourself forcing your next words to the surface, a desperate need taking over you to have them out in the open. “I know we never really do this but I really like talking to you Anakin”
And for some reason the name felt weird on your mouth this time, felt weird being addressed to him rather than said behind his back, yet still you rather liked it.
A small smile grew on his lips as he looked back at you, eyes bouncing back and forth between your own before he spoke “I like talking to you too Y/N”
And you certainly liked the way your name sounded when he said it like that to you, soft and sweet, less a call to attention and more an affirmation.
His eyes darted to the clock and he sighed softly, leaning forward to set his glass on the edge of your desk “Come on its way past your bedtime”
You chuckled softly at that, shaking your head even as you knew he was right “I’m a senator I don’t have a bedtime”
He laughed back at that, taking your glass from you and setting it onto your desk next to his “and senators need 8 hours of sleep just like the rest of us”
“You expect me to believe you get a full 8 hours of sleep a night” you asked with a raised brow, watching in amusement as he shook his head softly from above you.
“Alright like the rest of us except for jedi knights”
Despite that ridiculous answer you relented, hands coming to the armrests of your chair ready to push yourself up when a hand suddenly entered your field of vision, Anakin’s hand offered simply to you. With a slightly furrowed brow you looked up at him as you took it, standing up with his small aide, coming to a position that had the two of you standing nearly chest to chest and instinctively you felt a small panic rise.
Instead his other hand came to the small of your back as he ushered you forward softly, hand slipping easily from your own as you walked forward out of your office, focused entirely too much on the feeling of his touch as it slowly slipped from your back, on the way he fell into step behind you as usual though this time mere inches away instead of feet.
Too quickly you reached the door to your room, spinning around to face him “this is me” you regretted the statement as soon as it left your mouth, wincing slightly at the sound of your own words which just had him laughing softly.
“Need me to clear it?” he asked in a low tone, his voice barely above a whisper as he inched closer “see if there’s a monster hiding under your bed”
“I think I’ll be okay” you chuckled softly back, scolding yourself for the way your gaze slipped down to his lips, the way your fingers twitched, eager to reach out.
The moment of silence stretched and still you felt yourself drifting closer, felt the friendly atmosphere give way to one of thick tension as the two of you stared back at one another, daring the other to give in and make the first move.
Instead Anakin stepped back, the smile slowly slipping from his lips though never entirely leaving “goodnight Y/N”
And with a sigh you couldn’t entirely contain you nodded softly, leaning against your doorway as you watched him walk back down the hall to his own room, “goodnight Anakin”
-
You dragged yourself from sleep with shallow quick breaths, bolting upright in place, eyes desperately scanning the room for anything that looked familiar.
But of course this was Coruscant and nothing really was.
This wasn’t the first time your sleep has plagued by nightmares, nor the first time you’ve woken up unsure of where you were, of what was going on, of where the threat was coming from.
And logically you knew where you were, in your room, safe, with a jedi guard just next door. So you tried to force yourself to take deep breaths, a hand on your chest as if you could physically push the air into you. And for the most part you had succeeded, your breath slowly but surely returning to normal.
But it didn’t rid you of the initial panic, of the overwhelming sense of dread, of the crushing loneliness of going through this in a room that wasn’t your own.
And for the first time your mind jumped to Anakin, afterall he was just next door.
This past day had been the closest you had ever felt to the jedi, approaching something that resembled friendship as he made an effort for the first time to actually talk to you. And based on that you really didn’t think he would mind, even if it was just him sitting in silence next to you, it was nice just having something there.
But still waking him would be welcoming him to a part of you you weren’t sure you were ready to show him yet. It was a level of vulnerability you weren’t ready to show him yet. Not to mention the man was a jedi, faced death on a near daily basis, was always putting himself in dangers way, what right did you have to go to him with nightmares?
Making up your mind you slipped silently out of your room and made your way to the front door, heading as you usually did to Jace’s apartment.
-
You tried to slip out of the room quietly, more than enough experience at this under your belt to know that you could probably force your way through the front door with a sledge hammer and Jace wouldn’t wake up but still wanting to take precautions nonetheless.
Up on your toes you snuck through the door, pressing the button on the other side to close it, waiting till it fully shut to relax, spinning around to begin the trek back to your rooms, when movement out of the corner of your eye caught you off guard. With a small gasp you stepped back from the mysterious object, nearly stumbling over your own feet, when you realized you recognized the mystery man lurking outside of the door.
“Anakin” you breathed out in relief, hand instinctually coming to your chest in an attempt to slow your racing heart “you scared me”
At first he didn’t say anything, stayed leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, his posture telling you that he couldn’t have been more at ease, but his expression... His jaw was set, clenched hard enough you could see the muscle tensing even from your position, his gaze hard and unflinching as it bore down into you, Anakin was pissed.
“Imagine how I felt when I woke to find your room empty” His tone was cold and biting, as if he were spitting the words at you rather than conversing.
“Alright maybe I should’ve left a note” you conceded “but I figured I’d be back in an hour or two tops, and it’s Jace’s place you’ve met him”
“A note” he scoffed back at you, pushing himself off the wall to come close to you, forcing you to crane your neck in order to make eye contact, refusing to give in and take a step back “What part of this do you not get?”
“What part of what?” you demanded, crossing your own arms over your chest “you found me quite easily what is the harm?”
“What is the-“ he chuckled bitterly as he echoed you under his breath, a hand coming up to pinch the bridge of his nose before he burst “you suck out on me!”
“for like an hour” you protested, rising your voice to match his, not caring at this point who heard you
“That doesn’t matter” he paused briefly between each word, putting emphasis on each as he glared at you “I was tasked with guarding you that means I go where you go, everywhere you go, that means you don’t sneak out on me especially not to just spend the night with some guy” he gestured almost in disgust back at Jace’s door “this isn’t some joke Y/N”
“And I’m not treating it like one” you countered, clenching your jaw as you fought back the urge to push him back “you’ve come with me to everything for the entire time you’ve been my guard, I haven’t left your side, I’m playing by your rules”
“this” he gestured vaguely in your direction, a bitter laugh in the back of his throat “this is not playing by my rules, this is disobeying my orders, and a fucking note is not the correct fix to this situation”
“So I should’ve what? Asked you to escort me to Jace’s room at three in the morning?”
You watched him clench his jaw at that, a harsh glare sent back at you as he silently loomed over you, neither of you saying anything for a few seconds, before a deep breath escaped him, his chest deflating slightly as he grabbed your elbow, pulling you down the hallway “let’s just go back Y/N”
But you weren’t giving up on this so easily, weren’t letting him get away with chastising you in the middle of the hallway like you were a child. You ripped your elbow from his grasp, slowing your pace “I can walk myself”
“Really you sure you won’t get lost?” he condescended with a raised brow, crossing his arms in front of his chest “won’t accidentally end up in some other guys room for ‘just an hour’, I think senator Passel’s in this hall I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about him”
You reacted without thinking, your hand coming up and slapping him across the cheek before you could fully process your action, though even after you couldn’t find yourself to regret it. And you knew that on some level Anakin had to have let it happen, it was nearly impossible to catch the Jedi by surprise. But the wide eyes he gave back to you could have had you fooled. You watched as his own hand came up to his cheek, touching the skin lightly, him mouth dropping open ever so slightly, his anger completely dissipating on the spot.
Yours, however, had yet to do so “You’re mad I disobeyed your ‘orders’ fine I can take that, but you do not get to treat me like this and you do not get to throw that kind of insinuation at me” you seethed back at him, hands clenched by your side so hard you could feel your nails digging into the palms.
“Y/N” and you name came out of his mouth on an exhale, a hand coming up to your elbow with a touch much softer than before, a plea in his eyes as he said it.
But you weren’t sure you could take any more of being in Anakin’s presence tonight. As you took a step back his hand fell easily from your arm and you tried to ignore the tingle on your skin it left in its place, tried to ignore the lump you could feel growing at the base of your throat, tried to ignore his silent plea for you to come back.
“Goodnight Jedi Skywalker” and before you could crumble you turned and walked back towards your rooms, hearing Anakin’s reluctant footsteps fall into place a few feet behind you.
-
You felt strangely energized the next morning at breakfast, shoveling food into your mouth as you jotted down notes and took pleasure in the fact that Anakin had yet to wake. Perhaps Jedi did need a full 8 hours of sleep. Senators, it would turn out, can survive on a fraction of that in combination with pure spite.
Your eyes barely glanced up at the sound of approaching footsteps that halted a few feet in front of your desk, taking no more than a second to note Anakin’s form as he stood before you.
“Y/N” your name came out of his mouth almost hesitantly, still you refused to look up at him just yet, pretending most of your attention was still captured by the document before you.
“Jedi Skywalker”
You heard a small sigh escape him, a hollow chuckle filling the air “back to titles huh”
“what can I do for you jedi?” you asked, interlacing your fingers and setting them before you, pushing your posture straighter as you looked up at him in front of your desk, not letting a single emotion betray you with your expression.
Another sigh and he held up a piece of paper before you “we’ve received our first official death threat against you” and though you knew it had to be coming a part of you expected to be more shook by the news, expected to be more scared, all you felt at this point, however, was tired. Tired of being on Coruscant, tired of your job, tired of dealing with every consequence that came from these threats.
“Ok” You could see Anakin’s expression melt a little at your simple reply, could see the pity and guilt plain on his face, you wanted neither “anything else?”
Anakin nodded slowly, placing the piece of paper on your desk, taking care to step back from you after he had done so “because of it we’re more or less going into lockdown, the only people permitted access to this room are the one’s on this list provided by your security team”
You scoffed slightly as your eyes scanned the list, noticing immediately that one name was missing “Jace isn’t on here”
Anakin’s tone dropped slightly, his hand going into a fist at his side as he repeated “the only people permitted access to this room are the one’s on this list”
You shook your head, a bitter laugh escaping as you threw the paper down onto your desk “you want me confined to my room fine, restrict who I have access to fine, one of those people will, however, be Jace, not only because he is my friend and I trust him but because he is instrumental to getting the work I need done”
And you could see him clench his jaw from across your desk, an angry hand running through his hair before he crossed his arms over his chest, eyes breaking from yours down to the paper before he sighed “fine”
And that put you off guard, if there was one thing you had learned about Anakin throughout your limited interaction it was that the man didn’t back down easily. Giving him a small nod you all but whispered a thank you, casting your eyes back down to your document, a silent dismissal.
The paper was wordlessly picked up from your desk before he started to leave, a new voice filling the silence left in his wake.
“Y/N I just heard-“ Jace’s voice was cut off suddenly, your eyes coming up from the document to see him in the doorway, held in place with a simple hand on his chest by Anakin, the jedi’s other hand resting on the hilt of his lightsaber as he glared down the man.
“he’s fine” you called out simply, eyes casting back down to the document without a second thought.
But you didn’t hear any change, Jace hadn’t started talking again, there had been no footsteps as he entered the room. Looking back up you saw the two men in the exact same position, glaring daggers into one another, each daring the other to make the first move.
“Jedi Skywalker he’s okay to come in” you instructed Anakin again, watching as the grip on his saber only tightened if anything.
“Anakin”
His gaze snapped to yours at the sound of his name, his expression softening ever so slightly as it did, his grip dropping from the saber.
“he’s okay”
And reluctantly he nodded, hand dropping from Jace’s chest as he righted himself, before his gaze snaped back to Jace, his next words coming out almost as a threat as he spoke them more to your friend than you “I’ll be just outside the door”
-
You’d be lying if you said you had forgotten about the other night, in fact you had done just about everything you could to do so, but despite your best efforts his insinuation still rang loudly in your head, his angry gaze as he spit the words at you still living in your minds eye, the fury that sparked in your chest then had yet to dwindle with time.
You tried to tell yourself that it didn’t really matter, so what if you were seeing Jace like that you were both single there would be no harm done. But another part of you hated the idea of Anakin thinking that, the same stupid, selfish, naive part of you that clung onto his every word and laugh that night.
But you had a job to do, a job that had pulled you halfway across a galaxy away from home to try and convince a small group of relevant senators that your position was correct and morally righteous which would be no small feat. That was exactly why you couldn’t have your attention pulled away from the matter at hand by some guy, least of all some guy as emotionally stunted as Anakin Skywalker.
“Y/N” you ignored the small plea from that very man, pointedly keeping your gaze on your notes as you paced back and forth from behind the stage.
Anakin sighed softly, an anxious hand running through his hair before he tried again “Y/N please I’m sorry I didn’t-“
“No” you cut him off simply, refusing to give him your attention, your anger, your anything. You had a job to do and he was being an active hinderance to that and you were not going to treat him as anything but that “I don’t want to hear it right now”
He nodded softly at that, gaze casting down to his shoes “yeah we can talk after your speech”
You scoffed at that, shaking your head before countering under your breath “or you can go back to ignoring me, I much preferred that”
Anakin furrowed his brow at that, taking a step closer to you “what do you-“
“Senator” one of your aides interrupted you with a smile, nodding her head towards the shut curtain before you “they’re ready for you”
“Thank you” you smiled back at her, squaring your shoulders and facing the curtain separating you from the stage, pointedly ignoring Anakin’s intense stare down at you.
Another soft sigh before he whispered “I’ll be off to the right side in case anything happens” and he was reaching for the curtain before you could respond, most likely knowing that you wouldn’t, holding it open for you to duck under slightly and be met by the bright lights and polite applause you were used to.
You smiled widely at the crowd as you walked up to the podium, setting your stack of notes on top of it and waving, giving them a practiced small nod and a polite “thank you senators”
Slowly the applause dwindled and you were faced with a silent room, milking the sound for just a moment before beginning “I want to thank you all for making time in your busy schedules-“ and you launched into the usual political fluff that began most speeches, stroking the senators egos before you got into the real meat of the issue.
You didn’t make it far, however, before you felt a sudden tug at your elbow, the force strong enough that you were pulled back from the microphone a few steps, a confused murmur making its way through the crowd before you.
Spinning around you followed the hand upon your elbow up to the jedi who owned it, only to see that he wasn’t staring down at you but rather up at the point where the walls met the ceiling, his eyes searching for something that was surely drowned out by the stage lights.
“What’s going on?” you asked him pulling your arm back into you, Anakin’s fingers not putting up a fight against it as he kept his gaze up, searching.
“we need to go” the words were spoken softly and with little weight only confusing you further.
“Anakin what-“ he cut you off before you could even get the question out, crashing his body into yours as he tackled you to the floor, arms wrapping around you to break your fall as he ducked the two of behind your podium. And you were ready to ask him again what was happening when you noticed it, a new burn mark on the wall just behind where your head had been moments ago.
It was only then that you realized the world had fallen silent on your ears, your mind tuning out the panicked yells and scraping of chairs as the people you had just been addressing scrambled for the exit.
Then there was a blaster sound.
The podium before you shook as it took the brunt of the shot, the furniture groaning telling you it wasn’t going to be able to take much more.
With wide eyes your gaze finally connected with Anakin’s to find his already on you, your name on his lips though you don’t remember hearing it.
“What?” You asked much too softly for the sound level in the room, a small look of relief still edging into Anakin’s eyes as he looked at you.
“There’s a door behind you to your left, I’ll cover you you make a break for it on the count of three” he instructed loudly but still calmly, the small panic in his eyes doing a fantastic job of never making its way to his voice. You nodded quickly at him, eyes darting over your shoulder to take a quick look at the door. His hand came up and squeezed your shoulder softly, pulling your gaze back to his “stay low okay. 1..2..3 go”
There wasn’t a moments hesitation before you broke for the door, no drop of doubt in Anakin’s promise to cover you before you left the safe haven of the podium, throwing yourself at the door to force it open and pushing it back closed behind Anakin the second he was through.
He never let up, however, not wasting any time before he grabbed you by the hand and pulled you off the door and down the hallway, you never fully being able to escape the panicked screams from that room.
“The others in there” you protested weakly, letting Anakin pull you further and further away from the room.
“Not important right now” he answered harshly, taking seemingly random turns down a labyrinth of hallways.
And your mind was spinning too much to protest any further, still struggling to bridge the gaps of the last few minutes and comprehend what had happened “did you see them?”
“No” Anakin grumbled “but I think the shot came from the vent system”
“So they could be anywhere by now”
Anakin didn’t respond to that, dragging you a few more feet forward before coming to an abrupt halt before a door you didn’t recognize, eyes checking both ways down the hall before throwing it open and ushering you inside, shutting the door behind the two of you.
It was jarring how silent it was within the room, the way the entire world seemed to suddenly stop spinning, finally giving you the chance to catch your breath, your mind reeling in such a way that made you wonder if you even really wanted the silence.
“Okay” Anakin spoke up, hand coming back to your shoulder, thumb hooked softly under your chin to physically pull your gaze to his as he hunched over slightly “you stay in here I’ll go-“
“What-“ the question came out before he could even finish his statement, your head shaking rapidly as you took a step back from him “you’re leaving me in here?”
“Just for a bit I need to track down-“
“No I can’t-” you interrupted him again, the same panic as before surging within you as you shook your head again, an anxious hand bunching up in your hair as you started to shift your weight from foot to foot “you can’t just- you can’t leave me here alone”
“Hey hey” and you could see his attempt to calm you down as he reached out, could see the fight behind his eyes between staying with you and finding the guy who shot at you, his hands resting on both of your shoulders halting your nervous movement “you’ll be safe in here but I need to track down-“
“Please” you interrupted him again, your single world making his argument die on his lips, his expression freezing slightly at the sound of it “Please Ani don’t leave me”
And you watched his chest deflate, a small nod before he answered “okay”
Before you could think better of it you surged forward, wrapping your arms around his torso, burying your face into his chest. Again there was a moment of hesitation, a brief hiccup before his arms wrapped around you in response, and you heard him mumble against your hair “I’ve got you, it’s going to be okay”
And at that words you let a shaky breath out, feeling the weight on your chest decrease slightly at the promise, nodding softly against him before slowly letting go, untangling your arms from him “Thank you”
His eyes bounced back and forth between your own for a second before he nodded softly, taring his gaze from you as he stood up straighter, taking a good look around the room “We’ll just wait here for a bit, the rest of the order is going to be working on tracking the shooter down”
You nodded back at him again, taking a few steps aside to rest against the wall, finally fully feeling yourself relax as a comfortable silence fell between the two of you.
“I really am sorry for what I said the other night” the sudden voice breaking the silence caught you by surprise, your brows furrowing as you looked up at him “I was angry and I took it out unfairly on you and for that I’m sorry”
“Is now really the time to be doing this?” you asked with an edge of frustration to your voice, trying to hide it behind a soft laugh.
“You’ve been refusing to talk to me, now’s the first time I’ve really had your attention” he shrugged as if it were the obvious conclusion.
“yeah well try dealing with that for about three years then you’re allowed to complain about feeling ignored to me” you grumbled crossing your arms over your chest, unsure if you had really wanted him to hear those words or not.
His brows furrowed as he looked down at you, genuine curiosity on his voice as he asked “what does that mean?”
And a part of you wanted to scoff, as if he hadn’t noticed how he’d treated you for the entirety of knowing him “This trip is the most I’ve ever talked to you” you huffed, pointedly avoiding eye contact with him “When I first met you you were nice and talkative and normal, and all of a sudden the next time I’m around you’re nothing but cold and distant, could get barely more than two words out of you at a time. Made me wonder what I had done wrong”
You heard his deep sigh at your words, eyes glancing up at his form to see his gaze planted on his shoes, a soft reply coming in a voice you almost couldn’t hear “you didn’t do anything wrong”
Another silence passed between the two of you before you broke it, unsure exactly why you felt the need to justify yourself to him “I get nightmares sometimes, nothing too bad but sometimes it’s like I forget where I am and I can’t breathe and I just need someone there to anchor me, to remind me that I’m okay. Jace has been that person for me a lot so when I woke up I sought him out, I really didn’t think about how I was sneaking out behind your back”
Another sigh came from across the room before you heard a back sliding against the wall, eyes casting up to see Anakin had moved to sitting on the ground, back resting against the wall, eyes planted somewhere across the room before he laughed almost hollowly “I’m an idiot aren’t I”
And you couldn’t help but chuckle at that, moving to sit down next to him, careful to keep a good amount of distance between the two of you as you did so “I mean I certainly won’t argue with you on that point”
And this time his chuckle was realer, a warm sound you felt yourself despite everything drawn into “you know you could’ve come to me”
“If the roles were reversed” you asked him with a soft, sad smile “would you have come to me?”
And he sighed at that, gaze breaking to study your face for a moment, before he shook his head “no I suppose I wouldn’t have”
Another silence fell between the two of you, this one considerably less uncomfortable than the ones before, and for a brief moment you wondered where exactly this left you and Anakin, certainly closer than before but friends? Is that what you wanted? Is just that what you could be okay with?
“The jedi have a code” Anakin’s voice pulled your attention smoothly back to him, finding him a few inches closer than before, you weren’t sure who it was that had shifted “we can’t form attachments”
And you found yourself focusing on how hard the words seemed to be for him to say, how he was practically pulling them out of himself, you eagerly latching onto each one, nodding softly.
“So when I met you and you were incredibly nice and funny and easy to talk to…” he let the end of his sentence hang in the air, let the implication remain unsaid “Obi-wan noticed it before I did, was over my shoulder reminding me of the code right away and I figured if I remained distant then I wouldn’t be tempted to break it”
You felt the air leave your chest realizing that hearing it form Jace was one thing but from Anakin himself was completely different, the last few years spent around him clicking into place in your mind and you felt the need to reach out to him, if not to just hold his hand in yours. “Then why are you my guard every time I need one on Coruscant” you asked instead, forcing the distance back, giving Anakin what he wanted, what he said he wanted “Wouldn’t it have been better to avoid me entirely?”
A bitter laugh came forth at that, Anakin throwing his head back against the wall as he stared up at the ceiling “yeah, yeah it would have.” He paused briefly, a small smile pulling up at the edges of his lips “do you know how excited I get every time I hear you’re going to be on Coruscant? I tell myself every time that I just want to make sure you’re safe, that I want to be able to see for myself that no harm comes to you, but I know they’re all just excuses. Because even if it’s in complete silence I relish every moment spent in your presence”
And a huge part of you felt relief at his words. Relief that your feelings were reciprocated, relief that he didn’t actually hate you as you suspected, relief that it was all finally out in the open. But still there was a new weight on your chest, the burden of the jedi code no longer resting on Anakin’s shoulder’s alone, a burden that as not a jedi it felt unfair for you to carry.
“Where does that leave us now?” you asked quietly, eyes bouncing back and forth between his hopefully.
“The jedi order have their faults” he started after a bit, gaze skipping around the room, everywhere but meeting yours “there’s a few things I just don’t agree with them on and one of them is that having attachments makes me a worse jedi, I’m starting to wonder if remaining at a distance from you is really worth it, after this past week I’m not sure I can do it anymore”
“what if I don’t want you to remain at a distance?” you asked softly, watching almost with amusement as Anakin’s gaze rushed to meet your own, his eyes searching yours with hope for sincerity.
Finally his lips turned up at your words, he gaze flicking down to your lips for a moment, inching himself closer still till your shoulder grazed his “Darling if that’s the case then I shall live to make you regret asking me to stay close”
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brienneoftarth1989 · 2 months
Text
If we ever meet again
Larissa Weems x fem reader
Summary: growing up you were a student at Nevermore. You had a massive crush on your headmistress but due to your age and the fact you were a student meant you couldn’t do anything about it. 12 years later you got a job at the academy you attended as a child praying that the woman you had feelings for was still there.
Warnings: None
Requests open
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Growing up you loved your time at Nevermore. You loved your friends, your classes but most of all you loved spending time with your Principal Larissa Weems.
It was safe to say you had a bit of a harmless crush on Larissa but obviously being a young student, there wasn’t much you could do about it other than admire her from afar. When you were a student there you were sixteen which meant she was about twenty-eight years old.
Did it bother you that there was a twelve year age gap between you? No it did not. You did try to spend as much time around Larissa as you could, for example you would help around her office and complete tasks for her.
To be honest you didn’t always want to do everything she asked but you just enjoyed the company around her. Over the next few years you spent as much time with Larissa as you could considering you were a student and she was your principal.
However the day you left Nevermore was the most heartbreaking day of your life. Saying goodbye to not only your classmates but Larissa was such a hard thing to do. You didn’t want them to know you were hurting down inside so you tried your best to disguise it.
