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silentscrying · 1 month ago

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🏀 buzzer beater | chapter FIVE.

nba!gojo x manager!reader

summary: you thought you'd gotten rid of arrogant NBA star satoru gojo when he left the curses after your first year in basketball management. but when your contract is up three years later, you find yourself working with him once again as the manager for the sorcerers. as you navigate playoff season alongside long-time friend ieiri shoko and the sorcerers' insufferable star player, you start to realize his sudden departure from the curses may not have been what it seemed, and maybe gojo isn't exactly the person (or player) you thought he was, either.

warnings: language, minor injury, mentions of smoking, obscene amounts of pen-twirling and cryptic conversation. || sfw. 3.3k words. reminder that characters are aged up (bc tiny high schoolers ain't playin' in the NBA in any universe) and megumi & yuji & co. are only a few years younger than gojo.

FUSHIGURO’S PRESS SCHEDULE is wiped for the rest of the Phantoms series before you even get back to the hotel, and you and Nobara have mediated press releases and fielded questions about his condition—and Gojo and Hanami—back and forth for hours. Fushiguro will be out game four, but he’ll be fine, and Gojo has not been suspended from upcoming games. According to Nobara, Twitter is relieved to hear it.

The internet’s also blowing up over Gojo and Hanami’s almost-fight. You scrolled through Twitter for all of five seconds before someone said something along the lines of satoru gojo grab me by the shirt like that fr and you considered deleting the app entirely.

You’re trying to forget about the whole thing, or at least be pissed at Gojo, but there’s a part of you that can’t help but fixate on how protective he was of Megumi. It’s not like Gojo didn’t know the consequences of getting into a fight. Was it just that his need to put Hanami in his place, to stand up for Megumi, outweighed the threat of suspension?

Not wanting to keep Ieiri up (not that she’s sleeping, but on the off chance that her insomnia isn’t raging tonight, you aren’t looking to ruin it), you make yourself at home in the floor lounge area to finish your work for the night. You wrap up the Nike contract and send it over to the rep.

You waste the rest of the night away with the usual post-game rituals of paperwork and emails and calls, and only when you’ve closed your laptop and are about to head back to the room does Gojo poke his head into the common room.

“Hey,” he says, and it feels weirdly simple.

“Hey?”

Gojo takes this as an invitation, dropping into the chair on the opposite side of the table, boneless with the day’s exhaustion. He’s got a nondescript Nike tee and a pair of gray sweats on, and he’s ditched the headband so his white hair is falling haywire over his eyes.

For a second he says nothing, and then he glances at the pen on your notepad and picks it up, twirling it between two fingers. You roll your eyes.

“What’s up, Six?”

“I wanted to thank you for taking care of the Nike contract. And Fushiguro’s press schedule.” He clears his throat, like there’s something else he wants to say, and you wait him out. Without meeting your eyes, he says, “And I’m sorry for losing it on the court today. I know that, uh. Makes things harder for you. And Kugisaki.”

You freeze. It’s an unexpected gratitude. You’re starting to find that the apology, though, isn’t so unexpected. He’s been doing an awful lot of apologizing lately. It’s honestly stopped taking you so off guard. “Uh. Yeah, no problem. Just doing my job.”

“You’re good at it,” he says, pointing your pen at you. “Your job.”

“Thanks.” You laugh a little. “How’s he doing?”

Gojo hums absentmindedly and tosses the pen into the air, catching it with his other hand and resuming twirling it between his fingers. “Better, I think,” he says. “He’s with Yuji. Sleeping. Freaked him out a little, I think.”

Bits of your conversation from the locker room flash through your mind. Gojo’s hesitation, his anger, the questions upon questions building up in the back of your throat, the buzzer interrupting whatever answer you might have received.

“You’ve been… a little off, lately.” You bite your lower lip, debating whether to broach the topic. But his too-bright eyes are already trained on you, inquisitive, and the words are leaving your mouth before you know you’re saying them. “I mean, is it just playoffs? Or is there something else going on?”

He opens his mouth, closes it. You don’t often see Gojo speechless.

“It’s—ah, didn’t mean to worry you, Miss Manager.” He grins, covering up whatever emotion he was about to display with charm, that typical Gojo arrogance.

“Gojo.”

“You don’t have to call me that, you know.” You just look at him, waiting out the deflection. He sighs. Drops the pen back onto the notepad. Taps his fingers on the arm of the chair.

“It’s just San Diego,” he confesses after a moment. “I mean, you know. And Yaga doesn’t want us thinking that far ahead, but I can't help it. I just have this gut feeling they're making it to championships. So if we're really gonna win this thing, it's going to be us against them.”

“Not too late for Manhattan to whoop your ass,” you say, but you’re not serious and he knows it. He cocks a brow and snorts. “What is it about the Curses? Just that they know the way you play? That you’re on bad terms?”

Gojo grimaces. “It’s not necessarily that we parted ways on a bad note. More that Geto’s gonna do some weird psychological shit to trip me out, me and Gu—uh, Fushiguro.”

“Fushiguro.” You tilt your head, examining, searching, and decide to push it just a little. “Earlier, in the locker room—what were you going to say?”

The silence isn’t uncomfortable, but it’s long as Gojo searches for the right words, one hand tapping an anxious rhythm on the tabletop. You flick the pen so that it rolls off the notepad, stopping in front of him. Chuckling, he picks it up and resumes using it to occupy his hands. “You were right. That we didn’t play together in college. I, uh, actually met Megumi before he was in college. He was… like, the best point guard I’d ever fuckin’ seen. Recruited all over the place.” He sighs. “Not by our university, though. Probably—for the best.”

There’s a lot to this story, to this history. You know it the way you know Ieiri’s smoking out the hotel window right now—unseen, but inarguable, and not yours to comment on.

You’ll take what he can give you, for now.

“I was on a scouting trip when I met him. The trip was actually for the other team, but I’d never seen a point guard like that.”

Fair enough. Megumi is genuinely one of the best players you’ve ever seen.

“And I asked him about going D1, and he said he couldn’t.”

Couldn’t. What possible reason could he have behind that? Did he not think he was good enough? “But he did go D1,” you prompt.

“I… guess I kind of did him a favor?”

“What does that—”

“It’s not that I don’t want to tell you,” Gojo blurts, like he wants to talk you down before you can accuse him of something. “It’s just that it’s not my thing to tell, you know what I mean?”

You sigh. “Yeah. I do.”

He drags a hand across his eyes. “I got closer to him than I meant to. Him and his sister, actually. Her name’s Tsumiki.” He smiles softly. “The sweetest girl. And we kept in touch throughout his college career. And then he was drafted here.” He shifts in his chair. “And I was traded here.”

Megumi told you himself that’s not the full story. And you were there when Gojo broke things off with the Curses. It wasn’t some simple trade. But you don’t push. He’s already told you more than you anticipated. You feel like you’re on the cusp of some revelation, some conclusion, but you don’t have all the pieces and you know Gojo won’t—can’t—give them to you.

“I think he feels like he owes me,” Gojo confesses quietly, staring at nothing. “Even though I always tell him he doesn’t owe me shit.” His admission is soft, almost like he doesn’t realize you’re listening.

His gaze snaps back to you.

“It sounds kinda stupid, and I know they’re not that much younger than I am, but they’re like… I don’t know. Family. So when Geto pulled that stupid shit with the Curses, I just—” He drags a palm down his face. “Sorry. I know they were your team too. I don’t mean to… like, try and put ideas in your head about them. It’s fine, seriously.”

Another sorry. You study him for a long moment, him looking more out of his element than you’ve maybe ever seen him, aside from that day with Geto. “Is that why you haven’t told me?” He looks down. “You didn’t want to influence my feelings about the Curses?”

It’s actually such an absurd, but weirdly considerate, line of thinking that you scoff out loud. “You know I left them, right? Same as you.”

“Your contract was up.”

“Gojo, I hated it there,” you say, surprising yourself with your own candor. “They were assholes. It was…” You trail off, wondering whether you should admit it. That it was worse when Gojo left.

You shrug. “This team is better than I could’ve hoped for.” You grin. “But I did not follow you here.”

“Oh, sure you didn’t,” he teases, and whatever unease sat in the air between you before melts away.

He throws the pen up in the air again, and this time it arcs forward. Your hand shoots out to catch it at the same time as his, and you suddenly find yourself staring at Gojo’s hand wrapped around yours, the pen tight in your fist. His hand almost entirely encompasses your own, and his grip is loose enough that you could shake it off if you want to.

He’s warm.

You’re about to say something when you look at his forearm, and realize that the skin has turned a mottled yellow. Before you know what you’re doing, you’re wrenching your hand out of his and grabbing him by the arm, pulling him closer to you, examining the rapidly darkening bruise.

“Did Hanami do this?” And you’re surprised by how angry it makes you. “Jesus, Gojo.”

“It’s fine,” he says softly, and he doesn’t try to pull away. You meet his gaze, strands of white falling into his eyes.

“It’s not.”

Time feels suspended around you, the heat of Gojo’s bruising skin on your palm, his eyes locked onto yours like there’s something worth reading there. You clear your throat. “You’ll just have to kick his fucking ass, then.” You let go of his arm, watch as he pulls it back to his side, drops the pen on the table.

“Guess so.”

“Rest up, Six. Phantoms won’t beat themselves.”

“Won’t they?” Gojo chuckles and rises from the seat, tapping the table in a farewell before taking his leave.

“Gojo?” He stops in his tracks, tilts his head like a confused puppy. It’s almost endearing. “Thanks,” you say. “For telling me, I mean.”

He grins, a surprised little smile. “Thanks for listening.”

When he’s gone, you stare at the place he was sitting, the pen he was twirling in his fingers. Thinking about the person you thought he was, the person he might be.

You’re so goddamn confused.

—

Hanami is starting for the Phantoms. That’s their first mistake.

You’ve seen your team pretty divided on a breadth of issues, from which pizza joint to eat at last night to political stances to play strategies. But the one thing they’re unanimous on is that nobody can hurt Megumi Fushiguro and get away with it.

Toge starts in Megumi’s place, which means Ino subs out pretty quickly so that Toge and Yuta are on the court together. But Ino doesn’t seem to mind, leaning in as he swaps out with Yuta to tell you, “I think they might kill Hanami by the end of the half.”

You should probably oppose murder as a general moral standard, but at the moment you kind of just want to see him get absolutely decimated.

There are a number of players you really haven’t seen angry before, Toge most of all—he’s not a vengeful person, not petty, but now he’s playing like Hanami has always been his rival, like he wants to drive him into the court and kick him while he’s down.

Gojo stays on Hanami’s heels like his giant, leering shadow. He’s making comments out of the corner of his mouth, and you don’t even want to imagine what kind of shit he’s saying. Hanami can barely move around on the court, let alone get a shot in, and you can see his frustration building.

Eventually he gets fed up and shoves his shoulder into Gojo’s chest to get past him with the ball, and the ref fouls him. Gojo grins for the entire duration of the free throw, practically dancing to his place on the court.

You’re trying to hide your grin, and by the look Nobara’s giving you, it’s not working.

She texts faster than anyone you’ve ever seen. Apparently she’s keeping Megumi up to date, because Yuji made him stay at the hotel and said if he turned on the TV with a concussion he’d sing “the concrete jungle wet dream tomato song” the whole flight home.

“Are you doing this in a group chat?” you ask, leaning over her screen. It’s called fushiguNO, and you laugh at loud as you realize it’s only Nobara, Yuji, and Megumi.

“It’s mostly me and Yuji. Fushiguro just lurks and dislikes every text with his name in it,” she says.

Over the course of the first quarter, your guys whoop Hanami’s ass. They’re pulling every trick in the book to make his life hell without getting called. It only works sometimes—Yaga has to tell them to cut back when they start running up fouls, especially Gojo, though there’s really no heat behind his voice. It’s just a practical matter. He wants to see Hanami get his ass beat just as much as the rest of them.

After halftime, the Phantoms coach pulls Hanami and doesn’t put him back on. It feels like even more of a victory than the 79-56 score.

As third quarter starts, most of the usual starters aren’t even on the court—they’re toying with the Phantoms. Kusakabe lets Junpei on the floor for more time than he’s ever gotten. You catch a few Phantoms fans slipping out early. There’s no coming back from this.

Gojo probably hasn’t had this little playing time in years, but he doesn’t seem to mind, at least as long as Hanami’s off the court. The point deficit has gotten so insane he could take a nap on the floor and it wouldn’t matter.

Anyway, the Sorcerers fucking sweep.

They win against Manhattan, four games in a row, and just like that the first round is over. It’s hardly a competition. You watch the Phantoms fans file out of the stadium dejected, their home team knocked out of the playoffs before they could really get going.

Ino grabs you by the arm and tugs you into a sweaty team huddle, a few of the other guys doing the same to Nobara and a very reluctant Ieiri. “Semis!” Hakari shouts, and the rest of the team echoes it, jumping around and putting each other in headlocks and being all-around obnoxious boys. Yuta hugs you and you smile, and then Nobara has Megumi on a video call, and then Yaga herds the team out of the gym with a barely-repressed smile.

“Baltimore!” Gojo hollers, coming to walk alongside you. “Gojo City. What do you think of that, Alley-oop?”

“Charm City,” you correct.

“That’s what I said.” He winks.

You roll your eyes. “I think I’m glad we have a fucking week before we have to fly back up to New England,” you say, but you can’t help grinning back at him. The week will be full of practices and film studies for the team, but you’ll at least have a bit more free time once everything is set up with Baltimore. You might even make it a whole day without seeing Satoru.

Oh, shit.

Shit.

When did you start thinking of him on a first-name basis?

“We swept specifically so you could have some free time,” he lies, and you chuckle.

“Giving yourself an awful lot of credit there.”

“That’s what he does best,” Kento drawls from Gojo’s other side, and then Ieiri catches up to you and shoos the boys off.

“Get your asses changed and out the door,” you call after the guys. “We have a flight to catch!”

The team disappears into the locker room, and you, Ieiri, and Nobara catch a cab back to the hotel. You settle the bill, make sure everyone’s luggage is accounted for, and find yourself doing a headcount on the team jet within two hours—an impressive turnaround, by their standards.

You throw Yaga a thumbs-up and head to your seat beside Ieiri, tugging your laptop from your bag to work on the short flight home.

You do not envy anyone who has to fly with a concussion.

Megumi spends most of the flight home with his face tucked into Yuji’s shoulder, headphones on and nose scrunched against the air pressure, and Yuji doesn’t stop rubbing reassuring circles on his shoulder the entire time. Yeah, you’re pretty fucking sure there’s something going on there.

Beside you, Ieiri is way too invested in a sudoku puzzle while you work furiously on your laptop, scribbling notes in the margins of your planner and reading up on the Wolverines.

After an hour or so, Ieiri gets up to go to the bathroom. You’re considering sprawling yourself over her vacant seat when Gojo slides into it instead.

“Well, excuse you.” You close your laptop before he gets any ideas about messing with your work, turning to him expectantly. “What?”

He sticks his bottom lip out in a pout. “I can’t spend time with my super lonely manager?”

“Ieiri left two seconds ago.”

“A long time to be in solitary confinement,” he says solemnly, leaning back and making himself at home in Ieiri’s seat. “Whatcha doin’?”

“I was working, until someone decided he needed attention.”

“Working on what?”

Resigned to the conversation, you maneuver yourself so you’re leaning against the window, one foot up on your seat. “Stuff for Baltimore.”

“Ah. Don't even worry about Baltimore. Non-issue. We'll win."

"So humble," you mutter. You glance at the printed bracket clipped into your planner, noting how the rest of the Eastern Conference is shaping up. "Well, they're higher seeded than you. Watch yourself."

Gojo waves his hand like this is irrelevant. "We got 'em. And then we'll play the Samurai, and it'll be great."

You do really want to play the Savannah Samurai. They've already won three games in their own series. Technically, you won't know if they sweep until tonight, but there's really no world in which they lose to the eighth seed. You played with their manager in college, Ieiri's friends with their trainer, and there are a bunch of connections among the players, too—trades, college teammates, even family ties.

"Hey, you know how Itadori’s half-brother plays for Savannah?” You nod. “Well. According to Yuji, he says their trainer is very not thrilled about the possibility seeing me again. Which is absurd, I think. I am an angel walking God’s green earth.”

“You’re annoying.”

“And so charming.” He nods, like you’re the one who said it and he’s just agreeing. “Just giving you a heads up that Utahime hates me. So you can defend my honor in the conference finals.”

“Bold of you to assume we don’t have a secret Anti-Gojo society already.” You’re well aware Iori Utahime isn’t Gojo’s biggest fan. You know they went to high school together, and you’re honestly just impressed she hasn’t killed him yet.

Gojo gasps. “You wouldn’t.”

“She would,” Ieiri says, standing beside Gojo with arms crossed and brows raised. “I don’t recall inviting you.” She glances over Gojo’s head at you. “Do you?”

“No, ma’am.”

“Shokooo,” Gojo protests, but she jerks a thumb over her shoulder and he sighs dramatically and vacates her seat. He grins at you. “Don’t miss me too much.”

You scoff as he retreats back to his own seat, probably to bother Kento. Ieiri sits down beside you and gives you a weird look.

“What?”

She just smirks and goes back to her sudoku.

directory. || prev. || next.

jjk taglist open: just send me a message!

@shutuppeter @mikikkoo @reactwithjan

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #megumi fushiguro #yuji itadori #nba basketball #yuta okkotsu #geto suguru #ino takuma #ryomen sukuna #shoko ieiri #jjk hanami #nanami kento #hakari kinji #itafushi

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marengogo · 3 months ago

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UGH!-8: I Tried So Hard and Got So Far, But In The End, IT WILL NOT MATTER.

A playlist of all angsty songs made by Yoongi

[Music is a very big part of my life and I’m MOSTLY INCAPABLE of writing without music, so I just thought I'd share what I am listening to while writing this]

–🐺–🐺–🐺–

Hello my Kindred Gurls, Bois and Enbys,

Not sure how everyone is feeling, exhausted is one good guess, but I am sure there are many more emotions floating around that my tired little brain can’t even recall at the moment. For the good part of last week I was working on a post called 431 Context Not Found about some Big Blue Bird ARMY (aka 3B ARMY or even VPD …) and the way they’ve been dealing with “various things” and just as I was about to resume writing it, I went on the Blue Bird App, and got triggered. So I decided that my 3B ARMY post can wait, and I just had to let this out real quick. As always, my opinions, my rant, my delusional ass. Okay.

Within the context of music, the second you say the word ARMY, everyone may not really know what we are truly about, but they all know who we are fans of. V1P, bl1nks, c4rats, ex0ls, etc, I learned this names because of fan wars which take place daily on the Blue Bird app. In the same way in which I quickly learned that every group has a fandom, but not every fandom has a group, at least not in the way ARMY has BTS, and vice versa.

None of us were attracted to the boys because we saw "perfection".

Sure, if you are a post-2017 ARMY, BTS was that group, the type of group that just kept winning and that whatever they touched turned into gold. However, the moment we all got into the fandom, we all got to properly know the boys and we all quickly found out they were far from perfect, right?

Joonie is smart as hell but some of everyday life skills are still a conundrum for him and an obstacle within life itself. Jin gives Confidence classes, but was the one member who had to learn everything from scratch and sometimes he lets that bother him. Yoongi is literally a musical genius, a very kindhearted man with many silent emotions who is often misunderstood, and rarely understood. Hobi dance master extraordinaire, who is basically scared of anything that moves, but also quite critical of anything that doesn’t move in his life. Jimin, Jimin, jImin he is the one member who is sure to not disappoint on a stage, he owns the presence, but gets so easily lost off of it, trusting too much, but relying too little. Tae vocal range like few, just like is society knowledge, yet many a time, he knows so much, that he inadvertently ends up understanding so little. Jeon Jungkook, Golden Maknae Jeon Jungkook, the boy who can do it all, but is also very aware of what he doesn't want, whether you like it or not.

Because we as ARMY are FAR from perfect, we naturally got close to them, who also are just as imperfect. Yet, we, as Global/Western as we are, never stopped to think what it meant to value imperfection in their world, the East, which still seems to value perfection above all. And that was one of our shortsights, because we are basically citizens of the world, we try our best to include everyone’s point of you into consideration, but you know who doesn’t? Kpoppies. They are aware they stan Asian artists and also transferred themselves into the Ease mentally, so even though they value many superficial things, above all, they sometimes seem to know how to play their game better. When they agree with us that they paved the way, when they fall asleep on WEVERSE, when they do Try-Not-Laugh with us, when they stay up playing games with us, when they are not amused by us, when they scold us, when they randomly start lives … that’s not Idol behaviour. That’s Tannie's behaviour with ARMY.

So no matter how much we want to be there for them sometimes, no matter how much we understand how unfairly they are treated, by their peers, other fandoms, and the world honestly, there is one thing we really must do. WE MUST STICK TOGETHER. We must be united because in this type of rigged game, one of the ways to change the fate of the game is by numbers and realistically speaking, if we could only agree to be on a united front ARMY would have COLOSSAL NUMBERS. Now, this is the post that triggered me:

These people obviously don’t give a flying fuck of how they get to have a connection with the BillBoards. Who cares about the 7 boys who literally worked their ass to make sure that people like this 3 can just stroll on their red carpet like nothing. This, as shown by the tweet below, was an event prepared by Billboard to find the next BTS. These people are literally ALL THERE for an event that is aimed at finding someone who is better than BTS and nobody is batting an eye. They are all seeing it as an achievement … 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡.

Which is when something snapped in my tiny little pea brain.

SK Media and the Big 3 had probably somehow hoped that them going to the military would reduce their power and popularity as it has done with everyone who was ever anyone in their country to that point. YET, THERE IS BANGTAN, GOING STRONG AF. Solos thriving, Documentaries selling, Shows popping, and Accolades piling. It's like nothing has changed. But one thing didi change. The boys are now “separated” which makes them weaker and an easier target in their eyes.

Joonie - From the moment chapter 2 started my man saw no peace. ANY WORD HE UTTERED, ANY PICTURE HE POSTED he was attacked for, hate tweet after hate tweet after hate tweet. I mean … crazy.

Jin - They tried to get him down by interfering with his Paris walk during the olympics or just getting into his WEVERSE lives and making him a martyr for a cause he didn't cause. And now he is being chosen to represent SK, after this whole SK Media debacle … it is tough.

Yoongi - This was in my eyes a setup, but also unfortunately, served to them on a silver platter. Not really a DU1 per say but every fandom and all K-media will endeavor to keep using this against him and the band.

Hobi - The boycotting of his album unfortunately was quite the success, which is a pity because HOTS is a darn good album. And now he is about to get out in 50 days or so, and Media will be all over him; what will happen?

Jimin - They’ve always targeted his dad, from the very bitter beginning. And now it has escalated to a level that is kinda disgusting. Majority of ARMY are not going to do anything about it, because they somehow seem to be very slow to move when it comes to JM, but hey, what can I say. And let’s not forget all the attempts at ruining his promotion from all the fandoms + 1. Fuck all of y’all for real.

Tae - Whether Tae and Jennie actually dated or not, they were in Paris for a fact. It wasn’t cosplayers, it wasn’t a dream, it was them. But this cannot be used against him as a bone for hungry dogs. Allkpop has been baiting people with a scoop about the matter for quite some time now. It is even pinned on their blue bird profile. He also has the McD picture on his account, which even though it was taken before the boycott it will also be used against him for an endless amount of time.