I think Larissa could tell you were quite upset to leave as she told you before you left that it was never really going to be goodbye forever. You did always wonder what she meant by that considering you felt like you would never be returning to Nevermore.
However there was one thing that you were sure of and that was you wanted to get into teaching. After you left Nevermore you went straight to university to get your teaching degree and then getting a degree in botanical science. That subject always did have a way with you back at Nevermore.
You spent about 6 years at university and once you were finished you decided to go travelling for at least a year as it was something you always wanted to do but never got the chance. When you came back you found a small teaching job at one of the schools but it wasn’t teaching what you specialised in. However you needed a job.
In the meantime you did keep an eye out on the Nevermore school website to see if any job applications came about. However there wasn’t much going at all. That wasn’t going to stop you from finally getting a job at the school you grew up in.
After another 5 years and a number of different teaching jobs you finally decided to check to see if Nevermore had any teaching jobs for the upcoming school year. As you were scrolling through you saw one for a botanical science teacher. This was just your luck.
You spent that evening touching up your CV before applying to the job. All you had to do now was wait for a response. That week after a bit of waiting and hoping for a response was the longest week that has ever seemed to have existed.
You were at home scrolling through your phone when an email notification popped up. You were quick to open it to see that you had been selected for an interview with the headmistress. The email had been sent by the school’s office and it didn’t state who the headmistress even was.
Was principal Weems still in charge or was someone else running the school now? I guess there was only one way to find out. You accepted the interview and they later emailed you the details of your upcoming interview.
You had less than a week to prepare yourself for it. You made yourself look up all the relevant information and jotted down notes that you thought would be relevant to your interview. Now all you had to do was face the interview itself.
The day of your interview went great. You got dressed into a smart suit pants ensemble before grabbing all your notes and heading to Nevermore for the time you needed to be there.
Arriving at Nevermore brought you so many memories. It was like nothing had changed. You made your way to the office and waited for your name to be called. There were a few other people also waiting to be interviewed which only made you more nervous.
Knowing you had competition made you worry that you wouldn’t be able to bring something to the table that they might be able to offer. After about 20 minutes of waiting you were finally called into the office where the headmistress was conducting interviews.
You grabbed your stuff nervously before heading into the office that you had been in so many times before. Your heartbeat settled when you saw the one and only Larissa Weems. You sat down opposite her with the desk separating the both of you.
“Principal Weems, it’s so good to see you again” you smiled at her. “I told you it was never goodbye” she smiled as she looked over your CV. The fact that she remembered that was enough to make your heart flutter. “How have you been y/n? It’s been a long time since our days at Nevermore” she smiled at you.
“It’s been good. After my studies here I went to university to get my degree in teaching and botanical science. I then went travelling for a year and then spent the last 5 years teaching at a variety of schools” you told her.
“Aww that’s great to hear. Now, let’s get started with this interview” she smiled. The interview went well. She asked you a number of different questions which you were able to answer perfectly as well as adding your own touch to.
The interview lasted about 45 minutes but it felt like the two of you had been talking for all of 10 minutes. You still got that feeling when you saw and spoke to her which surprised you. Larissa said that you would hear from her in about a week once all the interviews had been conducted.
So in the meantime it was just a waiting game. That week seemed to drag but by the end of it you finally received a call from Larissa. “Hello” you answered the phone waiting for Larissa’s voice on the other end of the line.
“Morning y/n, I’m calling you today to let you know that after interviewing all the other candidates I would like to offer you the job” Larissa told you from the other end of the phone.
“Thank you so much Larissa. I would love to accept the position” you told her, trying your best to hide your excitement. “That’s great to hear y/n! I will email you shortly with everything you need to know. I look forward to working with you at Nevermore” Larissa said before you both said goodbye and hung up. This was the start of a new adventure.
Flash forward to a few months later and you were now finally settled in at Nevermore. You absolutely love teaching your classes and you love that you have onsite accommodation which means you never had to leave the place unless you wanted to go.
You have been getting on well with all your colleagues but there was one you wanted to spend a little more time with as you really got to know the woman you had a huge crush on many years ago. At the moment the two of you have had many chats in the canteen while having lunch and surprisingly you have learnt a lot.
Larissa is currently single which is great for you, she loves fashion as well as her love for Nevermore. It is clear she has such a passion for this school and she also loves going to this cafe called the Weathervane to get herself a hot chocolate most days.
Now you were just finding the courage to ask Larissa out on a date but you were just trying to find the right opportunity to do so. You were currently finishing up teaching your class before heading to the canteen to grab some lunch hoping you would also bump into Larissa so you could ask her a very important question.
You made your way down there quite quickly due to the fact you haven’t had much to eat at all today. You grabbed yourself a tray before helping yourself to the selection of food in front of you. You helped yourself to some pizza, chips and beans before grabbing some cutlery and heading to the tables reserved for teachers.
You sat there as you happily ate your lunch as you scanned the room for Larissa. After about 10 minutes you saw the tall beauty enter the room before grabbing her lunch. When she turned around it looked like she was going to head back out of the canteen but then she caught your eye. ‘
You immediately blushed and looked back down at your food. When you next looked up you found Larissa standing in front of you which only caused you to blush again. “Is it alright if I sit with you y/n?” she asked, waiting for you to answer. “Yeah, of course it is,” you told her. Larissa immediately took a seat next to you as you both happily ate your lunch in peace.
“So how have you found it here these last few months?” Larissa asked as she then took a bite of her pizza. “Yeah it has been absolutely amazing. I love all my students as well as my colleagues” you said smiling at Larissa. “Oh does that mean you love me as well” she teased as you felt yourself blush once more.
“Oh you do don't you, hence why you are blushing” she said laughing but getting more serious. You looked at her seriously for a second debating whether now was the right time to say anything.
“Alright Larissa, I will admit I have a slight crush on you. I have done since I was a student here. However I didn’t want to say anything even now in case I ruin our professional relationship” you sigh as you just looked at Larissa. “You have known all this time haven’t you?” you asked as she had this devilish grin plastered on her face.
“Oh of course I have darling. It wouldn’t take a genius to figure that one out. I understand why you didn’t say anything as a student but even then I could tell. Like who would really want to spend all that time with me? I am flattered though. I was just waiting for you to admit it to me” she smiled at you.
Did she feel the same way? “Ok well now that is out in the open then I guess I have something to ask you. Would you maybe like to go out for hot chocolate with me tomorrow afternoon?” you asked as you felt yourself blush once more. You really needed to get a hold of yourself.
“What? Like a date?” Larissa smiled. You couldn’t tell if she was still joking around or if she was being serious. “Yeah, like a date” you smiled trying to read her emotions. Larissa was quick to look around the canteen before looking back at you to make sure no one else had heard what you asked. “Yeah, I would love to,” she smiled.
You felt the excitement build up inside of you as you had finally landed a date with Larissa. “How does 14:00 sound tomorrow at the Weathervane?” you asked Larissa as you finished eating your lunch. “That sounds perfect. I look forward to it” Larissa smiled as she rested her hand on top of yours.
The two of you chatted for the rest of the lunch break before heading your separate ways for the rest of the day. The two of you exchanged your personal phone numbers before spending most of the day texting each other even though you both should be working.
Your date at the Weathervane went amazingly. The bond between the two of you got closer and closer and the two of you were already planning your next few dates. You couldn’t wait to see where this new adventure with Larissa would take you. The next step was definitely to ask Larissa to be your girlfriend and the thought of it just filled you with excitement.
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atinylittlepain · 1 year
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Love your writing! I love the Unexpected universe, could I please request a really angsty Joel story where baby Miller gets sick nothing extreme, just a colicky baby but because of what happened to Sarah it just brings all of Joel’s fear to the surface? Please add some fluff spice with reader trying to comfort him and cute baby and dad moments?
aw man, i got a bit carried away with this one, i hope you like it <3
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Unmet Expectations
dad!joel miller x f!reader
joel miller masterlist
When baby miller gets sick, Joel gets stuck in the past, leaving her feeling lonelier than ever before.
warnings | 18+ angst, hurt/comfort, grief, sick baby oof, smut at the end
a/n | this one is long, and rather emotionally charged, but with a happy ending of course for our Unexpected Expectings fam :)
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There isn’t much sleeping going on in the Miller household. Except for Ellie, who has the good fortune to be out in the garage, away from the seemingly endless crying. It started a little over a month ago. She had settled Libby down for her afternoon nap, only to be promptly startled by her girl’s shrieking wail, a sound she would become all too familiar with as time progressed and it became clear that they have one very colicky baby on their hands. 
At first, she thought it was just her girl having a bad case of gas, but after a few hours of useless burping and rocking, she started to understand this was something else entirely. Joel came home that night from the stables to find her sitting on the floor of the nursery, tears in her eyes and Libby still screaming in her arms. She wasn’t sure what was worse in that moment, the sound of her girl’s continuous cries, or the look of sheer terror on Joel’s face as he knelt down next to her. He had run across town right then and there to get Suze, who could only advise them to keep their girl comfortable and fed with the reassurance that this sort of thing typically only lasts a month or two. 
It’s been the longest month of her life. Libby is nothing if not consistent, quiet and sweet as a lamb in the mornings, but around one o’clock every day, the crying starts, and it doesn’t stop until late into the night. Ellie has been a saint, and Maria too. Staying with her in the afternoons, keeping her sane as she tries to calm Libby down. Joel, however, is a different story. Since all this started, he’s become silent, unreadable. Much like how he was when they first met.
He takes Libby at night, giving her something of a break when he wordlessly takes her off her hands. She finds him most mornings asleep on the floor of the nursery, pressed right up against the crib, one of his arms usually hung between the wooden slats, keeping contact with their girl who always manages to wear herself off into sleep. It’s the only indication she gets from him of just how much he cares because otherwise, he’s become completely shut off, and it’s starting to freak her out more than Libby’s incessant crying.
They don’t talk anymore. He leaves early for shifts, and when he comes home, usually after dusk, he takes Libby and holes away in the nursery. She had tried to join him a number of times, but the steely look he always gave her kept her hovering at a distance, usually dozing in and out of sleep sitting in the hallway right outside the room. She can hear him in the night, the low thrum of his singing just barely detectable below Libby’s cries, and it breaks her heart that he won’t let anyone else see that part of him, especially not her. She’s grateful for how he takes over with Libby, but it feels like it’s no longer them, no longer a team. She’s surrounded by people who care, but it seems like the one person who matters most is slipping away, and she’s never felt more lonely in her life.
“I’m uh, picking up patrol today with Tommy. Might not be home till later.” Her hands still where she had been scrubbing one of Libby’s bottles in the sink. It’s the most he’s said to her in weeks. She turns around to look at him, his gaze wandering anywhere but to hers.
“I thought you weren’t doing patrol shifts anymore.” 
“They’re down a man today. Just a one time thing.” There’s a lot more she’d like to say, but she can’t get any of it out, not when it feels like she’s talking to a complete stranger. So instead, she just nods, turning back to the sink before the tightness in her throat can spill over into tears. She hears him let out a long sigh behind her.
“I’ll um, see you tonight then.” She sniffs, only answering him with a jerky nod. The sound of his boots thudding away, the open and close of the front door, is a relief that she feels guilty for.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around? It’s no sweat, really. Dina will understand.” She offers Ellie what she can of a smile, easier said than done with her other girl screeching directly in her ear as she rocks her back and forth.
“That’s alright, Ellie bean. You’ve been a huge help already this afternoon, but Joel should be back soon. You should go, have fun.” By the furrowed look on her face, Ellie doesn’t seem to buy that, but she nods.
“Um, ok. Well, you know where to find me– i-if you need me or anything.” She nods and Ellie turns to leave, but seems to think twice of it before turning back to her.
“Are you guys– are you guys ok? You and Joel?” Her heart drops at the question, but luckily Libby chooses that exact moment to raise her screaming to a new decibel, effectively distracting the both of them enough for Ellie to offer her one more anxious smile before heading out. 
She sighs with the close of the front door, continuing to try to soothe Libby as she walks upstairs to the nursery. 
“I know, Libs. Tell me about it, huh?” She sits down in the rocking chair, shifting her squirming girl to cradle her in her lap. When she glances at the clock, she realizes it’s at least an hour past when Joel should have been home. She feels terrible that she doesn’t feel much at the realization, too sleep deprived, too frustrated, too utterly hopeless to muster up much more than faint concern as Libby continues to wail. 
She sits like that for a few hours, through Libby’s ceaseless cries, the relentless noise lulling her into a sort of daze. And then, a miracle. For the first time in a month and a half, Libby stops crying before midnight. Her girl lets out a few sleepy coos before dozing off in her arms, and she has to stop herself from laughing in pure relief as she lays her down in her crib. Stepping out into the hall, she slumps back against the wall, but her peace is short-lived when she realizes that Joel still isn’t home and it’s now much later. 
It’s the final straw that finally sends her reeling as she crumples over, her hands on her thighs as she starts to heave in a silent sob. It feels like she can’t get any air in, taking quick gasping breaths that she tries to stifle, not wanting to make any sound and wake her girl up. Her mind is blaring a shrill alarm of two words, over and over again. He’s gone. Under any other circumstances, she might be able to rationalize, to not jump to the worst conclusion. But she’s running on fumes, and her mind can’t shake the thought that she may have lost him tonight. And then she starts to think about that morning, how she hadn’t even said goodbye, and it sends her down to her knees, collapsing over herself in a silent wail. 
She’s completely caught off guard when a warm palm comes to her back, jerking away from the touch and pressing back against the wall.
“Hey, hey. It’s me– it’s just me.” He kneels down in front of her, palms cupping her cheeks as he tries to coax her to look at him, but she’s still inconsolable, a sobbing mess. His face falls when she won’t calm down.
“What’s wrong? Is it– please don’t tell me it’s Libby.” The frantic edge to his voice cuts through the fog enough for her to shake her head.
“No– she– she’s fine– she’s sleeping. I thought– I thought you were gone– I thought I lost y-y-you.” She’s a shuddering mess of words, breaking down in another silent sob before she can say anymore. Joel’s hands slide down to squeeze hers, dipping his head down to catch her watery gaze.
“I’m not gone– we just had some trouble with one of the horses, alright? Just got back a little late. I’m right here.” She’s with it enough to let out a bitter laugh at his choice of words, her sobs finally dying down into breathy shudders.
“No you’re not.” His face crumples in confusion as he sits back on his haunches.
“What?” She sighs, scrubbing her eyes with the heel of her hand.
“You might be here physically. But I have no fucking clue where you’ve been in your head ever since– ever since Libby got sick.” As she says it, she finally starts to connect the dots. Joel has been acting the same way he acted when she told him she was pregnant, when he tried to get Tommy to take Ellie to Salt Lake City, when she got shot back in Boston. Joel’s been acting the way he acts when he’s scared.
Part of her wants to comfort him, to tell him that she knows, that she gets it. But the other part of her is too far gone in the flood of frustration for that, and instead she lets that righteous anger wash over her.
“I told you that I couldn’t do this without you, that we would do this together. We’re not in this together anymore, Joel. You don’t talk to me anymore, and lord knows you haven’t touched me in at least a month. Am I that repulsive to you? The fucking mother of your child?” His eyes are wide, jaw slack at her words.
“That ain’t what this is about.” She scoffs.
“No, I know what this is about. But, jesus christ, Joel, you aren’t the only one who’s scared right now. We’re supposed to be there for each other, that’s what partners do. They do it scared, together. But you won’t let me in, and you clearly want nothing to do with me.” 
“That’s not– I don’t– it’s–” He stops his own stumbling, letting out a ragged sigh. She just shakes her head.
Before either of them can say anything else, a cry resounds from the nursery. But it’s not like the shrieks they’ve grown accustomed to. This cry is quieter, more needy than distressed. She gets up with a sigh, not looking at Joel as she walks back toward the nursery. Joel is right on her heels.
“Let me, I’ve got her.” She whips around on her heel at his words, holding her palm up between them as she tries to steel her expression.
“Don’t.”
He doesn’t.
She wakes up the next morning in a crunched tangle on the twin bed in Libby’s room, her girl still sleeping like an angel in her crib. After a diaper change last night, Libby had again stopped crying, another hopeful sign that the colic is finally lifting.  She doesn’t have much room to celebrate it with the way the fight she and Joel had last night is occupying her mind. Though she supposes it wasn’t really a fight, more just her falling apart on him. A cool guilt creeps up her spine. She shouldn’t have lashed out at him like that, but she knows she couldn’t hold it in any longer either.
Libby still asleep, she slips into their bedroom, an awful relief that Joel is nowhere to be seen. She’s not ready to face him yet. 
She gets cleaned up, just barely dressed when she starts hearing fussy coos coming from across the hall. Morning light slides syrupy and gold across the nursery floor as she picks Libby up from her crib. This happens like clockwork, and it’s her favorite part of every morning, sitting down in the rocking chair, Libby’s tiny palm pressing against her sternum as she latches on for her breakfast. Even right now, with her mind swirling in worry, watching the contented flutter of her girl’s eyes as she suckles is enough to soothe her.
He clears his throat, and she glances up just briefly to see him standing in the doorway. 
“I think we might finally be done with the colic.” As she speaks, she keeps her eyes focused on Libby, her ears pricking to the shuffle of his bare feet as he comes closer into the room. He stays silent, but she can feel his eyes watching her as Libby turns her head away. She gets up with a sigh, still not looking at him as she bounces lightly side to side, rubbing her girl’s back after readjusting her shirt. 
“I can burp her if you want. Save you a shirt.” She finally looks at him as he speaks, worry clear in the crease between his brows. Part of her wants to be petty, to tell him that she’s got it and shut him out. But she also knows that this is him trying, so she gives him a small nod, gently passing Libby off to him. He’s been good with her from the start, and now is no different as he holds her to his chest, shushing her fussy whimpers as he lightly pats her back. She can’t help but smile at the sight, leaning up against the crib as she finally holds his gaze.
“Made coffee, if you want some. Pot’s probably still warm.” That’s a peace offering if she ever heard one. She hums, nodding noncommittally in response. It’s clear that Joel has something else to say.
“Could we– could we talk?” He sounds so unsure of the question, his brow all twisted up. She’s already thawing, offering him a smile and a nod.
“That one will conk right out when you’re done burping her. Let’s talk after you get her down, alright?” He sets his mouth in a thin line, his eyes still soft as he nods. She passes by him with a sigh, her palm resting for a moment on his bicep as she presses a kiss to Libby’s crown before slipping out of the room. She really needs that cup of coffee.
Spring is finally thawing out the winter freeze, and it’s just sunny enough to sit on the back porch with a warm mug and a sweater. It isn’t long before he joins her. She notes the way he keeps a sizable distance between them on the bench seat.
“Sarah was colicky too, y’know.” She hadn’t been expecting that, turning to look at him. He’s leaning forward, his elbows resting on his thighs as he cranes his neck back to meet her gaze.
“Was she?” He nods, letting out a breathy laugh.
“Scared the living shit out of me. Her mom– well, she wasn’t much help. Pfft, pretty sure I cussed out the doctor when he told me I just had to wait for it to pass– wait for Sarah to get better.” He studies his hands, fingers flexing as he continues.
“She cried and cried– just like Libby. I stayed up with her every night and just about lost my mind. Knowing she– my baby, my girl– was in so much pain and there was nothing I could do. It was torture.” She brings a tentative palm to his shoulder, feeling him slacken under her touch as he finally looks at her again.
“I’m sorry, darlin. I got stuck in the past and left you here to deal with the present.” She sets her mug down before scooting closer to him to sling her arm over his shoulders, feeling relief when he lets her tangle her other hand with his.
“I accept your apology. I just wish you would’ve talked to me. I know you don’t think I can understand– and I probably can’t, at least not entirely. But I can’t even try to if you don’t let me in.” She rests her chin on his shoulder, feeling the rise and fall of his sigh.
“I know you’re right– I do. It’s just so fucking hard. I just– I’ve gotten real good at running away from it– just shutting it down. Talking like this feels damn near impossible.” She leans back, coaxing him to look at her.
“We knew this wasn’t gonna be easy. And we said we’d get through this together. Joel, you can’t shut down like that– you just can’t. I– we need you too much.” He swallows hard, nodding at her words, and she can’t help but brush his wavy hair out of his face, resting her palm on his cheek afterward.
“You talk to me, huh? And I’m gonna try so hard to understand. I promise.” She stamps her words with a kiss, pressing her forehead against his as they both let out a sigh. 
“Gonna do better by you, darlin. Not gonna disappear on you again.” 
“It’s magic, right? It’s gotta be magic.” Joel quietly laughs at her whispers, both of them looking down at their girl who is fast asleep in the settling night time by some sort of miracle. Libby had done so much better the rest of the day. No more relentless shrieking or fussy squirming. It was like a switch had been flipped, and she and Joel are just hoping it stays that way. 
He places his palm between her shoulder blades, head tilting toward the doorway. She gets the hint, both of them quietly padding out of the nursery and across the hall to their own bedroom.
“Are we actually gonna get to sleep in our own bed tonight?” He smiles at that, lifting his hand to brush his fingers along her cheek. He’s being careful, she can tell. All day he’s been quiet, but close, taking the day off of shifts to stick by her side. She knows that this is his way of apologizing, his way of trying, and she’s grateful for it.
Whether or not they’re showering together has become a sort of litmus test to determine how their relationship is doing. They haven’t done this in a month, and she only realizes how much she missed it, missed him, when she finally gets her hands on him again, running her soaped-up palms along the broad expanse of his back as he faces away from her under the warm stream of water. She smiles at the groan he lets out when she presses her fingers into that spot between his shoulder blades that’s always knotted up, working the kink out before slipping her palms further down. A breathy chuckle thrums in his chest when she slides her palms down the strong curve of his ass, stepping in closer to wrap her arms around him and trail her hands up the soft muscle of his stomach.
“What’re you doing back there, mama?” She can hear the smile in his voice, and revels in the shudder that runs through him when she presses a kiss to the nape of his neck.
“Taking care of you. You gonna let me?” She feels the huff he lets out in the rise and fall of his shoulders, quick to turn in her hold and steal one, two, three kisses before she can press on his chest to get him to let up. His hands fall to her waist, squeezing at the swell and pulling her into him, chest to chest. His cock rests hot and solid against her thigh.
“We take care of each other, huh?” His words bloom warm in her chest and the smile she offers him is the biggest relief. He reaches behind her to grab the bar of soap, lathering up his hands. It’s a strange contrast, the roughness of his palms and the tenderness of the press of his skin against hers as he trails over every inch of her body he can reach. She gets both, and she knows it’s a gift.
His touch begins to linger and stutter, squeezes left to his favorite parts of her, his grin growing smugger with each shudder he coaxes out of her. 
“We’re wasting water. Maria’s gonna kill us.” He groans low at that, laying a harsh squeeze to her ass that she yelps at.
“That is the last thing I wanna think about right now.” She breathes out a laugh as he corners her against the tiled wall. She barely manages to flip off the water as he presses against her, licking hotly into her mouth. With a light tug to his damp waves, he pulls away, both of them panting in the humid bathroom air.
“Can we at least get dried off? The last thing I want is one of us slipping and cracking our skull open.” Joel grumbles at that, shaking his head as he steps in closer. However, with the step he takes, his back heel slips out causing him to stumble into her as they both struggle to stay upright. They’re a tangle of limbs as they find their footing, her arms wrapped over his shoulders and his around her waist. Looking at each other, all they can do is laugh.
“Would it kill you to tell me I’m right every now and again?” She teases him, a crooked grin as she stays wrapped up in his arms.
“You’re right– you’re right– you’re right. There, will that do, darlin?” He punctuates each repetition with a chaste kiss to her lips, leaving her laughing as he jostles her in his hold. She hums lightly.
“Hmm, I suppose. For now.” He huffs at that, retaliating with a hard smack to the curve of her ass that has her jolting in his grip, causing them both to stumble about in the shower again. They’re fools for each other, only for each other.
Drying off is made all but impossible by the way they stay glued to each other, and their skin is still damp when they finally make it to their bed, toppling into the sheets still tangled up in kisses and sighs and wandering hands. Joel coaxes her onto her back, settling between her legs as he trails a hand down to her cunt, dragging a brazen swipe through her heat that has her arching up into her touch.
“Joel, please– no teasing tonight. I just– I need you, baby.” He shushes her with a kiss, fingers languidly circling her clit.