Jungkook - Not only do we have fandoms of other non-kpop bands getting together so that he doesn't win anything at the VMAs, he still has the Scooter association tied to him which is not going away any time soon.

Bangtan - “Let’s literally call upon EVERYONE in the world to find the new BTS”

They’ve been trying to destroy us, by attacking and singling out member by member, and even just collectively, using boycotters, solos, shippers and some “ARMY” themselves, and they’ve been doing a darn good job so far. I-Army and K-army fighting. ARMY pretending luke shippers and solos don’t exist. Boycotters are still trying to make their way in. Baby ARMY still being born and having no “Parent” ARMY to help them in this times of “war”. It’s all a bit of a mess isn’t it?

So it all looks like shit right now, and it should very much feel like shit as well, like every time you open the blue Bird App, you should feel like wanting to throw your phone out. Unfortunately we can’t get shippers, solos and boycotters to listen but for everyone else, it doesn't matter our present differences, we can keep fighting once the boys are back together, like it is all well and good we all came together for Yoongi, but it ain't’ over. WE NEED TO FIND A WAY FOR ALL OF US TO BE UNITED UNTIL 2025. Us, the fans who believed in the perfectly imperfect boys, who at the same time constantly are surprised by us, the perfectly imperfect fans.

We are the only way out for our boys to be able to get back in.

But in order to win this game, we need to sit down and study all the rules, so we can figure out how to play them at their game. And it is also INCREDIBLY IMPORTANT to understand that no matter who your bias is, as things stand right now, they are stronger as a group, mentally and emotionally, because they are all they’ve got, besides us. FOR REAL. So if you love your bias, uplift their members and you'll see them thriving more than ever, because they are not going to shine, while any of their members are suffering. GUARANTEED. We have less than a year before they all get out and the one thing I think we should probably work on is learning to multitask. We can stand up for Yoongi, while protecting JM’s family, while voting for JK, protecting Tae’s privacy, letting Joonie just enjoy his music, while welcoming Hobi in the least media oriented way, while supporting Jin … 🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡🤡. Yeah, it's a lot, but who better than flawed/deranged bitches to carry out a seemingly impossible task?

Always respectfully yours 🫰🏾💜

Marengo.

#BTS is 7 #BTS has ARMY and ARMY has BTS

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girlboss-enthusiast · 8 months ago

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Please tell us how to get into IT without a degree! I have an interview for a small tech company this week and I’m going in as admin but as things expand I can bootstrap into a better role and I’d really appreciate knowing what skills are likely to be crucial for making that pivot.

Absolutely!! You'd be in a great position to switch to IT, since as an admin, you'd already have some familiarity with the systems and with the workplace in general. Moving between roles is easier in a smaller workplace, too.

So, this is a semi-brief guide to getting an entry-level position, for someone with zero IT experience. That position is almost always going to be help desk. You've probably heard a lot of shit about help desk, but I've always enjoyed it.

So, here we go! How to get into IT for beginners!

The most important thing on your resume will be

✨~🌟Certifications!!🌟~✨

Studying for certs can teach you a lot, especially if you're entirely new to the field. But they're also really important for getting interviews. Lots of jobs will require a cert or degree, and even if you have 5 years of experience doing exactly what the job description is, without one of those the ATS will shunt your resume into a black hole and neither HR or the IT manager will see it.

First, I recommend getting the CompTIA A+. This will teach you the basics of how the parts of a computer work together - hardware, software, how networking works, how operating systems work, troubleshooting skills, etc. If you don't have a specific area of IT you're interested in, this is REQUIRED. Even if you do, I suggest you get this cert just to get your foot in the door.

I recommend the CompTIA certs in general. They'll give you a good baseline and look good on your resume. I only got the A+ and the Network+, so can't speak for the other exams, but they weren't too tough.

If you're more into development or cybersecurity, check out these roadmaps. You'll still benefit from working help desk while pursuing one of those career paths.

The next most important thing is

🔥🔥Customer service & soft skills🔥🔥

Sorry about that.

I was hired for my first ever IT role on the strength of my interview. I definitely wasn't the only candidate with an A+, but I was the only one who knew how to handle customers (aka end-users). Which is, basically, be polite, make the end-user feel listened to, and don't make them feel stupid. It is ASTOUNDING how many IT people can't do that. I've worked with so many IT people who couldn't hide their scorn or impatience when dealing with non-tech-savvy coworkers.

Please note that you don't need to be a social butterfly or even that socially adept. I'm autistic and learned all my social skills by rote (I literally have flowcharts for social interactions), and I was still exceptional by IT standards.

Third thing, which is more for you than for your resume (although it helps):

🎇Do your own projects🎇

This is both the most and least important thing you can do for your IT career. Least important because this will have the smallest impact on your resume. Most important because this will help you learn (and figure out if IT is actually what you want to do).

The certs and interview might get you a job, but when it comes to doing your job well, hands-on experience is absolutely essential. Here are a few ideas for the complete beginner. Resources linked at the bottom.

Start using the command line. This is called Terminal on Mac and Linux. Use it for things as simple as navigating through file directories, opening apps, testing your connection, that kind of thing. The goal is to get used to using the command line, because you will use it professionally.

Build your own PC. This may sound really intimidating, but I swear it's easy! This is going to be cheaper than buying a prebuilt tower or gaming PC, and you'll learn a ton in the bargain.

Repair old PCs. If you don't want to or can't afford to build your own PC, look for cheap computers on Craiglist, secondhand stores, or elsewhere. I know a lot of universities will sell old technology for cheap. Try to buy a few and make a functioning computer out of parts, or just get one so you can feel comfortable working in the guts of a PC.

Learn Powershell or shell scripting. If you're comfortable with the command line already or just want to jump in the deep end, use scripts to automate tasks on your PC. I found this harder to do for myself than for work, because I mostly use my computer for web browsing. However, there are tons of projects out there for you to try!

Play around with a Raspberry Pi. These are mini-computers ranging from $15-$150+ and are great to experiment with. I've made a media server and a Pi hole (network-wide ad blocking) which were both fun and not too tough. If you're into torrenting, try making a seedbox!

Install Linux on your primary computer. I know, I know - I'm one of those people. But seriously, nothing will teach you more quickly than having to compile drivers through the command line so your Bluetooth headphones will work. Warning: this gets really annoying if you just want your computer to work. Dual-booting is advised.

If this sounds intimidating, that's totally normal. It is intimidating! You're going to have to do a ton of troubleshooting and things will almost never work properly on your first few projects. That is part of the fun!

Resources

Resources I've tried and liked are marked with an asterisk*

Professor Messor's Free A+ Training Course*

PC Building Simulator 2 (video game)

How to build a PC (video)

PC Part Picker (website)*

CompTIA A+ courses on Udemy

50 Basic Windows Commands with Examples*

Mac Terminal Commands Cheat Sheet

Powershell in a Month of Lunches (video series)

Getting Started with Linux (tutorial)* Note: this site is my favorite Linux resource, I highly recommend it.

Getting Started with Raspberry Pi

Raspberry Pi Projects for Beginners

/r/ITCareerQuestions*

Ask A Manager (advice blog on workplace etiquette and more)*

Reddit is helpful for tech questions in general. I have some other resources that involve sailing the seas; feel free to DM me or send an ask I can answer privately.

Tips

DO NOT work at an MSP. That stands for Managed Service Provider, and it's basically an IT department which companies contract to provide tech services. I recommend staying away from them. It's way better to work in an IT department where the end users are your coworkers, not your customers.

DO NOT trust remote entry-level IT jobs. At entry level, part of your job is schlepping around hardware and fixing PCs. A fully-remote position will almost definitely be a call center.

DO write a cover letter. YMMV on this, but every employer I've had has mentioned my cover letter as a reason to hire me.

DO ask your employer to pay for your certs. This applies only to people who either plan to move into IT in the same company, or are already in IT but want more certs.

DO NOT work anywhere without at least one woman in the department. My litmus test is two women, actually, but YMMV. If there is no woman in the department in 2024, and the department is more than 5 people, there is a reason why no women work there.

DO have patience with yourself and keep an open mind! Maybe this is just me, but if I can't do something right the first time, or if I don't love it right away, I get very discouraged. Remember that making mistakes is part of the process, and that IT is a huge field which ranges from UX design to hardware repair. There are tons of directions to go once you've got a little experience!

Disclaimer: this is based on my experience in my area of the US. Things may be different elsewhere, esp. outside of the US.

I hope this is helpful! Let me know if you have more questions!

#answers.txt #feel free to reblog with more advice btw

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dyingbowlofpetunias · 1 year ago

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Something Steddie that I found in my notes app (can't remember where I was going with this but it's cute)

Softly Steve let his fingertips glide along Eddie's arm, where the fine hairs were standing on end and goosebumps covered every inch of skin.

It was dark in the theatre, but the screen periodically provided enough light for him to see his boyfriends face.

Finally he slid his hand into Eddie's, which was a little sweaty from all the excitement.

To say his boyfriend had been excited for this day, was an understatement. Ever since before they had even started filming the project he'd been counting the days. Obviously he also hadn't slept a wink all night, even though Steve had begged him to.

Gosh how he loved everything about Eddie. As he was studying him from the side, that was everything Steve could think about. How much he loved every single thing about this weirdo. Even when he drove him crazy sometimes. When he saw those dark eyes light up with joy there was nothing else he could dream of.

His boyfriend on the other hand had no eyes for Steve at all right now, but that was okay because the way his gaze was following everything on screen frantically and his eyes lit up more and more with every second, made Steve fall in love with him even that much more.

In all things that mattered, he was still that bright-eyed teenage boy that had Steve so captured all those years ago. Only Eddies hair was shorter now. Not going in wild waves down to his chest, but short unruly curls standing off in all directions. Steve still loved to bury his hands in those curls every chance he got. And those little corkscrew that formed when Eddie got a little sweaty, that Steve got to push behind his ears… he loved them the most.

He leaned his head against Eddie's shoulder and his boyfriend finally glanced at him for a split second.

"Aren't you watching?!" he whispered, sounding deeply offended.

Steve hid a grin in the crook of the other's neck and placed a few light kisses there. Eddie, who still didn't have time to turn his head, took their intertwined hands and placed a kiss on Steve’s knuckles.

Steve sighed and resumed his watch of Eddie's reaction. He was sure they would see this movie at least five more times this week, so it wasn't a big deal if he missed some -or all- of it anyway.

That evening, while they were walking home and Eddie wouldn’t stop rambling on about Frodo and Blimbo and what kind of new technology they apparently used for Goblin, Steve decided for good that he had to keep this freak in his life forever.

#steddie #stranger things #eddie munson #steve harrington #maybe i posted this already but i literally cant remember #i think i wanted to write a whole oneshot but I don't remember the premise beyond this

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bytmm · 5 months ago

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001

I’ve gotten fired before, multiple times, actually. Taught me a lot about myself. Taught me so much that I found the job I’m here to talk about.

2020 was a crazy time, COVID changed the world. That year I turned 30, spent it alone watching Man Utd play Leicester in my parents house, they won 2-0 but after the match, I knew things had to change. I couldn’t keep living the way I did.

A year later, I got THE job of a lifetime or so I thought. I got the opportunity to work in football, developing a major corporation’s voice and tone as they foraged into the crazy world of football. 3 and half years later, multi million followers later and a ton of viral moments, I’m on the outside looking in, again. I got laid off.

I love football/soccer, ask anyone who knows me, that sport means everything and then some. It’s all I’ve known aside from my family, it’s been with me since I could crawl.

I’m grateful for my previous employer. They gave me a look into something I never thought of doing but something I should’ve done in middle school, take steps to work in football.

Getting laid off, let’s go there. I’ll never forget February 13, 2024. Day before Valentine’s Day, I felt like Ralph Wigum when Lisa broke his heart. I knew something was off that day and getting that zoom invite that I was part of “budget cuts,” yeah that hurt.

My mind replays it daily, I constantly think what could I have done to keep my job, was I that bad, did I deserve it? Then the negativity starts to take over like Venom’s mask.

This isn’t something that I ever thought I’d share. Just thoughts to myself and my friends. Throughout these few years, I’ve alienated and lost a few great ones partly because of my lack of communication, my ego, and my inability to express myself. I’m sorry to everyone and anyone who I have hurt in these last 4 years, I can only ask for forgiveness and try to be better than yesterday.

That’s neither here nor there. Getting laid off sucks. It comes in waves, 4 months in and I’m still reeling.

Applying for this job, that job, taking this project, that project and you’re still treading water. Barely surviving.

You try to network, you try to ask for help, you try to pray but nothing changes… in fact things are getting worse.

What does one do when you’ve reached your wits end? You don’t come from money but you need it, badly.

I only wrote this because someone else might be going through something similar, on your 300th job app, your 1000th resume review, another cover letter, another recruiter ghosting, another LinkedIn message ignored.

I get it. Everyone has their own shit, you don’t want to burden anyone so you just stay silent.

I get it. I live it.

No words can ease the pain, stress and downright embarrassment of joblessness, despite all of your efforts to try and find work, find community, there's nothing and it sucks.

All I can say is, keep fighting. One footstep at a time, babies learn to walk by falling and hurting themselves. Keep trying to walk despite the pain.

I don’t know what the future holds for me, I want to work in football, I want to tell stories that matter for the liblack boys and girls who love football. I want to speak to and for a community that doesn’t see themselves in spaces other than the pitch.

Being a creative person is a gift and oftentimes it feels more like a curse. Maybe I should have gone to law school, maybe I should’ve studied tech and learned to code. Might’ve been miserable but at least the bills would’ve been paid.

I say this with love, whoever reads this, thank you for your time and reading my thoughts.

I wish the best for you and yours.

Keep fighting and chasing your dreams. ❤️

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stormee-jiiva · 2 years ago

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The Flame of Peace

Can you tell what happened today lmao, I also ate my fingernails so now I can't type properly and I write on impulse on the tumblr app so rip there's probably so many mistakes lol I'm onto Sunbreak soon hopefully :>

@auraee I summon thee fellow hunter B) come get some food

Edit: AAAAHHH I FORGOT TAGS 😭

Monster Hunter AU!

Hunter!Kyōjurō Rengoku x Hunter!MC

Warnings: not at all proofread

Kyōjurō paced amongst the people of Kamura, His older styled Rathalos armour glittering with every distant flash of lightning. You'd been gone for hours, 2 hours, 34 minutes and 29 seconds. 30, 31, 32, 34-

"They'll be okay lad." Elder Fugen spoke, breaking Kyōjurō's counting streak. He moved his gaze from the stone tiles at his feet to the towering elder at his side, eyes shimmering with emotions. Worry, Love, Fear, all swimming amongst glistening hues of red and gold. Elder Fugen smiled a reassuring smile before Kyōjurō resumed his pacing.

The source of The Rampage had been found. Two Elder Dragons now identified as 'Wind Serpent Ibushi' and 'Thunder Serpent Narwa'. The two had somehow been able to resonate with the resident twins Hinoa and Minoto, they'd been the cause of countless years of pain and destruction for Kamura amongst other nearby regions... and now, the guild was sending you to deal with what was left of them after the previous encounters.

Kyōjurō started to pace slightly faster, brows pinching just those few millimeters further with each passing minute. Kamura was relying on a single person with their palico and palamute at their side to defeat two gods. And yet somehow this wasn't an uncommon occurrence. Few could forget the tales of hunters across both The Old World and The New taking on legendary beasts with only their palico at their side. Of course that knowledge did nothing to quell Kyōjurō's worry. Not many tales tell of the multitude of hunters that fell before they could reach such a level. You'd achieved so much already, Kyōjurō could only pray that this wouldn't be your final battle.

Senjurō watched his brother wear his boots into the stone, at this rate scorch marks would start to embed themselves into the rock below his feet. Instead of watching his dear brother wear his armour down with worry alone, Senjurō decided to turn his attention to the great red bridge that stood before Kamura's gates. At least the skies were clear now, that was surely a good sign. Although Senjurō had to admit he too was becoming concerned, it had been close to 3 hours now, if not longer.

It seemed however his fears would not last, as he saw you appear before him on the bridge, your stride full of both pride and fatigue. "Brother!" Senjurō called out to notify his brother but Kyōjurō had already stopped in his tracks upon seeing you cross the bridge, your loyal hunting buddies at your sides. His eyes almost couldn't believe what they were seeing, you were here, you had returned to him alive and well. Kyōjurō clumsily ran towards you if only to feel you in his arms again, to be sure that you were really here.

You giggled as Kyōjurō's arms wrapped around your form and spun you around. "Hehe well hello to you too My Flame." You'd quietly said to him as you embraced your fellow hunter. The Rampage was over for good, Kamura has been freed of calamity and your flaming lover was in your arms again.

Now that certainly calls for a feast.

#rengoku x reader #demon slayer rengoku #rengoku kyōjurō #kyojuro x reader #demon slayer #kimetsu rengoku #dragon #rengoku kyojuro #monsterhunterrise #monster hunter #monster hunter au #Kamura #hunter reader #yes lads

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xxjooeeyxx · 2 years ago

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𝟙ડ𝕥 𝕛ꪖꪀ, ⅈ "𝕥ꫝ𝕣ꫀ᭙" ꪑꪗ 𝕣ꫀડⅈᧁꪀꪖ𝕥ⅈꪮꪀ ꪶꫀ𝕥𝕥ꫀ𝕣🫣

Flashback to a few mths ago, on 6th Sept, I was annoyed by some work/people-related issues at work. I started thinking again, "What if I quit, What can I do?" And so I went checking out the JobSteet app.

The next day morning while I was working, I received more than 10 calls/messages from various agencies. There were only 3 agencies but I received at least 3-4 messages from each. Being FIFO trained, I replied to those who texted later that XX from their company already contacted me 🙈. I was scared, skeptical and worried if it's a scam.

Among them, 2 agents are most enthusiastic and followed up on me. Agent E introduced me to my new company while the other made me realize I should go back to cardio. And so my resumes was sent to a few companies and 2 responded.

HR J contacted me directly via WA and arranged for a Zoom interview for me with the founders, Doctors R & R on 13 Sept. I thought I had blown it as I think I didn't do well (my 1st proper interview 😅). She contacted me again and encouraged me to drop by for a half-day observation during my off days before making my decision.

After I went down to GEH, I was supposed to go to Mt E Orchard the following week but I didn't make it bcos I was too tired. On 30 Sept, J told me that another doctor M would meet me via Zoom but I was on my way to work. J told me that the doctor M would like me to call him. I tried calling him at about 3 pm and managed to talk to him at about 6 pm. After talking to the doctor M, J message me that they would like to offer me the job with my expected salary and if I am willing to take up the offer. I replied that I am waiting for AWS and will only be able to tender in Jan and join by Feb. After that, I didn't hear from J and I updated Agent E.

Did I juz blow my chance?!?! 😪

The days have gone by and on 3 Oct, my 1st day of AL, Agent E and HR J both texted me. I was at the airport having my breakfast before flying off. J told me that the doctors are willing to wait and if I will take up the offer. I Cried and replied YES 😭😭 (I don't recall I cry when I was being proposed but I cried for this 🫨). I called Kelli and shared with her this news, still crying.

Next few days of AL, I signed my contract. On 10 Oct, I went to Mt E Orchard for observation, submitted some official documents, and met up with doctor M.

Resignation letter - I took a few examples and drafted mine. I had it printed and signed on 31 Dec.

1st Jan, I submitted my resignation letter. News spread like 🔥, shocked many who heard of it. 3 and 4 Jan, I met up with SNM and ADN. 12 Jan, CN secretary called me to meet CN after work.

18 Jan, my last day in NHCS. Thank you to everyone whom I knew and worked with for the past 18 years. I love my gifts and cards, and I felt like my birthday came earlier.

♥︎ NHCS, Joey signing out ♥︎

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bennieperez · 1 year ago

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(( hello all , i am brie and i am soooooo beyond excited for this !! i loved putting bennie together and i absolutely cannoooooot wait to start interacting with yall !! this here is the bare bones of bennie , and i will be eventually making her a carrd with all her juicy info hehe . for now here are some basic facts along with some info from my app, so you can hopefully get a lil gist of this gal !! also pleeeeeease feel free to message , im , or hit me up on discord (brie#5129) to do some plotting !!!! i dont have any maaaajor wc yet (im sure i will) , but if you have any gaps you’d think bennie might be a good fit in , please send them right on my way !!! okay ahhh hehe without further adooooooo...))

Full Name: Beatrice Rosalia Perez

Nickname(s): exclusively goes by bennie

Age: 26

Date of Birth: dec. 15th

Gender: cisfem

Pronouns:she/her

Orientation: bisexual

Occupation: works at family business “best stitch”

Positive Traits: gregarious, forthcoming, dependable

Negative Traits: indecisive , scatterbrained , obtuse

Goals/Desires: secretly wishes to own her own restaurant/bakery

Fears: afraid of failing (duh) , heights (even tho she loves rollercoasters) , and insects (all of them)

Hobbies: baking , video games, photography, and it’s not a hobby but bennie loveeees babies

Season: spring

Color: lavender

Music: throwbacks

Movies: animated

Sport: basketball

Beverage: shirley temple

Food: french fries

Animal: kangaroo

Father: her closest confidant

Mother: strained but loving

Sibling(s): (will add if siblings show up)

Children: none

Pet(s): two dachshunds

Beatrice Perez was born just as Breanna’s career was exploding in New York City. The nickname “Bennie” came from her older sibling being unable to pronounce her name when she was born, and it just stuck around until it became the norm. Beatrice rarely ever hears her full name these days.

The family moved back to Fairford when Bennie was 10 , as her mother had built her career big enough to at least start to settle down , though she was often in and out of the house for business throughout Bennie’s childhood which led to her having an extremely close relationship to her father who fostered her love for cooking at a young age. She baked her first cake at 11 and has been the go to baker for the events in their family ever since.

Bennie often felt like she was competing for her mother’s eyes, whether it be from her other siblings , or fashion; it felt like short glimpses whenever she had her mother’s full attention.

She went away to college for culinary arts when she was 20 , much to the chagrin of her mother who all but bribed her to stay home and work for her. Bennie needed the separation though, and was unconvinced. At school she thought she met “the one,” he was studying business and on their first date they made jokes about opening a bakery together one day. They went through all the motions, were engaged on their second anniversary, and everything seemed perfect. Bennie was preparing to graduate college when she had found out her fiancé had been cheating on her for “over a year” and wanted to come clean now that they were about to “enter adulthood.” Bennie left their apartment, her friends worked together to completely empty their place of her things, and she never spoke to him again. She graduated, came home, and has told few about the details. Most people (even those in her own family) know the story as they amicably broke up and she came home to resume partaking in the family business.

She now works at Best Stich a little begrudgingly, though she does take pride in her family history and isn’t completely closed off on the idea of keeping the legacy alive. Her biggest fear is never leaving her mother’s shadow, and always being “Beatrice (né Bennie) Perez... Breanna’s daughter.”

Bennie is pretty close with her siblings , though some more than others.

Still loves to cook, though doing it comes with the painful reminder of the life she left behind that she’s desperately trying to let go of. Excels at baking and enjoys doing it in her free time. Her love language is still baking cakes.

#fairfordintro #ahhhhh omgggggg #im so excitedddddddd #hi hehe

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whoiskt · 2 years ago

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2022 draws to a close... it is time now... the questions...

1: What did you do in 2022 that you’d never done before?

WENT TO THE OCEAN!!! BABEY WE FINALLY MADE IT!

Also wrote a TV pilot script which has altered the course of my future in ways that are yet to be determined....

I did some other things, of course, but nothing as big as those. Like, I went to the renaissance faire, and tried hot pot, poisoned myself with mold. Just a tastes of some firsts.

2: Did you keep your new year’s resolutions, and will you make more for next year?

I made... so many. It was too much.

Read 10 books--- Yeah, I technically have started and failed to complete many books. This does include Dracula -_- I’m so bad at finishing things. I’m trying to finish one before New Years.

Go to an event I wouldn’t normally attend--- I mean, I did go to the ren faire... so I want to count this.

Run a mile in less than 12 minutes outdoors--- I didn’t try lmao once it was warm enough to run outdoors I had completely forgotten.

Apply for at least 4 jobs a week----

I was trying to film a second a day too and that ended in... February.

Yeah, anyways, I don’t know. I got to be more reasonable.

3: Did anyone close to you give birth?

Nay! Least you count all the girlies at work.

4: Did anyone close to you die?

Nay!

5: What countries did you visit?

I’m still working on that ok?

6: What would you like to have in 2023 that you lacked in 2022?

Watch as KT chooses “career” for the fourth year in a row... Honestly, no. I’m going to say a feeling of community. That’s what I really want.

7: What dates from 2022 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?

I will probably forget everything. I still remember the queen died on the 8th of September. I don’t know why I remember that but I doubt it will last.

8: What was your biggest achievement of the year?

Writing the script. I mean, it has changed a bit, and will continue to, but it was a big step in this journey I’m on. And as you know, I rarely finish things I start, so this was a big deal. Even if it never sees the light of day.

I read it to my family at Christmas and my oldest bro-in-law told me to keep making it because he likes it.... HUGE compliment coming from him.

I have also written the outlines for several other episodes for this not-real TV show of mine. I think I’m up to 5 outlines, in addition to the script. So, yeah. Even if it never gets to TV I might make it into a webcomic. Like, I'll make a pact that if I haven't gotten it made by the time I'm 30, I'll start making it into a webcomic instead.

Plus, I’ve been working a lot on my portfolio. I need to finish that up in January and then I’ll be applying for grad school! Scary but exciting.

9: What was your biggest failure?

My biggest failure of the year was probably whenever I applied and interviewed for that broadcasting job. I was really bummed that I didn’t get the job because of the following reasons:

1) It was “the perfect” job for me, I was perfectly qualified and it was in the perfect place, as close as I could get to my “dream job” without leaving the state.

2) There was three (3!) openings. The odds should have been in my favor

3) I knew someone who was already working there. Just embarrassing to me like, ok, so he knows I didn’t get the position. We went to school together our resumes were VERY similar ya know? How did I not get it?

But my biggest failure did lead me to self-reflect. The job search the last few years has been so hard. Getting this rejection was a very big “I can’t do this anymore” moment, so I was thinking, what has brought me satisfaction in all this? The answer was the TV show I write in my notes app.

And because I believe in that enough, I guess I’m going to go do that now instead. Either way, it’s been really fucking nice since then to have just completely given up on the job search. Just so nice.

10: Did you suffer illness or injury?

Yes, first I was sick... idk some time in Spring. Then I drank mold and became poisoned that way, so that was fun. And this last week I’ve had a stomach bug so wooo! I look forward to being well again.

11: What was the best thing you bought?

I bought the new tablet. It is really nice. But it would really only be useable thanks to Will, letting me borrow his computer all the time these days.

12: Whose behavior merited celebration?

I respect all my friends for their behavior and growth or dealing with challenges. It was tough ages 18-24 dealing with losing friends, but now the people I choose to surround myself never worry me, or shock me, or even come close to disgusting me. That’s not something I could have said when I was younger (sadly). But now all my friends are super solid and I am proud to know them.

13: Whose behavior made you appalled?

I don’t know... sometimes my coworkers do stuff but I wouldn’t call it outright appalling? At worst it’s petty drama or bootlicking. But I’m very good at leaving things at work so I don’t care.

14: Where did most of your money go?

They keep increasing the gd rent grrrrr

15: What did you get really, really, really excited about?

The ocean and the beach and the accompanying aura was really cool. I was so excited in general for summer and warm weather, which I think I’m just thinking about because I want it really bad right now.

Chainsaw Man anime! It’s been great showing it to Will, now he knows who tf I’m talking about.

16: What song will always remind you of 2022?

I really don’t listen to pop songs anymore but on our drive to the east coast we discovered Brick + Motar which has become a staple in our home, so pretty much all their songs.

17: Compared to this time last year, are you: (a) happier or sadder? (b) thinner or fatter? Richer or poorer?

I’m probably in all ways about the same. This is what I talk about when I say all the last few years have been a blur because things really don’t get better or worse they just stay the same.

18: What do you wish you’d done more of?

Focusing on finishing things I started. Running theme here, I know, lmao

19: What do you wish you’d done less of?

Play stupid little games on my phone. I seriously get addicted to these things.

20: How did you spend Christmas?

Went home. It was really brief this year. I'll make sure my visit next year is an extended stay.

21: Did you fall in love in 2022?

Never stopped.

22: What was your favorite TV program?

Some things I enjoyed this year: Severance, What We Do in the Shadows, Arcane, Chainsaw Man, Spy x Family, Jojo Part 6, Bee and Puppycat: Lazy in Space, Fringe, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood, Gravity Falls, and many docs.

23: Do you hate anyone now that you didn’t hate this time last year?

Nah.

24: What was the best book you read?

I have been and should be finished reading “The Song of Achilles” soon. I enjoy it because before I played Hades, and as a former greek mythology kid, I hadn’t heard of Patroclus, and I enjoy learning more about him..

25: What was your greatest musical discovery?

I did a lot of musical discovery this year. Like, more than usual, probably not a lot compared to most people. First off, I discovered Of Montreal (not from Montreal sus) TV on the Radio, and of course my Spotify top song of the year: “Heart It Races” by Architecture in Helsinki (I have yet to listen to a single other song of theirs because I just know nothing can top this).

Will discovered Brick + Mortar, and Fish in a Birdcage, which I have coveted.

I have also enjoyed That Handsome Devil and Spoon. Although there is more diving to do with them.

26: What did you want and get?

New drawing tablet.

27: What did you want and not get?

New laptop. My tastes are just too expensive and so I ended up using the money for other things.

28: What was your favorite film of this year?

EVERYTHING EVERYWHERE ALL AT ONCE!

29: What one thing that made your year immeasurably more satisfying?

Writing things for myself and then reading them off to Will. Oh, yeah, my TV show has a fan! Just greenlight me baby!

30: How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2022?

Visions from higher powers. But mostly I don’t wear pants at home. I’m not wearing pants as I write this.

31: What kept you sane?

Socializing. Going outside. Going for walks. Music. My notes app.

32: Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?

I don’t care about celebrities but I do care about Aki Hayakawa.

33: What political issue stirred you the most?

I lost rights this year so..... oof.

34: Who did you miss?

My kitty cat.

35: Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2022.

I learned not to compromise on quality of life? Life is filled with dreams. You gotta follow the string of satisfaction.

It’s easy to get caught up in a stream of “well I have to do this, and then that, and then I’ll be happy.” Which is pretty much how I have lived my life up to this point. I went to college because I thought it was a step to happiness. I wasn’t happy while doing it. I should have done something else, I think. It was unhappy times.

Like, I don’t really like my job, it’s not what I want to do for the rest of my life, or even a year more, but it’s something I can do now, while pursuing other things that DO satisfy me... and THAT’S the satisfaction I have in my life. Before, it was just a step while I waited for something better. But I realize that’s not a good way to live life.

36: Quote a song lyric that sums up your year.

#lifeblogging #Tl;dr of this is that I wrote a script and didn't read any books lmaooo #year in review

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fluffy-critter · 6 months ago

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#crosspost #busybee

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hockeywhy · 4 years ago

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4 times you faked a relationship + 1 time you didn’t; m.tkachuk

WARNINGS: language. WORD COUNT: 17.2k. A/N: So, I didn’t want my effort for this fic to go to waste and I’ve decided to re-write it for Matty because he and the fake dating trope work so well together. I had to, so here it is.

one.

“I’d only be asking Matthew if I had no other options and needed a last resort,” you said. “Until then, I’m not even contemplating it.”

“Kind of sounds like you’ve just about reached the bottom of your list, right around where you’re keeping Matthew, Y/N,” your friend, Anna, responded and though her tone said sympathy, the look on her face reflected anything but sheer elation.

The invitation landed on your tabletop with a loud slap while you deposited yourself in a nearby chair unceremoniously, glaring at the decorative paper as if it offended you. Actually, scratch that. It did offend you. Greatly so. Honestly, it may as well have come in the form of one of those boxing gloves that sprung out of a box immediately upon opening and decked you square in the face. That’s how much it offended you.

The golden letters inked on the thick paper warmly requested the pleasure of your company to witness the love of Josh Reynolds to Louise Jones six weeks from now. The location stated was a hotel you knew only through word of mouth: one of those fancy establishments that served ridiculously priced plates that were more canapes than actual meals.

You doubted there would be much pleasure from your company.

You and Josh called it quits just over a year ago after a relationship that became increasing rockier, significantly more emotionally exhausting. The two of you started dating in high school and if the relationship started off with nothing but the sort of blinding fiery passion only teens could be capable of, well someone missed the memo on giving you the message that all fires eventually fizzle out. Gradually, it was the only way you could see your relationship heading and it seemed that Josh felt it too. It made the breakup easier: it was neat and mutual. Still, that couldn’t be considered an incentive for either of you to invite each other to such grand, deeply personal events. You couldn’t help but feel a little hurt that he found someone he wanted to tie the knot with so quickly but in retrospect, Josh had always wanted that while you were content as you were. That seemed to be the fork in your road with him.

On the one hand, you were angry at Josh for even considering jotting your name down on the list of attendees and on the other, you were angry at yourself for being angry about that. One moment you were dead set on declining the invite and the next, you considering that doing that would simply show you were bitter and unable to be civil about it. Besides, surely it was noted somewhere in the Rulebook of Ex’s that you just couldn’t do stuff like that. That seemed to just about do it. Like hell you’d given anyone the satisfaction of one-upping you.

You needed a plus one. Desperately.

“Ask your brother then. Pretty sure that’s bound to impress anyone there. It’s not often many will get to say they brushed shoulders with an up-and-coming professional athlete.”

“I don’t need that sort of plus one. If I did, I would’ve asked you—”

“Thanks,” Anna mumbled.”

“—but what I need,” you ploughed on ahead, “is, well, something that can come off a bit more serious looking.”

She rolled her eyes. “Saying the word boyfriend won’t jinx you into permanent silence, you know. You need a boyfriend.”

“A boyfriend for a day,” you agreed contemplatively.

She picked up the invitation to look through it carefully and after concluding her inspection, she slapped the papers back down on the table, grinning. “Matthew it will be then!”

Your younger brother, Jake, recently signed his entry-level contract with the Calgary Flames, in a way carrying forward the family tradition of starting a career in professional sports with them. Your grandfather did, your father did and now, here you were watching your little brother take on the mantle. Your family’s involvement in sport and, specifically, the team meant that you were somewhat familiar with the organization whether that meant attending home games or a few events arranged by the team. You couldn’t say you were the best of friends with them, certainly nowhere near the level your brother was, but generally speaking you were fond of the C of Red.

That couldn’t also be said about Matthew, however.

It seemed that from the get-go, there was a personality clash between you. At first, you thought it was just Matthew picking on you, joking around as he disagreed with virtually anything you’d say but progressively, you were pretty sure the two of you didn’t even have the compatibility to keep things civil. Matthew had a way with pushing your buttons and it bothered you he could do that with so much ease, though the more you thought of it, the more it shouldn’t have come as a surprise to you: you were all too familiar with his on-ice shenanigans, after all. Whenever you knew you had to be under the same roof as him, you’d tell yourself to not let him get under your skin but that resolve would last for all of ten minutes. Fifteen if you had a particularly good day.

Much to your chagrin, it seemed your brother was closest to Matthew. Though you offered the spare room in your apartment, your brother was so warmly welcomed by Matthew. It was no doubt even Jake found your annoyance with his teammate entertaining.

The thought alone was frustrating enough. If one day, by chance, you caught sight of a white strand of hair on your head, you were dead set on blaming Matthew for it. Matthew and his smarmy attitude; Matthew and his smartass retorts; Matthew and the smirks he threw your way whenever your brother took his side, outnumbering you.

You clenched your teeth, glaring at the invite. From the corner of your eye, you saw Anna’s outstretched hand holding your phone out to you. A groan formed in your throat and you wished you kept in contact with the handful of guys you tried dating after Josh. None really stayed. Or better said, none managed to draw you in. It was as if Josh had put a jinx on you. If that was the case, you hoped that this whammy would disappear if it meant watching him watch someone else walk down the aisle towards him.

Anna waved the device at you insistently. “Do it. Come on. Even you know nothing says fuck you like turning up there with Matthew. Scrappy when he wants to be and he’s not bad to look at either. You know it.”

You arched an eyebrow up at her. “More than Johnny?”

She flushed visibly. Johnny and Anna were still a relatively new thing, dancing around their relationship carefully as if they were both doing this rodeo for the first time. It was pretty cute. “Don’t change the subject.” She placed the device down on the table in front of you then patted your shoulder. “I have a feeling you won’t regret it. If he gets on your nerves too much, well…it can’t be worse than watching your ex get married, right?”

“Ouch,” you winced, but chuckled, knowing you were defeated. Matthew was the last resort, and you knew you were at the bottom of your list before you even started going through it. “You do realize if he declines, I’ll probably make a start on packing my bags and moving to Montana, right? The only time you’ll hear from me is when my handwritten letter goes through the nine circles of hell that is our postal service.”

Anna fixed you with a stare that could only read as ‘do it’. “I wouldn’t be so insistent on this if I knew Matthew would say no. I have a feeling he’ll surprise you.”

With a heavy sigh, you unlocked your phone and scrolled through your list of contacts, thumb hovering over his name when it came up. Anna wasn’t wrong: Matthew wasn’t bad to look at all, that much you could admit. But god, if he turned you down…. you knew you wouldn’t be able to ever show your face in front of him or the rest of the team ever again.

“I think I’ve had enough surprises from him to last a lifetime,” you mumbled but tapped the call symbol anyway.

He answered on the third ring. “Hel—

You didn’t let him finish. “I need your help,” you ground out, eyes closing while you rubbed at your forehead with the tips of your fingers.

There was silence on the other end of the line that had you biting your lip in anxiousness. You shouldn’t have done this. You really shouldn’t have done this. All it would take would be just hitting the ‘resume my account’ link on one of the dating apps you signed up for a while ago. Someone was bound to be attracted not only to you but the promise of an open bar—

“Music to my ears,” Matthew’s response came through. You could practically hear the smile in his voice and knew you’d regret it; you could easily tell from the tone of his voice.

You sighed quietly, leaning forward to rest your elbows on the table, eyes glued to the invitation. Fuck it, you could get someone else; easily, no doubt. The world of online dating was vast and there would always be takers.

“Uh, yeah actually, never mind—”

“No, no. Come on, Y/N. Pretty sure this is the first time you’re calling me first so can we take a moment to just let that sink in?” Silence again, then a chuckle. “Okay, now that we did. How can I help you?”

It wasn’t as if Josh had put you in the position to ask Matthew for a favor but still: fuck Josh, anyway. In a split second of sheer pettiness, you considered aiming to host the most extravagant, unforgettable weddings when your turn would come just to show him who does it better.

“Are you free the third weekend in June?” you asked tiredly.

“Don’t know. Depends what for and who you’re asking for.”

You should’ve asked him face-to-face. At least then, he would’ve had the chance to see you roll your eyes, turn on your heel and walk away. “I’m obviously asking for myself. Could you just be straightforward for once and answer yes or no? You’re making me hold the line for longer than I anticipated and I’m happy to ask someone else,” you lied.

“Let me get this right—” Here comes, you thought exhausted. “You’re calling me for the first time since you have my number to ask me if I’m free the third weekend in June? As a favor for yourself.”

“Matthew, I didn’t stutter—”

“What’s happening in June?”

You don’t know what it was about his words that downed you. It was nothing but a simple question yet the only thing you could think of was: the first boy I’ve dated and so far, the only one, seems to have moved on quicker than I anticipated and while I’m still trying to build myself back up, I’m sitting in my kitchen looking at a wedding invitation and wallowing in self-pity because regardless of how hard I try, of how much I’ve amended my standards, no one seems to do it so what if this is it for me? What if this is just the way it’ll be from now on? And now, I’m resorting to lying just to make myself feel better but also put a façade in front of someone who I know no longer cares about me like that. And really, nor do I about him but here we are. So, nothing much is happening in June, Matthew. Hopefully we get a lot more sunshine though!

What you responded with instead was, “just an old friend of mine getting married and I need a plus one. Nothing serious. Just go there for an hour or two, say some hellos and leave. It’s a quick in-and-out thing.”

More silence on the other end of the line other than the muffled shuffle of what sounded like bedsheets. “Why not ask your brother then?”

“Asked him already, said he’s got something lined up already. So, are you free or not?” you lied, quickly pressing on even if you knew that sounded a lot like desperation.

“For you, at a price.” He was smirking. You knew he was and more than ever, you wished 2021 was the year you could just reach through the phone and shake the person on the other end.

“Uh-huh. Right. No, just forget it. Forget I even—”

You were going to end the call when Matthew laughed, quickly calling out a “no, no! Nothing weird, I promise. Just owe me a favor in return, is all.”

“Do I get a choice?” you mumbled, more to yourself than towards him.

“I think we both know that you don’t. Text me the time and place,” he instructed and then, just as you were really about to end the call, he added, “hey, send me a photo of what you’re wearing also. I’ll match my tie to your dress, free of charge.”

“Can you maybe ditch the jacket while you’re at it? Just want to make sure your tie’s within reach so I can strangle you with it.”

Even after you cut the call, Matthew’s laughter rang in your ears.

Matthew matched his tie to your red dress. The color of the silk around his neck was so striking, you would swear it was made from the same material as your outfit. You sent him a photo of the material of the dress, more as a joke than having any expectations attached to it so you were pleasantly surprised to see he made the effort. For a moment, you allowed yourself to bask in sheer joy knowing that to any eye, the two of you could easily pass as a couple. At least, from looks alone if not from attitude. You were a proud person; fiercely so. Knowing you were now in debt to Matthew however he saw fit dealt a pretty impressive blow to your ego. You don’t let yourself linger too much on that thought, though. It was already difficult enough to loosen up and relax your stance as you climbed into Matthew’s car as soon as he texted you of his arrival.

“You look good,” he commented after you fixed the seatbelt on. He turned in his seat as much as space would allow so he could look at you properly and in return, you arched an eyebrow, refusing to give way to his stare. “Are you trying to one-up the bride?”

“Ha, ha. Funny. You didn’t even see the bride. I didn’t even see the bride.”

“Didn’t see her but I’m seeing you, so,” he shrugged, by way of explanation before correcting his position.

If asked, you wouldn’t deny that Matthew also looked good. Very good. But only if asked. It was impossible that someone with a face like that didn’t know they turned heads easily wherever they went. Matthew’s suit fit him as if it was sown on him. If the two of you had a better relationship, you would even dare ask him what it was he was putting in that hair of his that made it so shiny and gave those curls so much definition, taming them almost perfectly when he really put his mind to it. Whatever it was, you had a feeling he didn’t strain as much as you had earlier that morning to tame your hair and though you could give yourself credit for how well it turned out, your arms weren’t thanking you for it.

Thankfully, much of the drive was pleasant. Though you hated small talk, you decided to make an effort if only to ease your nerves as the navigation system indicated you were drawing closer and closer to that glitzy hotel. You learned that although the season was over, Matthew, Brady and the rest of the family would spend a few weeks in Canada before heading back home to St. Louis. In turn, you told him that some of the days off you booked from work would be spent somewhere just as sunny and warm but with more beaches. It was safe ground. That, you could do although progressively, you were becoming more and more distracted, and less focused on the conversation the two of you managed to keep.

“Want me to pull over?” Matthew asked suddenly.

“What,” you mumbled, turning your attention from the road ahead to Matthew who seemed amused by the situation. “Why would I want you to do that?”

“I’d want you to do that. You look pretty pale and honestly, I’ve just had the interior cleaned so—”

“Fuck you, Tkachuk, keep driving. I’m just a little…cold. How high do you have the AC on?”

He fixed you with a stare while waiting for the lights ahead to turn green, eyebrow arched. “It’s June, Y/N, and uncomfortably warm. If it makes you feel better, though, I could turn it off and we can roll down the windows instead?”

“No, sorry—you’re right. It’s fine. Just leave the AC as it is.”

The laugh he gave was nothing short of incredulous. “Repeat that back for me. Actually—hold on, do that when I can press record on my phone so I can have that on repeat. Did you admit I’m right?”

“God, you’re making me regret inviting you,” you muttered though without heat.

An uncomfortable silence slipped between the two of you or maybe, it was just your perspective on it. Matthew seemed perfectly at ease minding the road, only occasionally throwing a cursory glance towards the car’s navigation system whenever it announced a turn. Doing this seemed more and more like a bad idea. A terrible one. No one would’ve held it against you if you denied the invitation. In fact, you thought that was more expected than accepting it and turning up to the party as if you were seeing an old friend, not an ex-boyfriend. It wasn’t too late though. Matthew could still turn the car around.

“Listen, Matt—”

“You have now reached your destination. Your destination is on the right.”

You released a breath you weren’t even aware of holding, then threw a quick look towards the main entrance of the hotel. Already, a few guests whom you recognized were crossing into the lobby.

“You really don’t look okay at all,” Matthew repeated and there was less humor in his voice and more concern this time around. Even you weren’t ignorant to how much your mood kept fluctuating over the course of the drive: often, engaged in conversation but occasionally, withdrawn, barely just catching on to whatever it was Matthew was saying. Sure, he probably didn’t know you well enough to read you, but it didn’t take a genius to figure out something was amiss. “Correct me if I’m wrong, but I felt like there’s more to this thing than you’re telling me. You could’ve asked your brother, yet you didn’t—”

Damn it. You made him swear to play along. You made a quick mental note to get back at him about it whenever you felt energized enough to do so.

“Matthew,” you said, your voice suddenly clear, tone neutral. You didn’t dare look him in the eyes so instead, you kept your stare fixed on the revolving doors ahead. “I’m only going to say this once and I hope that you won’t make me repeat it now or ever again. I’d prefer that you don’t mention it to anyone either. The person getting married today is my ex-boyfriend. Up until last year, we’ve been together since we were teenagers. I loved him. Since we broke up, I kept trying to look for parts of him in others, but I couldn’t find even a trace of who he was. I feel as I’ve been jinxed, and I felt that maybe if I come today, maybe if I see him with someone else, I can confidently say I’m fine with that. It hurt my pride when I received the invitation, so my first thought was to lie. If, for just a few hours, I can pretend I’ve also moved on and I’m not stuck in this…fucking weird limbo, then maybe it becomes true. A fucked up self-prophecy. So.” You pause, clearing your throat. Your mouth suddenly felt dry from your speech, yet you couldn’t feel a pang of regret in your chest or heat behind your eyes. “So. If you want out, that’s fine. After all, I’m asking you to pretend to be my date out of spite, I guess. And embarrassment. It’s childish and unfair and ridiculous but—”

You came to a halt when you felt a finger under your chin, and a gentle upward push forced you to raise your head up a little more. When you turned towards Matthew, you looked at him with a look of confusion on your face.