“You’ve got me, darlin– not going anywhere, huh? Gonna give you what you need.” She has to bite back a whine at the loss of his touch, but it’s only a fleeting desperation as he presses the throbbing tip of his cock up against her entrance. Though it’s been a while, they move well together like they always do, bodies in complete communion as she draws her leg up along his waist, opening up to him as he presses his hips forward. He stills with his hips hilted into hers, his forehead pressing into her sternum with a ragged sigh. 
“Fucking hell– missed you so bad, mama– s’not fair how good you feel– not gonna last like this–” His voice is hoarse, broken by sweet agony, and she tries to soothe him with a smattering of kisses to his hairline, drawing him to look up at her.
“It’s ok, baby. Just wanna feel you– feel so perfect, Joel. Can you move for me?” She presses a kiss to the crease between his brows and he chases after her lips, groaning into a deep kiss as he rolls his hips back only to snap them forward again. He swallows the gasp she lets out at the deep grind of him, her nails digging into his shoulders as he guides them into that familiar push and pull. 
In just the few months of having their girl, they’ve learned how to keep quiet, all breathy sighs and muffled kisses, but she’s having a hard time holding back her high-pitched whimpers at the way he’s thrusting into her, punctuating each snap of his hips with a hard grind that strokes a spot inside her that’s already tilting her over the edge of pleasure. But it starts to become too much when Joel brings his fingers back to her clit, drawing stuttering swipes that have her spasming around him.
“C’mon, mama– let go for me– want it so bad– that’s it, darlin–” his praises become muffled noise as she comes, her heels now digging into his ass where her legs are wrapped around him, clutching him as he fucks her through the rolling high. Joel is quick to follow, pulling out of her with a harsh groan and sloppily stroking himself a few times before his warmth is smearing across the plush of her thigh. It's a far cry from the heated trysts they used to engage in, hours on end of tangled passion long traded in for these little bursts of love that she cherishes just as much, if not more.
He collapses next to her, slumping on his back, his arm crossed over himself to keep his palm splayed over her stomach. She rests her hand on top of his, tangling their fingers together as they both catch their breath. But, there isn’t much time to revel in the moment when soft cries start to carry from across the hall. She can’t help but smile as she looks at him, and he lets out a sigh.
“Go get cleaned up, mama. I’ve got her.” He punctuates his words with a kiss, leaning over and brushing his fingers along her cheek. They share a quietly murmured “love you,” and she idly watches him get up, the soft pull of his muscles as he slips on a t-shirt and a pair of boxers before padding across the hall to Libby’s room.
They don’t get to sleep in their own bed that night. After getting cleaned up, she trails into the nursery, finding Joel quietly singing to their girl in the rocking chair. He glances up at her, but keeps singing, his voice low and sweet, lulling Libby back to sleep in his arms. With their girl tucked back in her crib, they wind up in a close tangle on the twin bed.
It's the best sleep they've gotten in a month.
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wandering-feather · 10 months
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I’m Glad I Chose Nevermore
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Larissa Weems X Fem Reader
No minors!
Warnings: Smut. Oral and fingering. Angst. Comfort.
You arrived at Nermore as the Vice Principal. You had so much hope for the new job. But the Principal of Nevermore wants nothing to do with you.
Enemies to Lovers
Sitting at your desk in your office you frown at the email that you just received from the School Board of Nevermore. You have been the Vice Principal at Nevermore for 6 months and you're already getting in trouble. Not that it was entirely your fault. It all started when you applied for a teaching position at Nevermore. You wanted to get away from the city and decided to turn over a job at a prestigious school in New York City to teach students who you believed you could truly help. The board who gets the applications first decided to contact you directly and not pass the application to the Principal. With your experience they asked if you would be interested in a new position they were creating; the Vice Principal. They explained how the past year many things happened and that it would help the school out. You decided to accept the offer because again you believed you would be helping.
How wrong you were. The board had surprised the Principal, Larissa Weems just a few days before you were to arrive that you would be the new Vice Principal. You could remember your first time meeting her. You could tell she was tense and didn't like you. She didn’t even try to hide it. You knew she did not want you there. You also couldn’t help but see how beautiful she was. You could get lost in her eyes. When she stood you were blown away by her height, her long legs, and her figure. You had to quickly distract yourself from staring at her. You were pretty sure she saw though. She had shown you your office and quarters, handed you the keys and disappeared. That was most likely the longest conversation you ever had. At first you were so naive and thought with time she would come around. That was not the case though if anything it was getting worse.
You were always given meaningless work by her. Many binders of past budgets, curriculum, and whatever else Principal Weems could find littered your office. You felt that you never got anytime with students. Any of your ideas she would instantly shut down. You knew she was not going to stop until you quit. You began to feel hatred towards the woman which confused you because even when she was yelling at you, you couldn't help but to just want to kiss her bright red lips. It was the last straw of your already strained working relationship when she had offered to let you lead the next staff meeting. You thought maybe that things were finally moving the right direction. You prepped the material she gave you and was ready to finally show what you are capable of. However, you quickly learned she had tricked you and she gave you outdated information. You bit your bottom lip so hard as she explained in front of everyone that you should be better prepared for a meeting that she asked you to do over a week ago. You were humiliated, you were done and there was so much tension in the room that you could cut it with a knife.
Now staring at the email explaining that the board has heard of tension between you and Principal Weems. It went on to explain that there was an important meeting where she gave you a chance to show yourself and was not prepared. They were worried that you might not be working out with the current staff and causing issues. They were giving you 90 days to learn how to work with the staff at Nevermore or else they were going to find someone else. You took a deep breath and slammed your computer shut. Standing up you walk quickly out of your office to find the real root of the issue and you find yourself in front of the Principal’s office. You thought about just storming in but that would be unprofessional and get you nowhere. You knocked on the door maybe a little harder then you meant you heard the soft come in.
When you entered the office you saw her smile completely disappear.
“Can I help you, Vice Principal?” She asked, tilting her head.
“Principal Weems, you know why I am here. I’m sure the board has contacted you about me not getting along well at the school.” You crossed your arms over your chest. “I wouldn’t be surprised if it was you who contacted them”
You saw her smile, she wasn’t even going to deny it. You mentally kick yourself when you think about how you wanted to kiss her.
“It’s my job to look out for the students and this school and if I see an issue I try to fix it.” She was so smug.
“An issue you're causing.” You uncross your arms as she stands up and comes to stand in front of you.
“I would be very careful what you say next.” She sneers in your face.
You take a step back and shake your head. “No I’m done with being treated like someone who is doing something wrong. You have blocked me every time I tried to do something. You won’t even give me the chance to be something good for this school.” You could hear your voice getting louder.
“Maybe that’s because you are not needed here.” She simply said, turning her back to you looking towards the fire. You can see her facade dropping a little.
“I applied for a teaching job and they contacted me about this job. I was hesitant. I never planned to be in administration. I’m not here to take your job. We could have been good colleagues, maybe even friends.” You couldn’t help but think about maybe even more than friends.
Larissa stepped from the fire back in front of you, “you think I would want to be your friend?” She laughed in your face.
You were stunned you couldn’t speak. You didn’t understand how she could be so hateful with you. You watch her with her students and others. She’s so nice and so caring with them. It’s why you know she doesn’t mean these things. Or at least you hope she doesn’t. She’s just scared you're going to take her job.
“You are just miserable and lonely and want to make me feel that way also.��� You didn’t mean it. But the words slipped out. You saw the look in her eyes. It was not just anger but hurt. She believed the words you said. You felt bad. This is not how you wanted it to go.
“Get out.” You were frozen in your spot. You knew you messed up.
“I’m sorry I didn’t…”
“Now” you jumped at the louder volume in her voice.
You quickly turned and excited her office. You felt your eyes begin to sting. You knew you shouldn’t have said that. You also knew that she was wrong with what she said. But the look in her eyes she truly believed what you said. You had to fix this. You walked towards your quarters and shut the door. The tears fell as you slid down the door. You should have just stayed in the city.
***
It has now been a month since your argument with Principal Weems. She only spoke to you when she had to. She also didn’t give you any meaningless work but she also didn’t give you anything to do. So you decided to take time and get to know the students. You talked to them, listened to their complaints and what they would see better for the school. You hated what you said to Principal Weems. You couldn’t help but notice she had withdrawn herself some. Today you set up a volleyball net you ordered to get some students outside for a beautiful day. Today was a perfect day with no classes and beautiful weather. You were teaching Enid how to serve and get it over the net when you looked up to see Larissa looking down at you. You could have sworn you saw a smile but now she had a stern look on her face. You couldn't look away. She looked so sad. You said something to her that she truly believed was true. You knew she was wrong for the way she treated you. But it seemed a fact that she was insecure and she felt threatened. You watch as she turns around and heads back into her office and a volleyball hits you in the head.
“I’m so sorry, Vice Principal.” Enid looked at you with scared eyes.
“Don’t worry about it Enid I wasn’t paying attention. Why don’t you all play for now. I have something I need to do.” You waved at them and headed to your quarters.
You showered and changed into some comfortable clothes. You headed to Principal Weems office and knocked. You heard the soft voice telling you to come in. You stepped into her office and found her in front of the fire sitting and sipping on wine.
“Oh it’s you. I thought you were out playing with the students.” She smirked at you.
“I was but I thought it would be time to apologize for what I said a while ago. I should have never said it.” You sighed seeing her take a sip of her wine not looking at you.
“Why apologize, you were only telling the truth.” Her voice sounded so broken. You hated seeing her like this no matter how you have been treated.
“That’s not true, I was upset. I just wanted to be useful for this school to help you. To help these students. I’m not your enemy Larissa.” You didn’t mean to let her first name slip. But sighed with relief when she just looked at you and shrugged.
“Well I don’t need any help. The school was just fine before you showed up.” She said taking a sip again.
“I’m sure it was.” You walked and stood in front of her. “I meant what I said. I don’t want to take your job away from you. I just want to help. I would like to be your friend. You don’t have to feel lonely.”
Larrisa didn’t say anything. This past month she has seen you in a new light. The way you were with the students. You took time to listen to them. To make sure they are okay. She knew what you were saying was true. She stood up and you took a step back. You swallowed. You knew you crossed a line.
“I’m sorry I…” before you could finish your sentence Larissa leaned down and crashed her lips against yours. The kiss was sloppy and needy and you moaned into the kiss and gripped at her waist. She pulled back and you wimpred at the loss of touch. Before she could say anything you pushed her back in the chair and climbed into her lap straddling her and kissed her lips. She was surprised at first but wrapped her arms around your waist pulling you closer. You pulled back gasping for air looking into her eyes asking if she was okay with this. Her lips crashed against yours again as she licked your lips. You granted her access and you couldn’t help but buck your hips against hers. You felt her moan into the kiss and you knew you wanted to show her and give her attention. You pulled back and slid off the chair to your knees.
“Larissa I’m going to help you feel good.” You ran your hands up her creamy thighs pushing her dress up to around her waist. You could see her soaking in lacy underwear and smiling at her. You were giving her one last chance to tell you no. To push you away. When she lifted up some you took that as an okay and you hooked your fingers in her underwear sliding them down. You kissed on her thighs as you tossed the underwear to the side.
You looked up at her through hooded eyes. “Just relax Larissa, I got you.”
She nodded and you ran your tongue along her slit. You couldn’t help but moan against her mound at hearing her moan. You circled your tongue along her clit pressing pressure and sucking at the sensitive spot. You listened to her moans to guide you to what she wanted.
“Oh god yes right there don’t stop.” She panted out grabbing your hair pressing you closer to her. You wanted to give her more and slid two fingers inside her curling them. You could feel her thighs tighten around your head and you move your fingers faster. She was trying to muffle her moans as you sucked harder on her clit.
“I’m so close. Yes, just like that.” She cried out bucking her hip lightly against your face.
You looked up at her and pulled back still pumping your fingers. “Just let go Larissa.” You went back to giving attention to her clit. You didn’t want to take your eyes off of her. She was so beautiful right now. You could feel her clinch around your fingers as she cried out orgasiming. You lapped up her cum and slid your fingers out. Looking up at her you sucked your fingers cleaning her off them. She just looked at you with her mouth slightly opened trying to catch her breath.
“Do you feel better?” You asked standing up.
Larissa pushed her dress down. “Yes thank you.”
You smiled down at her sitting there and you wanted to reach out and touch her cheek but that was too intimate.
“It’s okay to let go of control sometimes.” You felt a little shy all of sudden. You wanted this to be about her but you needed to touch yourself to relieve yourself.
“Goodnight Larissa.” You said leaving her office.
You walked back to your room and closed the door. You don’t know if you made things worse. You didn’t know what tomorrow would hold. But you enjoyed pleasuring Larissa. You wanted more and you hoped she did too. That night you laid in bed and touched yourself with the same fingers you had inside Larissa moaning her name.
***
Things ended up being a lot better between the two of you after that. You guys spent time together drinking wine in each other's offices. Most times it led to sex. It was rough and needy and felt amazing. You guys got to know each other and became friends. You wanted more but you felt she didn’t. Your 90 day review came and went and you still had your job. You felt like you were doing good for the school.
You were back in your own quarters after spending the evening with Larissa in her office. You could still feel her long fingers pumping inside you hard while she had you bent over her desk. It felt great but it also felt like it was missing something. You wanted to be touched and feel loved. You wanted something more than just sex. You wanted it to be more than just that. You wanted it to be more with Larissa. You felt the tears falling down your cheeks. You knew you had fallen in love with her. You knew when she apologized for how she treated you when you first arrived at Nevermore. However you were just a friend to her. Someone she could use for relaxation. It was just sex for her. You were torn. You needed to stop it for your own good but you didn’t think you could. You would take what you got.
The next night you were in her office as she poured you both a glass of wine. She sat down on the couch next to you handing you yours. She could tell something was wrong, you were quiet and reserved.
“Darling, are you going to tell me what’s got you so quiet tonight?” She asked, placing her hand on your thigh. She could feel you tense and pulled her hand back really concerned now.
“I’m sorry Larissa I guess I’m tired.” You lied. You knew she would see right through you.
“It seems to be more than that. We are friends, you can talk to me.” She said looking at you with concern in her eyes.
You couldn’t lie to her. You had to tell her. “Larissa, am I just sex to you?” You didn’t mean to come out so bluntly.
Larrisa looks at you confused, “no we are friends too. I thought I made that clear.”
You sighed and shook your head, “ no I get that but when we have sex…” you decided to just get to the point. “Larissa I know saying this could ruin everything but I have feelings for you. Feelings that’s beyond friendship. I…. I love you.” You couldn’t look at her, you knew you just messed it all up.
Larrisa just looked at you for a few seconds. “Darling, please look at me.”
You looked up at her and you didn’t see anger in her eyes. “I’m sorry I shouldn’t have said anything.”
Larissa looked in your eyes and could see the vulnerability in them. You were telling her how you feel laying it on the table. There was no doubt in your eyes. She never thought anyone would look at her like that. She had put up walls to not let her feel that way towards anyone. These past few months you helped build her up to become a stronger person and tear those walls down. You never doubted her even after the way she treated you. Here you sat in front of her, baring your soul and she felt her own heart swell.
“Come here.” She pulled you onto her lap and you straddled her. She ran her finger along your cheek. “Darling it’s more than sex. Let me show you.”
She stood up as you wrapped your legs around her waist and she carried you into her quarters. You had never been here before. You let her kiss you as she made it to her bed and laid you down gently. You looked up at her. Larissa climbed in the bed and on top of you. She kept kissing you and let her hands roam your body. You were lost in her touch and the way she was looking at you. She slowly undressed you, taking her time kissing on your skin. It took longer for you to lay naked underneath her as she let her hands roam your body.
You whimpered when she pulled away. “Patients my darling.”
You watched her as she began to undress herself. She wouldn’t let you help. You then watched as she took her hair down. You have never seen her hair down before she looked like an angel as her curls fell down her back. You reached for her as her lips crashed against yours and her naked skin was flushed up against yours. You have never felt this close to anyone. You spread your legs letting her lay in between them. You could feel her so close. You wanted this for so long. She kissed along your jaw moving her hand down your stomach and above your folds she slid a finger in between them smiling at your gasp. You close your eyes arching your back pressing yourself against her.
“Darling, open your eyes, please look at me.” She smiled when you opened your eyes.
“Larissa, please I need you.” You begged, finally getting your voice.
Larissa smiled again and slid two fingers inside you and moved them slowly. “Keep your eyes on me darling and listen to me.” She kissed your lips as you moaned and nodded.
“You are way more than just sex,” she spoke moving her fingers, “you have made me feel things I never thought I could.” She pressed her palm against your clit, smiling at you as you moaned. “I love you too.”
Your eyes keep looking at hers as she kisses you passionately. “I love you so much. You have made it possible for me to love.”
Her confession pushed you over the edge and you felt your whole body tremble underneath her as you came gripping at her shoulders. “Oh god Larissa, don't stop.” You needed more of her. You couldn’t get enough. You felt her fingers slide out of you and you whimpered as she put them in her mouth.
“You taste amazing.” You almost came again with her words. She began to kiss down your neck taking her time at your chest. She left open kisses along your stomach. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her. She began to kiss on your thighs. Your breath caught in your chest as she buried herself in between your legs. She sucked on your clit before running her tongue down your slit and slid her tongue inside you. You put your hand in her hair moaning her name.
“Larissa oh god yes right there.” You arch your back catching her eyes. You could see the love. You were loved back by her and again you felt yourself being pushed over the edge. You kept your eyes on her and she licked you clean of your release. She kissed back up your body and kissed you passionately as you wrapped your arms around her neck.
“Do you still think it’s just sex darling?” She asked, smiling at you, moving some hair out of your face.
“No Larissa, that was amazing. I love you.” You smiled up at her still breathing heavily. Never in a million years did you think this is where you two would be when you first arrived at Nevermore.
Larissa smiles at you and pulls back pulling you into her arms as she laid back. You laid your head on her chest. “You want me to stay?” You asked.
“Of course.” She smiled down at you and you reached up kissing her lips.
“I’m glad I chose Nevermore.” You said as you felt her pull you closer.
“Me too darling.” She ran her fingers along your bare back as your eyes drifted close. She was thankful you didn’t give up on her, that you truly loved her for who she was. She closed her eyes, keeping a hold of you with never planning on letting you go.
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gunnerfc · 3 months
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Rivals | Hayley Raso x Barça!Reader (18+)
(Reader plays for USWNT & Barça (former Arsenal player))
Summary: You seem to always be facing Hayley, whether it's with the national team or for club. Each time you two get a bit aggressive with each other before it finally leads to something steamier off the pitch after an El Clásico match.
Warnings: bottom!Hayley, top!reader, nipple sucking, oral (hayley receiving), coarse language, R calling Hayley “ribbons” sarcastically, hair pulling, fingering (R receiving)
WC: 4K - my longest fic so far omg 🥴
AN: yk this is fiction because Hayley is starting… (when I catch you alberto toril)
You woke up excited and filled with energy, ready to play in your first-ever El Clásico. This game has been all you could think about for the past week. When you first signed for Barcelona, you were immediately impressed with the culture and atmosphere the team had cultivated and that is only elevated when you get to play Real Madrid. 
Your overall excitement was cut back when you remembered who played for Real Madrid. It seems that no matter where you are playing, you will eventually have to play against Hayley Raso. You two always played aggressively against each other, for both club and country. Some of your best moments have been playing against the Australian, and the same could be said for her. It was like you both were always trying to one-up the other.
Throughout the day leading up to arriving at the stadium with the team, you’ve tried your best to shake any thoughts of the Aussie from your head but she just wouldn’t leave your mind. Something about this game felt different between the two of you and you couldn’t place your finger on why. All you could hope for was a Barça win and to walk away having played the best you could, anything else that happened would stay on the pitch. 
As you were changing into your warmup kits, Keira took it upon herself to joke about your complicated relationship with Hayley. “Excited to see your little friend, Y/n,” the midfielder laughed from her spot next to you in the locker room. You shook your head at her joke, trying to get into your game-ready mode. You slightly regret telling the Lioness about how you always play harder when it is against Hayley.
As you made your way to the pitch for warmups, you could see that the Real Madrid players were already on the pitch. You tried to not make it obvious you were looking for Hayley but as you looked around the other side of the pitch, you could hear Keria laughing from behind you. You turned to give her a pointed look before subtly looking at the opposing side once more. This time, you instantly spotted the white ribbon tied in the Aussie’s hair. Before you could look away, she turned and caught you staring. Neither of you smiled, instead the look you both had was one of competitiveness. 
You spent the rest of warmups solely focused on the tasks you were told to do, each time Hayley popped into your head, you got more aggressive in your play. Jona had a look of approval at your eagerness to do well and patted you on the back as you passed him on your way back to the locker room. 
After a quick speech from Alexia and Marta, the starting eleven were standing in the tunnel waiting to head onto the pitch. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Hayley standing to your left. You had to resist the urge to turn to her fully, instead, you shook your head going over everything you had done in preparation for this game. Walking out to the pitch and doing all the pre-game things, you were focused only on the next ninety minutes. 
When the ref blew her whistle and Salma kicked the ball back to start the game you were all in. You played on the same side as Hayley so you were instantly marked by her. You could tell that she was also determined to play one of the best games of her career. 
Each time you got the ball from one of your teammates, the Aussie was right there to take the ball from you. As much as you were annoyed at her actions, you repaid the favor each time she had the ball. Neither of you were going to let the other get past and potentially break the deadlock.
It was almost half time and the scoreline remained the same as it was when the game started. Both teams were on their A-game for different reasons. Real Madrid wanted to finally claim victory over Barcelona and Barcelona wanted to extend their winning streak over Madrid.
As you battled with Hayley for the ball near the sidelines after a perfect pass from Keira, the Australian had a tight grip on your jersey, pulling you off the ball. You ended up forcing the ball out for a Real Madrid throw and with a groan you moved away from the sidelines.
“If you wanted to see me shirtless that bad, Raso, all you had to do was ask,” you huffed in frustration. You turned your back to her to focus on who you were now marking. With your back to her, you missed the flash of arousal in the winger’s eyes as she thought about you without your shirt.
After a long forty-five minutes, the ref’s whistle blew for halftime, allowing you to catch your breath. The battle between you and the Australian winger had proven to be aggressive, taking a lot more effort than any other opponent you’ve faced this season. The talk the team received at halftime seemed to light a fire inside all of you as you took the field for the next forty-five. 
Just like the first half, each team was playing their best. No one could get a good pass to set up a chance on goal and possession was split fifty-fifty. You made an effort to cut out any pass that was sent Hayley’s way, not giving her a chance to touch the ball as much as she did in the first half.
In what seemed like a rare opportunity, a pass from Ona made its way to you with what seemed like a perfect run on goal. But as you turned to start dribbling with the ball, your feet were swept out from under you and you hit the ground hard. You groaned from the pain but it was quickly replaced with anger. You could hear your teammates trying to get a yellow card shown to the Australian. 
You ignored them as you focused your attention on Hayley who was trying to plead her case to the ref. You pulled her arm to force her to face, ignoring the ref’s warnings. “What the fuck was that, Raso,” you hissed, your anger evident in your tone.
“Please, we both know I got the ball first, you should watch your surroundings,” Hayley retaliated. While she was telling the truth, you were still pissed about the tackle. 
Looking down at her due to the slight height difference between you, your jaw was clenched. "Look up, would ya? It hurts my neck looking down on you," you huffed, moving your hand to her chin to lift her head up. Hayley's jaw clenched this time as she shoved your hand away, the ref's whistle blowing before she could rebuttal. 
With a warning for both of you, the ref allowed Barça to take a free kick where Hayley had fouled you. The free kick didn’t amount to anything as the ball was sent over the crossbar from a header from Lucy. You knew if you retaliated for the foul you would be the one with a yellow or worse, so you opted to get back at the Aussie by scoring.
Hayley had been on your heels the entire game and the second you got away from her, you scored off a perfect cross from Ona. You didn't have time to think about running towards the defender before you felt Patri jumping on your back. You quickly celebrated your goal with your teammates before jogging back to the middle of the pitch for the restart. As you passed Hayley, you sent her a smug look and a quick teasing wink which earned you an eye roll in response. If she could given you the middle finger with zero repercussions, she would've. 
The scoreline stayed at one to zero for the next ten minutes before a second for Barcelona came when Aitana shot from outside the box. You had assisted her goal and were the first person she ran to when the ball hit the back of the net. As you celebrated the goal, you could see Hayley’s pissed expression as she talked to two of her teammates. Seeing the look on her face made the smile on your face grow. 