“Keep your head up. We have a wedding to go to.”

His encouragement sunk in faster than expected and as your expression relaxed, a smile formed on your face.

Yeah. The two of you had a wedding to go to.

The event hall was decorated minimally yet tastefully. It made everything seem even more personal and you received that impression from every detail: from the flower arrangements to the music, everything was a testament to a life united by love. Maybe your emotional outburst earlier accounted for it, but you felt lighter even as you watched the newlyweds glide along the floor for their first dance. Sure, you felt a desperate pang of want but it was distant. Muffled.

Despite your initial thoughts, having Matthew at your side felt very much like a safety cushion. It surprised you to watch him settle into his role with so much ease that eventually, even you didn’t have to remind yourself to not withdraw whenever his arm wrapped around your waist: sometimes loosely, sometimes a little tighter, reeling you in closer.

Fish, here is your bait, you thought wildly as you stood tucked at his side while he accepted flatteries from one of the guests who swore had been a fan of the Calgary Flames since before he could even talk.

“You must be so proud,” the man turned towards you. “Your family’s truly one of a kind to have all played for the team and now—” He gestures towards Matthew as if to say all of this. “Must be something about those Flames!”

You laughed tightly, just as Matthew squeezed your side. By that move alone, you could tell he was eating this up.

“Yeah, just can’t get enough of them,” you concluded, pitching your voice just a little higher towards the end. To the man, it was as genuine as could be, but Matthew cautioned you silently with the slightest narrowing of his eyes, effectively warning you to be more realistic. “Hey, I’ll get us some refills? Try to be a little more inconspicuous in the meantime. Remember this isn’t your day,” you joked.

“Only practicing for when our turn comes,” Matthew responded without missing a beat and released the hold he had on you.

Once at the bar, you allowed yourself some extra moments to catch your breath. Even off ice, Matthew was a force to be reckoned with. He struck conversation with others easily, drew their attention with seemingly little effort and easily set the mood for whatever situation or person the two of you would run into. A part of you thought his profession had a lot to do with his mannerism, but a bigger part knew different: mostly, it was really just Matthew.

He had a way with words and with people that you haven’t been witness to before and couldn’t help but wonder if it was all show. He was, after all, a face for the public: familiar with interviews, familiar with the attention, apparently not overwhelmed even by less conventional questions. Watching him play this role was fascinating to say the least. It certainly took your mind off the circumstances so credit where credit was due.

“Hey, it’s good to see you here.”

You turned from the bar and came face to face with Josh. His jacket was off, and his sleeves were neatly rolled up past his elbows; behind the knot of his tie, you could see he’d undone the top button of the collar. You’d seen him make countless rounds across the entire floor, greeting guests and ensuring everything was running smoothly. Occasionally, you watched him dance either with his wife, or family members, or even guests you recognized as work colleagues.

You smiled. “Thanks for the invite. It was a bit weird to receive it, I can’t lie about that, but I’m glad you sent it.” It surprised you to learn you weren’t even lying about that. Through the course of the evening, it dawned on you that maybe, it was more the thought of being here that made you anxious; the event itself, however, proved just how right you were. It felt…fine. You felt fine.

“Yeah—uh, I wasn’t… I wasn’t really sure but, well, before…” He trailed off into a sigh.

You chuckled softly. “Would you like to buy a vowel?”

That made him laugh. Truly, genuinely laugh. “Sorry. I guess it’s a bit weird for me also. But, well, before you and I were, well, you-and-I, we were friends. I would’ve hoped we’d still be friends even after…” He waved a hand in the air by way of explanation but that was sufficient for you.

“Won’t hurt to be friends. Whatever happened between us—well. Thing of the past. Build bridges and get over them, right?”

“Right. Function of a bridge and all.”

“Hey. Congratulations, by the way! I’m happy for you. Really. I wish the two of you all the best. She seems really great.”

“She is,” he agreed and cast a glance towards the room, eyes undoubtedly searching for her. “Are you—”

“Here you are.”

Saved by the bell. A weight fell around your waist that, by now, was warm and familiar. Unconsciously, you leaned into Matthew, flashing a wide smile at Josh. At first, he seemed surprised by the sudden appearance but then his features settled into something more comfortable; something so much like relief that for a moment, you wished you could just come clean about it. You and Matthew were less than meets the eye.

Before you could even introduce them, a kiss was pressed to your cheek, knocking all air from your lungs and almost making you choke because of it.

What the hell.

“You were gone for some time, so I thought to check on you,” Matthew informed you, all matter of fact. To Josh, he said, “congratulations on the wedding. Must be pretty great to finally get to this point. You two look great together.”

“Oh? Yeah. Yeah, thanks man. So glad you could come along today.” Josh turned to you, an eyebrow perked in interest. “I didn’t know you two were together.”

“Oh we’re just—”

You began but were promptly interrupted by Matthew. “We like to keep it lowkey. It hasn’t been that long for us but that’s not much of a problem when your gut tells you this is it. You know it well, right?”

You were entirely caught off guard. Instead of responding immediately, you bought yourself some time by taking a sip from your glass of—whatever it was. Strong though. Just perfect for the situation you suddenly found yourself in: ex-boyfriend ahead, fake boyfriend to the side, promising sweet nothings that you knew would come back to haunt you at some ungodly hour. You wished you could step on his shoe; pull on those shiny curls of his real quick, knock some sense back into him. There was a difference between play a role well and clearly, playing it too well.

Matthew pushed ahead. “It’s pretty good timing for us though. We could take some notes for when our turn comes, right babe?”

“I’ll let the two of you to it, then. Thanks again for coming.” Josh made a move to step away but before he did, he turned to you and caught your eyes. “I’m really happy for you, Y/N. You look good together. Just make sure you don’t take too many notes.”

“Wouldn’t dream to,” Matthew responded, and you could read the slight bite in his words. When Josh was out of earshot, he looked down at you. “You dated him? Just him?”

“Hey, what’d I say about not bringing that up again? And save your dick measuring contests for the locker room, Tkachuk. Now’s not the time nor place.”

“Now’s definitely the time and place,” he countered, making you roll your eyes but there was a smile on your face you couldn’t quite wipe off. “Come on. Let’s continue taking leaves out of their book.” In one swift motion, he took the glass from your hand and set it on the bar while above, the LED lights dimmed, and the playlist switched to a slower song.

You threw him a cautious look, easily reading where that was going. “I’m not dancing.”

“Sure, you are. You want to give the impression of being happily in love? You need to start pulling your weight in this thing.”

“Oh, I’m sorry, Atlas. Do your shoulders hurt from carrying the burden of our relationship?” you mocked, yet still allowed him to lead you towards the dance floor. Right in the center of it given the bride and groom appeared to sit this one out; you expected nothing less from him. You weren’t even surprised when he made an entire show out of it, forcing you to do a pirouette when the two of you claimed your spot.

“You can’t even imagine the pain you put me through,” he sighed near your ear as the two of you began swaying to the music.

“Well, you’re still standing so clearly it can’t be that bad.”

“Baby, it’s torture.”

You were grateful the two of you weren’t exactly face to face or you were sure Matthew would never have let you live down the flush you felt rising to your cheeks. Sure, he didn’t use the pet name in a genuine manner, but just hearing it roll off his tongue like that… You stopped that thought before it grew into a whole new different monster.

After a few moments of silence passed, Matthew lowered his head closer to yours, his warm breath colliding with the skin on your throat. “Do you think now’s the right time to kiss? Are enough people watching?”

You stepped on his foot. Not hard, but just with the right amount of pressure to draw a wince from him. Satisfied, you leaned back just a little to look at him properly. “Don’t even think about it, Tkachuk—”

“Thought about it already.”

Through clenched teeth, you hissed, “you. Are. Incorrigible.”

He raised his eyebrows, surprised. “If only you could meet yourself.”

You snickered quietly then leaned back against him. “Thanks for doing this. I know it’s not the most convenient of things… and it wasn’t fair to tell you the full truth of it right on the day of. But—well, thanks.”

“That sounds like it was pretty difficult to let out. It’s very…. heartfelt.”

“Just fucking accept it as I gave it to you, Tkachuk,” you complained, more amused than annoyed.

More silence followed, filled in only by the general buzz of the room and the slow melody. “And now?” Matthew questioned a short while later. You allowed an extended silence to fill in for your confusion. He picked up on it within seconds. “Do you still feel jinxed? Stuck in the same place while he goes on ahead in life?”

You took some time to think through your answer, time during which the song faded into yet another slow one. Matthew didn’t give an indication of wanting to move away from the dancefloor, so you saw no purpose in you doing that.

“Not really,” you concluded. “Just seems like we’re both following different trajectories. Doesn’t mean I’m left behind if I’ve not yet met someone to settle down with like he did. Maybe I just need to be here to come to terms with it. Good for him though. I’m genuinely happy for him and his wife. I think lots of people imagine going through this very same moment.” You ended with a shrug but then, to lighten up the moment, you added, “don’t mock me for it. Between the two of us, I’m the one with the pointy shoes.”

Matthew laughed, a low, pleasant laugh right by your ear. “I’ll give you a free pass for what’s left of today.”

“Your generosity astounds me. Please could you also sign my jersey?”

“Is it my jersey?”

“Why would it be your jersey when I have my last name printed out on one at the expense of my brother being roughed up a little?”

“Don’t tempt me. That favor you now owe me? I might just use it to have you get my jersey so I can sign it since you so generously asked.”

“Your call,” you shrugged. “Just know it’s going straight in the wash right after you scribble on it.”

Matthew took a few small steps back, only to pull you back towards him. You played along and spun as you landed into his hold once again.

“You say that now, but when you’ll see yourself with it—”

“I’ll auction it on eBay.”

The laugh you got out of Matthew stayed with you through the rest of the night and like never before, his good disposition easily transferred to you.

two.

When the elevator doors slid open, your brother and Johnny weren’t the only ones to step into the hotel lobby. Matthew accompanied them, flashing a smug smile as the trio approached and his eyes landed on you. You cast a quizzical glance from your brother, to Johnny, to Matthew and then looked towards Anna as if to ask are you seeing this? She only shrugged at you in silent response, though she was grinning from ear to ear. At least someone was certainly enjoying this.

“Last I remember, there were only two of you,” you commented.

“Was that before or after your third drink?” your brother chirped back.

Instead of humoring him, you shift your gaze to Matthew. “What gives, Tkachuk? Can’t be left at home unsupervised during family vacations?”

“My house training has only gone so far,” he responded smartly, then nodded his head towards Anna and Johnny who were caught in a half-hug, apparently entertaining by watching you and Matthew bicker as if watching a tennis match. “They’re not family.”

Anna feigned a gasp on your behalf. “Y/N and I are part and parcel, Matt. Thought you’d know that by now.”

“Well, the three of us are part and parcel also, Anna. Thought you’d definitely know that by now,” he responded but you were already leading the way out of the hotel lobby and towards the busy square outside.

It was a hub of activity: from street vendors to dance and music performers, there was something to see regardless of which way you looked. Although you arrived at your holiday destination the previous day, the flight south coupled with the warm, sticky evening made you want to steer away from the busier parts of the town. Instead, you opted to lounge by the pool with Anna, having perhaps one too many cocktails to kickstart your vacation. Perhaps you missed Matthew’s arrival at some point then, though for the life of you, you couldn’t remember anyone mentioning he’d come along also. Not that it bothered you greatly.

Since the time you asked him to be your plus one some few weeks ago, the relationship between the two of you warmed slightly. Sure, he still knew which buttons to press to get a reaction out of you, but you saw it as being less ill-intended and more good-natured fun. You kept up with him easily and whenever it felt as if he was cornering you, you conceded with a roll of your eyes but never admitted defeat. You didn’t consider the two of you friends, but something changed on the day of the wedding right around the time you had spilled out your feelings about the entire deal to him. Looking back on it, you found it strange just how easily you did that, no second thoughts, no wishing for takebacks. You knew you owed him the truth given the position you put him in without plenty of heads-up, but you could’ve easily just simplified the entire thing.

It wasn’t difficult to stick together as a group but eventually, you wandered off towards a few stalls on your own that have caught your eye. Though you wanted some more time to have Anna to yourself, it was technically her first vacation with Johnny. You could catch up with her later in the room; surely, she’d have even more swooning to do over him by then. Not that you blamed her. Johnny was an incredible guy.

First, you stopped at a stall selling a range of baked goods that you simply couldn’t turn away from. And for good reason: the sour cherry churro you settled for was a dream come true. From there, you strolled towards a few small stores selling a range of products ranging from colorful graphic tees to earrings made from vibrant, colorful gemstones. You held a blue pair next to your ear, turning one way then another to watch as the light reflected off the gleaming gem.

“Those suit your complexion,” the attendant commented and when you looked towards him, he smiled bashfully.

A gentle heat crept up your neck, unable to keep the grin off your face but you couldn’t look away from him: his skin was lightly tanned, and a dusting of freckles covered the bridge of his nose and upper cheeks. His blond hair was messy in a way you could easily tell was styled to appear as such. He was cute in a sort of conventional way, but you liked the way he smiled at you, all shy but certainly genuine.

“Funny you say that. I always had a feeling blue was my color,” you responded, and his smile widened.

“Here for vacation?” he asked.

You nodded. “Yeah, I just got here yesterday, and I’ll be around for a few days,” you added, a little hopeful.

Hey, if you could score some good company while in the area, then you weren’t going to turn down the opportunity to flirt a little and make good with someone more local.

“Good. That’s really good to know.” He regarded you for a moment and you were certain that caused your blush to deepen though at the same time, it made you feel a little…exposed. “Hey, are you free—”

“The red ones are nicer.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, frustration quickly replacing the feeling of near euphoria. You could recognize that voice anywhere. Of all times he could have run into you, the universe fixed it so he popped up when you least needed that to happen.

“I prefer the blue,” you countered, then held them up against your ear again though you knew you didn’t need to double check if they suited you.

“No, trust me with the red,” Matthew insisted, and you saw him appear behind you in the small circular mirror you were looking into. He was so close. “Goes well with that little number I got you the other day.”

You sputtered. “W-what?! Stop messing—”

In the mirror Matthew’s eyes flicked from you to the attendant. “Yeah, you know the one. I left the box on the bed in our room, thought to surprise—”

“Tkachuk, just shut up. There isn’t an our room—”

This was so painfully uncomfortable. So frustratingly annoying, you felt the blood warm in your veins, that familiar wave of anger coursing through your body.

“I’ll ring those up for you,” the attendant said, his voice carefully polite while he accepted the red earrings from Matthew’s outstretched hand.

You hated him. Passionately hated him. It was easy for Matthew to play games like those because he could easily get just about anyone, but you? It wasn’t quite as easy to not be a pro-athlete who had pretty much everything lined up and going for them. You tried catching the store attendant’s eyes again but he was busy accepting the cash from Matthew after packing away the earrings in a small paper bag. You knew he wouldn’t catch sight of it, but it didn’t stop you from casting a longing, apologetic glance towards him before leaving the store.

It felt as if for every two steps you took, Matthew only needed one and despite the crowds, he caught up with you easily, holding out the bag towards you while you powered ahead.

“Come on, don’t be mad. The red ones are definitely better than the blue ones,” Matthew tried to reason with you while holding the hand stretched out to you, insistent on his offer. When you didn’t respond and instead, tried to rush further ahead, Matthew pressed on. Him managing to keep up with your pace only added fuel to the fire. “Don’t tell me you’re upset over Ron Jon back there.”

You came to a halt, turning to glare up at him. “I am, Matthew. You didn’t need to do what you did back there. There was no reason for it. It was shitty of you, and I need you to back off while I try to enjoy the rest of my night.” You clenched your jaw, trying to suppress the overwhelming feeling of anger that normally resulted in tears. “You could at least pretend to be sorry about it.”

With that, you turned on your heel and squeezed your way through the crowds, ignoring Matthew’s calls to stop and come back and that he was only joking.

Too late for that, you thought bitterly, making a turn towards a street popular for its dining and bar venues.

The part of the archipelago more popular with tourists was truly a sight to behold as the sun went down, coloring the sky in some of the warmest, most calming shades of orange, red and yellow you ever saw. It seemed as if everyone gathered on the promenade, phones at the ready while taking photos of the sky, selfies and group shots. Even you couldn’t resist it and after taking a few well-centered selfies, a passing couple offered to take your photo which you immediately posed for.

Later, once the sight sunk in, you moved towards a nearby bar, first attracted by the pink, purple and blue neon lights and then, the music. A good cocktail, good music and a gorgeous sunset were all it took for you to feel more relaxed, leaving behind the event from earlier. He wouldn’t be the first cute guy you’d see, nor the last and indeed, it was easy for you to settle in the more crowded area of the locale where people were dancing either solo, with a partner or as part of a group.

Not long after you weaved your way onto the dancefloor, you felt a pair of hands settle on your hips, drawing you in. You went easily, accepting the embrace, accepting the way you were being led into the dance, swaying your hips along with his. You didn’t even miss a beat when he spun you around, but you kept your hands pressed against his shoulders, rather than wrapping your arms around his neck. You were tipsy, no doubt, and admittedly felt touch-starved but you weren’t quite in the mood for anything more. You even dodged his mouth when he tipped his head down to your lips so instead, he landed a kiss on your cheek. Still, he was pretty relentless. The dance took a turn that was significantly more sensual, crossing a line into discomfort, and you felt that was your cue to try and remove yourself from him. It was easy initially. You threw him a small smile and when he caught hold of your hand, you simply motioned you were only going to get a drink, hoping that would keep him where he was with the knowledge you would return.

When you finally pulled away, you made a bee line towards the exit of the venue but again, you were a step too slow. The guy caught you just at the door.

“Where are you running off to, pretty?” he slurred, his voice louder above the thumping of the music.

“Oh—Um, just getting a breath of fresh air, is all,” you said quickly and immediately wished you didn’t venture off in a place like this alone. It was as if you suddenly forgot everything that was common sense, pushed towards it by earlier frustration.

“Doesn’t look like it to me.” He frowned, but there was no clarity in his eyes. He was entirely out of it and his fingers squeezed painfully around your wrist. You flinched visibly, squirming under his touch and even if you tried pulling your arm away, it was useless. He overpowered you even through the drunken haze. “Wanna go? Fine, then let’s go together.”

“No—uh, I’m actually here with my friends. I’ve just—I saw them so I’m going to catch up with them. They must be looking for—”

“Then we can go to them together, sweetheart. Here, point them out to me.”

“No, really. I’m going to them alone,” you emphasized and put all your force into trying to free your hand. It may have taken him by surprise that led to his loosened grip, but as soon as you turned on your heel, you found out there was more to it than just that.

You almost faceplanted right into Matthew’s chest when you tried making a run for it. He stood there, eyes flicking between you and the guy with an unreadable expression on his face. Your heart was hammering wildly in your chest and instinctively, you almost glued yourself to his side. It wasn’t the first time someone tried to force a move on you, but it was the first time it was done so in such a thoughtless, drunken manner. Perhaps your fear was also enhanced by being alone in an unfamiliar place. To see Matthew this time felt like a blessing.

“Babe,” Matthew said by way of greeting, pulling you to him when he wrapped an arm around your shoulders.

You didn’t realize you were trembling until you stood so close to him, legs suddenly feeling like jelly in front of your salvation. Matthew could easily overpower the guy; even if they were roughly the same height, there was a big difference between the body of an athlete and the swaying one of a drunk guy. Still, it didn’t mean you wanted Matthew to get caught up in anything he’d later regret or would affect him in any way, so you pressed a hand to his chest trying to put some pressure into guiding him away from the scene.

“She yours?” the drunk guy slurred, head tilting back, chin pointing towards your general direction.

“Yeah. So, guess that makes the situation even worse for you,” Matthew responded. His tone was light, seemingly non-threatening to someone who didn’t know him but you did. You knew him and you could read him crystal clear in this moment.

“Matthew, please,” you muttered, looking at him almost desperately while trying to put all your body weight into guiding him away.

The guy scoffed. “You’ve gotta do better than that, buddy.” He snickered. “You’ve gotta keep ‘em on a tighter leash unless you want them to go—”

Matthew made a move towards him, but you quickly stepped in front of him, essentially forcing him to halt. “Matt, please. Let’s go, okay? Please. I really want to leave. Right now.”

He glared at the guy for a moment longer but the hard look in his eyes softened as soon as his gaze fell on you. You took the liberty of placing most of your weight against Matthew, allowing him to remove both of you from the situation and towards a less crowded area. That was easy to find: with the sun having long set, most of the crowds cleared away from the promenade so there was plenty of space for you to collect yourself in peace.

He didn’t pry into the situation, didn’t even make any smartass comments. Instead, he let you slip away from under the safety of his arm while you pace around a small area, trying to work off the anxiety as much as you could. You had to count your breaths, remind yourself to breathe in then out slowly. You were okay. You were far from that guy, and he couldn’t hurt you. At least, no more than he already did. Your wrist felt a bit sore, but you’d take that over anything worse.

“You okay?” Matthew asked at last, tone careful. “I can go back there and pull him out, you know, get him to apologize.”

“No!” you said loudly, desperately, then cleared your throat and lowered your voice. “No, don’t go. Please. I just need a moment, that’s all. Just a little. Could you not leave? I’ll be fine in a moment. Just—just need to catch my breath—"

“Hey, hey—relax. It’s over. He can’t put a hand down on you now, or ever.” Matthew took a few steps closer to you as if apprehensive to approach you in the first place. You knew what you must’ve looked like: pale, still shaken by what happened. He held a hand towards you, palm up. “Can I touch you?”

You looked from it to his face, then said, “don’t get any funny ideas,” but it lacked your usual punch. You took his hand though, letting yourself be drawn to him. Matthew smelled like the sea. You couldn’t help but wonder if maybe he’d gone down to the beach earlier to take a dip. You wished you did that rather than try and drink your frustration over missing out on a random guy. God, you could sleep right here if sleeping while standing was a thing. “I’m sorry for reacting the way I did before—with, uh—what did you call him?”

Matthew chuckled, a low, deep chuckle. “Ron Jon.”

“You’re awful, Tkachuk.”

“And you have a funny way of expressing gratitude.”

“Sorry—”

He laughed louder. “I’m messing with you.” A pause, and then, “I’m sorry I rained on your parade earlier with the guy back then. If you really liked him…” He trailed off, as if to let you fill in the sentence for him.

You laughed weakly, waving a hand dismissively. “Thanks. Again. Seems like nowadays, I just keep having to thank you for one thing or the other.”

You felt him shrug. “Fine by me. You keep adding to these favors you owe me.”

“It’s only one. Well. Two if you want to be a dick and count this one too.”

You took a step back, detaching yourself from him to run both hands through your hair. You felt exhausted, drained of energy yet relieved. Who would’ve thought you’d be pleased to see Matthew pull another one of his appearing out of the blue acts?

“You give me no other choice but to be one,” he joked. “Come on, let’s go back to the hotel. Everyone’s wondering where you were, so you kind of lost your right to vote on dinner for tonight.”

You sighed heavily. “Let me guess: you all ganged up on me in my absence and settled on lobster?”

Matthew grinned. “Can’t vacation in a seaside town and skip out on that.”

“Ugh. Sea critters.” You pulled a face, drawing yet another laugh from Matthew. It made you feel oddly accomplished but you cut that train of thought there, forcing it to derail elsewhere, to place more familiar to you, more comfortable. “Matthew, I mean it when I said thank you. That was—it was scary,” you admitted as the two of you started walking back towards the hotel. You pulled your wrist into your hand, rubbing at the skin gently. Focused on the road ahead, you missed Matthew frowning down at the gesture. “I don’t know how that happened. It’s just—it’s not my thing to do. Go out alone, especially in a place like that. Good instincts by the way,” you tried to joke but it fell flat.

“Don’t mention it,” he said, voice tight. “I don’t want to think about it again if I can help it.”

You cast a confused stare in his direction but by then, it was his turn to look ahead, a frown marring his features. You didn’t push any further though.

Later that night, after you and Anna decided to call it a day and switch off the lights, you lay in bed glancing a look up at the ceiling above. You didn’t think back on the evening’s events but rather, thought back to how a familiar small brown paper bag was taped to your room’s door before dinner. Anna had fixed you with a knowing stare as you plucked it off the door, tipping its contents into the palm of your hand.

Then, you thought how during dinner, Matthew had claimed the seat next to yours and complimented the earrings you wore, remarking how awfully familiar they seemed though he could swear he didn’t know where from. For the first time, you had an inside joke to share with him and neither of you bothered to offer any clarifications to everyone else around the table as they tried to press for details.

three.

The Flames’ first game of the season was scheduled to take place in Las Vegas and with a few days left of vacation, you couldn’t skip on the opportunity to return to the city you were inexplicably fond of, as well as watching your brother play on the third line. The night promised to be unforgettable, and you wouldn’t miss it for the world. Although there were plenty of things to keep you busy throughout the day, your eyes would occasionally wander down to your watch, counting down the hours until the start of the game. It seemed like most of the city was doing the same.

Often, you’d spot handfuls of people donning Knights jerseys and occasionally, there would be a few Flames fans wandering the streets and locales. You’d only spotted one person wearing your brother’s jersey but that was more than enough for you – he was a fairly new face in the professional league, but he certainly pulled his weight during every shift he had on ice whenever given the opportunity. Luckily, you managed to take a quick photo of their back before they disappeared into the crowds, sending it to your brother along with a thumbs-up emoji.

He didn’t respond immediately, nor did you expect him to. You could only imagine how quickly he racked up pre-game nerves and he had a pretty strict routine, which included avoiding his phone until after the game. You couldn’t really make sense of superstitions even if each member of your family who played, whether professionally or otherwise, had their own. Naturally, you were surprised when your phone pinged, indicating a new message almost half an hour later. Except, it wasn’t quite who you were expecting.

Matthew is that your way of saying good luck?

You frowned, but all it took was a little more attention on your part to notice you hadn’t sent the message to your brother but rather, to Matthew. Lately, he was one of your top contacts for frequent messaging.

You wrong number

You good luck to you too though, i guess :/

Matthew busy?

You don’t you have practice to get to?

Matthew [attachment: photo of an ice rink where a few players were captured in motion]

Matthew [attachment: photo of his skates, taken from the players’ bench]

Matthew on break, where are you?

You hanging around

Matthew what are you wearing?

You [emoji: middle finger]

Matthew ice cold

Matthew nice, i can handle ice cold

You then go handle ice cold so you don’t get handled tonight

Matthew wish me luck too

You i already did

Matthew i need it twice, it’s my superstition

You that’s a bullshit superstition

Matthew if we lose tonight, it’s on you

You [emoji: angry face]

You good luck!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Matthew :)

You dropped your phone on the table with a low groan, slouching in your chair. From across the table, Anna shot you a confused stare which quickly morphed into understanding when you rolled your eyes, shooting your phone a look of frustration as if the device itself was to blame.

“Anything interesting?” she asked in a singsong tone.

“If you count Matthew being his usual self interesting, then that’s what’s up. Otherwise, nothing new.”

“By his usual self, do you mean engaging? Funny? Witty? So good with his words that he yet again takes your attention and keeps it while the rest of us, mere mortals, struggle to do that for longer than a few minutes tops?”

You arched an eyebrow, somewhat amused. “All that – just empty words.”

Anna leaned back in her seat, taking her glass with her while twirling the straw, looking ahead somewhat thoughtfully. “You know what the two of you remind me of? Those two kids in the playground who think love can only be expressed through pulling hair and making snide remarks.”

“First of all, that’s a shitty way of trying to get someone to realize you have feelings for them and second of all, love is a pretty big word. You managing to carry it okay?”

“Okay, maybe not love. But like? It has to be like. Say what you want to say but it looks different from the outside.”

“Okay, you keep staying out there and let me know what you’re seeing. I like your imagination. Very vivid,” you commented but there was no bite to your words and Anna threw her head back with laughter.

You didn’t think much of your exchange with Matthew throughout the rest of the day, nor did you try to linger too long on Anna’s interpretation of your relationship with Matthew. You let it wash over you, knowing it’d give her too much satisfaction if you fretted too much over it and anyway, many of your thoughts seemed to fly towards the evening’s game.

By the time the two of you made your way to the arena, however, you moved from anxiety to excitement within the space of mere moments, apparently. Even if this wasn’t your first rodeo and you’d been to countless games before, there was nothing quite like the thrill of an opening game. You and Anna had spaces reserved in the upper stands along with other family members and significant others but both of you chose to watch the warm-ups close-up, so you hung around by the glass at ice level.

The Vegas Knights and the Flames stepped on the ice to a combination of cheers and the thump of a loud electronic mix. You spotted your brother almost instantly. He did a quick lap around the team’s half of the ice before pulling a puck towards him with his stick, sliding it this way and that before shooting it over towards the net. Once sufficiently warmed up, he cast a searching look around the rink and you quickly waved both arms up in the air to try and get his attention. You knew he’d spotted you, but he made an entire show out of looking over you until you smacked a hand against the panel. You knew the sound wouldn’t be heard over the general noise of the arena, but he still laughed. When he skated over, you held your phone up, giving it a quick shake and mouthing “selfie?”.

He flashed a thumbs up and you quickly turned around to take the photo, but it wasn’t until you inspected it afterwards that you noticed you were photobombed by Matthew himself. You had every intention to look up from the screen and somehow try and get his attention only to glare at him, but he was a step ahead. You almost jumped out of your skin when you noticed Matthew standing right there by the glass, smirking at you.

“Asshole,” you mouthed, not daring to voice it out given you were surrounded by kids.

Matthew winked, skated to collect a stray puck then threw it up over the boards towards one of the kids standing right next to you. The kid was clearly thrilled by the gesture, bouncing up and down with the puck held over his head as if it were a trophy. You couldn’t help it: your heart melted at the sight, so you simply nodded once at Matthew, apparently just in time as the warm-up countdown reached zero.

You weren’t surprised the home team were putting on such a show for the opening night. There was a little bit of Vegas in every opening act: from the fireworks set off outside the arena to the showgirls and mind-blowing animations projected down on the ice, it felt more of a Stanley Cup playoff game than the start of a regular season game. This was Vegas and no one did it quite like Vegas did, you had to give that to them.

Both teams were almost evenly balanced throughout the first period but stepping out of intermissions and into the second, the Flames started powering ahead. It was as if something had clicked together even better and they functioned as a well-oiled machine, both in offence and defense. By the end of that period, they were leading the Knights 3-2 and you were more than elated your brother had earned himself an assist. Like all games, tensions formed quickly, and the third period saw both teams play aggressively. On several occasions, you caught sight of players clearly chirping each other even while heading towards their respective benches after the end of a shift. Once, Matthew seemed to be involved in a seemingly endless yelling match with a player on the opposing team. There were more checks against the panels, an impressive number of penalties drawn by both teams, and it felt as if the atmosphere was just tethering towards a fight.

It happened right after the Flames scored the fourth goal with just two minutes left of the game.

The moment the puck was dropped at center ice, you watched as Matthew charged ahead towards one of the Knights players who didn’t hesitate to drop the gloves. Between them, Matthew had the faster instinct, and he landed the first punch, effectively forcing both players to fall to the ice while the referees scrambled to try and split them apart. They were there a moment too late, just mere seconds after you caught sight of knuckles scraping along Matthew’s mouth on the big screens above. At first, it seemed to be nothing more than a graze but once he was separated and made his way towards the Flames bench, you noticed several spots of blood on his jersey on the screens above that made you almost jump out of your seat.

Sure, this was a familiar sight, but it didn’t alleviate the sheer shock and restlessness. Whatever had happened between them must’ve been a pretty big deal to set Matthew off the way it did. There was no way of sugarcoating it: the fight was vicious. More than ever, you wanted the period countdown to reach zero so you could go down to the lockers. It wasn’t just a few nagging feelings towards Matthew that led you to react the way you did. He was a friend, after all, so worrying for him was simply natural. An expected way of responding to a situation like that.

“He had it worse before, remember?” Anna reminded you as you followed the small stream of relatives and friends down towards the players’ rooms.

“Still looked pretty bad to me,” you responded, briefly pulling your lower lip between your teeth. Before she could continue being the voice of reason, you added in a light tone, “I just want to see if he had any teeth knocked out of his mouth this time around.”

It took some time before the players filed out and as you watched them come out one by one, you almost wished you saved this for somewhere less…well, public. Sure, you were just a friend checking on a friend, but you wished you could do that without an audience.

Your brother emerged first, beaming, no doubt pleased with the win, and you hugged him tightly, easily sharing his joy.

“He’s just getting ready to come out now,” he informed you, heading nodding back towards the locker.

You blinked. “What? Oh—no, I’m just. I was waiting for you to say congratulations. What are you even talking about,” you mumbled but inevitably, your eyes were drawn towards the locker room as the door swung open and Matthew stepped out.

His hair was still damp but already curling again. He was dressed in the same suit he probably arrived in, a simple light grey number that fit him perfectly. He had his backpack on also and in one hand, he carried an apparently ice-cold bottle of water while the other was pressing an ice pack to the corner of his mouth. When you made eye contact, he frowned lightly and for a moment, seemed almost hesitant to approach you. This time, you were a step ahead and cornered him before he decided to walk away.

You nodded your head once, indicating in his general direction. “What? You’re trying to add to the family’s hefty dentist bill by getting a few teeth knocked out already?”

Matthew shrugged. “It’s not hockey without a few scraps now and then.”

“For a guy who got a goal and an assist, you sure don’t look too pleased with that.”

At that comment, Matthew’s expression shifted, lightening up considerably. “Are you keeping track of my stats now?”

“What? No, Tkachuk. I was doing what everyone else in that arena was doing: paying attention generally speaking.”

Suddenly, his entire face scrunched up in pain and he almost doubled over as he groaned. Instinctively, you reached out for him, eyes widening a little when bending down a little to try and look at his face.

“Oh my god—Matthew. Are you okay? Do you need me to get a medic to check—”

You frowned as soon as you felt his shoulders tremble under your touch. Slowly, it dawned on you he was laughing. Laughing. You slapped his shoulder lightly, the gesture more a tap than anything else and you started walking down the corridor quickly, trying to catch up with everyone else as they filed out of the arena.

“Hey, hey, wait, Y/N! Come on, don’t be mad,” he called out after you and you heard him jog to catch up with you. When he did, he took a couple more steps ahead then stepped in your path, walking backwards to match your pace. “I was only messing around. I couldn’t not do that. You should’ve seen your face, honestly.”

“My face? Hope you’ve seen yours. I’m not mad. Me being mad would basically mean you managed to get to me which you really didn’t, so don’t give yourself any credit, Tkachuk,” you responded. “You just reminded me you’re still a dick so thanks for that.”

“Give me a free pass. I’m injured.”

“If you’re searching for sympathy, you’re looking for it in the wrong place,” you informed him, side stepping him so that he resumed walking at your side instead. After a few moments of silence, you conceded with a sigh. “Seriously speaking. How’s your mouth?”

“Don’t think I’ll need fillers, let’s just say.” He removed his hand from his mouth, and you looked over.

Thankfully, it seemed that putting ice on it quickly was paying off. The area was somewhat red, but no significant damage seemed to be visible to the untrained eye. He was certainly miles better than he was just months ago.

“Looks okay, I guess,” you shrugged. “What happened? Honestly, it looked pretty intense from the outside.”

Matthew didn’t respond and you didn’t press him for details even after you stepped out into the balmy Vegas night. If he chose to not share with you, then you guessed it must’ve been either pretty personal or pretty stupid. You leaned more towards the former. You didn’t even complain when he followed you to the car you hired, claiming the passenger seat. Before you also stepped inside, a message pinged in from Anna informed you she had taken off with Johnny for dinner but promised to be back in the room in a few to catch up.

You didn’t start the engine when you fixed your seatbelt and instead, leaned your head back against the rest, watching a few other vehicles pull out of the car park. In his seat, Matthew was looking out of the window to his left, heading resting against a loosely formed fist propped up against the door.

“He was talking shit about you,” he said at last, but didn’t turn to you when he spoke.

“Who was?”

“The guy on the other team. He made a comment about you towards your brother at the end of the shift. Something about… I don’t know, something crude, vulgar. Don’t really remember it.”

You didn’t quite believe him on the last part, but you allowed it anyway. “Okay… Well, I don’t know the guy anyway, so it didn’t matter, Matthew. You should have let it slip by or left my brother to deal with it.” Then, out of curiosity, you asked, “why didn’t you?”

More silence. Occasionally, the muffled sound of a passing car would cut through it but it, too, would be gone in seconds.

“Because I couldn’t.”

You pursed your lips and your fingers clenched then unclenched in your lap. You placed your hands on the steering wheel, then dropped them away before settling them back on it after starting the engine.

“Thanks, I guess. You just keep making me owe you favors.”

“You don’t owe me—”

“So, I’ll clear that now with dinner. Just please don’t tell me you’re going to need to be on a smoothie diet. I’ll feel bad eating something really good while you’re there with a strawberry and banana drink. Not that I’d stop eating though, just so you know. But it’s the thought that counts,” you said and finally, finally he chuckled quietly.

“No smoothie diets this time.”

You sighed dramatically. “Maybe no smoothie diets ever?”

Matthew shrugged. He was still not meeting your eyes but that was okay. “Can’t promise that. Kind of comes with the job. Just in case though, I like the sweeter stuff more. Triple chocolate, Oreo pieces, peanut butter.”

“Thanks, Matthew. I’ll file that under information I don’t care to know about.”

“I’m injured. Show some sympathy,” he demanded without heat, finally turning to you.

You cooed then reached out with one of your hands to pat his cheek lightly. “Aw, really searching for it in the wrong place.”

“I’ll make do with what I can get,” he allowed, and you could swear he leaned into your touch, but you tore your hand away before either of you got too comfortable.

four.

Matthew called in his favor after a few of his teammates agreed where to host their Halloween party.

“Kind of sounds like you’re the one asking for a favor,” you commented, planting yourself at your kitchen table while securing the phone between your ear and shoulder.

Matthew sighed on the other end. “Sort of. Who does a themed Halloween party anyway? The theme itself is Halloween.”

“You’re not wrong about that. Could be fun though, a bit more unique. So, what’s the theme for this year?”

“Couple outfits,” Matthew replied without hesitation.

You stilled and were grateful he wasn’t in the same room as you. It took you a great deal more energy over the course of the past few months to convince yourself that Matthew didn’t attract you in one way or another. His looks aside, it was rare you came across someone who could easily keep up with your snide remarks and the more you got to know him, the more you realized that there was more to Matthew than just being a typical athlete with his share of well-deserved fame. He was funny, dedicated and undoubtedly, caring. You had some first-hand experience with the latter. After all, he didn’t owe you anything to make him obligated to jump into whatever weird situation you found yourself in.

You warmed to him little by little. If you found him attractive, well that was for you alone to know though it made everything just that more difficult. Thankfully, Matthew seemed pretty oblivious to it or at least, he was doing a good job at pretending he didn’t catch you staring at him on several occasions or the few times you took a discrete step back if it felt like you were too close to him. Knowing he was asking you to go together as a couple (pretend couple, you corrected yourself) only added to the difficulty of coming to terms with your…crush.

Puppy love, you assured yourself. It’ll go as quickly as it came.

“Y/N?”

“Sorry, still here. Guess it sucks another year will go by without the opportunity to bring out your Fortnite costume.”

“Oh, come on. I wouldn’t dress like a game character!”

“Matthew,” you warned.

There was a pause, then, “okay, fine. Maybe I would. So, can you come?”

You shrugged, then remembered he couldn’t see it. “I owe it to you, don’t I?”

“Great! Hey, choose something good for us. There’s going to be a prize for best dressed and I have my eyes on it.”

“I think we can both agree my creativity will not let us down. I’ll text you my idea. You just make sure you actually stick to it, so I don’t end up looking stupid.”

“Don’t worry,” he started, “I won’t dump you on Halloween.”

“Good to know I won’t end up traumatized and have my favorite holiday ruined,” you said, by way of goodbye.

“Hey, spin around for me once. You look good. Blonde’s not bad on you.”

“No color’s bad on me,” you responded but refused to entertain Matthew by complying with his request. Instead, you rang the bell to Noah’s apartment after the door didn’t budge when Matthew tried the handle.

“Come on, just a spin,” Matthew insisted, nudging his elbow into your own then pressed the doorbell himself once again – hard, as if that would make it ring louder.

“Only if you dance for me and do the entire Greased Lightning choreography without missing a step.”

Matthew feigned a groan and you shot him an amused look. Before you could even comment on that, the door opened, and Noah stood at the threshold. The ruckus from inside spilled out into the corridor and from what you could see beyond him, it was a full house of all sorts of characters.

“Wow! Sandy and Danny! Finally, someone with really good taste,” Noah said by way of greeting and he looked towards you pointedly.

You flashed him a grin. “Always a pleasure to exceed expectations,” you responded and stepped into his open arms, a clear invitation for an embrace that was shortly broken apart by Matthew.

“Hey, none of that man,” he said, pulling you back and easily holding most of your weight as you broke into a laugh that had you stumbling into his side. “I didn’t even get to tell her she’s the one that I want.”

“Yeah, well, you better shape up ‘cause I need a man,” you responded, without missing a beat though you couldn’t help but replay his words in your mind. They sounded a lot like a broken record that you desperately wished to stop immediately before this…thing went way too far and spun out of control.

You were both led towards a photo wall and if you had any nerves about striking good poses without at least some liquid courage first, all that vanished. To your surprise, Matthew easily took the lead initially, falling to his knees in front of you in an attempt to recreate the part where a smitten Danny fell before Sandy, completely and utterly overwhelmed by her presence. Despite it being difficult to control your laughter, you played along with ease. At first, you were simply grinning down at him but you couldn’t let all his in-character effort go to waste, so you turned, casting a glance down towards him over your shoulder. To your side, Noah’s flash was going off every few seconds as he tried to capture the two of you from the best angle, together with cheers of encouragement. For your second pose, you rested your arms on Matthew’s shoulders once he rose back to his full height and his hands held on to either side of your torso. Again, the flash went off and again, the two of you changed pose into something more casual: him, standing behind you with his palms on your hips while you place a hand on his face, grinning at the camera. The flash went off again and he whooped loudly.

“I’m never inviting both of you to a party with this theme again,” Noah muttered, feigning disgruntlement. “You can’t come into my home and kill it like that.”

“Blame the one who came up with this idea in the first place,” Matthew defended, holding both hands up in the air in a gesture of innocence.

It was true. The idea to dress as Danny and Sandy from Grease came to you fairly quickly. You knew the two were a popular go-to, but you enjoyed the movie greatly. Plus, it was a great opportunity for you to pull out a pair of red heels you invested a hefty sum of money into. And, well, admittedly there was something about Matthew that made you think he’d suit the role just fine. When you shared your idea with him, he was on board from the start without complaining or suggesting alternatives. You were grateful for that: when Matthew picked you up earlier, dressed in an all-black outfit, leather jacket and hair styled to rival John Travolta’s, you gave yourself a mental pat on your shoulder. If any photos would go up on the internet, you were pretty sure Instagram would be grateful to you. Certainly, you knew Chantal and Keith would get a kick out of it for sure.

“Guilty as charged,” you acknowledged. “I’m going to look for Anna. Catch you later.” You gave a wave to the both of them before making your way towards the hub of activity where couple costumes ranged from peanut butter and jelly to superheroes.

She was fairly easy to locate, in part because she told you she and Johnny would dress as Wonder Woman and Steve Trevor. The red, blue and gold of her outfit were unmissable even in a sea of costumes. As soon as she spotted you approaching, she made a beeline and wrapped an arm around yours.

“Tell me you and Matthew will recreate the entire You’re the One That I Want scene,” she pleaded. “Please tell me that at some point this evening, you’ll tell us to clear the dancefloor so the two of you can have your moment.”

You rolled your eyes, dragging her along towards a table hosting drinks and small bites. “There’s no moment we’re going to be having.”

“Because you don’t want to or because you want to so badly that you don’t know how to ask him? I’m pretty sure he’ll say yes.”

“Neither,” you muttered but even you’d be able to hear the lack of conviction in your tone from a mile away.

To take your mind off it, you poured yourself a glass of red wine, taking a tentative sip from it. Across the room, Matthew had deposited his black leather jacket away and started making rounds around the room. You took a longer sip from your wine and looked away.

Anna fixed you with a knowing stare which you refused to acknowledge, but she knew you like the back of her hand. “It’s okay to say you like him, you know,” she advised, and you hated the soothing tone she tried to take when saying that. It felt more pitying than anything, as if you hadn’t already had your share of disappointments in love—or, relationships better said.

“Who said anything about liking him? He’s not bad to look at I’ll admit, but that’s where it stops.” You frowned, looking out of the nearest nearby window that gave a broad view of the city below. “That’s where I want it to stop,” you admitted, this time quieter.

You were well aware that you were occasionally trying to look for a narrative that was most convenient for late night thoughts when you had the peace and privacy to think of him as you wished. The reality couldn’t be more different, though, and you knew that. Matthew was helpful to you before because he was good friends with your brother and eventually, you realized that it was just part of his nature. Beyond being successful, beyond his fame and recognition, Matthew was kind and funny and respectful. It was just that you didn’t give him the chance to before and now that you got to know him better, you suddenly realized that…what? You’d like the first man who gives you a helping hand? If that were the case, you should’ve gotten the memo sooner: it would’ve been easier liking the tech guy from work who once debugged your laptop.

It wasn’t doing you any good to try and look for a ‘but’ in every situation: Matthew is helpful because he’s good friends with my brother but it’s not like that should force him to act as if we’re romantically involved not once or twice or thrice but now, four times. Regardless of how you looked at it, that reeked of desperation. You were in that weird period in your life where it felt as if everyone around you was in a relationship, so maybe that mood translated to you.