With four minutes left to play, Hayley had gotten past you and was able to get a point back for Madrid. It was your turn to wear the pissed off expression as you watched the home side celebrate. For the remaining few minutes of the game, both teams failed to score again. While you were upset that Madrid had scored, you were thrilled that your first El Clásico was a success.
You took your time shaking hands with the Real Madrid players, not in a hurry to get rid of the feeling of winning an El Clásico match. After shaking hands with Olga, you turned to face the Australian you'd been neck and neck with all evening.
"Better luck next time, ribbons?” you quipped with a smirk as you stuck your hand out for the winger to shake.
"Fuck you, Y/l/n," the brunette growled but didn’t make an effort to remove her hand from yours.
Before you could process your thoughts, you were replying with something you wouldn't have thought. "Would that finally get rid of your fucking attitude?" you questioned, the grip you still had on Hayley's hand tightening. 
Neither of you spoke, but both of your breathing was heavy. Not because you had just played an aggressive ninety-plus minutes of football, but because you seemingly just crossed into new territory. 
You didn't get the chance to say anything else before Hayley's teammates pulled her away. Her hand left a burning sensation in your own as she pulled it away. You stood in the same spot for a moment before shaking your head to collect your thoughts.
You did your normal routine of greeting the fans and signing a few things before retreating to the locker room. Your teammates were loudly celebrating yet another win over Real Madrid. You tuned them out as you sat in your cubby, your thoughts racing of a certain Australian winger. 
You quickly gathered your things to take a shower, hoping none of your teammates would question your sudden mood change. As you stood under the flowing water with your eyes closed, different images of the Australian flashed in your mind. The simple thought of her head thrown back as she moaned your name, begging you to touch her had you breathing faster. Seemingly with a mind of its own, one of your hands traced down your body as a familiar feeling grew within you. You were pulled from your thoughts just as your hand reached between your legs as some of your teammates entered the shower area. You shook your head to refocus on showering, not wanting to be in there for too long. 
As you gathered your things and made your way out of the locker room, you opened the door to face the same person who had clouded your thoughts all day. Both of you froze as you stared at each other, unsure of what to do or say. 
The decision was made for you when you were forced to move out of the way when Patri and Pina tried to exit the locker room. Patri grabbed you by the shoulder, pulling you with her towards the bus while talking excitedly about the game. You tried your best to focus on what she was saying as you turned your head back to look at the Australian. 
When you arrived back at the hotel, you headed straight for your room. You were glad that Marta, your roommate, had told you she was going to spend time with Caro in her room. With the room to yourself, you allowed your thoughts to race for the first time today.
As you lay on the hotel bed in an intense staring contest with the ceiling, your phone buzzed on the nightstand next to you. You groaned as you rolled to your side to see what the notification was. Your eyebrows furrowed as you saw a notification from Instagram. Your confusion turned to shock as you saw Hayley's name on your screen. 
hayleyraso: my place then?
yourinstagram: whats the address?
Sneaking out of the team hotel was not something you planned but as you walked to the elevator, you felt a different form of excitement fill your body. The Uber to the Australian's apartment was quiet but your mind was not. The images from the shower once again replay in your mind but now that they could possibly become reality, you didn't try to get rid of them.
You quickly thanked the Uber driver before exiting the car that stopped in front of an apartment building. You took a deep breath before heading inside and straight for the elevator. You felt your hands grow sweaty as you continued up floors. You took your time walking to her door, mentally preparing yourself for whatever was about to happen. 
You knocked softly on the door, not wanting to be disrespectful to her neighbors who were mostly likely asleep at this time. You waited for almost a minute and a half before you could hear the door in front of you unlock and be jerked open.
"Took you long enough," you huffed, your usual annoyance with the brunette making its return the moment you were in her presence again.
"Do you ever stop running your mouth," Hayley snapped, sharing your annoyance. 
"Only when it's preoccupied with other things," you smirked at the winger, confidence taking over. Hayley rolled her eyes at your words but you didn't miss the light blush that coated her face. 
Hayley's hand wrapped around the hem of your shirt, pulling through the threshold of her Madrid apartment. When you were through the door, it was closed loudly and your back was flushed against it. You bent your neck slightly as Hayley tilted her head up and your lips met for the first time. 
You fought each other for dominance, moaning in between kisses. Each kiss was heavy and deeper than the last. You lightly nipped at her bottom lip in between kisses which resulted in Hayley moaning louder. 
You pushed off the door to head towards her bedroom for a more comfortable experience. Your hands rested on her waist as hers wrapped around your neck. You pulled away slightly to whisper "jump" against her lips, signaling her to wrap her legs around your waist.  Hayley for once listened without some snarky remark and her legs were around your waist as soon as the words left your mouth. you moved your hands from her waist to hold her thighs as you navigated her apartment. It was a one bedroom apartment in the Spanish capital so you had no problem finding it despite being preoccupied. 
You found the bed almost immediately after entering Hayley's bedroom, laying the winger down as her legs remained around your waist. You propped your hands on either side of her head, Hayley held your face close in a deep kiss. Your body was almost flush with hers, but it was too little contact for the Aussie.
Your lips moved against each other in a battle, both trying to dominate the other. From under you, Hayley's hips moved against yours in an attempt to get some form of release. You smirked into the kiss, finding her desperation amusing but hot. 
"Desperate much, ribbons," you mumbled against her lips, pulling back with a small nip to her bottom lip.
Hayley rolled her eyes at your words but the fact that her hips had yet to stop their light grinding proved she wasn't annoyed. Instead of responding, the winger opted to move her hands to the hem of your shirt, pulling it over your head in one swoop. You moved one of your hands to lift her shirt off her body, the Aussie’s back arching to help the shirt come off easier.
With her shirt thrown to the floor with yours, your lips were back on her body, but this time on her neck. You left heated kisses and bites along her neck and collarbone, dark marks starting to form on her skin. One of Hayley’s hands came to rest on the back of your head, her fingers tangling in your hair as a way to keep your lips on her.
You switched to the other side of her neck to give it the same attention while one of your hands slid to the aussie’s back to unhook her bra. You pulled the material from her body, tossing it aimlessly to the floor. With the item out of your way, to moved your lips down her body with light kisses and nips as you went. When you reached the center of her chest, you moved your head slightly to take one of her nipples into your mouth. 
A loud moan fell from the Australian's mouth, her hand that was in your hair pushed you closer to her body, keeping you as close as possible. You took your time sucking the hardened bud in your mouth before you pulled away with a small “pop.” You placed a quick kiss in between her breasts before giving the other hardened nipple the same attention. 
The rocking of Hayley’s hips had sped up because of your actions, loud moans continually fell from her mouth as she tried to gain some traction where she needed you most. The hand in your hair pulled slighting, pulling you away from her chest into a burning kiss. In between kisses, one of your hands pulled at the drawstrings of the sweatpants the winger was wearing before you started pushing them down her legs. Hayley unwrapped her legs from your body so you could push the sweatpants to her ankles, she kicked them off without a care as to where they landed. 
You pulled away from her mouth to quickly rid yourself of your own pants and you noticed she opted to wear nothing under the sweatpants. You tried to hold back a teasing comment but you loved seeing Hayley react to the things you said. 
“Didn’t wanna waste any time, huh ribbons,” you taunted the Aussie, your annoyingly attractive smirk making its reappearance.
“Shut up,” Hayley groaned, though her groan turned into a moan when you leaned your head down to give one of her breasts a quick nip. 
“Still have that attitude I see,” you said in a sarcastic tone but started moving your body down, trailing kisses down her body as you did so.
“Because you won’t shut up and fuck me,” Hayley’s words stunned you for a moment before you lightly scoffed at her words, You refocused your attention on where she desperately needed you most, your smugness returning when you saw just how wet she was already.
One of Hayley’s hands remained tangled in your hair while the other held her sheets tightly. You left light kisses on the inside of both her thighs as you moved her legs to rest over your shoulders. Hayley’s breathing had picked up in anticipation, waiting for you to finally give her some form of pleasure. 
Your tongue licked up her dripping core, moaning as you tasted her for the first time. The vibrations of you moaning against her had her back arching and her hand pushing you closer. You didn’t hold back as you dove back in, your tongue working quickly and harshly. The grip on your hair tightened as Hayley's moans grew louder. You were thankful for how late it was, hoping that her neighbors were in a deep sleep and wouldn’t be able to hear her.
You moved your mouth up slightly to suck on her clit as your hands wrapped around her thighs. You sucked harshly on the hooded bud, pulling away with loud noises following. Hayley’s hips were once again rocking up for more pleasure, this grinding against your face looking for her release. You didn’t let up as you alternated between sucking on her clit and thrusting your tongue inside her.
Hayley’s legs squeezed around your shoulders as she felt a familiar feeling in her stomach. Between her legs, you could hear her broken moans and pleas of “faster,” “don’t stop,” and “more.” You sped up your movements, desperately wanting to bring her over the edge for the first time that night. The Aussie was moaning your name in what could almost be described as a chant and it drove you crazy that the thoughts you had earlier did become reality.
Hayley’s back arched off the bed and with her eyes tightly closed, she came hard against your mouth. You didn’t slow down, wanting to help her ride out her high but also because you couldn’t get enough of her. 
How you two haven't got this far before, you weren't sure. But now that you’ve been with her and tasted her, you’d be damned if you two didn’t do this more often. Especially since it wasn’t a long journey between your two cities.
With her hand in your hair, Hayley pulled your hair to pull you away from her, too sensitive for you to continue your movements at the moment. She unwrapped her shaking legs from around your shoulders, allowing you to move up her body.
Your lips met hers in a deep kiss, both of you moaning at the taste of her on your lips. Before you could realize what was happening, Hayley had you lying on your back as she straddled your waist. Your head was thrown back as she left her own marks along your neck, not caring that you would have to hide them before returning to the hotel.
Hayley busied herself with stripping you of your underwear before repaying the favor. The winger’s skilled fingers not needing any prep before sliding into your soaked core. Your head was bent back against her pillows as she skillfully moved her fingers in and out of you. Hayley left even more marks on your hips and thighs while thrusting her fingers inside you.
“Hayley, please,” you croaked out, moans filling the rooms once more. Hayley nipped at your skin at your words as her fingers sped up, working on quickly bringing you over the edge.
Having been close just from pleasuring her, it didn’t take long for you to reach your first orgasm. You came around her fingers while she continued her thrusts. Hayley eventually slowed her fingers before pulling them out of you as you whined from the loss of contact. 
You opened your eyes to meet hers just as she lifted her two fingers to her mouth to clean them. Hayley moaned at the taste and you moaned at the sight of her sucking your cum off her fingers. You sat up so you were level with the winger and pulled her into a kiss, though this one was more loving than any other kiss you had shared before.
You two spent the rest of the night pulling orgasm after orgasm from each other. The annoyance you held for each other disappeared with each one and it turned into something different and you were sure the two of you would continue to test this new boundary with each other. You weren’t sure if it would turn into anything romantic or simply stay at having sex but you weren’t complaining. 
You were grateful the team opted to have a rest day in Madrid instead of traveling back to Barcelona the next morning. Otherwise, you would have had to explain why you weren't in the hotel which would have resulted in some form of punishment from the coaching staff and insufferable amounts of teasing from your teammates. You had woken up before Hayley and quickly rushed to get dressed. You left the apartment quickly while trying to order an Uber back to the hotel. When you were situated in the car, you opened Instagram to send the Australian a direct message:
yourinstagram: sorry I had to leave so quickly, had to get back to the hotel before anyone noticed. We should do this again sometime, I don’t think I got rid of your little attitude, ribbons.
305 notes · View notes
slut4msby · 4 months
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i miss you. iwaizumi hajime x reader
+ tags & warnings; pure fluff (for a change) :3
+ a/n; i need myself a hajime iwaizumi (27) athletic trainer so bad rn its not even funny i want him so badly and i could treat him so well, he can take out any stress and/or anger on me pls i love hajime iwaizumi (27) athletic trainer pls let me be like ur pretty little house wife hajime iwaizumi (27) athletic trainer
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“I miss you, Hajime. I miss you so much it’s not even funny. The whole house feels so empty without you here. How has it only been three nights…” You ramble through the phone to your fiance. He had left to go on a work trip to a very important match. You and Iwaizumi both knew there was no way he was getting out of it.
“Mhm? Is that right darling?” He responded, “I wish you were here with me…” Iwaizumi sounded exhausted from the strenuous exercise and work he was doing. You wanted to take care of him like you would always do after his long weeks. Sitting down together, you giving him a back massage, him rambling on about his day. It was one of your favourite intimate moments to spend with your partner. “Laying here with me, in my arms. Kissing me…” 
“Hajime, you get so clingy when you are lonely.” You chuckle. Despite being a tall and well-built masculine man. He was always a massive cutie, and you adored his soft side. It always felt so personal in contrast to the version of Iwaizumi everyone else saw. He cared so much about not only you but everyone. 
“Mhm, can’t help it.” 
“Whatever, you big loser. I’m gonna head to bed now, I’ll talk to you in the morning, yeah?”
“Of course, darling. Sleep well, I love you.”
“I love you too, Haji.”
You hate to admit it but that night was the hardest night yet. Something about how clingy Iwaizumi was tonight sent butterflies to your stomach. Your big beefy boyfriend's weakness was you. His pretty little fiance. Your bed felt empty, lacking the usual warmth from Hajime’s proximity, leaving a noticeable void behind you.
It had now been two nights since that phone call. Your eyes open the next morning, waking up to the familiar tone of the empty house. Despite the day ahead, thoughts of Iwaizumi linger in your mind. You missed him more than ever right now, all you wanted was to feel the embrace of your partner. 
As the evening approaches, you find yourself yearning for the comforting sound of his voice. Dialling his number, you eagerly wait for him to pick up. The exhaustion from his work trip is evident in his tone, but the warmth in his voice brings a sense of relief.
"Hajime, how was your day?" You inquire.
"Long and tiring," he sighs, "but I can't wait to come home."
"I can't wait to see you, Haji. The house feels incomplete without you, I feel incomplete without you" you confess, a genuine sentiment underlying your words.
"I feel the same way, darling. I miss you more than words can express," he admits, his voice softening.
“I need you, Hajime.”
“I know, Y/N. I’m not any better than you.” Hechuckles in a deep, hearty manner.
God his laugh could bring you back from the dead with how it makes your body feel. 
The call ended once again for the fifth night in a row, only two more nights to go. This was the longest amount of time you and Iwaizumi had spent apart from each other since getting together. What you didn;t know was the mental toll it had on Hajime. He had initially anticipated being the strong one in this situation, but in reality, he would willingly abandon any commitment just to be with you at that moment. 
As part of the cycle you wake up again. In an empty bed, once again. Craving the touch of Iwaizumi, craving his presence. You missed waking up to him, even when he was in a deep slumber. His face soft, hair a mess. He looked ethereal, more ethereal than the vacant sheets and pillows that now occupy his usual place. 
You turn and look at your bedside table, on it is a photo frame, a photo of you and Hajime from your high school graduation. The day he had expressed his feelings to you. With a wistful sigh, you trace your fingers along the edge of the frame, reminiscing about the moment captured. As you place the photo down and get up, move out to the kitchen. You stand in front of your coffee machine and stand there as the espresso pours out. Next to the coffee machine sat Iwaizumi’s mug. The mug he would use every morning, as you two would sit cuddled up on the couch before the day started, just sitting and basking in the feeling of being with each other. It was a large blue mug, nothing special but it belonged to Iwaizumi Hajime.
You take your usual seat on the couch, turning on the TV to whatever shitty news station was last left on. You try paying attention to the weather or whatever, she was talking about. Before it moved onto the sports section, more specifically volleyball. You look around at the familiar faces of Hajime’s team, but no sight of Hajime. You were hoping maybe you could catch a glimpse of your boyfriend on the screen, but nothing. You let out a sigh, before taking another sip from the mug in front of you.
You are truly in a world of your own when you get interrupted by the door opening. You had sworn you had locked the door, you freeze still. 
“Goodbye cruel world.” You think to yourself.
“Y/N?” A familiar voice says softly, your head darting around to see someone standing in the doorway, removing his shoes. Not just anyone, your someone. 
“HAJIME?!” You shout with excitement.
Your heart skips a beat as you leap off the couch, abandoning all composure. There, standing in the doorway, is Iwaizumi Hajime – your massive, cutie of a boyfriend who was supposed to be away on a work trip. Disbelief and joy flood your senses as you rush towards him, practically throwing yourself into his waiting arms.
"Hajime, you're back!" you exclaim, your voice a mixture of surprise and delight.
He chuckles, his strong arms wrapping around you in a tight embrace. "Couldn't stay away any longer, could I?"
Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as you pull back slightly to look at him. "But the match? The work trip?"
“I wrapped things up early for you.”
“They let you?” You questioned.
“Told them I was sick.”
“You can’t just lie like that, Hajime.” You say playful hitting his arm.
"Turns out, I couldn't bear to be apart from you either.” He says kissing your head, “and technically not a lie, I was sick of not seeing you, darling.”
A surge of emotions overwhelms you, and you can't help but pepper his face with excited kisses. Iwaizumi responds with laughter, his deep and hearty laugh filling the room. The void that haunted the past nights dissipates, replaced by the warmth of his presence.
He places a gentle kiss on your forehead. "Missed you too much. Couldn't resist coming back to my pretty little fiancée."
As you both settle on the couch, Iwaizumi takes the mug from the coffee table, the familiar blue one he always used. "Missed this mug," he remarks with a smirk.
With a playful eye roll, you reply, "Yeah, well, I missed you using it."
As the TV continues to drone on in the background, you find yourself caught up in the joy of the unexpected reunion. The cycle that seemed endless has been broken, and the empty bed, the vacant mug, and the lingering void are now filled with the presence of Iwaizumi.
©slut4msby.
211 notes · View notes
notsoattractivearenti · 11 months
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1+1 = 4 (Mason Mount x Fem!Reader)
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WC: 3.0K
Warnings: mention of c-section, post-surgery recovery
A/N: i haven’t written anything since last month and i’ve missed writing so here it is... dad!Mason for me and y'all my loves 🥰🫶🏻 apologies if this isn’t so good lol tbh i wrote this for my own comfort cuz it's been an extremely rough few weeks so i kinda needed this and i’m a huge sucker for my faves as attentive partner and dad fics! not to mention this is officially the longest fic I've written + posted here! hope you guys enjoy and i’d love to hear your thoughts thru ask/reply/reblog 💗 apologies for any grammatical errors! feedbacks are highly appreciated 🤍
You just woke up from a short nap after your C-section. Your baby was not supposed to be born for another month, but when your doctor saw the umbilical cord was wrapped around their neck during ultrasound, they told you and Mason that an emergency C-section had to be done the next day before your baby moved to the birth position. You recalled the day it happened.
You were really scared and nervous even though you have given birth before – but your first pregnancy and labor went smoothly so you didn’t exactly anticipate this. Plus, you had never gone through any major surgery your whole life ­– you just were not ready at all. You wanted another vaginal delivery but since the circumstances changed, you didn’t have a choice and all you cared about was your little one coming into the world safe and sound.
Mason was scared too, but he tried to conceal it from you. He just knew he had to be by your side all the time, as you were about to go through another life-changing moment but not as you planned. He was worried about the baby but even more about you ­– he felt so helpless because he basically couldn’t do anything but be there for you. If he could, he would make himself be the one who bears the pain instead of you.
On the way home after the checkup, you sat in the passenger seat and just silently stared at the road with your hand resting on top of your belly – subconsciously rubbing it sometimes – while thinking about the sudden news. Mason noticed how quiet you were, and as he drove he grabbed your hand to hold it tight.
“My dear, everything will be okay,” he said softly, “little peanut will be just fine. So will you.”
You sighed. “Maybe you’re right, but Mase...” Your voice was shaky, “I’m terrified. I really am...”
He took his eyes off the road for a second to glance at you, then kissed your hand and rubbed it with his thumbs repeatedly.
“I know, Y/N. But you’re the strongest person I’ve ever known and you’re going to get through this like the badass you are.” He assured you.
“And I will be with you the entire time and take care of you. I promise.” He added.
You smiled a little, still nervous but way less than before. You knew he was also worried yet he still gave you the comfort you needed. That is one of the things about Mason that made you fall in love with him in the first place.
“Also, picture how excited Gem will be when she finds out she’s going to meet her baby sibling soon!”
Before Mason even finished his sentence, the possible scenario was already playing in your head. You looked back to the time you and Mason broke the news to Gemma, your 4 year-old daughter – she screamed then cried out of happiness. She has been so excited to have a little sister or brother since and kept asking when will the baby be born. You could clearly imagine how she would react this time.
“Oh God,” you put your hand on your forehead and jokingly groaned, “she’s going to scream her ass off again isn’t she?”
He shook his head playfully and laughed. “Well that’s my daughter alright!”
During the surgery, Mason was sitting next to you the whole time, not wanting to let go of your hand. You were fully conscious since you had regional anesthesia, and to distract yourself from your anxious thoughts you and Mason chatted about the most random things – and it helped calming you down.
You both decided not to find out about your baby’s sex just like when you were pregnant with Gemma. Of course you two were curious, but you wanted to surprise yourselves. A boy or a girl, it doesn't really matter because you will love the baby regardless of the sex.
Suddenly, you both heard the sound of your baby’s cry. The doctor lifted them up so you two could see and excitedly announced, “Congratulations, it’s a girl!”
You and Mason had your mouths wide open and looked at each other immediately once you knew you had another daughter. She came to join your little family sooner than expected, but she was healthy and all your worry was gone in an instant. Mason kissed your forehead and your lips, then whispered to your ears, “Thank you baby, I’m so proud of you.”
The nurse then brought the baby to you so you could see her up close. She put her next to your face, and you could feel tears of happiness streaming down your face – the presence of your newborn girl warmed your heart.
“Hi baby girl,” you tearfully greeted your daughter, “welcome to the world! Mommy loves you so much.”
Mason watched that moment and he was left speechless. He couldn’t stop smiling and crying as he couldn’t find the words to describe the overwhelming joy and immense love he felt at the moment. He was still processing the fact that he had another girl to love for the rest of his life. As he wiped his tears, he quietly whimpered in awe, “she’s so precious… My little peanut.”
As you woke up from your nap post surgery, you could feel the anesthesia started to wear off. You moaned and pressed your lips together over the pain you felt on the incision area. You couldn’t really get up because when you tried to move even a little bit, it would hurt so bad. You looked around the hospital room you were in and you saw Mason sitting on the sofa near the window while holding your newborn daughter.
He didn’t take his eyes off of her even for a second, you could tell he was so in love. This reminded you of the day when Gemma was just born – once he held her in his arms, his eyes were locked on her.
You couldn’t stop staring at him as you found this moment so heartwarming and adorable. He then took a quick look at you and when he saw you were awake, a wide smile appeared on his face.
“Oh look, Mommy’s awake,” he said as he got off the sofa to come over to you, “how are you feeling sweetheart?”
“Uh… pain...” You muttered. “But don’t worry, I’m okay.”
“Oh no… I’m sorry, Y/N.” He knitted his eyebrows, the tone of his voice showed how worried he really was. “Tell me what I can do to help ease it. I’ll do anything to make you feel better.”
You smiled as his hand was stroking your arm.
“Thank you love,” you said to Mason, “but let’s just wait for the nurse. With you two here with me right now I can handle this pain.”
“By the way… Can you stop hogging my baby and hand her over to her mom?” You jokingly asked him.
“Oops, sorry!” He laughed while gently putting her on your side.
Few hours later, the nurse suggested you get out of bed and try walking around for a bit. Even though you were still experiencing discomfort, you gladly took her suggestion as you didn’t like laying in the bed for too long. Mason, who wasn’t fond of the idea, expressed his concern to the nurse.
“Ma’am, are you sure it’s okay? The wound on my wife’s stomach is still fresh… Isn’t it too soon?”
“Sir, I get your concern and I can guarantee you it is necessary as it is a part of the recovery. Moving around after the surgery helps the recovery process. Don’t need to worry, we’ll check in on you every so often. If you need anything, you can call us by pushing the button next to the bed.” The nurse explained to both of you in a calm manner.
Mason sighed in relief and nodded.
“Thank you,” you said to the nurse, “this is my first time going through a C-section and my husband and I have been very anxious about it. Not to mention this was unplanned so we didn’t exactly come prepared.”
“Understandable. It is normal to feel nervous, Ma’am. We are happy to help.” The nurse acknowledged your worries.
As soon as the nurse left the room, you tried to get out of bed and grimaced while one of your hands was on your wound area. Mason was getting you a glass of water when he saw you – fright was written all over his face immediately.
“Baby!” He spontaneously yelled as he rushed over to your side and helped you. out.
“Ssshh, Mase, I’m alright,” you put your arm around his neck and tried to soothe him, “just want to get up, that's all.”
“Don’t be so stubborn!” He was shaking a little – he felt a genuine fear. “My God, Y/N, you almost gave me a heart attack.”
“Oh please, don’t be a drama queen,” you couldn’t help but make fun of his reaction. “I said I’m alright, hahaha!”
He playfully rolled his eyes in response. You laughed at him and suddenly felt stabbing pain on your wound.
“Ouch!” You shouted. “Man, I can't even laugh without feeling pain!”
“Well, I’m glad you were amused but I guess no more comedy for a while for you, Mrs. Mount.” he said as he stroked your back.
Mason gently supported your body and carefully assisted you on taking your first steps post surgery. You squeezed your eyes, ground your teeth and winced as you were still experiencing the sharp pain – especially when you moved. Mason’s heart ached seeing you struggling like this, he felt guilty even but he knew nothing else he could do but support you throughout the recovery.
“Don’t rush it, sweetheart. It hasn’t been 12 hours after the surgery,” he emphasized. “Just take one little step at the time when you’re ready, okay?”
“Baby, Gem is coming here with my parents!” He excitedly shouted from across the room.
Your eyes widened and a squeal left your mouth when you heard that Gemma was coming. As you were in the hospital, Mason’s parents were taking care of her. You have been looking forward to the moment when your girls finally met. She had been impatiently waiting to be able to hold her baby sibling – she even practiced with her doll all the time. 
At this point you could stand up, walk, and sit down. The incision still hurt and discomfort came and went all the time but the painkiller was working well and the bliss of having a newborn was able to distract your mind from the pain. Mason had been so attentive to you and always ready to help you. He thought you needed a day to rest, therefore with your permission he respectfully asked everyone – except your parents and siblings – not to pay a visit at the hospital and wait until you all settled at your home instead. 
“Where is Gem now? Is she close? Are they here already?” You eagerly asked.
“I don’t know,” he answered, “I’ll call my mum.”
And before he even pressed call, Debbie texted him to let him know they just arrived at the hospital. He was beaming when he saw the text, and passed the news to you.
“They’re here! I’ll go get them,” he said as he kissed your forehead and got out to pick them up.
Trying not to hurt yourself, you didn’t act too excited on the outside but you sure were within. Sitting down on your bed, you pulled the baby crib closer and carefully picked her up.
“Hey little angel,” you whispered softly into her tiny ear, “you’re about to meet your big sister. She’s been waiting for you… You’re going to love her as much as she loves you.”
She made a slight smile and you noticed that. You chuckled, you thought it was like she was also excited to meet Gemma. You gave little kisses all over her cute face, and as you did that you could feel how you were completely filled with great love and glee – one more girl has stolen your heart. 
Suddenly, you heard the door was opened, followed by a little giggle you love so much. Your heart was beating really fast – it was going to be one of the biggest moments in your life – you didn’t know if you could handle your emotions when it happened.
You saw Gemma walking in with one hand holding her dad’s and the other covering her mouth. She looked so eager to finally see her baby sibling – she didn’t know it was a girl beforehand – and you wanted to see how she reacted when she found out she had a sister. Behind them were Debbie and Tony, and Debbie had already started recording with Mason’s phone. Gemma then saw you and excitedly yelled, “Mommy!”
You giggled and waved at her in response. 
“Do you want to sit next to Mommy and baby peanut, Gem?” Mason gently asked her.
“Yes Daddy! I want to see my baby peanut now!” She responded impatiently.
Mason picked her up and sat her down next to you. When she saw her sister up close, she squealed and said “Wow, baby peanut is so small and cute!”
You introduced your firstborn to your newborn.
“Gemma, meet Iris…”
She gasped and looked at both you and Mason in disbelief.
“You have a sister, Gem!” Mason cheered.
Gemma was so happy to have a sister and she started to cry. You might have pictured this beautiful moment in your head before but what really happened was a lot better than you had imagined. It was quite overwhelming to see how emotional she was and you eventually cried as well. Mason was really touched, almost shed a tear when he saw how you and Gemma were crying. He immediately grabbed some tissues from his pocket – he was aware this was going to happen – to wipe the tears off his girls’ faces.
“Mommy… Can I hold Iris?” Gemma nervously asked, her big brown eyes were still watery but you could see the sparkles of joy in them.
“Of course, sweetie.”
You carefully handed Iris onto Gemma’s lap, teaching her how to support Iris’ little body. She was so gentle and cautious, uneasy at first as if she was afraid to hurt Iris. Mason tried to ease her since he got how nervous Gemma was – he kissed the top of her head over and over again while assuring her that she was doing fine holding her sister – and it worked out even though it took a while.
Finally feeling comfortable, Gemma gently let go of one of her hands and started caressing Iris’ cheeks. Her eyes were locked in just like his dad earlier, and you just knew she was so deeply in love with her little sister. 
“She’s so beautiful, isn’t she, Gem?” Mason was beaming in awe and Gemma nodded in agreement.
Both Gemma and Mason showered Iris with kisses. The immense amount of love Iris was getting made your heart soar. You looked at your husband and your girls and thought to yourself: how did I get so lucky?
Mason then gave you a quick but passionate kiss on your lips. He looked deeply into your eyes and expressed his gratitude and appreciation for you.
“Y/N, the way you had to bear the pain to bring me two amazing kids to our life is unbelievable. You are the most incredible woman and I can never thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me, for us… I’m so lucky to have you as my wife and the mother of our girls. I will always try to make you happy, feel loved and give you everything you need and deserve because you have given me the life I’ve always dreamed of…”
You had no words and were about to cry again. You pulled him closer and pressed your lips against his – it was a moment full of tenderness and sweet affection. As your lips parted, you two whispered “I love you” to one another.
Debbie – who was still recording – and Tony were also emotional although they were trying to keep themselves together because they thought they didn’t want to ruin the beautiful moment between your little family. You then asked the grandparents to come see the newest addition to the Mount family.
“Iris Mount… Such a beautiful name, Y/N!” Tony complimented.
“That’s perfect for her! Thank you, Y/N, for giving us wonderful grandkids!” Debbie chimed in and gave you a hug.
“Uh, Mum… I contributed too, you know. Why don’t I get a thank-you? ” Mason jokingly protested.
“Yes but you weren’t the one who carried them for months and gave birth, were you?” Debbie lightheartedly replied.
You chuckled at their banter – you held yourself back from laughing as usual because it would hurt you.
With his mother clearly winning the argument, Mason humorously backed out, pouted then stated his closing statement.
“That’s true. But Y/N and I do make the most beautiful babies.”
Debbie and Tony couldn’t help but laugh at his comeback.
Yes, he might not be the one who was pregnant and given birth, but he has always been an amazing and present father to Gemma. No matter how tight his schedule could be, he would always make time for her daughter. He might have missed a few milestones that happened unexpectedly but other than those he never wanted to miss out so much on his daughter’s life. When he was out of town for away games, he always asked for daily updates on Gemma and called you on Facetime in every chance he got.
Mason is an ultimate girl dad and takes great pride in it. He would dress up as princess wearing a tiara and Gemma’s little dress that barely fits him and have a tea party with her, buy a makeup set she asked for, and sometimes he would show up at training wearing a headband with the biggest bow on his head because Gemma put it on him before he left. He always said he loves being a girl dad and would do it all over again – now he really gets to do it all over again…
taglist: @pulisicsgirl @neverinadream @masonspulisic @swimmingismywholelife @chelseagirl98 @bracedes @lovelynikol16 @thoseboysinblue @lizzypotter14 @mortirolo @masonsrem
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softestqueeen · 6 months
Text
red roses and deadly promises
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pairing: Zade Meadows x fem!reader
summary: When your stalker, Zade Meadows, has to do some business out of town, someone new makes an unwelcome appearance. How will Zade react when someone tries to steal you away from him?
warnings: 18+ MDNI!!!! stalking, cunnilingus, blow job, face fucking, attempted rape, dom/sub, pet names, death, murder, body parts, rough sex, knife play, dirty talking, aftercare, p in v sex, breeding, creampie, stabbing
wordcount: 10.658 (lol)
a/n: I think there is not enough haunting adeline fanfiction out there, so here you go! btw I don’t know what happened I only wanted to write about 7k words…. anyways enjoy <3
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It had been going on for a while.
It started out with harmless flowers paired with deadly promises. Whenever you got home there would be a bouquet of fresh red roses waiting for you. Hanging from it: a note. It wasn’t always the same, but it always went along of the lines of You’re mine, if anyone ever touches you, they’ll die, you’re so beautiful, I love watching you, etc.
The first time you received a bouquet of red roses, the note read:
You’re so beautiful, I love watching you my little mouse. Can’t wait to play with you. Don’t even try to go to the police, it will change nothing. Love, Z
You were scared shitless. You didn’t know what to do. Even though the mysterious stalker told you not to go to the police it seemed like the most logical option. You didn’t want to ask your best friend, as to not worry her too much. She already didn’t like the fact that you moved into your grandmas old “haunted” house that was literally in the middle of nowhere, so the only logical thing for you was to wait. Wait what his – you assumed it was a man - next move was or if he maybe would even stop.
But actually, quite the opposite happened. The roses came more often, even inside of the house while you were there. Sometimes they were in the kitchen when you wanted to eat breakfast or in your bathroom, which could only be accessed through your bedroom or through the window, which is almost too small for a frown man to get through. You found them in rooms you normally wouldn’t go in. Your grandmother’s old study, in the attic, behind doors that were so dusty, you had to wear a mask before entering, scared you would inhale too much of it.
And still, you could be sure in almost every room in your house was a bouquet of red roses waiting for you.
After a few weeks you suddenly felt a shift. You weren’t as scared anymore but rather felt a weird sense of comfort anytime you got something from him. You knew he wouldn’t let anybody hurt you. He protected you like no one ever did and even protected you from himself. Alone the memory of that note made wetness pool in your panties.
I wish I could come to you little mouse. I live to protect you. No man will ever lay a hand on you, be sure of it. But protecting you also means protecting you from me. I wish I could come to you and ruin you, make you my slut and my good girl. I want to be the cat that fetches you and eats you alive, little mouse, seeing the life draining out of your eyes. Every time I, watch you undress, or watch you showering, rubbing yourself with soap, letting it glide over your skin… I’m always so fucking tempted to take you right then and there, especially when I catch you touching yourself. But I will have to wait. I don’t want to ruin your innocence. Yet. I’ll see you soon little mouse. Love, Z
It was the longest note you’ve ever received. You know you shouldn’t, but you’ve read it over and over. It was not just a note, it was a letter. A love letter, a deranged and sick love letter. But a love letter, nevertheless.
And if you were being honest with yourself, you could see yourself falling for him. You knew it was oh so wrong but that just made it oh so much more appealing. A forbidden love to your stalker who you thought may love you even more.
It had been a cold autumn day, and you were very much looking forward to cuddling up with a book under a blanket, drinking warm tea and enjoying the new season from the inside. Maybe even curl up in your grandmothers old rocking chair, that brought you so much comfort.
Entering your home, you indulged in the warmth and comfort of it. You went into the kitchen, expecting another bouquet of red roses with a note hanging from one of the stems. But nothing could have prepared you for what you actually saw.
Your kitchen had a long window that went along the whole length of it and had a beautiful view of the garden and the woods behind it, that seemed to go on forever. There were curtains, but you never used them, rather enjoying the warm sunlight and how it brightened up the room.
In this situation you weren’t sure if you were grateful for the full view of the garden. Because there was a tall figure standing in the woods, but still in a way that he knew you saw him. And he was looking directly at you.
Was that Z? Was that your stalker? Is that really the man who haunted not just your nightmares but also your wet dreams?
You couldn’t see much of him, only that he must be very tall. Probably even a foot taller than you. You had to admit, you were scared. Of course, you knew that there was a real person behind Z but seeing him was definitely something else. It wasn’t just a silly game anymore it was serious now.
You were frozen on the spot and didn’t dare move. You remained in the same spot, even when you noticed that he was now moving towards you.
Again, you didn’t move a muscle but rather concentrated on the details that came now into view. He creeped closer and closer, and you could now see that he was wearing a balaclava or a scarf that covered his nose and mouth. But his eyes told you all that you needed to know.
His eyes were beautiful, even though his right eye was adorned with a massive scar. The scar didn’t take away the beauty of him though, his eye almost white and the unscared one was a beautiful and rich blue.
He came to a stop in front of the window and looked into your eyes. For a moment you were just standing there, gazing into each others’ eyes. And in this moment, you completely forgot that you were looking at your stalker for the first time. You were so lost in the eyes of the stranger you seemed to know so well.
You’ve never felt this connection with someone, though you’ve also never been stalked. Was this a sick variant of Stockholm-Syndrome? Were you going insane? Because you definitely felt like it.
He broke the stillness of the scene and put his hand against the window, looking at you in a way that made your knees go weak. You took a hesitant step forward, planning on putting your hand to his.
He looked at you expectantly, still with his hand to the glass. You reached your hand out and covered his big hand with your smaller one. At the thought of what these hands are capable of, a shiver ran down your spine.
You both waited for the other to pull away, but both of your hands remained on the window. You looked into each others’ eyes, waiting for some truth to be revealed but it remained peacefully quiet.
Unfortunately, all good things must come to an end, and he pulled away. He took out a rose from his back pocket, attached to it one of his infamous notes. He put the rose on the windowsill on the outside of the window, sent you a wink with his blue eye and then turned around and walked away, not honouring you of another glance.
The moment he disappeared into the woods, you snapped out of it and ran into the back yard. You couldn’t see him anymore, still you ran until you felt like you were about to pass out, the adrenaline slowly leaving your system.
You went back to the house and took the rose with you, deciding that you would read the note while you were waiting for the tea water to boil. You put the kettle on the stove, a light tremor in your hand.
You put the singular rose in a glass of water before taking the note out of its envelope.
I can’t wait to see you in real life and not just through the cameras. I know you’ve installed some to catch me, but I have also placed some to catch you in my trap, little mouse. Till we see each other again Love, Z
He did WHAT now?? He placed cameras in your house?! You were conflicted. You knew you couldn’t really remove them (if you even found them) because you were sure he’d just place new ones. But in a way you also felt comforted and safe because you now knew he was always watching you and keeping you safe. Yes, you were aware of how weird that sounded but for you it felt so right.
Oh boy, what did you get yourself into?
After the window incident the letters and roses slowed down a bit. If you were being honest, you were a bit nervous. Did he lose interested now that he saw you? Did he not think you were pretty enough to be with someone as handsome as him? You didn’t know what to do. Even though the flowers and notes still came, it felt different.
‘Fuck. My. Life.’, Zade Meadows thought to himself. How was he supposed to get you out of his head now that he had seen you up close. You were the most gorgeous woman he had ever seen and now he knew he just had to have you. He didn’t care how long it took but he was going to get you and he would never let you go again. You drove him absolutely wild. The way you looked at him, the mix of fear, intrigue and slight arousal made it hard (no pun intended) for him not to break into your house and fuck you right then and there on the kitchen floor, against the counter and on a chair with you on his lap.
Unfortunately, things were not that easy. You were so young compared to him and seemed so innocent, looking at him like a dear in headlights. He had seen the worst things the world had to offer and also committed some of the worst crimes one could imagine. He didn’t want you to find out that he was such a monster. He wanted to be a good man for you, but he also knew that that was impossible due to his mission.
Yes, he wanted to rid the world from all the pigs that were walking around, and molesting kids left and right. In the beginning the reason for it was that he just wanted the world to be a better place and that no one had to go through the things he had to go through. But now he had a new reason that was way more important to him.
He wanted to make the world a better place for you. He knew that you would be a lot safer once all these horrible people have gotten what they deserved. And he also wanted the world to be a better place for your future children. Fuck, once he had you, he wanted to start a family with you. He knew how dangerous that was due to his profession but once all these assholes have been erased, no children would come to harm anymore. And if there were new ones, he would do the same thing to them. Whatever it took to keep you and your future children safe.
What was wrong with him, why was he thinking about starting a family with you? He had never felt that way about someone. Since he saw you at that book signing, he couldn’t get you out of his fucking mind. You were intelligent, clever, and witty. He read your books over and over before he decided that he needed more than your words.
After he saw you in that kitchen and knew that you saw him too, he had to take a step back. He was coming too close to the point of no return. He knew that there was a line he couldn’t cross yet, and he was literally about to step over it. He sent you less flowers and less notes, hoping that would ease his lust.
Spoiler: it didn’t.
He was completely clueless and out of control. He felt so helpless when it came to you, even though he also knew how much control he had over you. It was the hardest thing he ever had to do in his life: staying away from you.
The only thing he wanted to do was hold you, kiss you, fuck you, and completely ruining you. He would turn his little mouse into his perfect little slut. Into his good girl. He couldn’t wait.
Thank God, a few weeks later the letters and flowers went back to normal. He didn’t tell you in his letters – you started calling them letters because they have gotten way longer in the last few weeks – why he suddenly wrote you less, but you didn’t care now that it was back to normal.
There weren’t any other occurrences with him, and you got out of your house more. You finished a new book – ironically a mafia stalker romance novel – and were now giving signings here and there, mostly at local bookstores though. You loved interacting with your fans and to see them enjoy the books you’ve written.
You were signing books at a bookstore that was a bit further away from your town. You didn’t think much of it and were just excited about being able to talk to more of your fans. The bookshop was stuffed and the line for the book signing seemed endless. The fact that you loved to talk to your fans didn’t help that either.
After saying goodbye to yet another fan you looked up to greet the next person in line. Your mouth fell open in shock at the sight presented to you. There was your stalker, still with mask but at least he was there. You almost didn’t believe your eyes.
He mustered you with curious eyes, scanning your whole body before he looked into your eyes again. He put your (!) book on the table, one of his signature red roses used as a bookmark. You gulped before you opened the book at the marked page. You almost let out a laugh at the scene. It was the scene where the male main character confessed his love to the female main character. Afterwards followed a very unholy spicy scene. Was he suggesting something?
he took the book out of your hand, his fingers brushing yours. They were cold from what you could tell, and you had to keep yourself from taking his hands in yours and warming them. He flipped to the front page where you would normally place your signature.
But instead of an empty page there was a note.
You look so pretty, sitting there and signing your books. I’m watching you, always. No matter where you are no one will ever get to have you except from me. Thank God, there are almost no male fans of yours, I’d hate to get my hands dirty. Love, Z
He looked at you while you read the note, looking as relaced as ever while you were losing your shit. You didn’t know how to react or what to say. You didn’t have to wait long though, because he did the most unexpected thing you could have imagined.
“See you next time, little mouse.”, he whispered into your ear, having leaned slightly forward so you could feel his breath on your face. It’s a good thing you were sitting down right now, because you were sure that if you were standing your feet would have given in.
You had never heard his voice before, but now that you had you were addicted. It was deep, rich and he had said these few words with a little rasp that drove you insane. You had read about such voices in romance novels before, but you would have never deemed it possible to experience it.
You knew that this was a cliché, but he smelled so manly. His intoxicating scent a mix of tobacco, wood, and musk with a hint of leather. You knew this man was going to be the death of you.
He leaned back, took the book again and left the bookstore without looking back. The rose was still laying on the desk and you quickly put it into your bag before greeting the next fan. The rest of the signing went by in a blur because all you could think about was the voice of your mysterious stalker.
How were you supposed to keep on living a normal life knowing how his eyes looked, staring into yours, how his voice sounded like and how his breath fanned against your face so delicately. How were you supposed to life when all that you could think about was his smell and how much you would like it to cling to you and your bedsheets. After the book signing it was getting quieter again and you haven’t gotten something from him in a few days. You didn’t worry too much though, knowing he was probably strong enough to defend himself.
Upon hearing a knock on the door, you enter the hallway. You did not have to open the door, to see the package your stalker left you, as it lay on your side of the door. That was weird, he had never left you anything that was not roses. You could feel a shiver running down your spine at the thought of your stalker returning to you and entering your house without you noticing it.
As you hadn’t heard from your stalker in a few days, this was a highly anticipated package. You made a few steps towards the box and noticed a note on top of it. It read:
Well, if this isn’t my new doll. I’m definitely looking forward to playing with you, bunny. Don’t even try to hop away from me, you can’t get rid of me. I’ll see you around, but you won’t see me. Anonymous
Your blood ran cold as you realised what that message meant. You went to the kitchen, forgetting about the still unopened package. You opened one of your kitchen drawers, revealing a pile of about three dozen notes. They were all signed from your stalker with the same letter. Z
Your worst fear was now confirmed. You had a new stalker. The mysterious Anonymous did write about being excited for his ‘new doll’ and called you bunny, even though you knew Z always called you his little mouse.
You panicked. Where did Z go? Is he okay? Who is your new stalker? Who even is Z? What would happen next?
Suddenly you remembered the package that was still waiting for you to open it.
You went back to the door, nervous about what could be in it. You knelt down on the floor and slowly opened it. The box was quite big, but what lay inside wasn’t. A wave of nausea rolled over you at what lay in that box.
It was a pair of eyes.
Real, human eyes. They were beautiful, dark brown with specks of green in them, but this was not the right moment to think about these things. There was till blood on them, and their optic nerve was still hanging on them. It almost felt as if they were watching you.
You wanted to close the box again but found yourself being unable to do so. You were shocked by what you saw. Whose eyes where that?
But before you could close it, you saw another message.
Now that your lame excuse of a stalker is out of town, he sent this scumbag to do the job. But no one is worthy enough to look at you except for me. Don’t worry Zade is the next one on my list. Anonymous
You froze. Z stood for Zade? Your stalker name was Zade? You were shocked that you found it out like this. It was a beautiful name though and seemed to fit him quite well if your being honest.
Anyways, at the thought of him getting hurt, your blood ran cold. You cared more for him than you liked to admit and knowing you could do nothing to protect him made you feel useless.
Zade Meadows was currently in Washington, wrapping up some business and trying to get a few high politicians behind bars. He hated leaving you alone, but he couldn’t reveal himself to you completely yet and take you with him, so you had to stay home.
He didn’t tell you he was leaving but thought you would notice the lack of notes and roses. He couldn’t leave you completely alone though, so he sent one of his best men to look over you during his absence. René Bellucci. He made it clear that if René were to even think about you being anything more than a mission, he would take care of him himself.
The way the man gulped and nodded, Zade knew there was nothing to worry about. So, he commanded René to send him a daily report of what you were doing and if anything happened to you, he was to tell Zade immediately, no matter what time it was.
After he scared and instructed René he could attend his business trip in peace. But of course, it wouldn’t go like he planned. He was able to get all the congressmen and politicians he wanted behind bars for now, but before he could enjoy his victory, he wanted to check on you.
He took out the burner phone that was specifically for these updates and turned it on. But to his surprise there were no new notifications. The update should have come about an hour ago, so a delay was out of question.
His heartbeat picked up. He immediately called René to see what was going on, but he immediately got to his voice mail.
Something was very wrong.
He took out his secret laptop to check on the cameras he (not so) secretly installed in your house. He knew it was wrong, but so was everything he did when it came to you.
He opened the laptop and typed in the password to access the camera feed. And there you were.
He let out a breath he didn’t realise he was holding at seeing you safe and sound. But when he looked a bit closer, he could see how shaken you were. He immediately turned on the microphones and listened to what you were saying.
“This- This can’t be. Fuck, what am I supposed to do now? Where is he?”, he almost couldn’t hear you because you were whispering these things to yourself. His muscles were taut as he tried to find out what was wrong.
Zade currently watched you through the life feed, where he couldn’t see anything suspi- Wait, was that a package? He quickly went to the feed of your hall and zoomed in. The package was closed but it seemed like you already opened it, so he went to see what had happened in the minutes before.
He rewound the recording and saw you taking a note to the kitchen. You read it quietly to yourself, but it was still loud enough for Zade to hear it. His blood started boiling at what he heard. A new stalker? Definitely not. The celebrations for today where cancelled.