That’s right, you settled. That’s what was possibly behind these thoughts of yours. You found Matthew attractive – and what? So did plenty of other people. You saw him surrounded by girls after practice, after matches, while out. What you felt was nothing special. It felt easier to think of it that way, even if for a few hours to truly enjoy the party without having that lurking at the back of your mind.

You mingled easily, danced with Anna, danced with other players’ girlfriends and wives, danced with your brother, even attempted a few traditional Russian dances taught by Nikita, Artyom and a few of their friends, that left you breathless by their rapid pace and intricate footwork.

“I’m done!” you declared, breathless and almost swaying on your feet when another Russian folk song came to an end but thankfully, you managed to hold steady before you could catch a ride on the hot mess express. “Absolutely wasted. Knocked out.” You stepped away, tired but euphoric and dropped rather unceremoniously on one of the available couches pushed against a wall.

“Having fun?” Matthew asked and there was a light flush on his cheeks you knew wasn’t from dancing. There was even just a slight slur to his speech.

“The most,” you replied, breathless, and accepted the drink he held out to you. You took a sip without questioning him what was in the glass, only to find out for yourself he was settling for harder stuff tonight. “But never let it be said that anyone can keep up with Russians because let me tell you,” you whistled quietly, “we’re a couple of steps behind. Plenty of steps behind, actually.”

Matthew flashed a lazy smile and you briefly spared a moment to envy him for how kept together he remained despite being evidently buzzed. “’s okay. At least we’re the better dressed ones so we lose in style.”

You took another sip from his glass, holding it out to him with a smirk. “Tell me about it, stud,” you said in what you hoped was a low, alluring tone of voice but no sooner did you think that, and you were reduced to embarrassed laughter. “Forget about that! Forget it, forget it! Where’s the delete button?”

“I didn’t come equipped with that,” he declared proudly, finishing off what was left of his drink. “C’mere, you can show me a couple of those steps you learned.”

He stood, a little unsteadily initially then held a hand to you. You knew he wouldn’t have the strength to pull you up properly, so you stood easily fully intent to actually lead him through some of the steps. Except, Matthew was definitely swaying more than you thought he would. There was something inexplicably amusing about the situation and instead of directing him towards the center of the room, you steered him away from it and towards a small bathroom you were shown to earlier that night when you needed some time to re-touch your makeup.

“Where’re we going?” he asked curiously, looking over his shoulder towards the living room with a look that could only be read as longing.

“To cool down a little and then you can learn as many folk dances as you want. Believe me, you need to be alert for them. Can’t miss a step,” you advised, trying to steady him by wrapping an arm around him though the difference in weight between the two of you couldn’t compare. Still, you managed to get him into the bathroom safely without either of you making a mess of yourselves or the room.

“Are you gonna cool down too?” he questioned.

“Sure thing, definitely need it.”

“Good, we’ll cool down together.” With that, he made a move to open the glass partition for the shower cubicle but thankfully, you were significantly more alert than he was and managed to prevent him from doing anything more than that.

“Not that sort of cool down. Here, sit here,” you encouraged, lowering the lid on the toilet so Matthew could drop down. You doubted you’d be able to hold much of his strength above the sink if you were to help him splash some cold water on his face.

“But I want that sort of cool down,” he slurred. “With you. Us two. You said you want to cool down too. Could be a couple activity.” He grinned, as if proud of himself.

Thankfully, Matthew was buzzed enough to miss the flush on your face, the slight shake of your hand as you arranged a towel around his neck to prevent too much overspill before turning the tap on.

“Can’t do that, Matthew. Here, this will be much better, I promise.”

“Wanna try though,” he mumbled but was still compliant as you pressed a wet, cool palm against his forehead, then either of his cheeks. “Not cool enough.” His complaint was accompanied by a frown which only morphed into a lazy smirk when he leaned back, trying to pull you with him. “C’mon, Y/N. It’s a couple’s Halloween night.”

“Matthew, we’re not a couple,” you said gently, pushing your palms against his shoulders in an attempt to free yourself from his hold. Before it was too late. Before you allowed yourself to get drawn into a drunk man’s ramblings.

“But I wanna be. A couple, with you.”

You put all your strength into breaking away from his hold and thankfully, managed to do so. Your heart was hammering in your chest as if desperately trying to release itself from the cage of your ribs.

“Matthew, you’re drunk. Here, splash some cold water on your face so you can come back to your senses.”

“But I’m not drunk,” he insisted and as if to demonstrate, he stood up quickly. He swayed on the spot, stretching out his arms a little and once he found his footing, he looked towards you with an expression that mixed pride with hopefulness. “See? Definitely okay—”

You frowned, feeling a little caged in. You should’ve left the door open at least. “Okay, then let’s go back out there, yeah? I can get an Uber and I’ll take you home if you prefer that?”

“Yes,” he said, then leaned back against the door. “Only if you come with me.”

You exhaled, suddenly tired as if the exchange was working every ounce of energy out of you. “I’ll come to make sure you’re okay and can make it to your bed okay.”

“I can though. I can definitely make it there even on my own and you know why? Because I’m not drunk,” Matthew insisted and when you shot him a look of disbelief, he peeled himself away from the door. “Look, look I can prove it to you I’m not drunk.”

Before you could even ask him to walk a straight line without stumbling his steps, Matthew’s arm wrapped around your waist while his other hand pressed on the back of your head, bringing you closer until your lips met. Kissing Matthew was like everything you imagined and more. He even did that with the same passion with which he skated on ice, chasing puck after puck. It left you breathless how well he worked his lips against your own as if all along, he knew how to do that in such way that it’d leave your legs feeling like jelly. Beyond that though, it felt comfortable. Not forceful despite him having not asked if he could do it in the first place, yet it still felt right. You tasted sweetness on his mouth and the sharp tang of whiskey. Vaguely, you knew nothing else could compare. It was that thought that made you push away from him with as much force as you could muster, ducking under his arm and towards the door.

“I’ll ask someone to take you home,” you said without even looking his way before leaving dashing out of the bathroom.

“You okay?” Anna asked you when you ran into her. Quite literally.

“Uh—yeah. No, actually. I think I feel a bit unwell so I’m going to head home, okay?”

You made a move to leave but her arm stopped you. “Hey. Are you sure you’re okay?”

Above her shoulder, you saw Matthew emerge from the bathroom, a little dazzled, eyes searching the room. Before he could even spot you, you quickly freed yourself from her hold and nodded. “Will be. I’ll text you when I get home. Don’t rush back, okay? Tell Alex I said thanks for the invite.”

You didn’t stumble a step in your heels as you jogged towards the door, making a swift exit before you attracted even more attention.

+ one.

Matthew left no calls and no messages, but that was fine. You didn’t spend time trying to build your expectations of anything like that happening because drunk words weren’t always sober thoughts. The event was just something you had to deal with and if you had to do it alone, then so be it. Reasonably speaking, you and Matthew went from nothing to friends and if you caught feelings along the way, then that was your mistake for letting yourself slip like that. You were left broken hearted once, you really didn’t want to go through that again especially over someone that wasn’t even really and truly yours to begin with.

So, the next morning, you woke up at a reasonably early hour despite the late night but felt energized enough to sweep through your apartment and collect the garments you tossed carelessly on your way to bed after arriving at home. You said a heartfelt goodbye to Sandy, apologizing that in this scenario, her and Danny didn’t end up driving off in a red convertible. After that, you showered and changed in a fresh set of clothes even if the day would most likely be spent indoors. It was a fitting conclusion to the Halloween weekend, and you could do with some downtime, really.

Anna must’ve stayed with Johnny because regardless of how much noise you made, she didn’t emerge from the room and after fixing a quick breakfast and brewing coffee to continued silence, you knew you were right. It didn’t bother you. You’d make full use of the couch and stretch out on it properly as you flicked through your Netflix account and for the sake of sticking to weekend morning traditions, you selected a lighthearted sitcom. You were halfway through the third episode when your doorbell rang. You could’ve sworn Anna had a spare key of her own unless she misplaced it or forgot it home. Not entirely out of question.

Except, it wasn’t Anna who greeted you when you opened the door.

“Oh.” You coughed lightly, crossing your arms then unfolding them, then leaning one against the doorway before dropping it to your side. “Hey—uh. Hey Tkachuk, isn’t it a bit early for you to be out and about? You were smashed the last time I saw you.”

Matthew looked over your shoulder into the apartment, as if checking to see if you were alone. “Can I come in?”

Defeated, you stepped to the side and cleared the way for him to step inside before pushing the door closed. Part of you wished you’d dressed up as if you were ready to head off somewhere. You weren’t quite ready nor willing to face whatever music Matthew had in mind for you.

In the aftermath of the party, out of the flashiness of the costume, Matthew seemed to be perfectly clear-headed despite the state you’d left him in. The curls atop his head seemed soft despite the natural frizz and as he passed by, you caught a whiff of sharp cologne and fresh bodywash.

“Is Anna here?”

“Are we playing twenty-one questions?”

“No?”

“Kind of sounds like it, though?” You laughed quietly, trying to lighten the mood. It was bad enough the weather outside was gloomy, autumn settling in full force. Now, you had to deal with a Matthew who looked as if he wasn’t sure he came to the right place. “Coffee?” you asked, already leading the way towards the kitchen. You heard him follow behind you just moments later. While you poured a full cup for him, he hovered by the table, making you frown at him. “What’s wrong with you? You need an invite to sit down and relax? Seriously, Matthew, you look like you should be in bed.”

“You left last night without saying anything,” he said instead.

“Uh—yeah. I was kind of tired and I wanted it to call it a night early so—”

“Was it because of what I said or what I did?”

You almost dropped the coffee cup, but fortunately only startled enough for the liquid to slosh over the rim and down the back of your hand, causing you to hiss in pain. You cursed quietly and, in an instant, Matthew crossed over the room and took the cup from you, setting it down on the table before leading you towards the sink. As if used to this, he placed your hand under ice cold water and once the sharp pain numbed, you pushed his hand away, taking a step to the side in an attempt to put more distance between you.

“It’s fine, I’ve got this,” you mumbled, holding your hand still under the jet for a few more seconds before closing it.

It was hardly worth the fuss, but it gave you a reason to make yourself busy with something other than freaking out. It couldn’t be that he remembered anything. It couldn’t be that he was standing in your kitchen, thinking that it was a good idea to just open up that subject when you were so ready to take a shovel to it and bury it six feet under.

“Didn’t you get tired of it at all?” he tried again.

“Tired of what?”

“Of pretending. Of only acting like we’re together for one reason or the other—”

“Matthew, I asked you only once and you know why. I apologized then but if it helps you sleep better at night, I’ll apologize again for dragging you into my mess. I don’t know what the point is of this discussion—”

“The point,” he said, raising his voice but only to cut through your speech. “The point is that I’m tired of it. I’m tired of having to be by your side and pretend. It got to a stage where I don’t even know what’s real and what isn’t, and I feel as if the only time I’ll know that for sure will be when you find someone, so you no longer need to turn to me to pretend.”

“Matthew, I’m not using you, if that’s what you’re thinking. You’re coming at me with this out of the blue and I don’t even understand what this is all about,” you argued, waving a hand between the two of you.

Matthew clenched his jaw. You watched as he flexed it and his eyebrows furrowed. “Do you need me to spell it out for you again? I thought I was pretty straightforward about what I want last night.”

“You were drunk last night, is what you were. You could hardly put a foot in front of the other.”

“You know that’s not true,” he retorts, lifting his arms then dropping them back down to his sides. “I was sober enough to know damn well what I said and why I said it. If you want to keep pretending even now, even at this point, then you go ahead and do that but let me be clear with you again and you take what you want from it: I don’t want to pretend with you anymore. I want to be with you. You want to know what that feels like? It feels a lot like being so close to something you want, literally having that thing dangled right in front of you only to have it snatched just when you think it’s yours. Me kissing you last night? I’m sorry I forced it on you, I could’ve gone about doing it differently but I’m not sorry for what I feel. That was all me and not the alcohol. So, you take this and do what you want with it.”

You stared at him, disbelieving your ears. It wouldn’t surprise you if that was the case: you did wake up surprisingly refreshed even after an emotionally charged night, so for all you knew, you could be dreaming this.

“Matthew, what are you—That’s, you’re kidding me with this right? You can’t. You can’t possibly think that.”

“And why not?”

“Because it doesn’t make sense. Are you even hearing yourself talk?”

“Why doesn’t it make sense? Want me to go about it differently? If you let me pull your hair, I’ll let you push me in the sandbox.”

You were suffering from a strange, ill-timed case of déjà vu. Part of you wanted to laugh at the situation but the bigger part of you triumphed, thankfully. You released a breath you had been holding, bringing both hands up to cover your face, taking some moments to yourself. Or perhaps, you’d lost track of time because eventually, you heard Matthew sigh and felt his fingers wrap around each wrist though he didn’t put pressure to tug your hands down from your face.

“Sorry. I’m just—I’m not doing this the right way. I don’t want it to seem like I’m forcing my feelings on you and that you should accept them. If I misread us—you at any point, then fine. Just, we can drop it here and I’ll deal with it but—”

You shook your head slowly. “No, I just need a moment. Sorry. You really caught me by surprise. I didn’t… I thought everything you said last night…what you did… I thought that was just, well, just the alcohol. So, I did the best thing I knew to do and, uh, left.”

“Drunk words, sober thoughts,” he reminded you quietly and this time, you dropped your hands away from your face so you could look up at him.

He was so handsome. Ridiculously handsome in his casual clothes. Briefly, you thought back to the time you first found safety in his arms and wondered if maybe… Well, why not. You closed the distance between the two of you, wrapping your arms around him, fingers clinging to the thick material of his hoodie while you faceplanted against his chest and breathed him in.

You liked Matthew. You liked Matthew so much that the admission overwhelmed you so much that you squeezed him to you, trying desperately to bring him closer. The gesture seemed to prompt him into action, and he returned the hug, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and then to the base of your throat once he’d lowered his head there.

“Me too. I want to be with you too. Really be with you. No more of this pretend stuff,” you told him, your voice muffled against his body, but you knew he caught every word.

He chuckled, the sound low and deep, sending shivers down your spine. “We won Noah’s competition last night.”

“Bet he did it because of your long face,” you commented, unable to help yourself. “What did we win?”

Matthew made a move to step back, but you clung to him, much to your embarrassment. It seemed as if your body acted out of sync with your mind, but who could blame it when Matthew stood right there, right before you. Turned out he only took a step back to lift you off your feet and instinctively, you wrapped your legs around his hips, arms resting loosely around his neck. You leaned in and pressed a fleeting kiss to his mouth as he stumbled away from the kitchen while you stole another kiss. And then, just because you could, a third.

“A voucher to a seafood restaurant,” he informed you, breaking into a laugh when you groaned, throwing your head back in sheer frustration even if you had a strong feeling he was only messing with you.

“Remind me to never put so much effort if that’s what the stake are.”

“Noted. Next time, I’ll tell you we could just stay home for Halloween and play by our rules. Outfits optional. Probably not recommended.”

“That’s…really not what I said.”

“I’m reading between the lines. See? We know each other so well.”

You laughed as he carried you all the way into your room without even as much as breaking a sweat. That was definitely some food for thought at a later point.

#matthew tkachuk #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #nhl imagine #*

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helliontherapscallion · 4 years ago

Text

(Y/n) and the Terrible, Horrible, No Good, Very Bad Week: Tuesday

Monday Wednesday Thursday (Part 1) Thursday (Part 2) Friday Saturday Sunday

Spotify Playlist (collaborative)

Warnings: anxiety, doctor’s offices, taking pain pills (not sure if I need to tag that, but just in case), stalkers, blackmail, swearing, non-consensual taking pics of nudes, slight body dysmorphia, self-loathing, toxic friends

Word count: 5,326

(A/N): another long chapter, my little wlw heart loved writing this chapter! Also holy shit I was not expecting the first part to blow up, thank you to everyone that read it! Gosh, it’s enough to make a grown woman cry :’)

You cracked open your crusty eyes to Wilbur poking his head into your room. “(Y/n), Dad wants you.”

You groaned rubbing at your eyes in an attempt to get the sleep out of them. “I’ll be down in a sec.” Your voice was scratchy and thick with sleep.

He closed the door silently and you heard his socked feet thumping down the hallway. Your pain faded slightly into soreness, but your shoulders and upper back were slightly stiff. After you drug yourself out of bed, you shambled down the stairs to see your family at the table eating breakfast. Your stomach growled loudly, making you blush slightly in embarrassment.

Your eldest brother snorted. “Hungry (y/n)?”

You slumped into your seat next to him slowly shoveling food into your mouth. “You have no idea.”

“You wouldn’t be that hungry if you ate dinner when you got home like I told you to do last night, young lady. You better eat every single thing on that plate.”

There was no arguing with a stern Dadza, so you reluctantly complied. Meanwhile, Tommy and Tubbo were telling Wilbur about your match animatedly.

“And the ball was like fwoosh and she- the ball and-and-”

“And she hit it and Haley hit it to the other side! It was so cool!”

Wilbur merely smiled listening to them ramble about how badass you were last night. They made you feel genuinely happy that they admired your volleyball abilities; they were probably your biggest fans and that made your day most of the time. You remembered the first match they came to during your freshman year, they had run up to you right after the end-of-match whistle blew to spew about how good you were on the court. They met the team that day. Your team adored having them at your games, over the years they slowly replaced your school’s mascot. They played a huge part in morale boosts before and during matches.

He looked over to you, “I didn’t know my little sister could be so badass.”

You felt your cheeks flare up. “It’s nothing I haven’t done before. It really wasn’t anything special.”

“(Y/n),” Philza pursed his lips, “you did all that with a bruised back, I’d consider that something special.”

“Wait (y/n), you’re hurt?” Tommy and Tubbo looked at you with wide concerned eyes.

“Yeah, but it’s not that bad. I can still move and stuff.”

Techno rolled his eyes, “it’s bad if you’re going to the doctor for it.”

“Eh, it doesn’t hurt as bad as it did yesterday, so I’m not worried.”

“You’re deadass wincing everytime you move your arm,” WIlbur deadpanned, “it clearly still hurts.”

“Well yeah, I didn’t say the pain went away completely. Fuckin’ dumbass.”

“Language,” Philza glared at you two, gesturing to the two fifth graders watching the exchange with interest.

You and Wilbur resumed eating and murmured out a defeated “sorry Dad.” You both glared at Techno when he huffed in amusement.

“If you three keep bickering, you’re going to be late to school. Remember, you two have to drop off Tommy and Tubbo today cuz I’m taking your sister to her appointment. Now go get ready, I’ll take care of your dishes.”

Your brothers took off up the stairs, each competing to get to the bathroom first. Occasionally, you would hear shouts and slapping noises. You felt glad you didn’t have to deal with that today. Judging by Techno’s gruff voice laughing and an explosion of loud complaints from the rest, you assumed that he won today. “I swear, they’re gonna put me in an early grave.”

“You and me both Dad, you and me both.”

You went into the kitchen and pulled out a bottle of pain pills from the junk drawer. Various bottles of Motrin and Advil were scattered around the house because when you live with a rambunctious family like this one, people are bound to get hurt and headaches are common. Popping three into your mouth, you washed it down with a glass of water. The sound of the running water faucet and the slight splashing of water filled the silence of the room.

“How’s your back? Does it feel any better?”

“Kinda, today it just feels more sore than throbbing, my headache went away mostly, and my shoulder doesn’t feel any worse, so that’s better I guess.”

He shut off the water and reached for a towel to dry off his wet hands. He moved over to the freezer and grabbed a frozen package of peas that your family never ate. You all used it whenever one of you would get a bruise. He moved behind you and held it against your back without warning. Flinching forward from the unexpected temperature change, you winced with the wave of pain moving brought you.

“Shit, sorry.”

“You’re good. Just give me a little warning next time,” you chuckled. He gently placed it back on your back and you sighed from the slight relief that it brought you. You leaned into the peas and closed your eyes. “That feels amazing.”

“I bet. That bruise was pretty bad yesterday, can I look at it again?”

You reluctantly left the sanctuary that was the medical grade frozen peas and leaned forward, moving your hair out of the way for him. “Knock yourself out.”

He made a hissing noise as soon as he moved your shirt out of the way. “Dad, it probably looks worse than it feels.”

“...Have you seriously not looked at this yet? It looks pretty bad, hun.”

“Well, sorry I can’t move to look at my back without being in pain. I’ll try harder next time.” You snarked him.

“Hey, watch the attitude. Here, I’ll take a picture so you can see how bad it is.”

You heard the rustling of fabric as he fished his phone out of his pocket and the obnoxiously loud click of his camera app. You turned around to look at the damage. You squinted at his bright phone screen. Your entire back was swollen in some areas and was covered in ugly reds, blues, blacks, and purples. You made a disgusted noise in the back of your throat and cringed away from the screen. You always got nauseous seeing injuries.

“Yikes.”

“Yikes isn’t the only word I would use, it’s bad (y/n).”

“It looks worse than it feels, I promise. I’m gonna go get ready so we’re not late to my appointment. It sounds like the boys are finally done with the bathroom.”

You hobbled up the stairs slowly and made your way to the bathroom. The door was wide open ready for you to use. Turning on the light, you closed the door in a hurry so that your brothers wouldn’t try to get in again to hog the bathroom like they usually did. You frowned at your appearance. Your hair was sticking up in every direction and you had dark eye bags around your dull looking eyes. A few pimples dotted your skin like constellations in the night sky, but much uglier and more out of place. Turning your body, you scanned your figure. Your eyes watered as you realized that you had gained some weight. Adrian, Sammy, and Annie were right, you looked like garbage all the time.

You ripped your eyes away from yourself in the mirror with disgust etched deep into your features. You were disgusting through and through. Ripping your brush through your hair, you winced at the pain emanating from the back of your head. You deserve the pain for letting yourself go. Once you were slightly more satisfied with your appearance, you stepped out of the bathroom and quickly changed into the clothes you would wear today. You decided on a hoodie and a pair of tights. You didn’t feel like dressing yourself up.

You once again walked down the stairs and slipped on your shoes to meet your dad in his car. You idly scrolled through your phone while you waited for him, looking at your notifications for the first time that day. You had ten texts from the group chat that you were in with Adrian, Annie, and Sammy.

Sammy <3

(Y/n) where the hell are you?

Adrian <3

Do you guys think she ditched us?

I knew she was ignoring us

Sammy <3

Who ignores their friends?

Annie <3

(Y/n) apparently.

She has more important things to do ig

Oh my god

Do you guys think she skipped school?

Adrian <3

I wouldn’t put it past her

Maybe she finally gave up

(Y/n)

I’m sorry guys, I just have a doctor’s appointment today

I would never ignore you

Sammy <3

Yk, it’s hard to keep defending you when you keep ditching us..

(Y/n)

I’m not ditching you!

I’m sorry I didn’t tell you guys about my appointment

I’ll make it up to you guys

Adrian <3

How?

You’ve already skipped out on us enough already

Annie <3

Oh ik!

She can write our final research paper for us Dri!

I haven’t started it yet lmao

Adrian <3

Saaaame lmaoooo

Sammy <3

Guys, what about me???

Adrian <3

Idk, figure it out yourself

Sammy <3

Rude!

Uhhh

Ur gonna put together my final presentation for us history

(Y/n)

Alright, I can do that for you guys

Sam can you pls send me the rubric?