The recording kept on going and he saw you return to the package. You knelt down and opened it, revealing a pair of eyes? What the fuck? Again, he could hear your small voice reading the letter.
Oh oh.
That weren’t just any eyes. That were Renés eyes. Fuck.
How could that have happened? He should have known that such a beautiful woman wouldn’t be alone for long. Still, he always thought that he would stalk you and maybe in the long run reveal himself and claim you as his. But he wouldn’t have thought it possible that someone else was suddenly trying to take his place in such an extreme way.
Rage overcame him as he thought about this other man watching you and entering your house. He had to get to you. As fast as possible. Now.
He left his things behind, asking his assistant to pack them and take them with her when she went back the next day. He jumped in the car, roared the motor to life and drove like his life depended on it. And it did. You were his life and without you he had no reason to live.
Honestly, you were scared. You didn’t know what to do with the eyes, neither did you know what to do with the knowledge of having a new stalker.
Suddenly you heard something. It was an old house, so you often heard weird noises, but this noise didn’t come from nowhere. There was someone in your house. You were scared. You didn’t know what to do but wait for another indication of the intruder.
You heard a floorboard creaking, this time way closer to you. You took out a big kitchen knife, holding it with both hands and bracing yourself for what was to come.
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest, your heartbeat loud in your ear. You could have fainted from the suspense. You prayed that this was Z or Zade in your house and not this new guy.
Why were you such a stalker magnet?
You didn’t know what to do. You could hear the footsteps clearer now, knowing that that meant they were coming closer. You had closed the door behind you when you re-entered the kitchen, so you couldn’t see the person behind it. But maybe that was for the better.
Suddenly the footsteps stopped behind the door. It was silent except for your heavy breaths. You could see the doorknob turning and the door being opened. You looked at the intruder in disbelief, dropping the knife in shock.
Zade had never driven this fast and reckless in his life. The only thing that mattered to him right now was that you were safe. He didn’t know what was happening right now at your house, but he would soon find out.
The fact that he didn’t know what was happening stressed him even more. He couldn’t even call René, because he was dead. He almost forgot about that. Though he was glad that the man didn’t have any family waiting for him at home. To be honest, most of the people that worked for him didn’t belong anywhere else, and he was always glad he could give them a home.
But he had to concentrate on 1) getting as fast to you as possible 2) driving carefully so he didn’t injure someone else or even himself, though he would have tried to get you even if he had been shot in the chest 3) distracting himself from the images of you getting hurt by someone other than him, that were currently going through his mind.
He was pressing down on the gas pedal as hard as he could, not caring at the people honking at him. The only thing that mattered to him right now was you.
You were still standing frozen in place in the middle of the kitchen.
You were standing face to face with a man that was definitely not Zade. He was slightly smaller, both of his eyes were dark brown, reminding you of the eyes that lay just a few meters away still in the box, but the one thing that you noticed right away was the lack of scar.
Zade had a beautiful scar that ran over his eye, giving his look a dangerous edge. But this man did not look like that at all.
And that could only mean one thing. That was your new stalker. Well, it could also be a random man who wanted to rob you, but due to the circumstances you ruled that one out.
“Well, if that isn’t my new bunny.”, the mysterious man told you, revealing a significant part of his identity. And yup, that was definitely your new stalker.
You turned around and started running. You just ran deeper into the house, but you knew it so well by now that you could find your away around it blind. After a moment you heard a second pair of footsteps echoing through the house, meaning the man was now trying to catch you.
You had dreamed of this moment before, your stalker running after you, chasing you through the halls and rooms you knew so well. But you imagined Z chasing you. You felt like you could trust Z, but you couldn’t be sure of the man currently running after you.
Your mind was going even faster than your feet, trying to find a way out of the house and into freedom, but it seemed almost impossible to achieve.
You almost didn’t hear it over the volume of your thoughts, but the second pair of feet had stopped. You did now the same, catching your breath and trying to think of your next move. You were almost at the door and if you were lucky, you could just slip out, jump in the car, and drive as fast as you could. But of course, it wasn’t that easy.
You felt a pair of hands gripping your waist pulling you back and against a hard chest. Before a scream could escape you, a hand covered your mouth.
“Gotcha, bunny!”, you could hear him whispering in your ear. You let out a scared whimper that was immediately muffled by his hand.
He grabbed your waist a bit rougher, pulling you into a small closet, that had blinds on their door, making it possible to look out of it but impossible to see inside. You had an ugly idea where this was going.
“Your little boyfriend is probably already on his way here. It feels like it didn’t take him long to figure out that I killed his little henchman.”, he told you with a grin evident in his voice, before adding, “I sent you his eyes, bunny. I hoped you liked your present. Did you like it bunny?”
You only whimpered at his question, now feeling the barrel of a gun against you instead of the hand that was gripping your waist.
The thought of Z being on his way to you and possibly saving you made your heart skip a beat. But you couldn’t trust your heart right now because it could also be out of rhythm because of the gun that was currently pointed at you.
He pulled it away for a second and kicked you in the knee. The action made you unsteady for a second but that was enough to get a hold of both of your arms and tying them together with a rope. He put his hand over your lips again before you could hear the sound of a zipper.
He pressed his hips against your ass, and you could feel something hard pressing against you that was definitely not the gun.
He leaned down to your ear again, his breath brushing unpleasantly against your skin.
“Your little boyfriend is going to come in here any moment and you’re not going to make a single noise while I rape that little pussy of yours. I’m going to pump you full of my seed, so you’ll be stuck with me forever.”, he let out a dark chuckle before pressing against you again. You could feel that he freed his dick from his pants and was now humping against your ass, that was still dressed in the jeans you wore from the day.
Like he had predicted it you could suddenly hear tires squeaking against the road and a car halting abruptly. You heard the car door opening and closing and rapid footsteps coming closer and closer.
“Be quiet for me, bunny. Let him search for you while I mark you as mine.”, he warned you before you heard banging against the door.
“Little mouse? Can you hear me? Are you alright?”, you heard a muffled voice through the door before the banging continued.
“Not a single sound.”, the man behind you reminded you.
The banging continued before it abruptly stopped. What was happening? Did he leave you now that you needed him the most? You heard him walking away and open a car door. You heard it close again and thought he would leave you alone now. Alone to fend for yourself against a man that you had no chance against.
But suddenly you heard footsteps on the front porch again. Could it be possible that he opened the trunk to get something? And really, you could hear a kind of metallic banging before the door gave in and came crashing down.
You could see someone enter and when he turned to the closet you could see his face. It was Z. He came to safe you.
Theres nothing you’d rather do than scream out and tell him where you are. He was so close, but because he could not look inside of the closet he was also so far away.
Since he came into view you had been holding your breath. You were starting to feel a little bit lightheaded, so you breathed in through your nose.
Zade stopped for a second and looked into your direction, being under the impression he heard someone breathing. He quickly turned away again, seeing nothing but the walk-in closet.
He went into the kitchen and calling out your name, but to no avail. He couldn’t find you.
You had to be home, he saw your car in the driveway and there were none of the shoes missing. He stepped on the package while he was in the hallway. Not that he was in the kitchen and saw the notes, picking them up and reading them again. He could feel the blood boiling under his skin, the urge to murder this mysterious man was growing by the second.
How fucking dare he?
He started running through the house, calling your name, frantically searching for any sign that you could be alive. He went back to the kitchen where he noticed something.
There was a knife on the floor. How did it get there. The drawer where you have taken the knife out of, was still half opened. Did the guy break into your house and you wanted to defend yourself? Now he was really fucking scared about what could have happened to you. He just hoped you were still alive. If not, his hands would be drenched with that scumbag’s blood by the end of the night.
You saw him re-enter the kitchen after he went around the house and screamed you name, sounding more desperate by the minute.  Your kidnapper was still humping against you and unbeknownst to you was thinking of a way to remove your trousers without making any noise or removing his hands from you.
You were panicking, tears streaming down your face, waiting for something to happen. After Z went into the kitchen, he went quiet, which made you even more nervous. What were you supposed to do? What would happen if he would leave? What would happen if he thought you were not here anymore?
Would you get raped by a stranger and because of that maybe even get abandoned by the man you grew to love? You could feel the frustration of never really getting to know him, even though he practically knew everything about you.
You could do nothing but wait, trapped in a closet with a gun held to your body.
Suddenly you could hear a drawer being closed and steps coming closer. Zade was now standing in your hallway again, looking around. He made a tempestive step to the closet before halting abruptly. He seemed to think for a second, though his expression remained unreadable.
He made another step forward, now standing directly in front of the door. If he listened closely, he could hear your laboured breathing.
He knew you were behind that door. The only problem was that he didn’t know if you were alone. You probably weren’t but he had to think about the possible outcomes.
If you were alone, you would probably recognize him and let him take you to a safe house where you were safe until he killed that bastard that threatened him.
But if you weren’t alone, he had to get you away so he could kill that asshole. That’s unfortunately not as easy as he thought though, because he was probably not that stupid. Of course, he wasn’t intelligent either because that man messed with what’s his. You.
He had to admit, he was scared. If that man was armed, he could risk hurting you. He could of course wait until his team arrived – that he called before he drove to your house like a maniac – but that could potentially be too late.
He decided on a plan: he would open the door, if you were standing directly in front of you, he would pull you out of there, throw you to the side and attack ‘A’. If you weren’t standing directly in front of it, he would pull out the other guy, lock you into the closet and then fight ‘A’.
He took a deep breath and opened the door. What happened after, went by like a flash.
He saw that you were standing there and yanked you out by your sweater, throwing you to the side as gentle as he could. He took his knife out – he forgot he also had a gun in another pocket – and stabbed the man in front of him in the stomach.
He didn’t see that he was holding a gun, so when Zade stabbed him, a shot went lose, making you scream.
Zade pulled out the knife and his opponent collapsed to the floor.
Snapping out of it, he left the small space to look after you. He didn’t know if you screamed out of shock or if the bullet hit you.
You were standing there, white as a sheet, looking at him in horror.
“Are you alright? Did the bullet hit you?”, he asked you so fast, you almost didn’t register the question.
“No- No, it didn’t hit me.” At your words, Zade let out a sigh of relief.
He went back to the closet, taking a closer look at the man. He didn’t seem to know him, but at the sight of his small dick that was exposed he wanted to do unspeakable things to him. Did that fucking asshole really try to rape you?
Zade had to take a few deep breaths to not kill him on the spot. He was going to have his fun with him later, but now there was something more important that he had to take care of. You.
You were still standing in the hallway, shocked at what happened. You were almost raped and kidnapped, you had seen Zade without a mask for the first time because he saved you from getting raped/kidnapped. You felt like you were about to throw up and pass out.
You heard someone calling your name and saw that it was Zade who was standing in front of you, while people who you had never seen before were suddenly inside of your house.
“Let’s go to the kitchen huh, little mouse?” You could only nod, still in a kind of haze from what happened just moments before. You didn’t know how Zade could be so collected after what happened.
He sat you on the kitchen counter before telling you to stay there for a second.
“Scream if you need anything. I’m just in the next room. I’m not leaving, little mouse.”, he told you before he left you alone with your thoughts.
Zade went to his team, instructing them on what to do with the unconscious man. He was going to take care of him later. Then he told them to clean up, leave and then find out who that bastard was. He knew they wouldn’t ask questions and he had never bin this thankful for that. After they left, he went back into the kitchen.
The shock of your new stalker being dead and seeing Zade’s complete face for the first time slowly wore off. You felt a weird kind of relief at the two events, your heartbeat slowing down to somewhat normal again.
You looked into Zade’s eyes, realising that this is the first time you really saw him. Without a mask and without a filter it was just him. You could imagine him so easily, writing the letters, watching you, lusting over you. Did he even think about you that way or was it all jut a game for him? Playing this cat and mouse game with you?
You didn’t want to ask him directly though, fearing his answer. You were still sitting on the kitchen counter while he was pacing the kitchen. Neither of you said anything.
He came to a halt in front of you and stepped between your opening legs, grabbing your hands, and holding them behind your back. He was able to hold them with only one of his hands once they were behind you, so he wrapped his free hand around your throat, not pressing yet.
He just looked into your eyes for a moment, giving you the perfect opportunity to gaze into his. You saw the difference between his two eyes, but until now you never saw the mesmerizing beauty in them. His pupil was delated, and, in his eyes, you could see hunger, lust, but also the bloodlust that still lingered.
As you tried to lean forward, he tightened his hand around you neck, making it impossible for you to move. He leaned forward, almost giving you the relief, you earned for, your lips almost brushing.
“Tell me what you want, little mouse. Tell me and if you ask nicely, maybe I’ll give it to you.” You could feel every word against your lips, not even registering he waited for a reply. You direct your gaze back from his lips to his eyes.
You thought about it for a second. What did you want? Well, if was clear that you wanted him, but how? Just physically or do you want to be in a relationship with him? Both of you knew that there was a lot to talk about, but you settled on one answer for now.
“I want you to touch me. I want you to fuck me, to wreck me, to ruin me. I want you to make me yours, Zade.”, you have never said something that felt so right. At saying his name, you could feel a growl against your lips.
“Please, Zade.”, you whispered against his lips, before they finally met yours.
You’ve always imagined what it felt like to kiss him, now actually doing it felt surreal. He kissed with purpose, like he knew exactly what he wanted and how to get it. And it felt fucking amazing. You soon found the perfect rhythm. You ached to touch him, but he still held your hands.
You tried to pull your head away from him, but to no avail. He was having a tight grip on you and at feeling your resistance only gripped tighter and deepened the kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth, earning a needy moan from you.
He pulls away to breath for a moment, thinking about his next move. Meanwhile, you had time to stammer out “Please let me touch you.”
He was looking at you, thinking about it for a moment. “Say it”, he told you, “Say my name.”
“Please Zade, let me touch you, let me feel you.”, you said before trying to lean forward again. He loosened his hold on you, letting you lean forward and start kissing his neck.
He let go of your hands and pressed himself against you, pressing his growing bulge against your clothed cunt. You let your hands roam his hard muscles and over his arms while you kept on kissing his neck. You could hear his breathing getting laboured and silent moans rolling over his lips here and there.
He quickly grew impatient with your teasing and took your face into his hands, indulging you into a passionate kiss again. Your lips moved against each other like they were made for each other, falling back into rhythm almost immediately.
But Zade knew the first time with you would definitely not happen on a kitchen counter, still he was too impatient to move the two of you to the bedroom, so he improvised.
He put his hands on your hips and picked you up like you were a bag of feathers. You quickly wrapped your hand around his neck, not breaking the kiss once during the move.
He pulled out one of the chairs and took a seat, before placing you on the kitchen table. He broke the kiss, pressing your torso down and spreading your legs so he was face to face with your pussy.
You were still wearing the clothes from before, a relaces off the shoulder jumper with a pair of mom jeans which accentuated your ass very nicely. Even though in Zade’s eyes you looked good in everything, he thought you looked even better with nothing on.
He was too impatient to properly undress you, so he reached into his suit jacket and pulled out the knife from earlier.
“Remember this, little mouse?”, he asked in an almost mocking way before standing up. You gasped at the sight of the knife that had just moments ago brought a man to his knees. He leaned over you and started to cut open your clothing, grazing the cold tip of the knife against your warm skin with every slit, making goosebumps rise all over your body and wetness pooling between your thighs.
The awareness of how easy it would be for him to slice through your skin was dizzying. And he knew exactly what he was doing to you. He carefully sliced open your jumper, before moving down your body to your jeans.
He opened your fly before starting to slice down right in the middle of it, looking almost scary while doing so. You could see how he got lost in the moment. After slicing down your front, he sliced down the legs of your jeans. Your clothing was falling to the side and only your underwear remained.
He looked at you like you were the first women he ever saw in his life. You didn’t wear anything special, hell your bra and panties didn’t even match the slightest, but you still looked like the finest five course meal to him.
He just stood there for a few moments admiring you. The curve of your breasts, the valley of your stomach, the way your thighs pressed together. He knew that from this day on he was the only one who’s going to see that perfect body of yours.
He put the knife on the table for a moment to grope your breasts with both hands, giving them a good squeeze. You let out a loud moan which only seemed to spur him more on. He squeezed harder, almost crossing the line between pain and pleasure. He massaged your breasts a bit more, before putting his hands on your waist and giving your still clothed boobs a few kisses. The feeling of his hot breath against you was definitely doing something to you.
He pulled down the cups of the bra, peppering soft kisses over your now naked breasts, even leaving a few hickeys here and there. He pulled away and straightened up, taking the knife back into his hands.
He sliced open your bra before caressing your skin with the blade again. He took his time with it, waiting to see how you react to every movement of him, staying a bit longer at the places where your breath hitches or you let one of your delicious sounding moans slip. He was getting more and more aroused by the second.
After he decided he tortured enough (for now), he took the knife to your panties and sliced right through them, earning a gasp from you.
He took a seat at the table, grabbed your legs, and pulled you to the edge, before throwing them over his shoulder.
He started to kiss along your thighs, leaving the place where you needed him most untouched. He left a few hickeys along your thighs before finally coming closer to your glistening pussy. He admired you mostly in silence so far but couldn’t keep quiet anymore at the sight that you have presented him with.
“What made you so wet huh, little mouse? Was it my kisses, my caresses, my knife gliding along your skin or the sight of me killing that fucker who thought he was better than me? Tell me, be a good girl for me?”, his words aroused you even more. You couldn’t even answer him, taking too long to process his question in the haze you were in.  
“Answer me when I ask you something, little mouse.”, he told you more demanding now.
“Every- Everything.”, you managed to stammer out. “Everything about you turns me on. You- fuck you make me so wet.”
“Already this dumb? I didn’t even play with that sweet little pussy yet. How are you going to react when I fuck you until you are unconscious on my cock, huh little mouse?”, he asked you in mock concern before chuckling. You could do nothing but moan at his filthy words. Your pussy was clenching around nothing, waiting to be filled by the man in front of you.  
He decided to have some mercy on you and went back to your cunt. His warm breath against you let a shiver run down your spine. He placed a few wet open mouth kisses to your cunt, receiving needy moans from you.
Finally, he licked a long stripe down your pussy before caressing your clit with tight circles, making you cry out his name. His name on your lips seemed to spur him on even more, as he entered your tight hole with one of his fingers, pumping into you at a steady rhythm.
It all felt so good, almost too good. Finally having the relief, you earned for since that very first letter. He was moving against you like it was the thing he was destined to be doing. You had never felt like this with another man, and you were sure that smug bastard new that.e waHe
He slowly added another finger, making your back arch. You were coming dangerously close to the edge. 
Zade could feel your pussy clenching around his fingers. He knew you needed that relief, but he wasn’t going to give it to you just yet. When he knew you were right on the edge, he pulled out his fingers and removed his head from in-between your legs. You whined at the loss, a tear rolling down your reddened cheek.
“Please, Zade. I need you. I was so close. Fuck.”, you almost sobbed out.
“You really thought I’ll just let you orgasm? I wouldn’t have thought you were that naïve, little mouse.”, he spoke to you again in a mocking voice.
You leaned up on your shaking hands to look into his eyes, when another tear rolled down your cheek. “Please.”
“Don’t worry, little mouse. You’ll get you relief and it’ll be the best orgasm you ever had.”, he assured you with a dark edge in his tone.
He gripped your waist and lifted you up, pressing your naked body against his still clothed one. You quickly wrapped your shaky legs around his waist and your arms around his neck, peppering kisses along his jawline and face.
He carried you to your bedroom. Of course, he knew exactly where it was, having placed quite a few notes there in the past. He put you on the floor, steadying your waist in case your legs wouldn’t hold you. He suddenly looked very serious. “Little mouse, do you trust me?”
He could see the hesitation in your eyes. Of course, you trusted him, especially after he almost killed someone for you. But there was still some doubt in you, especially about his feelings for you. You didn’t even realise you hadn’t answered him.
“What do you want me to do to prove to you that you can trust me? Do you want me to kneel in front of you? Because I’ll go on my fucking knees for you, if that’s what it takes, little mouse. I promise you can trust me.”
At the thought of this powerful man on his knees in front of you, you felt another flood of wetness rush between your thighs. Even though you still didn’t know how he felt about you, you felt a little more comfortable.
“Yes, Zade”, you answered him “I trust you.”
That was all it took. He removed his hands from your waist and put one of them on your shoulder, pressing you down so you were on your knees in front of him.
“Take out my cock little mouse.”, he commanded before adding, “and then put your hands behind your back.”
You immediately got to work. You opened his belt, not bothering to pull it out, letting the belt buckle hang to the side. You opened the button and then pulled down the zipper, grazing Zade’s hard dick and making him moan. You put your hand into his boxers and pulled out his rock-hard cock.
He was huge, probably about 10 inches long and thick. Your mouth watered at the thought of tasting him and feeling him inside you. That dick was definitely going to stretch you to your limits. You could see a drop of precum escaping the tip, running along his thick shaft.
You looked up at Zade who was looking at you with a hunger you had never seen at anyone.
“No need to be shy, little mouse. Be a good girl for daddy and suck my cock.”
You leaned forward, your hands behind your back, and took his tip into your mouth, gently sucking it. You could taste his sweet precum, making you moan. You swirled your tongue around his tip before slowly taking him deeper, tracing his prominent veins with your tongue.
Zade was growling above you, mesmerized by the sight of you sucking his cock. It felt so good, finally feeling you around his length after he imagined it for so long. He came so hard thinking about you in this exact position and now having you there, bobbing along his cock felt unreal.
You were going up and down on him now, struggling to take him completely. Zade thought that you had enough time to explore him now. He put his hand on the back of your head and started to fuck your face. He started off slowly but then started fucking your face like it had seriously wronged him.
You were gagging on his cock, tears streaming down your face while you could just sit there and take it. Zade’s face was twisted with please, sinful moans falling from his perfect lips. He cupped your face with his free hand, not slowing his pace. He built a steady rhythm, using your mouth and throat the way he liked.
You could feel yourself getting wetter at the sounds he was making. Knowing that you were the one bringing him so much pleasure turned you on to no end. You were moaning around his cock, making shivers run down your spine.
“You’re such a good girl for me. You take my cock so well, so pretty in front of my knees, drooling and crying. I could fuck your beautiful face forever.” His words were bringing you closer to the edge, but you resisted coming. You knew he was close to, feeling his length twitch in your mouth. You wanted to make him cum, so you started to move your head against his length, giving him everything you had.
“That’s it, little mouse. You feel so good, I’m so close. I know you want it too, want to swallow all my cum. Go on, touch that needy pussy. I want you to cum, chocking on my cock with your hands inside that cunt. Do it.”, he ordered. leaving no room for discussion. You immediately removed your hands from behind your back and started touching yourself, playing with your clit and pumping in and out of you with two fingers. It didn’t feel as good as Zade, but it was enough to send you close to the edge.
“Cum now, little mouse. Be a good girl and I’ll fill you with my cum.” His words sent you over the edge. You chocked on his cock while cumming, sending him over the edge. he spurted his cum down your throat, not halting his movements until he had stopped.
He pulled out of your mouth, admiring your face. Tears streaming down your face, smudging your mascara. Drool running down your chin, your cheeks were red. He had never seen someone who looked that beautiful. He gave you a few moments to catch your breath and waited for you to look at him again. When he saw that stunning little smile on your face, he knew he could continue.
He hoisted you up by the arms and threw you onto the bed, earning a surprised yelp from you. Your legs spread automatically for him, and he admired your glistening pussy before undressing himself. He took off his jacket, loosened his tie, unbuttoned his shirt, pulled down his pants and stepped out of him.
Now that he was just in his boxers you had some time to admire him. He was built like a Greek god, taut muscles everywhere and his cock, now erect again, stood tall and reached his belly button without effort. He looked even better than you imagined.
Zade saw you starring and cockily flexed his muscles for you, turning around and showing you his muscular back, making you giggle. It was good that his back was turned to you, because your giggle made his face soften. He never thought he would hear you genuinely laugh because of him, but here you were.
He turned around again and rid himself of his boxers, before climbing on top of you, covering your body with his. He leaned down and kissed you with a passion that wasn’t there before. The kiss grew heated quite fast, and you could feel his hard cock against your thigh.
You pulled away. “Please fuck me, Zade. Ruin me, make me yours.”, you almost begged as you spread your legs further.