Annie <3

Thanks love ;)

(Y/n)

No problem, I like doing things for friends

My dad’s coming, I gotta go

Talk to you guys later

Adrian <3

Byeeee (y/n), ur the best!

(Y/n)

: ) <3

You put your phone down as your dad started up the car and pulled out of the driveway. The drive was quiet as you stared out the window and thought about how much work you now had to do. On top of your own classes, you had two more to write and a presentation to make in a class you hadn’t taken since the first semester in your sophomore year. The research papers had to be at least four full pages long with a minimum of ten sources each due on Friday and you had no idea how big Sammy’s US history presentation has to be or what it’s even about. But that was fine, you’d do anything for your friends.

“So, who were you texting? Your boyfriend?” He asked jokingly.

“Oh, just Adrian, Sammy, and Annie. I don’t have a boyfriend Dad,” because you were a closeted lesbian, but you wouldn’t tell him that anytime soon. “You know that.”

“I know,” he chuckled, “it’s been a while since I’ve seen them. How have they been?”

“They’re good. Adrian got a job at the diner, he’s a host. Sammy and Annie have been focusing more on raising their grades.”

“Good for them! You should invite them over for dinner sometime.”

“I was actually thinking that I could maybe go hang out with them on Halloween...?”

“(Y/n), the family was going to take Tommy and Tubbo trick-or-treating.”

“I know, but there’s always next year. Plus, we haven’t been able to hang out in so long! We’re always free at different times.”

“I don’t know (y/n), what if they don’t want to trick-or-treat next year? What were you planning on doing with them?”

“We were just gonna hang out at Annie’s house and watch some horror movies,” you lied. He would never let you go if he knew you were going to a party. Especially one where alcohol would be involved and hormonal teenage boys ran rampant actively scouting for an easy lay.

“...I’ll think about it.” The car pulled into the doctor office’s parking lot.

“Thank you Dad! It’s been a while since we’ve all hung out together.”

He chuckled as you both walked into the lobby, checked in, and waited for your name to be called. About ten minutes later, you were summoned by a nurse so you went into the back leaving your dad to wait in the lobby. The nurse recorded your height and weight (much to your dismay, you gained four pounds) and asked you the standard questions about your injury and uncomfortable questions about your overall health. The clacking of her acrylic nails on the plastic keyboard filled the awkward silence.

Once that was done, she left and you had to wait a little bit for the doctor. After slipping into the backless gown the nurse left, you mindlessly scrolled on your phone. Jumping when someone knocked on the door, you looked up to see your family’s doctor smiling at you.

“Hello (y/n), how are we feeling today?”

“I’m alright.”

“I hear that you had quite the fall onto some concrete, is that true?”

“Yes, I landed on my back and the back of my head.”

She reached over and squirted hand sanitizer onto her hands, rubbing it in and looking back at you. “Can you please lay on your stomach so I can take a look at your back?”

You nodded, shifting on the uncomfortable paper covered cushioned table onto your stomach. You felt her cold hands gently graze your bruises before she pulled out her stethoscope. “Can you take a good deep breath in for me?”

You complied and she instructed you to let it out. Doing this multiple times along your back, she put her stethoscope away and continued prodding at your exposed back.

“There’s definitely some swelling in multiple areas… It doesn’t feel or sound like you cracked or broke any ribs, which is excellent… Do you have any pain deep in your shoulder when you move it?”

“Yes, I landed on it wrong last night at my volleyball match.”

“How would you describe your pain? Stabbing, sore, throbbing…”

“More sore, but a little stabbing pain when I move my arm.”

She moved her fingers to examine your shoulder. “It doesn’t sound like a sprain or fracture, can you move it up and down for me?”

You moved your arm up and down, front and back, and side to side. “You still have a full range of movement, that’s good. Can I have you sit back up again?”

You sat back up and she started testing you for a concussion. After passing her tests, you were cleared of having a concussion. “Alright (y/n), it appears that you only strained your deltoid and teres muscles and you have severe bruising along your back. Make sure you ice your back and, if you have one, wear a shoulder compression sleeve. Anti-inflammatory medications such as Ibuprofen will help with the swelling. Other than that, you have a clean bill of health! You can still participate in volleyball practices, but you need to take it easy. Don’t do anything that will strain the muscles any further.��

“Thank you Dr. Samson,” you smiled at her.

“You’re welcome. I’ll leave you to change back into your clothes and you’re free to go! You may leave the gown on the table.”

She left the room and you redressed yourself. Walking out to the lobby, Philza’s head perked up when he heard the door opening. He stood up and walked over to you with a slightly worried face. You both walked back out to the car.

“So?”

“Dr. Samson said that I don’t have a concussion, sprains or broken bones. She told me that I just strained my shoulder muscles and I need to keep ice on my back.”

He visibly slumped in relief. “Thank god. What’d she say about volleyball?”

“She said that I could keep playing, but I have to take it easy.”

“Good, wouldn’t want you missing finals on Thursday. Do you know if the team you’re playing is any good?”

“Dad, of course they’re good, we’re the top two teams in the area.”

“I bet their setter is nowhere near as good as you are and I bet the setter and spiker aren’t as synced as you and Haley are. You two make a good pair.”

“Yeah we do, don’t we?” You looked out the window and smiled a little and felt your ears turn red. The very mention of Haley’s name was enough to make you feel like you were on cloud nine. The car fell silent again as you neared your high school.

In your AP world history class, the class was looking at the test you had taken yesterday. Surprisingly, you got a 74% on the multiple choice part and a 50% on your essay portion, so that landed you with a just below passing grade. You thought you completely flunked that test yesterday, so that was a pleasant surprise. It took a good portion out of your overall grade in the class, lowering it from a comfortable A- to a slightly alarming B. You supposed it could’ve been a lot worse. Besides reviewing your tests, the class didn’t do much except starting the reading for the next chapter.

Your psychology online class went like it usually did, however your phone blew up with texts about midway through the block. Glancing down, you saw that it was Haley. Shouldn’t she be in class?

Hales : )

(Y/n) meet me in the locker room right after school

I need to talk to you before practice starts

It’s an emergency

(Y/n)

What’s going on?

Hales : )

I’ll explain after school.

Can’t talk about it over text

(Y/n)

Alright, see ya then ig

You felt your gut twinge. Something’s wrong, but you didn’t know what. You were worried about Haley, usually she was really bubbly. You’ve never seen the senior act so strange before. You could only wait the block out until the bell would release you from the confines of the library and into the locker room. After sending a quick text to your brothers that you were going to stay after school for your practice, you stared blankly at your laptop’s clock as you counted down the minutes left in the class period. Ten minutes. Eight minutes. Four minutes. Two minutes. Thirty seconds-

You shot up from your seat as the bell rang. Pushing past some groups of freshmen that congregated in the hallways, you made a beeline for the locker room. In the locker room, you found Haley sitting on the metal bench on the opposite end of the locker room with her back facing the last row of lockers and facing the brick wall. She was clenching her phone in her hand with an iron grip. You hurried to sit next to her.

“Hales, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

“It’s bad (y/n). Like, really bad.”

“What’s bad? You’re worrying me.”

Wordlessly, she unlocked her phone and handed it to you. On the screen was something that you weren’t expecting to see. You scrolled through the contents and felt your stomach drop with each scroll; someone took pictures of you and Haley throughout the match last night. Every picture was a violation to yours and Haley’s dignities, they had gotten zoomed in pictures of your boobs and asses. Deeper, there were even pictures taken of you changing into your volleyball uniform through your open window. You were only in your underwear. Haley had a similar picture that you scrolled past as fast as you could. Scrolling to the bottom of the text message thread, the person that sent Haley the pictures added a caption to the last picture. It was a picture of you and Haley together celebrating your match, her arm slung around your shoulder with your mouth open mid-laugh.

Unknown

I’m sending these out to the entire school unless you stop hanging around her.

If you tell anyone, the pics will be printed off and put in every single locker and bathroom the school has.

You’ll be the sluts of Klinkver High.

Cut all ties now. You have two days.

Do not try me.

“Jesus christ Haley. Who the fuck would do this? This is sick.”

She took her phone back and locked it without looking at the screen. “I don’t know (y/n). I wanted to tell you not to openly talk to me for a few days. We don’t know who took these, we don’t know what they’re capable of. I don’t wanna risk angering them.”

“We can find them! If we look close enough, we might find a few clues where they were sitting. Do you remember seeing anything suspicious last night?”

“(Y/n), our best option is to leave it. We just can’t talk in person anymore; we can still text each other.”

“Hales, how are we gonna not talk? I’m your setter.”

She ran a hand through her thick black hair. “I don’t know (y/n). Just-just don’t talk to me anymore, I don’t want your pictures leaked.”

“I don’t care about my pictures. My name’s been drug through so much shit this past year that it won’t affect me. I don’t want your stuff leaked.”

She gave a watery laugh, “you care too much, I love that about you…” Glistening eyes turned to look deep into your own. “I’m so scared (y/n), I don’t know what to do.”

You pulled her into a hug, wincing slightly when she squeezed her arms around your upper back. She buried her face into your shoulder and started shaking with muffled sobs. “Haley, I promise I’ll catch whatever sick bastard is doing this to you. You don’t deserve this.”

She said nothing as you rested your chin on the top of her head and started to rock her back and forth slowly. You two stayed like that even after her sobbing resided, finding comfort in each other’s presence. Glancing at the clock, you realized that you two have been in the locker room for an hour. Practice was set to start in fifteen minutes, people were going to start coming into the locker room soon.

You reluctantly pulled away from the hug and looked Haley in her bloodshot eyes, “I’m not going to let those pictures of you get leaked. I swear on my-”

The door to the locker room swung open and loud laughter echoed throughout the room. Haley pushed you away and speed walked off to a bathroom stall, slamming the door shut behind her.

“Damn (y/n), what’d you do? She’s pissed.”

“It’s none of your business, Zara.”

“Oh, so it’s a lover’s quarrel then~” She cackled, her hair bouncing slightly with each heave of her shoulders.

“For the love of… Haley and I aren’t dating, we’re both straight.” She’s straight.

“Mmhm.” She brushed past you to go to her locker. You followed her, your locker was in the grouping next to hers. You shared the area with Haley. You changed as fast as you could so that Haley would have time to change before practice starts. Speed walking into the gym, Zara was hot on your trail wearing a shit eating grin.

“Why are you in such a rush? Giving your girlfriend the silent treatment?”

“Zara. We aren’t dating. For the last time, we’re both heterosexual, not homosexual!” You wildly gestured with your hands to emphasize your point, your voice being amplified by the vast gym. Coach Williams gave you a confused look from across the gym.

“You just keep telling yourself that.”

“I’m serious.”

“Hi serious,” a soft voice replied from behind you, “I’m Jazzy.”

You groaned at the pun at the same time Zara started cackling, giving the short libero a high five. “Nice!”

“That was so bad, Jaz.” You couldn’t help the smile that found its way onto your face.

Zara poked your cheek with a wide grin. “C’mon, you’re smiling!”

“I am and I hate it.”

Your bickering continued with Jazzy watching you two with a content smile. The remaining members of the team (Haley, Marlene, and Zuri) filed into the gym right as Coach Williams blew her whistle.

Practice went by slowly without Haley talking to you. Sure, you had the rest of the team, but it didn’t feel the same with you guys ignoring each other. If the team or Coach Williams noticed you two not talking to each other, they didn’t say anything. By time practice was over, you all went to the locker room to change. After slipping into your fuzzy pajama pants, you sat on the bench and texted Wilbur to come pick you up. He was supposed to pick you up after practice today because he and Techno took the car home after school. Five minutes passed and he still didn’t reply. He probably won’t see the text until you got home from walking.

You sighed, resting your chin in your palm as you leaned forward. One by one, the girls left the locker room until it was only you and Haley left.

“Do you need a ride (y/n)?” She asked gently.

“But what if the person sees us together? I can just walk home, it’s not really a big deal.”

She rolled her eyes at you. “It is a big deal. It’s cold and dark out. You could get kidnapped or something. You don’t even have a coat with you. I’m giving you a ride whether you like it or not.”

You playfully rolled your eyes at her and stood up to walk next to her, “okay, mom.”

“Don’t give me that attitude young lady.”

“You can’t tell me what to do, you’re not my real mom!”

She gasped and lightly smacked the back of your shoulder, “I married your- are you alright? Shit, I didn’t hurt you did I?”

“No, you’re good. It’s just this damned bruise.”

She moved her hands and frantically turned you around to pull the neck of your shirt down. You two stood in front of the school’s main entrance with the nauseatingly bright fluorescent light bouncing off the reflective surface of the tiles. The orange tinted street lights lit up the sidewalk outside.

“(Y/n)-”

“I know what you’re gonna say.”

She scoffed, “oh really? What am I gonna say then, o wise one?”

You turned around to face her, “‘oh, this is bad, yadda yadda yadda.’ Everyone’s been saying that about it. Honestly it looks worse than it feels. Tis but a scratch, m’lady.”

She snorted and covered her mouth, “never call me ‘m’lady’ ever again.”

You started to walk to her car in the empty parking lot. “Or what? What’re ya gonna do?”

“I swear to god, (y/n), I’m gonna leave you here.”

“Do it, pussy. Bet you won’t.”

“You really wanna bet?”

You grinned at her, “hell yeah.”

She broke off into a mad dash to her car, laughing freely into the night sky. You chased after her trying not to move your arms much, your laugh mixing with hers like a perfect symphony composed of the world’s best musicians. The sound of your rubber soles slapping the pavement resonated throughout the parking lot as you quickly gained on her. Reaching out to grab her shirt, she smirked at you and sharply turned to the right into the grass.

You grinned as her pace slowed down slightly. You’d be able to catch her at this pace. You pushed your legs to move faster as she looked at you from over her shoulder and shrieked in surprise at how close you were to her. You cackled at her reaction, reaching out once again, you grabbed her hand. She was stopped dead in her tracks as your shoulder was yanked with the sudden momentum, making you hiss in slight pain. Despite that, you didn’t let go of her soft hand.

You both stood there under the moonlight and the soft orange street lamps trying to catch your breath. The slightly damp blades of grass tickled your ankle as you shifted to face her better. Through gasping breaths and a dopey grin, you said “you… lost, pussy.”

She let out a breathy laugh as she pulled you to her car. “Shuddup.”

“Make me~”

She opened the passenger side door for you and got into the driver's seat. Her car smelled like vanilla and citrus. “Oh, you will later when I make you do more sets in weight lifting tomorrow, hurt shoulder be damned.”

She turned on the ignition and the car revved to life, soft indie pop wafted from the speakers. She backed out of the parking space and sped off to the main road. “You wouldn’t…”

“I’m your captain, (y/n). I can make you do whatever I want.” You felt your cheeks heat up a tad. You were happy that she couldn’t see you.

“Naw, you’re too much of a softie for that. Admit it, I’ve got you wrapped around my little finger.”

She chuckled as she pulled into your driveway and put the car in park. “...Alright, maybe you do. Just a bit.”

She turned to look at you. She looked stunning with the shadows accentuating the contours of her face perfectly. You found yourself glancing at her lips and leaning slightly towards you. To your surprise, she started leaning into you as well. Before your lips could finally mesh together, she pulled back with a sigh and ran her hand through her hair. You felt a rush of disappointment and fear course through your veins. She didn’t like you like that, you should’ve known better. You were so stupid. So, so stu-

“I can’t (y/n). I want to kiss you so bad, but we can’t. Not yet at least. Not until we find the pervert that took those pictures of us.”

You sighed, “right.”

The car was filled with awkward silence. Not even the soft music streaming from the speakers could alleviate the awkwardness. God, you really screwed up your friendship, didn’t you? Sammy, Adrian, and Annie were right; you messed up everything you touched.

You coughed, “I think I’m gonna…”

“Yeah…”

You grabbed your bag and walked into your house, the smell of chicken slapping you in the face instantly. Without checking in with your dad, you hurried up the stairs, desperate for the warm comfort of your bed. That, and if you wanted to get Sammy’s presentation and Adrian’s, Annie’s, and your research papers done by Friday, you had to start as soon as you could. You were going to skip dinner for tonight, you’d just grab more breakfast tomorrow morning.

You plopped on your bed and got started on your research paper. Luckily, you already had all of the sources you were planning on using and the rough outline of each body paragraph, so writing the actual paper wasn’t going to take long. You worked until you heard a knock at your door.

“(Y/n),” Techno’s monotone voice called out, “dinner’s ready.”

“Tell Dad I’m not hungry. Practice’s got me beat, I’m going to bed soon.”

He grunted, “you know he’s not gonna like that right?”

You felt frustration start to swim circles around your chest, “Techno, just tell him that I’m not hungry right now. Please.”

“Damn, you don’t need to be like that. I’ll tell him.”

You heard his stomping footsteps thumping down the hall. Shit, you pissed him off. You were a terrible person, he was just trying to get you to eat something, Pushing back the tears that threatened to spill from your eyes, you forced the panic that was starting to swirl around your body in laps deep into your being. You didn’t have time to deal with your failures and stupid emotions, you had to get this done. You didn’t have time to think about Haley’s warm breath ghosting across your lips. You didn’t have time to think about how she probably regretted almost kissing you. You didn’t have time to fall into an anxiety spiral, you needed to focus if you wanted Adrian, Annie, and Sammy to forgive you. You ruined yours and Haley’s friendship and did the same to yours and Techno’s. They were the only ones you had left. You needed to be a better friend.

Taglist (comment if you want to be added or if I missed you, it won’t let me tag some tumblrs :((( ):

@immadatmostthings @thaticecreambish @hee-hee-haw @dearnataliealoveletter @wasteofspacze @dcml04 @bbigbbrainn @dirtydiavolo @vanhakirja @rinzyx05 @misselsbells06 @ialexabsuniverse @im-a-depressed-gay @energy-drinkk @mothra-main @i-need-hugs @dragons-lurk-here @katj733 @m4r-s @vievi @dykeragee @waterstrawberry @aplaintart @kakamiissad @myunfinishedsymphony @nagitokinnieissad @autumnpleaves @justanothergirlwithdemons @zachariethememerie @moon-asia @m0on-blue @strawberrysodababy @akikko-yataro @haikkeiji @shiningsunrises @cinnamonmochi @queen-turtle-boiii @imanewsoul @sparkling-gayyyy @angelicaschuyler-church @vixenfoxpup @ella-ivanov @shio-yuki @mosstea-png @ijustshatbricks

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addictofreading · 4 years ago

Text

@zutaraweek

Zutara Week 2020 Day 3: Fuse

(Part 2/?)

Zuko had never been known for his calm and even temper. Even before his exile it wasn’t uncommon for him to blow up at someone when provoked. That it was a trait shared by most of his immediate family didn’t help him feel any better about it, especially when he knew half the palace staff was scared to even pass him in the halls when word got out he was angry. It was something he was working on and he usually accepted it as a process that took time.

Katara was not known for her temper. The other diplomats knew her as someone who was fiercely just, bold, confident, and passionate about her job. The palace staff treated her with proper respect while somehow still talking to her like she was one of their own. All smiles and gossip.

Obviously none of them had ever been on the receiving end of Katara’s fury when she was angry, but Zuko experienced enough to understand what she was really like.

The first time they had fought after they started dating he’d been scared he had ruined everything. That two people with short fuses could never make a happy relationship together and it was his fault for not having better control. The fight had been about something small and stupid, something that he would have tried to ignore but would definitely still eat away at him the longer it went not talked about. She had been the one to bring it up. The arguing started and then the yelling and then— to his amazement— the talking, a compromise and then before he knew it, laughing. The day had continued normally, only without the festering thing in the back of his mind from before, which had been replaced with another layer of appreciation for Katara.

They’d had a few small arguments since then, but they were easily worked through since their basic understanding was that they both really liked each other and wanted to stay together. Knowing that usually helped them not jump to any harsh conclusions.

But all this is to say that Zuko learned exactly what Katara was like when she was upset. Which was why, when she stormed into his office that morning all red faced glares and stomping feet (which probably would have looked adorable any other time), his first instinct was to rack his mind for anything he could have done to piss her off. His second instinct was to take stock of any liquids he had nearby as she had a tendency to waterbend without really thinking when her emotions got the better of her.

He couldn’t think of anything he did to get this reaction, so opted to stay quiet as he eyed her, slowly pushing his tea tray farther away from the papers on his desk.

She caught the action and stopped her pacing long enough to raise an eyebrow at him. He shrugged. She rolled her eyes and resumed pacing. Feeling like that was enough to confirm her ire wasn’t directed at him, he ventured to ask, “Katara. What’s wrong?”

“Aang. Aang is what’s wrong!” Oh. It had been three days since the Avatar and the others had arrived. Three days since Zuko and Katara told them how they were dating. And three days of Aang keeping his distance from them both. To be fair, he was still doing his part as Avatar and helping to moderate some important discussions about reparations with the Earth Kingdom, which was the original excuse for his visit. Aside from a few cool looks directed Zuko’s way, he was able to remain surprisingly professional and fair.

Though to be honest, Zuko had been less worried about Aang than he had been about Sokka. Aang may be the Avatar and Katara’s closest friend, but Sokka was still her brother and Zuko knew he still looked out for his little sister. It turned out there was no need to worry, though. When Zuko had approached him about it in private Sokka simply shrugged and said matter of factly, “I’m gonna be honest with ya, buddy. After the year and a half I just had, my little sister dating the new ruler of the Fire Nation is not the strangest thing to happen.”

So there was that.

“Didn’t he agree to practice waterbending or something this afternoon?” Zuko asked now. Katara stopped pacing again and the look in her eyes could freeze steam, no waterbending required.

“He cancelled. Said he had “important Avatar business” to do. As if I wouldn’t know anything about Avatar business!” She threw up her arms in frustration and Zuko’s tea pot rattled ominously. He casually shuffled some documents to the other side of his cluttered desk before standing and walking to her.

“I thought we were going to give him space to work through… things.”

She sighed and walked away to his open balcony. “It’s been days! And I’m no good at giving space. I just want us to be able to talk through it. We should be able to do that. We’re still best friends.” She hesitated. Hugged herself and sort of shrunk inward. Zuko was there, wrapping his arms around her before he even realized he stepped outside. “At least I still consider him my best friend. Zuko, what if he never forgives me?” She whispered.

He hugged her tighter and felt her lean into him. “We’re talking about the same kid who lectured us both on the saving power of forgiveness during a hundred-year war. I think you might be overthinking this, just a bit.”

She huffed out a laugh and actually smiled up at him, though ruefully. And he took a moment to feel the thrill of knowing he could make her smile, help her relax the tension building in her shoulders and brow. Especially now, when she was so upset and needed cheering. All he’d known for so long had been anger, so he never used to think he could do cheering. But for her he wants to become an expert.

“Fine, maybe you’re right,” she said reluctantly. “But if he doesn’t talk to me soon I’m going to sick Toph on him. And we all know how scary she can get.”

——

The length of this one kinda got away from me, sorry! My goal is to keep the ficlets somewhat short, but I kinda build the story up in my head while drawing and it sometimes becomes more than I originally intended. I tried to hide the text under a cut, but I only have my ipad and I can’t find the option to do that with the app. :/

Anyway, I’m loving all the beautiful works people have been posting! I love this fandom!