Zade gladly fulfilled your wish and put one of his hands next to your head for leverage and used the other one to guide his cock to your entrance.
He aligned his fat tip with your gaping hole and entered you in one swift motion. You screamed out at the feeling of him stretching you out. The moment he was fully inside of you, Zade’s hand wrapped around your throat, squeezing you.
He didn’t give you much time to adjust to his size but bottomed out completely before filling you up again. He started to thrust into you at a relentless paste, using you like a fuck toy.
You loved it.
Admittedly, it was a lot but it also felt so good. He fucked you hard, the hand around your neck, cutting off some of your oxygen only made it so much more pleasurable.
“Fuck, you feel so good wrapped around my cock, my good girl. I can feel you squeezing me every time I’m tightening my grip around that pretty neck. Is that what you wanted, little mouse when you told me to use you? To ruin you?”
“Y- Yes.”, you breathed out.
“Yes, what?”, he asked you with that cocky grin reappearing on his face. “Y- Yes, daddy.”, you answered him before letting out another moan at the way he talked to you.
“Good girl”, he praised you before tightening his grip and fucking you harder. He leaned down and kissed you breathless, tasting himself on your tongue.
You could feel his thrusts getting sloppy and the heat in your belly growing. You knew you were both close.
“P- Please.”, you stammered out. He loosened the grip on your neck for a moment. “Please what, little mouse?”
“Please cum in me, daddy. Please, I want to cum with you.”, you begged, more tears falling from your eyes.
“Such a good girl asking permission to cum. Cum with me, little mouse. I want to feel you milking my cock. I want to pump you full of my cum. Cum for me. Now.”
His words sent you over the edge. He tightened his grip around your throat, and you screamed out, your pussy clenching around his length. He came with a shout of your name but didn’t halt his movements.
You could feel him spurting thick ropes of cum into your pussy, fucking his cum deeper inside of you. He didn’t stop until the both of you had come down. He came to a halt inside of you, removing his hand from your neck, admiring the already forming bruise in the shape of his hand.
He reluctantly pulled out of you, watching his cum drip out of you. He pushed some of it back inside of you with his fingers, penetrating your already overstimulated pussy. He placed one last kiss on your clit before getting up from the bed and putting on his boxers again.
For a moment you feared that he would get dressed again and leave you alone. That he would maybe go back to just stalking you, but you relaxed again when he went to the bathroom. He reappeared with a damp cloth and body lotion.
He cleaned you up, being careful not to be too harsh on you. Then he took some of the lotion and started to massage your body. He started with your neck, where he applied some of the cream over your bruises and then worked along your body, relieving your stress. He looked concentrated as he worked his skilled hands over your body and made you feel the safest you ever had been.
After you slightly came back to yourself, he stopped massaging you and looked into your eyes with a feeling you couldn’t really place.
“Are you alight, little mouse?”, he asked.
“Yea- Yeah, I’m fine, more than fine actually.”, you answered with a hoarse voice, already feeling the effect of your rough fucking.
“If I am being honest with you, I imagined my first time fucking you a little bit different. And under of course under different circumstances.” His confession made you smile, though that smile faltered again after a moment. Zade looked at you concerned and was about to ask you if you were alright before you asked with a small voice.
“Are you going to leave me now?” The expression on your face made Zade’s heart break a little. His face grew cold again before he answered.
“I’m never going to leave you, little mouse. You’re mine now. Forever”
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festivalsofmargot · 1 year
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Blood Sport {Garreth Weasley x Fem!Reader}
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Got this pic of Garreth from Rimaeternax on twitter!!!
AGED UP CHARACTERS, 18+ SCENARIOS (Characters are in their 7th year and are 18+)
Introduction: Garreth had begged you not to put your name in The Goblet of Fire. The TriWizard Tournament was known for being so dangerous, it was practically a death sentence to every school Champion chosen. You promised him you wouldn’t, but when you found out your best friend Natty had entered her name, you decided to go against his wishes and enter behind his back. Being as capable as you were and the only person in ages able to wield ancient magic, of course your name was chosen. Along with an overwhelming sense of dread that you could die, Garreth felt betrayal, and has kept his distance from you ever since.
Word Count: ~ 9,900 (I’m gonna be honest, I dunno how it happened)
Warnings: Heavy Drinking, Swearing, Angst, Smut (Sex, Edging, Oral)
Author’s Note: I made this so it could be a standalone, but in case you’d like extra background, this is a continuation of Garreth’s portion in The 3 Boys & The Hogwarts Champion. I couldn’t get his part out of my head and I had to write out the rest of his story. Freckled Serotonin could be a prequel too haha, a fic that takes place during a time where the relationship is only happiness and fluff. Maaaan, I have been obsessing and losing sleep over this fic all week and I’m so happy I finally finished! It’s my longest one yet, so get cozy and grab a snack 🥰 Hope you guys have a great night ❤ 
Songs (if interested):
Blood Sport - Sleep Token (Original Version & Room Below Version)
for forever - EKKSTACY
You Can’t Stop Me - Alex G
you not the same - TileKid
The Love You Want - Sleep Token
Lights Are On - Tom Rosenthal
-
It had been weeks now since you and Garreth last spoke. You knew he needed time and space to forgive you, but your second challenge was coming up soon, and now more than ever you wanted him by your side again. 
The Durmstrang Champion, Maxim Mainka, had caught a few hints at what it could be, and things weren’t looking good if his suspicions were correct. He had been so concerned he wanted to prepare with you and the Beauxbatons Champion, Amelie DuPont. Was there anything more unsettling than something that could put a Durmstrang student on edge?
Possibly facing a challenge you couldn’t overcome within the next week had weighed on you more and more as it approached. So when Professor Weasley announced that the fourth years and up were to meet for dance practice for the upcoming Yule Ball, you were over the moon. You’d take anything that could help take your mind off it all. 
You grinned a bit seeing all the younger years get uneasy at Professor Weasley explaining the proper dance that was required of everyone if they wanted to attend. The seventh years were the only ones who seemed to be at ease with the whole thing, probably because it wouldn’t be the first time touching someone so intimately for most of you. Whereas the younger years had never even held hands with someone and it was written all over their faces.
“Garreth, come up and help me demonstrate please.” 
Your smile faltered a bit watching Garreth walk up. He received some whistles and hollers as he strode up to his aunt proudly, chest puffed like he was about to own this demonstration dance. You couldn’t help the grin that tugged at your lips, of course you still found him as hilarious as ever, despite your current situation.
He blew an exaggerated kiss to the audience and you cackled along with the other students. He then joined his aunt for the dance, keeping the smug look on his face as she talked through the steps for everyone. At one point, he surprised her with a dip, causing everyone to howl with laughter and she smacked him lightly. He said a quick apology and brought her back up.
“That’ll do. Thank you, Garreth.” He stepped back from his aunt and gave a dramatic bow, bringing another round of chuckles from everyone as you all clapped for him.
“Alright, now everyone find a partner and we’ll go through the steps together.”
Most of the students went quiet and still, not wanting to make the first move. The only ones who got up to move were the ones in relationships, heading to join their significant others for practice. You looked down to the ground, suddenly feeling like an unconfident fourth year yourself.
Garreth caught sight of you amongst the crowd. He had been wanting to go up and speak to you these last few days, but he couldn't get himself to do it. There never seemed to be a good time, he started to doubt there ever would be. 
He straightened his tie, more out of bustling nerves than anything, and strode up to you. He held out his hand for you to take and you slowly looked up at him, clearly taken aback. 
He looked down at you with a smirk, hoping you didn’t see through his feigned confidence. “What do you say, oh mighty Champion of Hogwarts?”
You swallowed thickly, your body wasn’t handling Garreth speaking to you again as well as you had hoped, but you’d take this moment regardless. You tentatively took his hand and he tugged you up with ease. He kept your hand in his as he led you to the floor, then effortlessly pulled you into the dance, his hold on you firm and warm. 
“You have horrible taste in dance partners, Weasley.” You tried to jest to hide how anxious you were. Unable to meet his gaze, you looked down at your feet to make sure you didn’t step on his. It was a bit much, not speaking for as long as you had and now you were in his arms like this.
“Just follow the expert, you’ll be fine.” He pulled you even closer to him, getting you to finally look up at his face. His eyes bored into yours, and it wiped your mind clean of any coherent thought you had. You wanted to look back down to your feet but he had pulled you too close to be able to do so, so you settled for looking at your hand on his shoulder. 
“I uh - I thought I’d take this chance to speak with you.” It was Garreth’s turn to feel uneasy.
Well… that doesn’t sound good. “Alright.”
He looked away from you, his jaw tensing, bracing himself for what he was going to say next. Your stomach dropped seeing his face turn so dismayed when he was being goofy and having fun only a moment ago. 
“I don’t know how best to put this, so I’m just going to say it. I think we should just be friends.” He could feel you stiffen and he pulled you in closer, your stance turning more into an embrace. He placed his cheek against yours, your swaying becoming only small steps from side to side. “I’m sorry.” He whispered. “I really do hope we can be friends, I’ll do anything to make that happen. Anything. But, I can’t be yours anymore. I just… I can’t. It hurts too much.”
Your eyes stung with tears, and you hated that one had managed to fall. But you were able to remain standing tall. Unable to speak with your throat feeling so constricted, you settled for a brief nod of your head, letting him know you heard him.
“Whatever you need, it's yours. I’ll help you through the rest of the tournament any way I can, just say the word.”
Quickly wiping away your stray tear before he could see it, you cleared your throat. You shifted in your stance so he could back off of you a bit. “Let’s stick with dance lessons, yeah?”
You looked over his shoulder, focusing on nothing in particular while he eyed you a moment longer. He then nodded his head, looking over your shoulder at nothing in particular himself. “Yeah… Yeah, alright then.”
-
That night you had decided to go to The Hog’s Head. You would go to Three Broomsticks, but you didn’t want to chance bumping into Garreth. You wanted to avoid him like the plague. 
Walking in, you saw Maxim Mainka. He was sitting at the bar, drinking and cheerily speaking with those around him. He noticed you walk in and lit up like you were just the person he wanted to see. 
“Fellow Champion! Come! Come join me!” 
You smiled and joined his side at the bar. 
“One for my friend, on me!” He called to the bartender.
You gladly took the pint placed in front of you and began on a steady stream of gulps.
“That’s the way!” He cheered, patting you on the back and clearly feeling a good buzz in his cheeks. He held up his drink to you and you clinked it with yours. “Let’s enjoy our last few days alive, my friend!”
You stilled and thought on his words for a moment. You knew Maxim had been feeling edgy about the upcoming challenge, but you didn’t think he’d be this convinced none of the champions would make it out alive. 
You started to go a bit numb. The love of your life had asked you to ‘just be friends’ and you might very well die in a few days… 
What better time to drink myself silly? 
You raised your pint, “Here’s to that.” Then you brought it back to your lips for more.
-
Garreth sat at the bar of The Three Broomsticks, barely able to touch his drink; he was so sick to his stomach. He rubbed at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger, unable to follow the chatter of his friends next to him.
He knew ending things with you would be one of the stupidest things he had ever done, but he had to. What choice did he have? He couldn’t keep you wondering and waiting on him to forgive you when you had more important things to focus on. 
His feelings were all over the place. He still loved you deeply, but he was also still upset. He didn’t think you’d ever truly know how full of dread you made him when you threw yourself into danger as constantly as you did. 
He thought if he gave you a clear stance on where the two of you were in the meantime, it’d be better for you, give you the chance to prepare for your challenges with a clear head. But asking to just be friends had gone horribly, bringing the exact opposite effect he wanted, making things even worse on you. 
“I think I’m gonna turn in, mate. Not feeling it tonight.” Garreth got up from his seat and patted Leander on the back as he passed. He moseyed out of The Three Broomsticks with his hands in his pockets, kicking the dirt at his feet as he made his way out of Hogsmeade.
The sound of cheering coming from The Hog’s Head caught his attention. He peeked over curiously and had to do a double take. That bar was never bustling, yet there was a huge crowd around it tonight, boisterous about something going on inside.
He was caught off guard when you and Maxim clambered out of the crowd and fell to the ground, laughing hysterically and definitely drunk. The crowd cheered in intoxicated delight at your collapse.
Garreth made his way over as Maxim helped you up. When he saw him throw you over his shoulder, his blood boiled and he picked up his pace.
“This one’s pissed! She’s done for the night!” Maxim called back to the crowd as he carried you away from The Hog’s Head with ease. The crowd whined in unison at your departure.
Garreth strode up to him. “Put her down. I can take her from here.” 
As Garreth approached, Maxim side stepped him and kept walking. 
“Oi, Knobhead! I said put her down!”
Maxim gave your side a quick pat. “You know this one?”
You peeked up. “Ah! It’s alright, I know him. He can take me.” You giggled, and Garreth wanted you down from Maxim’s shoulder yesterday.
With a grunt, he set you down. “If you trust him. I could go for a few more rounds anyway.” He took your hand and kissed it. “Goodnight. Meet with me again tomorrow?” He went in to kiss your hand again while he waited for your answer.
“Appreciate it, mate. Goodnight.” Garreth came up behind you, gripping your shoulders and moving you along before his lips could make it to your hand again. 
You waved over your shoulder lazily. “Goodnight to you too, Maxim.”
When Garreth felt you two were far enough away, he released your shoulders and walked by your side.
You let out a content sigh and looked up at the stars above as you walked. 
“Seems you enjoyed yourself tonight.” Garreth grumbled.
“I sure did.”
Garreth’s jaw tensed at the thought of you having been with Maxim all night. “Couldn’t even give it a full day, huh?”
You let out an exhale, your drunkenness making it sound a little more exaggerated. You glanced over at him. He was facing ahead stiffly, hands in his pockets. “And what do you mean by that?”
He shrugged, putting on a face like he couldn’t be bothered what you did anymore. “Nothing.”
“I can’t enjoy myself if we’re not together? Is that it?”
“I didn’t say that. Enjoy yourself all you want.”
“I planned on it.”
“Good. Glad you had such a great night.” He wasn’t glad.
“I did have a great night.” You decided to get cheeky. “And I’m so happy my good friend, Garreth Weasley, was here to walk me back to the dorms. What a guy.” 
He sighed your name, starting to regret he didn’t keep his mouth shut.
You hiccuped and rubbed at your eyes. You were starting to feel a little sick and groaned. “I think I had a few too many. I just didn’t want to stop. Oh, have you heard? Apparently, it’s going to be suicide walking into the arena this week. No one at Hog’s Head would shut up about it.” You mumbled. “What a way to go, huh?”
Garreth stopped in his tracks and looked at you in horror. “What… What did you just say?” He didn’t recognize who he was talking to right then. You sounded like you were accepting death. You knew this tournament was dangerous, but you’d at least always been determined to fight.
You ignored him and kept walking, humming the Hogwarts anthem and keeping your air of drunken bliss.
Garreth called your name sternly for you to stop walking and look at him. 
He rarely spoke with such a tone, and it seemed to bring you back to reality a bit. Your face hardened when you glanced back at him. “Don’t even start.” You said bitterly as you kept walking.
He raised his brows, incredulous at your behavior tonight, and moved to join your side. “Sorry? Say that again. Start what exactly?” 
You stopped and faced each other. “Why should I listen to anything you have to say when you abandoned me? You left me when I -” You shoved him, “- When I needed you the most.”
“I left you, did I? I could have sworn you were the one that chose a worthless fucking tournament over me but what do I know? I’m just an idiot who wanks over potions.”
An amused huff escaped you and you rubbed at your face, drunk and desperately trying not to crack up. “Dammit, Garreth.” You groaned. “Don’t make me laugh, I'm mad at you.” 
He shook his head and bit back a smirk of his own. He really did need to work on his timing. The two of you were definitely having the worst fight you’ve had since knowing each other, he needed to take it seriously.
He took a deep breath and rubbed a hand down his face. “How about we not be mad at each other tonight?” He said, waving his white flag. With alcohol in both of your systems - more so yours than his but still - putting this conversation to the side for now seemed like the smartest idea. “Let’s save it for tomorrow.”
“That’s -” You lost your balance slightly and he steadied you. “That’s a good idea.”
-
As Garreth stepped into the dining hall the next morning, his eyes roamed the room for you. When he spotted you, it didn’t take long for your eyes to drift up and lock with his. He gestured with his chin for you to step outside and speak with him. You nodded your head, getting up and walking over. 
Out of habit when he got this close to you, he gingerly grabbed a hold of your arm. “I wanted to make sure you were alright.”
“I’m fine. Head’s killing me, but I’m fine.” You tried to give him a reassuring smile.
He gave you a weak smile in return, not quite buying it. “To be honest, you scared me. You sounded like you’d given up last night.”
You shook your head. “I wasn’t in my right mind, and I hate that you had to be there for any of it. You shouldn’t have had to hear anything I said in that state.”
He gave your arm a gentle squeeze to help put you at ease like he usually would. But it made him remember that you weren’t together anymore, and he shouldn’t be doing things like that.
When he released you, you glanced down briefly, not even aware he had had a hold on you. Now, it seemed you two had to get used to not touching each other, that was what felt less natural.
“I meant it when I said I still want to be there for you. Whatever you need, it’s yours.” Garreth looked into your eyes, trying to convey how much he meant it.
You nodded your head, deciding to let him help. If this next challenge was as dangerous as Maxim said it was going to be, you needed all the help you could get. “I need potions. All that you can make me.”
-
Garreth was crumbling as he paced back and forth in front of the hospital wing. “Let me in, I need to see her. Please, you don’t understand.” His breathing was uneven, his voice cracking. The latest challenge was the most horrific thing he had ever seen. 
The Beauxbatons Champion had been killed, torn to pieces by the horde of inferi you were tasked to fight. You and Maxim had barely made it through. The both of you had to be carried out of the arena, and Garreth needed to see with his own eyes that you were actually alive.
Nurse Blainey tried to steady him. “I do understand. But she’s resting, you need to leave her be for now.”
Leander had tried easing him away. “Come on, Garreth. She’s in good hands now, we can come back later.”
Garreth shoved him back. “Goddammit, get off me!” He turned back to Nurse Blainey with a fire in his eyes. “I’m not waiting for your permission any more.” He shoved past her into the hospital wing.
He scanned the room for you, walking past Maxim who was rocking back and forth while nurses tended to his wounds. He mumbled something in his native tongue to himself over and over. 
Garreth froze and his stomach dropped sickeningly when he spotted your bloodied and bruised form. As the nurses tended to your wounds, his mind raced, trying to reassure himself repeatedly that he could see you breathing, you were only sleeping, you were still alive.
Leander placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Let’s go, mate.”
Garreth nodded his head rigidly and turned away from you. He apologized to Nurse Blainey and Leander guided him out.
When they returned to the Gryffindor common room, Garreth made a beeline to his dorm. Shutting the door behind him, he went and slumped down on the edge of his bed. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. Then, all at once, the tears came. He shot a hand up to cover his eyes and his shoulders began to shake with quiet sobs.
-
Garreth returned with Leander later that night. Leander went into the hospital wing first to check if it was okay for him to see you. He didn’t think he’d be able to walk past you and just leave if he was told ‘no’.
Leander came back out with a small smile. “You can see her. But Nurse Blainey said she’s on quite a lot of painkillers. Go easy on her tonight.”
“Thanks. I’m sorry again for earlier.” 
Leander waved him off and turned to leave. “See you later.”
Garreth made his way in towards your bed. He noticed Maxim was out like a rock, and was relieved for the poor man.
“Uh oh, I don’t think I did my herbology homework. I’ll need to get on that soon.” Garreth heard you say and could immediately tell how well the painkillers were working on you.
“No need to worry about it right now, dear.” Nurse Blainey chuckled as she looked over her checklist. She glanced up at Garreth as he approached. “If she wants to sleep, let her. Don’t keep her up.”
Garreth gave her a firm nod, then looked at you and noticed how out of it you really were. You were sitting up in bed and looking up at the ceiling whimsically. He was thankful you didn’t seem to be feeling all the stitched up gashes and harsh bruising on you.
Your eyes eventually landed on him and your face lit up. “There’s my boy.”
Garreth’s chest went fluttery. It had felt like ages since you had called him your anything. Merlin, I’ve missed that.
“Where have you been? I wanted to tell you I beat Leander at Summoner’s Court today. Or… wait… was that yesterday?”
Garreth let out an amused breath through his nose and went to sit in the chair at your bedside. “No, you were right. That was today.” He took your hand in his. No harm in being back with you like this for only a night, right? Especially if you were this out of it, it didn't seem like you’d remember any of it anyway. “And I believe it. Leander’s bloody terrible at Summoner’s Court. Has been since first year, the moron.”
You giggled and brought both of your hands over his, bringing it up to your lips. Garreth’s insides turned to putty. Still weak as ever for you, I see.
“How are your hands always so warm?” You looked down at his hand in wonder.
“How are yours always so cold?” The corner of his lips quirked up. He’d gladly forget everything with you tonight, go back to a better time. 
You released his hand and brought yours up to examine them. “What? You think my hands are always cold? Why didn’t you tell me sooner? I would have… I would… Merlin, what happened to my hands?” Noticing the discoloration and stitches, you brought them closer to your face to get a better look. Garreth grabbed a hold of your hands, covering them with his. He brought them down and began stroking his thumbs over your skin.
“Next time I go to Honeydukes, what do you want me to get you?” It was the first thing he could think of to distract you and it seemed to work wonders. You shifted a bit in the bed to face him more, excited to give him your answer.
“Oh, chocolate frogs. Is that even a question?” 
“You’re right.” He smiled at you. “It’s always chocolate frogs. I didn’t even need to ask.”
Your eyes widened slightly and you gave a quiet gasp. “Oh no, Gar. That reminds me. Did I ever get you your billywig stings?”
He chuckled. When and where is your brain right now? “Yes, you got them for me. Don’t worry.”
“Good.” You relaxed again. “Sorry. My head’s been all over the place today.”
As he nodded in agreement and bit back a laugh, a student came rushing into the hospital wing, getting both of your attention. You looked at the panicked student curiously, and Garreth was mindful to keep your hands covered with his.
“Nurse Blainey, Isaac Cooper fell off his broom! W - We didn’t want to move him -”
Nurse Blainey didn’t hesitate to go up to him. “Take me to him immediately.” She looked back to the both of you. “I’ll be back shortly.”
You watched her leave the wing, then you looked back to Garreth. You raised a brow at him and he raised one back at you. He eyed you as you shifted in bed again, freeing your hands from his and moving away from him, creating space. “Join me while she’s gone.”
Garreth’s throat went dry. He gave a little cough to regain his composure. “I don’t think that’s a good idea…”
“You don’t want to?” You asked innocently as you laid on your side and looked up at him.
Still beyond weak for you. He exhaled and glanced back at the hospital wing entrance, then moved to lie in bed with you.
You grabbed his tie, fiddling with it as you lied there, face to face. He couldn’t help but feel completely at ease, as if he had gone back in time like you had. He brought his hand up and rested it on your cheek.
Your brows furrowed a bit, and you looked troubled.
“What’s going through your mind right now?” He asked, beginning to stroke your cheek with his thumb, careful to be gentle over your bruising.
“I feel like something bad’s going to happen this year, Gar. I can’t shake it.”
He shook his head. “Nothing bad’s going to happen.” He whispered.
You let go of his tie and met his gaze. “Then why do I feel so uneasy right now?”
He pulled you to him, tucking your head under his chin and you nuzzled into his chest. He stroked your hair as he held you. “N.E.W.T.s probably.”
You gave a soft hum. “Yeah… that’s got to be it. I hate tests.” He noticed your voice was starting to sound sleepy.
“I know you do.”
He propped his head up on his hand and looked down at you as he continued stroking your hair. He watched and waited until your breathing got heavier and you did those cute little snores of yours. Once he knew you were asleep, he kissed your temple, then slipped out of the bed as noiselessly as he could.
Just as he was about to leave, Nurse Blainey had made her way back with Isaac Cooper. He took one last glance at your sleeping form across the room, then left.
-
You didn’t know how long you had been out, but the grogginess and soreness you felt when you finally awoke was unreal. The sun was shining through the windows and you realized you were in the hospital wing. The last thing you remember was being in the arena and... You squeezed your eyes shut and opened them back up, trying to erase the image of Amelie DuPont’s mangled corpse from your head.
You looked up at the ceiling, breathing through the immense discomfort in your body. Then, something bright and blue caught your attention at the corner of your eye. You turned your head slightly to see a chocolate frog box on the bedside table. 
Who would leave a perfectly good chocolate frog lying around?
-
It was probably the first time in TriWizard Tournament history where none of the school Champions attended The Yule Ball. Was that historically accurate? Garreth wasn’t sure. But with how dramatic Headmaster Black was acting, he’d believe it was.
It was common knowledge Maxim Mainka wanted to keep to himself ever since the last challenge. Showing up to a ball was the last thing anyone expected him to do. As for you, Garreth had no idea where you were or why you hadn’t shown up yet. 
He didn’t even know what your plans were for the ball to begin with, didn’t want to ask, truth be told. Why on earth would he open up the opportunity to hear about how the woman he fumbled would be going with someone else? 
He saw how many people asked you. You had turned them all down from what he’d seen. At first, he thought maybe you’d want him to take you, but every time he brought up the ball, you’d change the topic. He could take a hint.
Garreth decided to leave and look for you. He hadn’t brought a date anyway. Why did he decide to go alone to watch the love of his life walk in and dance with someone else? He didn’t know for sure, but it was probably because he felt he deserved it, treating you the way he had this year. And it was all because he couldn’t handle being with someone so inconceivable.
He couldn’t believe he had been as upset with you as he was. It’s not like you had treated him horribly or were unfaithful. You had gone behind his back to save your best friend Natty for Merlin’s sake. You hadn’t betrayed him. You were only doing what you felt was right.
He had been so afraid of losing you forever, he convinced himself you were doing him wrong whenever you threw yourself into danger. And so, he pushed you away like an idiot. He had no idea where to begin when it came to fixing what you two had, had no idea if he even could.
Garreth asked around before he left but no one seemed to know where you were. Not even Natty knew and that had genuinely shocked him. Wherever you were in this castle, you didn’t care to be found.
-
Hopping from floo to floo for what felt like hours, Garreth had finally found you in Professor Sharp’s classroom of all places. 
Putting his hands in his pockets, he leaned against the doorway and watched you at one of the potion stations. It had been a few months since the last challenge, you weren’t fully recovered but all your scrapes and bumps had healed for the most part, only a few bandages here and there remained. 
He kept quiet and let himself just look at you. You were beautiful, all done up for the ball and brewing what looked like an edurus potion from what he could see. You looked like a dream, like you were made just for him.
“Don't you have a big, fancy Room of Requirement you could do this in?” He quipped.
Carefully dropping some more mongrel fur into the pot, you glanced over your shoulder at him. “Evening, Garreth.” You smiled politely, then turned back to your pot. “What are you doing here?”
Garreth’s face dropped a bit. You had greeted him like you were decent friends and nothing more. Isn’t this wonderful? After all, it was his bright idea. Garreth from a few months ago would have been thrilled to know you two could get to this point. And present day Garreth wanted to go back and kick Garreth from a few months ago’s ass. Turns out, he didn’t like being friends with you. Not one bit. 
“I could ask you the same thing.” He pushed up off the door frame and took slow steps towards you. 
“I ran out of mongrel fur.” You said, fixated on the brew before you. “Thankfully Professor Sharp let me take over the edurus potion he was already making.”
“I don't see Professor Sharp anywhere, just go on and admit you’re stealing it. I won’t tell.” He stepped closer. 
You shot him a brief smirk over your shoulder. You were glad to have Garreth back in your life and on such good terms too, but there were times when it just hurt. Tonight seemed especially bad. You had heard through the grapevine he asked Nellie Oggspire to the ball. Putting on a good face was taking a lot more effort than normal.
You cleared your throat, thinking of a way to keep the mood light. “How’s your night been?”
Ah, small talk. Merlin, he hated this.
He rubbed a hand down his face and came up beside you, peeking into your pot. “My night’s been fine. Looks like you need a few more ashwinder eggs.” He turned and went to go grab some for you.
“I was thinking the same thing.” You furrowed your brows and bit your lip as you stirred and looked into your pot, examining it closely to see if there was anything else it needed. 
He returned and handed the eggs to you, wishing he hadn’t caught your focus face. He was always a sucker for it.
“Thank you.” You said appreciatively, grabbing the eggs without looking at him and plopping them in. 
“Looks like that should do it.” He mused. His eyes gradually went up from the pot to your face, then down to your dress, more specifically your body in your dress. He swallowed thickly and made himself look back at the pot. “And you? How has your night been?”
“Pretty busy, I haven’t been able to get to the ball yet. One of our kneazles is having her litter tonight. Deek was going to make sure everything went smoothly while I was away, all he asked for was an edurus potion in case she got too cranky with him. Hence -” You gestured absently to yourself and the pot.
“You would spend Christmas Eve like this.” He smirked. “I thought it was a Yule Ball tradition for the champions to attend.” He crossed his arms and leaned back against the table.
You only shrugged your shoulders in response. You made yourself keep your eyes on your brew, because if you looked his way, you’d get weak at how wonderfully he cleaned up for the ball. 
Garreth… really hated this. He hated that you barely looked at him and that this was how your conversations went now. Your silences were never awkward, if there was a silence between you while you were together it was comfortable.
“Don’t worry, I’m almost done. I’ll be out of here and then you can take over this station.”
He furrowed his brows. “Hmm? I don’t need to do anything. I came to see if you were in here.”
You looked at him then and he met your gaze. Don’t give me hope like that, Weasley. You averted your gaze back to your pot. “Oh, well…” You cleared your throat. “Did you… need me for something?”
He shook his head. “No, I didn’t need you for anything. You weren’t at the ball and I missed you, that’s the gist of it.”
You glanced his way again. You weren’t going to let yourself have any hope until he told you he forgave you. You needed to hear those exact words, you wouldn’t let yourself jump at anything less.
“Don’t you have a date to get to tonight?” Garreth tried to sound as casual as he could. He hadn’t heard anything about who you’d be going with. But whoever they were, they weren’t with you now. Maybe he could ease himself into the pain instead of getting a full on shock when he finally sees you dance with someone else.
“Would you believe no one asked me?”
“Not for a second." He scoffed. "Even if I hadn’t seen people asking you with my own eyes.”
You chuckled. “Well, no date for me. I uh - I needed to go at my own pace tonight. Didn’t want to ruin anyone else’s Yule Ball just because -” You pinched the bridge of your nose and let out a humorless huff, “- just because my head’s such a goddamn mess right now.”
Garreth eyed you with concern. Then he processed even more of what you said. “You were never going with anyone?”
You shook your head.
“I didn’t go with anyone either.”
You looked at him, surprise evident on your face. “You didn’t?”
Garreth held your gaze and shook his head.
“But… I thought you were going with Nellie.”
Garreth raised a brow at you, genuinely confused. “Why would you think that?”
“Well I - I heard from a few different people you had asked her.” You quickly looked away from him, a little embarrassed your jealousy and hurt were coming through.
Garreth shook his head, wanting to reassure you more than anything it wasn’t true. “I never asked her. I never asked anyone, I promise you.”
“I mean… it’s alright if you did, Garreth. You don’t owe me anything.”
He took a moment to take in your words, and they didn’t sit right with him. “I owe you everything.”
You stilled, your heart rate picked up, and you weren’t really sure if you imagined what he had just said.
“It’s you who owes me nothing.” He stepped as close to you as he could without touching you. “But I’d like it if you called me Gar again.” 
You slowly looked up at him and searched his eyes. “You’ve forgiven me?” You asked in a whisper, your throat constricting as your vision began to blur with tears.
He shook his head. “There was never anything to forgive.” He reached up and cupped your face in his hands. A few tears overflowed out of your eyes and he wiped them away with his thumbs. “Walking away from you was the stupidest thing I’ve ever done. And that’s saying something. I’ve done some pretty stupid things.” He tried to jest, and he was elated it got you to smile. “I can be yours. Easily. If you’ll have me.”
You couldn’t speak, and Garreth held his breath while he waited for your answer. After your brain caught up with everything that was happening, you nodded your head. 
Garreth released the breath he was holding and nearly collapsed with relief. He didn’t waste a second more and not so delicately placed his lips atop yours. Your hands moved up to his chest as you kissed him back, fisting the fabric of his coat. This was nowhere near your first kiss together, yet you felt brand new to each other. And you wanted to familiarize yourselves all over again. 
The pot began to sizzle. With his mouth still on yours, Garreth peeked one eye open to check on it. He groaned and tore himself from you, going to stir it. Chuckling, you got the flask ready for him. 
“What a team we are.” Garreth smirked as he scooped the edurus potion into the flask.
You capped it and looked up at him. “Acting like I didn’t do most of the work, are you?”
He smirked. “Tough talk for -” He looked back at you and your amused features sent his insides into a tizzy. “Tough talk for someone who…” His words drifted off and he smiled at you like a dullard. 
You started to laugh and raised your eyebrows at him. “Are you having a stroke?”
“Shut up.” He bashfully looked away from you and hummed, trying to unscramble his brain. “I um - I’m trying to go along and keep the joke going, but you look -” He let out a breathy whew sound. “You look amazing right now and it’s making me nervous.”
Your eyes widened slightly and you went fluttery at his words. It was your turn to feel bashful. You shook your head and playfully shoved him. Then you went up and pecked him on the cheek. “Come on, let’s get this to Deek.” You grabbed his hand and pulled him along.
-
The Room of Requirement’s door formed before you and Garreth. And he couldn’t help but feel a bit of pride. It usually only let you in, but this made it twice now that the room felt he should be in there with you.
You two made your way in and he looked around, confused. “Where would the kneazles be?”
You laced your fingers through his. “This way.” You guided him through the bottom floor vivarium and he was almost getting annoyed at how insane this room was.
“Sweet Merlin, I thought this was a greenhouse or something.” He looked all over, breathing in the fresh air and smiling at all the magical beasts that ran up to sniff and examine him. “Is that a baby puffskein?”
You chuckled. “It is. Could you play with him while I get this to Deek? He’s been extra needy lately.”
“On it.” Garreth released you and knelt down, picking up the tiny creature that could easily fit in one hand. He gave the puffskein some scratches on the head. “How am I supposed to be okay with my girl being around a handsome little devil like you? You could steal her away at any given moment.” The puffskein looked up at him and tilted its head. Garreth let out a little gasp. “And you know it too, you shameless bastard.”
“Despite calling my magical beasts shameless bastards, you seem to be pretty good with them.” You said as you returned, hitching up your dress a bit, and kneeling down next to him.
“What can I say? I’ve learned a thing or two since I started paying attention in beasts class. Had to step up my game when this new girl arrived, you see. Cute thing, adored beasts.”
You smiled at him. “Funny, sounds like how I got so good at potions.”
He glanced at you and that bashfulness returned. You gave him too many butterflies for him to be able to keep his calm. To hide his jittery nerves, he kept up the head scratches on the puffskein. 
A nearby baby mooncalf started to get jealous at the attention the puffskein was getting and ran up to you. You chuckled and picked her up, giving her some scratches behind her ear. You looked over at Garreth, noticing he got quiet. You nudged him with your shoulder. “What are you thinking about?”
He could only glance at you briefly, if he looked at you any longer he’d be a bumbling mess. He cleared his throat. Merlin’s beard, toss out a joke or something, Weasley. “I’m thinking you better not get any ideas from us holding baby beasts.”
You scoffed, but then decided to tease him. “Uh oh. It might be too late for that.”
He slowly set down the puffskein and looked at you with raised brows. “Now now, no need to panic. Just put down the mooncalf, yeah?” 
You let out a shaky breath, playing along. “A - Alright.” You set her down gently, and she ran off to go play with her moon ball. 
Garreth pulled the both of you up to your feet. “Better?”
You fanned your face with your hand as if you needed to cool yourself down. “I think it’s too late. The baby fever’s consuming me. Take me, Gar. I’m ready.”
“I’m afraid I can’t do that.” He took cautious steps backwards to get some distance between you two. “As arousing as that was.”
“Give in, Weasley. It’s our last year at Hogwarts, I think we both know what’s coming next.” You warned. Garreth stepped back even further from you, thinking of an escape plan. Before he could get any further, you bolted after him.
“Get away from me!” He laughed as he ran from you, dodging and weaving through the vivarium to try and shake you. 
“I’m gonna getcha!” 
“No!” You two were laughing hysterically as you ran up and down the vivarium field. “What in Merlin’s name?! How are you so fast in that dress?!” 
“Oh, you’re not escaping the Hogwarts Champion, darling!” You had grabbed a hold of his coat but he slipped out of it, narrowly escaping you.
“Dammit!” You laughed, dropping his coat to the ground.
He left the vivarium and you ran after him. You caught sight of him heading up the stairs. He glanced back at you briefly and realized he hadn’t lost you as much as he thought. 
“Oh shit!” He laughed and picked up the pace. Without thinking he went into the beach vivarium. The sand slowed him down instantly and he kicked off his dress shoes to keep running. 
As soon as you entered the beach vivarium, you kicked off your shoes as well, picking your dress up off the ground and going back after him.
He saw you coming and panicked. He looked back and forth between you and the water. He quickly decided to take off his socks and go to the shore. He saw you slow down and eye him defeatedly. 
“Ha! What’s the matter? Don’t want to get your dress wet? Such a shame.” He looked at you cheekily as he bent down and rolled up his pant legs. He gave you a smug smile and walked further into the water, deep enough to submerge his calves, kicking and splashing tauntingly.
“I can’t believe you’d let me suffer like this.” You meandered up to the water, tentatively dipping your big toe in and nothing more.
He shoved his hands in his pockets and kept the triumphant smile on his face. “Oh don’t pout, this is for the best. We don’t really want little Garreths running around, do we?” His smile faded and his eyes widened when a thought entered his head. “Oh Merlin, little Garreths running around wielding ancient magic… What masochist would want that?”
You shook your head and tried to bite back your amused smile, lifting your dress a little higher and dipping your toe in again. Garreth went a little mad at the sight. Oh no, maybe I’m the masochist who wants that.
Sighing dramatically, your head fell back and you closed your eyes, letting the vivarium's sun warm your face.
Fuck… I really want that. In that moment, there was no doubt in his mind, he was going to get on one knee the second you two graduated from Hogwarts.
“Truce?” You asked.
Garreth could only keep staring.
When he didn’t answer, you opened one eye and peeked over at him. “No truce?”
A small smile tugged at his lips, but it wasn’t a humorous one. It was a simple one, full of love. “Just come here, why don’t you?” He walked through the water towards you and held out his hand. You took it, meeting him halfway and getting the hem of your dress wet.
Garreth couldn’t seem to hold it together anymore. He cupped your face and pulled you in for another kiss, his tongue grazing your bottom lip. He was always amazed at how soft you were, and he wanted you beyond reason right now.
Keeping his mouth on yours, he scooped you up into his arms. 
Your surprised yelp was muffled against his mouth. You pulled away and looked at him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders. You were going to make a joke, but the way his eyes were on you kept your mouth shut. 
He walked the two of you out of the vivarium and his eyes roamed the room. “Direct me to a couch or something. Anywhere for Christ’s sake.”
You pointed across the balcony and giggled. “Over there, you brute.” 
He made his way over with you, leaving a trail of sand in his wake. He set you down and gently guided you to sit on the couch, kissing you all over as he did so. He then placed himself on the ground between your legs and began pushing up your dress. Locking his eyes with yours as he reached under and pulled down your underclothes. 
His member throbbed against the fabric of his pants when he caught a glimpse of your core, but you shut your legs together. He looked up at you in concern. You were biting your lip and looking away from him. 
“What’s wrong?” He went up onto the couch a bit and brought a hand to your cheek to get you to look at him, he pecked the corner of your mouth.
You shook your head and scoffed at yourself, shooting your hands up to cover your face. He smirked when you started snickering and he tried pulling your hands away.
You groaned like you were embarrassed. “I’m really nervous for some reason.”
Garreth chuckled with you and leaned forward to kiss at your neck. “Why are you nervous?” He asked against your skin and you could feel him smiling. “Not to brag, but I’ve seen you naked quite a few times already.”
“I know.” You sighed. “Maybe because it’s been a while or… or…” Your words drifted off as he began to suck on that spot below your ear, he hadn’t forgotten how you liked to be touched. Hopefully he could help put you at ease a little bit more.
He felt your body start to relax and he kissed down your neck. He pulled away to glance at you and you gave him a small nod. He went back to the ground on his knees before you, hitching up your dress again to reveal your heat. His breathing grew heavy and he placed your legs over his shoulders. 
He brought his lips to your folds like an opened mouthed kiss, his tongue tracing along. You jolted a bit at the sensation, feeling a little extra ticklish with it having been a while since he’d last done this, but he kept you steady with a strong hold on your thighs. 
He was starting to lose himself tasting you again after all this time. The wetness of your fluids and his spit mixing together had his member aching. Your breaths came out shallow as you watched him. His eyes were closed as his tongue rediscovered you, his fingernails dug into your thighs, hurting in the best way. He licked up to the top of your slit, and began sucking gently. 
“A - Ah! Garreth!” You whined as your muscles suddenly tensed and twitched at the sensation. He loved hearing you cry his name like that, and he was eager to get more out of you. But a thought occurred to him, and his body stiffened.
He took his mouth off of you and quickly glanced around. “That Deek fellow’s not here right?”
“He’ll be in the vivarium all night.” You said breathily. “Now keep going.” You grabbed his head and pulled him back to you.
“Right, sorry.” He put his mouth back on you and picked up where he left off. 
Your head fell back and you kept one hand on his head, fingers getting a solid grip on his locks. You had started to make the smallest of grinding motions as he kept at you, this was how he always knew you were close. He kept up his tongue patterns and could feel your hips pickup more and more. You let out another whine and gripped his hair with both of your hands then. He held onto your thighs tight when you began to convulse, riding out your pleasure on his face.
You slumped back on the couch, going a little limp, legs sliding off his shoulders. You caught your breath and he wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand. “Still got it.”
“Shut up.” You chuckled as you stood to your feet and he stood with you. Your giggles were muffled when he fused his lips with yours. 
You began undoing his buttons, taking off his vest then going for his shirt. You two broke from your kiss and he looked down to help you, both of your fingers shaky and hurried.
He shrugged off his shirt and went back for your lips as it fell to the ground. His hands gripped your hips, turning you so your back would be to him, keeping his mouth on yours until the last second. He then started undoing the back of your dress, planting open mouthed kisses on your shoulder and nipping your skin here and there as he did so. You could only bite your lip in anticipation as you waited for him to finish. 
Once you felt the dress was loose enough, you shimmied out of it and turned to face him, throwing your arms around his shoulders and claiming his lips again. He held you flush against him, making you feel how much he needed you through his pants.
You tore your lips from his and started unbuckling his belt. He didn’t help you this time, and just watched in a carnal haze as you went for the last of his clothes. Once you had undone his belt and pants you pulled them down, going to your knees as you did so. He hissed a breath through his teeth when you took him in your mouth and his hand shot up to get a gentle hold on your head.
As your mouth moved up and down his length, his breathing picked up and his insides felt like a furnace. But he didn’t want to finish yet, he wanted to be inside you again. He let his head fall back, enjoying it just a moment longer. Getting close enough to the edge, he looked back down at you and pulled himself away from your mouth. There was a line of spit from your tongue to his tip briefly. When it broke, you wiped it from your chin and looked up at him, your features flushed. He nearly burst at the sight.
You stood to your feet and took his hands in yours, guiding him back to the couch. He followed, completely hypnotized by you. You laid back and pulled him down on top of you. He brought his mouth down on yours heartily as he positioned himself between your legs. Breaking the kiss, he looked down at the two of you about to join. He took his member in his hand and rubbed it along your folds, coating himself in your wetness. 
He placed his tip at your entrance and slowly pushed in. You gasped lightly, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and he buried his face into the crook of your neck. It took everything in him to keep his hip thrusts slow and not completely lose himself in you just yet. 
“I missed you.” He sighed against your neck. “I missed you so much.”
You mewled softly at his words and the feel of him filling you. Wrapping your arms around him tighter, you wanted to melt into him more than you ever had before. “I love you.”
"Mmh." With a low groan, he hitched your legs up a bit higher around him, picking up the pace and grinding into you at an even better angle. "Say that again…" 
"I love you." You whimpered as his hips picked up the pace, making you unable to speak as clearly as before.
"I love you." He said back. His breathing heavy in your ear as he tried to bury himself even deeper inside you with each thrust.
The noises you were making had his control start to fray at the seams. Grunts began to escape him as his hips pounded into you. He was nearing his climax again.
“Not yet not yet.” You said breathily, trying to push him back a bit. He nodded his head, a little delirious, but his mind still functioned enough to know you wanted to swap positions. The two of you adjusted so that he was the one on his back and you were on top. He caught his breath as he edged away from finishing again. 
You straddled him, careful not to put him back in you yet. You leaned down and kissed him. He placed one hand on your hip while the other had a grip in your hair, holding you to him like this until he felt he was ready to go again.
“Alright.” He whispered against your lips after a moment, and you shifted back. He let out a slow exhale as you sunk yourself onto him, gripping your hips. 
He was in you fully again, and your heat surrounding him as he lied back was bliss. You began to move up and down on him, resting your hands on his chest as you did so. As much as he wanted you to enjoy yourself up there for as long as your heart desired, he knew he wasn’t going to last much longer. Not with this view of you bouncing on him as you were.
A throaty groan escaped him. "I’m almost there... Keep going.” He panted, furrowing his brows and looking down at your slit going up and down his length. “Fuck I’m about to -”
You withdrew from him and moved to take him in your mouth, he shot his hands to your head and held you on him as he released in your throat, grunting and spasming until there was nothing left.
You swallowed him as you sat up, then wiped at your mouth. “Still got it.” 
Garreth scoffed and threw an arm over his eyes while he recovered, using his free hand to rub your thigh. “Don’t mock me, I’m too vulnerable right now.”
You adjusted so that you were laying on top of him, he held you in his arms and ran his fingers lightly along your back. He looked up at the ceiling, completely at ease as you traced little shapes on his chest. He was exactly where he was supposed to be.
“Is the ball still going?” You asked.
“I think so.” He answered, his voice a little raspy.
“Want to go back before it ends?”
“Not particularly. Do you?”
You shook your head. “No.”
“Good, I want to stay like this a bit longer.”
You nodded your head and sighed. “Me too. After everything… after that last challenge…” Garreth held you tighter, not wanting you to think about such a horrific memory. “Tonight was everything. Thank you.”
Garreth placed his lips on top of your head. Then decided he wanted to be like this with you for more than just a bit longer. “Let me grab my wand.” You nodded your head and shifted so he could get up and search his clothes. “Ah, it’s in my coat.” He picked up his pants and put them back on. “I’ll be right back.”
You sat up to move towards your dress.
“No. Stay right where you are, exactly as you are.” He picked up his shirt, slipping it back on and only doing a few of his buttons. 
You smiled and laid back down on the couch as he walked off.
It didn’t take long for Garreth to find his coat. He saw the baby puffskein and baby mooncalf napping on it, and decided to just grab his wand and leave it. 
Once he did, he glanced around for the moonstone he thought he saw earlier while running for his life from you. A smile tugged at his lips thinking back on it. 
Turning the moonstone he found into a large, furry blanket, he made his way back to you. 
“Don’t worry this blanket came from moonstone.” He said as he splayed it out over you. “No magical beasts were harmed conjuring this.” 
“Thank you.” You sighed gratefully, wrapping the blanket tighter around yourself.
He shot you a smile as he undid his shirt, taking it off again. As he started undoing his belt and pants, he looked at the couch and furrowed his brows. “The couch wasn’t that big before, was it?”
You stiffened and used the blanket to hide your grin.
“Did you enlarge it?”
“No.” Your voice was muffled under the blanket.
“You had your wand this whole time?”
You turned away from him on the couch.
His eyes went wide at you as he pulled down his pants. “You minx! You just let me go out in the cold like that?” He came up and slid under the blanket behind you, pulling you back against him and closing his eyes. He sighed, exhausted. “To think I could have stayed naked this whole time...”
“I tried to get it but you told me to stay where I was.” You argued, the sleepiness clear as day in your voice.
He hummed in amusement. “I did, didn’t I? I’m such an idiot.” He cackled, sleepiness also coming through in his voice. 
“No, you’re sweet.”
It didn’t take long at all for you two to fall asleep in each other’s arms. Dealing with Deek stumbling upon you two and possibly telling his Aunt Matilda seemed like a morning problem.
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