#addictofreading #fanart #zutara #zuko #katara #avatar the last airbender #ficlet #atla #zutara week 2020 #Fuse #zutara week

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thran-duils · 4 years ago

Text

Lost In Zero Gravity (P.12)

Title: Lost In Zero Gravity (Part Twelve) Summary: Fem!Reader x Mob Boss!Tony Stark x Mob Boss!Steve Rogers. Reader is a call girl who runs high end parties. She catches the attention of Tony Stark who invites her back to his room with his friend. She might have performed too well because she becomes their new favorite play toy and they don’t like to share. Words: 5,997 Warnings (for the fic in entirety): Smut, prostitution, infidelity, angst, domestic violence, stalking, possessive behavior Author’s Note: This is longer than normal, my b. And did I also just watch Iron Man 2 recently? Maybe. Also, I can’t help but to mention Pepper because I love her so much. Even if it’s off to the side. She’s still a queen. I also apologize for the French because I used google translate.

Part Eleven || Part Thirteen || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

One of their guys – Dasco, you had been briefly introduced to, you had not seen him before tonight – was waiting outside the car since he was sitting in the middle row of seats and had to put the seat forward to let you into the back. You had no desire to sit in between Steve and Tony again after what they had just subjected you to. As you approached the car, you did not break stride as you shoved the seat back so you were able to maneuver your way into the middle set of seats in front of them and you settled into the center one.

Dasco made no move to get into the car beside you you saw out of your peripherals as you reached to grab your seatbelt. You heard movement from your left side where Steve was sitting but it stilled all of a sudden.

“Y/N,” you heard Tony start dangerously from the right. “You’ve got ten seconds to rethink that and get your ass back here.”

You considered ignoring him and buckling your seatbelt. But you thought of Dasco – or even worse, one of them – dragging you from the car in front of your grandma who could still plainly see the SUV in the driveway. Exhaling annoyed, you stiffly got up and got back out of the car. Dasco flipped the seat forward again and you peered into the back where Steve and Tony were waiting. Steve’s hand on his knee was taut, his stare hard; your first obstacle into the back seat was getting past him. You crawled in, him not moving an inch, causing you to have to drag your ass across his legs in the process. You plopped into the center seat between them, snug as a bug.

Tony patted your leg, “Good choice. See? Goes so much better when the rules are followed.”

You said nothing not trusting yourself to be calm, digging your hand down by Steve’s thigh to grab the seatbelt clicker. He was still unmoving, and you held back a scowl having to dig deeper, brushing his ass. Clicking your seatbelt in place, you sat back, staring at nothing. You wiped at your eyes again, trying to clean up your mascara.

Tony was already on his tablet, working on something. You could not make heads or tails of what he did, so you did not even bother trying to pay attention. You snuck a look and saw Steve was looking at his stocks. Typical. Bending forward, you grabbed your purse and got your phone out. Opening up your décor app, you set to trying to distract yourself with it.

“Y/N, I think you also owe Terrence an apology,” Steve told you firmly. “Just so you make all the amends you need to for your stupid actions as of late.”

Your gaze snapped to the review mirror where you saw Terrence peering at you from the driver’s seat. He was not going to move the car until you did as you had been told.

“I’m sorry for drugging you,” you said stiffly. “You were an innocent bystander.”

You noticed Tony’s lips twitch like he was going to smirk, amused. He hid it though when he saw he had drawn your attention.

A few moments of silence passed before Terrence replied, “At least you gave me some good vodka to bring me down.”

<><><>

You fell asleep along the drive, waking up with your head resting on Steve’s shoulder, much to your annoyance. You had purposely fallen asleep with your head back on the seat, but you must have rolled to the side. You rolled away from him, trying to make as much space as possible which was virtually impossible, but you tried, nonetheless. Steve cracked his eyes open to side eye you, having dozed off himself.

Looking out the windows, you noticed you were back in the city, very close to home.

Picking up your purse, you dug in. Your brow furrowed as your hand searched not finding what you were digging for.

“Looking for something?” Steve asked dryly, eyes fully open now.

Settling back into the seat, you asked tightly, “Can I have my phone back?” On cue, Tony handed you a phone, but it was not your phone. Irritated, you said, “This isn’t mine.”

“It is now,” Tony answered. “Your SIM card is in this one now, it’s just under my plan. It was hell tracking you down with your other one. Thankfully, Tatiana doesn’t like her shit being broken and your grandma was nice enough to tell Daryl what club you were at. But I will not be wasting my time or energy like that again even with that help.”

You rounded on him as much as you could in the confined space and demanded, “What did you do to Tatiana?”

Tony shrugged, “Nothing to her. Just broke some shit. Like I said.” Clenching your teeth, you stared down at the new phone. Tony reached over tapping it, “Like I said, everything’s in there from your old phone.” Tears stung your eyes and you sat back defeated. “Love, come on. It was just a phone.”

“I liked my old phone case,” you said pathetically. That was true and it would not fit this new phone. But it definitely went deeper. Your phone was one thing that had been yours and yours alone. You had paid for it yourself, you had your own plan, it was something independent.

“Then order it again but sized to this,” Tony said flippantly. “It’s not that hard, Y/N.”

“I don’t want to do that! I want my phone!” you exclaimed, on the brink of absolutely losing it. You tossed the phone past your legs onto the ground in frustration.

“Stop being a brat. It’s not cute,” Steve snapped from beside you, his hand coming to your thigh and his fingers digging in painfully. “Now pick up that damn phone and stop with the dramatics. I’ve frankly had my fill of them. You’ve reached your quota, Y/N. Reel it back in now.” Steve was burning a hole through you with how he was staring at you and you tore your gaze away from him, bending forward and swiping the phone off the ground. His voice was taut when he spat, “Thank you.”

Tony picked up your purse for you from the ground and held out his hand. You handed the phone to him and he placed it inside and tossed the purse onto your lap.

Thankfully, Daryl pulled up along the sidewalk outside of the apartment building to end the situation.

Steve let go of you as the doors to the sidewalk opened, Dasco and the other, Raphael, getting out before Raphael let the seat up to let Tony crawl out. You began to follow him, but Steve grabbed you roughly again, stilling your movement before you could get fully out of the seat.

“Lucky for you and that pussy of yours, I’m needed back at home,” he fumed.

You were silent, seeing the anger swimming in his eyes. He was furious about the whole ordeal, that was apparent.

“Behave for Tony.”

You only had a moment to ponder what that meant before the back opened where your bag was and Daryl dug in, invading the bubble Steve and you had been holding. He let go of you and settled back in the seat, his glare still directed at you. You inhaled sharply before resuming your exit of the car.

Tony led you inside the apartment building past the doorman and the front desk to the elevator. He was carrying your bag, Daryl stopping in the lobby at the desk to flirt with the front desk receptionist as he usually did. You were sure he was banging her. Terrence got into the elevator with the two of you. Again, Tony’s hand was at the small of your back leading you down the hall from the elevator to the apartment, keeping you on the path. His keys jangled as he let the two of you into the apartment, pushing you in ahead of him. Your eyes scanned the room – nothing had changed. It had only been a few days, so that should not be much of a shock. But you certainly felt trapped again, knowing you were stuck back in here. There was no way they were going to give you your apartment key back.

Luna meowed from one of her cat towers at you, drawing your attention. Tony was at your back and he said, “Oh yeah, got her back. That cat is also mine, so maybe consult me next time, yeah?”

He left your back, moving down the hallway towards the bedroom. It was early in the morning and you just wanted to go back to sleep. You turned, following him down the hallway to the bedroom lethargically.

There was a travel bag on one of the side chairs by the window and you furrowed your brow because it was not yours. Tony was holding yours as he placed it on the other chair.

Tony turned around, spotting your confused look. He cleared his throat and then said, “Oh, right. Sorry. I’m staying here for a while. Giving the missus some space until she decides to stop being a bitch. Looks like we are bunking together.”

The last thing you wanted to do was to sleep next to him.

“I’ll take the couch then,” you muttered, turning around tiredly.

You heard him coming up behind you quickly and his hands closing in on your waist and arm stopped you, pulling you flush to him. Nuzzling into your neck he said, “Come on, love. Cross my heart, won’t touch you once we are in there settled in. We can both sleep in the bed. Soundly and sweetly. I won’t even complain if you wake up in the middle of the night and turn the TV on because you can’t sleep.”

You hated he knew you so well.

He laid a soft kiss on your cheek and you went rigid. He noticed, sighing heavily. His hand at your arm left, but his one at your hip lingered, his fingers circling softly.

“You’re upset. That’s okay. But you can sleep in the bed with me. There’s enough space. Right? It’s a king.”

Remembering Steve’s threat, you gritted, “Yeah.”

“Good girl,” Tony praised softly, letting his other hand fall. He moved around you towards the door. “I’m going to get ready for bed. I’ll join you shortly.”

He left the room and you turned back towards the bed, staring at it. He must have been already staying here because the bed was unmade – you had left it made, a habit. His wife must have kicked him out the day of and he had come here for safe haven. Your eyes fell to the end of the bed, thinking of you cowering there when his wife had assaulted you. You could not think about that. Tearing your eyes away, you moved towards your dresser, going to fetch some clean boxers to change into.

You got onto your side, your back to him trying to be as far away from his as possible whenever he got back from the bathroom.

When he walked back in, he turned the light off, shrouding the room in darkness. The bed dipped with his added weight on the other side, the comforter shifting as he covered himself. He was keeping his word though, staying on his side of the bed, adjusting the pillows. You relaxed only slightly, hoping it would stay that away, that he was not going to force anything onto you. Especially not after all the shit that had happened earlier tonight.

The room was quiet, the two of your breaths filling the space. You shifted, burying yourself further into your pillows, trying to will yourself to fall asleep. For how tired you were, you had worked yourself back up again.

Tony broke the silence, “I am sorry.”

Your eyes popped open at the sentence, your brow furrowed in confusion. Unable to help yourself, you turned your head to look at him. His hands were folded behind his head, his upper chest exposed. When he felt you move, his head turned to meet your gaze. “About my wife being a psycho and having you in that position. And with your grandma. That went… a little far.” You refrained from saying anything despite all the expletives you wanted to hurl at him at the emotions all of those memories brought up. He respected your silent treatment and did not press you to respond, “Just thought that needed to be said. Feels it was owed if you know what I mean.”

Not knowing how else to respond to it, you said quietly, “Thanks.”

He nodded, turning his head back and closing his eyes.

Confused immensely by that turn of events, you slowly turned back over, tucking your pillow back underneath your head. Silence blanketed the room again and you knew that was really the good night.

<><><>

Groggily, Tony walked into the kitchen, shirt still missing and in his boxer briefs, finding you working already on food for dinner. You pointed at the counter and said, “The jam and peanut butter are already out if you want to make yourself some toast.”

“No, too early,” Tony grumbled walking over to the counter. He furrowed his brow and asked, “Where’s the coffee?”

“In the bag.”

“Then what roused me from sleep?”

“Probably the cold bed,” you quipped not turning around as you poured more spices into the bowl you were using to collect them all.

You felt his eyes burning into the back of your head as you moved to pull the chicken from the fridge. As you approached the island again, you looked at him, finding him staring at you as you suspected. “What?”

“Nothing,” he said before moving to go make himself coffee.

He poured out his serving into the coffee filter and pressed start. Coming back over to the island, he watched you put the chicken breast into the bag and pour some soy sauce, fresh garlic, and vegetable oil over it.

“What are you doing?”

“Making a marinade.” Tony looked surprised and you said, “You tell me to buy groceries and then are confused when I do something with them?”

“Love, attitude,” Tony tsked. He peered towards the spice bowl you were working with. “What spices are you using?”

“Cloves, fennel, cinnamon, anise, cayenne, nutmeg, salt, pepper, thyme. It’s not the exact recipe but I like it more.”

He rose his brows and muttered, “Jesus. Who knew you were a little chef?”

“Happens when you have a parent who has cooking for a hobby. Rubs off on you. Do you want me to thaw you a piece in the microwave – cause sorry, I thawed mine in the fridge overnight – and add it to the bag for dinner?”

That comment amused him and he cracked a smirk, leaning on the counter. “You sound like a proper housewife, dear.”

“Well, it would be rude of me to not offer to make you some when I’m already making it for myself,” you told him honestly as you moved the wet ingredients around the chicken already in the bag.

His fingers traced your hip lightly watching you. “Are you going to poison me?”

“What good would that do me to poison myself as well in the process?” you deadpanned, looking at him.

Tony’s lips stretched into a smile and he chortled. “You’re lucky I’m not as high strung as our friend Steven.”

Swallowing your pride, you turned your body more towards him, pressing against him. “Is that a yes or no? Just so it can all marinade together in the same bag. I wanna throw the spices in over all the chicken I’m going to be cooking with.”

Tony’s gaze fell to your cleavage exposed through your silk robe before trailing back up to your face. He smiled again, leaning in and giving you a slow kiss. You were tense but tried to force yourself to relax.

“Impress me,” Tony winked before pulling away to go pour himself some coffee.

“Where’s Steve?” you asked, your curiosity getting the better of you as you moved the spices around now.

“Busy wooing his wife. He took her on a trip,” Tony answered you honestly.

So, the trip he had mentioned to your grandma had not been a lie. You were just not invited. That made you even more upset with him if possible. You made a disgruntled noise as Tony poured his coffee.

“Well, I’m gonna wanna grill these upstairs tonight. So, when are you going to be home or can one of the guys take me up to the roof to do so?”

Tony took a drink of his coffee and shrugged. “If you’re actually going to make me dinner, I’ll be home whenever you tell me to.”

“Seven then.”

He winked again, “Seven it is” before he turned, taking his coffee back down the hallway. “I’m gonna lay in bed and watch the news.”

You watched him leave, your eyes narrowing. He was acting normal… like nothing had happened. That set you on edge, but you decided it was better to play along with it. Maybe he was really trying to make amends.

<><><>

The following evening, you heard the bathroom door open as you were showering, and saw Tony enter. The shower was an open one, only a pane of glass on half, the opening walk in. The glass pane was fogged up but you could still see him as he began to strip as soon as the door was closed behind him. You walked over to the opening, running your hands through your wet hair to greet him but you stepped back seeing the blood on his shirt as he took it off.

He noticed you were staring, and he shrugged the shirt off, tossing it onto the ground.

“That was a long time coming for that complete waste of space,” Tony told you, sounding unperturbed. He offered, “Would it make you feel better if I washed my hands first before getting in?”

“Yes,” you said warily.

He shrugged and turned towards the sink, turning the water on. You watched his back muscles work as he scrubbed at his hands, washing them not twice but three times for you. Your eyes fell to the shirt again, taking in the blood splattered across it.

“I’m gonna burn it, don’t worry,” he told you catching your attention again as he wiped his hands on his trousers to dry them. Those went off next and he kicked off his socks. He must have left his shoes at the door. He gestured at you to move back and you did, allowing him access into he shower. He hissed against the water temperature and said, “Do you like to feel like you’re in hell?”

He pressed flush against you, his gaze burning into yours as he reached behind you to adjust the water temperature.

“That’s better. Jesus,” he muttered, lingering against you. “It was like you were trying to melt away.”

“I like it hot,” you retorted.

“Me too,” he chuckled, leaning down and kissing you. “Just in different ways.”

You rolled your eyes and turned away from him, but his arms wrapped around you, pulling you back to his chest.

“You were made to be worshipped,” Tony husked, his lips trailing along your shoulder, ending at your neck. His hands ran up between your breasts, cupping them tightly. He squeezed at your nipples as he sucked at your neck.

How hands that had murdered someone were so compassionate with you was beyond you.

“Tony, I need to condition my hair—” you started to argue, trying to free yourself from his grasp.

“You have dry conditioner. And don’t lie to me, I’ve seen it in the cupboard above the sink,” he argued back, his hand slipping down to your sex, his fingers pressing past your folds. “And if it’s that important, you can finish cleaning up after. I know I’m going to have to.”

Knowing he was not going to relent, you yielded to his touch, falling back into his embrace. He hummed in approval, his fingers diving deeper, squeezing at your clit gently. You pressed back against his pelvis and he chuckled, his lips trailing soft kisses up your shoulder. He played with your sex, dragging his fingers up and down, working you up.

“Gotta get you good and wet for me, right, baby?” You nodded in approval and he laughed, nipping at your neck, his other hand taut around your throat. “But not too much. I want that pretty pussy clenching around my cock, not my fingers.”

Tony shut the water off. “Don’t need any slipping hazards here.”

Pressing back, you presented to him, hating giving into your desire so soon, but also wanting the release he had started to press you towards. Tony let out a throaty chuckle, his hand trailing up your ass before he smacked, causing you to gasp. He smacked again and you let out another noise. “You’re so adorable, love.”

His cock dragged up your ass, pressing your cheeks against his cock. He slid up and down, exhaling shakily. “How are you so perfect?” he breathed, his hand coming back up to snake around your neck, the other at your hip.

He entered slowly and you breathed steadily as his hand flexed on your neck as his cock slid deeper. He was fully seated inside you and you shuddered, dipping your head. You clenched around him, trying to will him to move but he ignored it. He was still, holding you in place as you held him inside you.

“You like that? Being full of my cock?” he husked, his hand tightening on your hip. You nodded fervently, just wanting him to move, to do anything. His chest pressed against your back and his lips brushed your ear, “Say it.”

“Yes, I love it. Tony, Jesus, please just fuck me!”

He let out a laugh before he pulled out, his head almost leaving you before he slammed back in, jolting you against the wall. Your fingers dug into the tile as he drove up into you repeatedly with all his force. You were not quiet, falling into the rhythm of him thrusting into you and feeling his cock brush your g spot. You adjusted your hips trying to get him to hit it more and he laughed, getting the gist of what you were doing.

“Oh baby, you know the best angle for that is you face down.”

In a fluid motion, his hand fell from your throat and he pulled out of you. You whined in disapproval.

“Don’t be disappointed yet, love,” he told you, his hand coming to your shoulder and forcing you to your knees. “Get that ass up for me.”

You immediately did as he asked, and you felt him prodding at your entrance before he slipped back in. You cried out as he hit you full on and he groaned in approval hearing your praise. His hands were gripping your hips as he plummeted, impaling you against the tile of the bed of the shower. He was unrelenting, as if he was letting out the last week’s of pent up lust right into you. And you were relishing in it, racing.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you gasped feeling yourself spiraling quick.

“Come for me, baby,” Tony demanded, his hip snapping quicker.

That was all the permission you needed. You did as he ordered, your walls constricting and animalistic cries leaving your lips. Tony growled in approval, his thrusts becoming shallow. And he released, holding up your limp frame as he emptied inside you.

His grip laxed and you collapsed further into the tile, still trying to bring your own heart rate down.

“Shit,” he breathed after a minute, fully pulling away, leaving his cum dripping out of you. He stood up, stretching his body out.

You followed his lead and he helped you get to steady grounding. His nose nuzzled into your neck again and he walked with you towards the front of the shower, you letting him guide you. He pulled the handle, turning the water back on, thankfully at a reasonable temperature.

“Let’s clean ourselves up,” he murmured, kissing at your cheek, still holding you tight.

Tony pulled you back into the line of water, still holding you close. He reached behind him, grabbing the bar soap and he foamed his hands in front of you with the soap before placing it back. His hands ran up and down your frame, cupping and dipping, lathering you up. You relaxed, letting him clean you. His hands snaked between your legs and he cleaned himself from between your thighs.

Turning around, you looked up at him and he smiled, his hands coming around to massage at your ass. The water dripped around you, cleansing the soap from your frame. He rinsed his hands of the soap.

He broke the silence by saying, “The trip got moved up. We’re going to leave tomorrow.”

“Excuse me?” you asked confused.

He wiped at the water running down his face and said, “The trip. The one Steve told you about at your grandma’s – sorry, I know, still a sore subject. But the one planned for you.”

“But… he’s on a trip. Without me.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow and asked, “Yeah, he is. Which is why you’re coming with me on mine. Just to keep an eye on you and all, love.” He did not trust to leave you here by yourself apparently. So, not only were you not allowed to have your key again, you could not spend copious amounts of time here alone if they were not in the city. He grabbed the soap and lathered up his hands again, for himself now you guessed. “It’s gonna be four days. Although, about 26 hours will be spent on a plane. But Monaco.”

“Monaco…?”

Washing his chest, Tony nodded. “Mhmm.”

“Where is that?”

“Oh, southside of France. Little country.”

“For what?”

“That’s not anything you have to worry your pretty little head about,” Tony purred, his lips meeting yours again sensually. He pulled away and started washing himself down. “When we get back though, I will be going on another trip but that’s with the kids. So, you’ll stay here but Steve will be back by then. And I’ll tell him to be nice to you like he should be. He’ll behave himself, trust me, love.”

He winked at you before adjusting the shower head to aim more towards his body.

<><><>

You walked through the bar, Tony stopping you to pause at the camera. “Smile, baby,” he ordered you through his teeth and you did as he asked, trying to be natural. He guided you along further and whispered, “Well, that’s not going to make the missus happy. But, I should have assumed paparazzi would be here. I mean it is a highly publicized race.” Your eyes moved to the windows, looking out over the racetrack. “I did come here to speak business though.”

Since you had arrived in France, it had been getting off Tony’s plane, into a car, driving here, and sleeping. When you had been roused, it was to get ready and get yourself preened for this event. Tony had given you a bodycon red dress to put on for the event and he had winked at you when he said it was his color.

He brought you to the bar and his hand was flat against your hip, holding you to his side.

“Mimosa?” he asked quietly. “It is only 10:30 and that won’t draw too many suspicions.”

You met his gaze and said, “Vodka.”

His face broke into a smile and he chuckled, “That’s my girl” as the bartender came in front of him. “A screwdriver for my lovely date here and bourbon straight.”

When the two of you turned around, there was a man standing there with two men behind him.

“Laurie, I didn’t expect to see you but what a wonderful surprise,” Tony said politely, not being one to be caught off guard so easily. “You do have a racer today though, do you not? What a coincidence, so do I.”

The man he addressed, Laurie, shot a look at you before meeting Tony’s eyes again. He said something in French to Tony that you could not understand. They had a small conversation that got tighter the longer it went on and you were growing uncomfortable with each passing second with the growing tension. You took a long drink of your screwdriver.

Laurie’s eyes ran over you again lewdly and he said something to Tony that had Tony smile but there was no humor in his eyes. His fingers held tighter at your hip at it. His tone was frigid when he responded, “Vous pouvez parier que je ne perdrai pas car c’est mon jouet préféré.” (You can bet I won’t lose because its my favorite toy)

In response to Tony’s cold response, Laurie’s lips stretched across his lips in a challenging smile.

Turning his gaze back to you, Laurie said, in English, “You should hope Stark wins.”

Shooting Tony a dangerous look, he snapped his fingers at the men behind him before walking off, them following him.

Tony let out an annoyed breath and took a long drink of his bourbon, smacking his lips. “Fucking prick,” he muttered.

“Something wrong?”

“No. Nothing. Rival boss. He owns Blanchet Industries.”

“You’re lying. Something went wrong,” you accused him.

Tony turned his head to look at you and you stared back expectantly. He could not lie to you about that, it was plain as day something had transpired.

Seeing your defiance, he shrugged. “He’s mad I’m meeting with the man I am meeting with later. And he wanted to bet on the race.”

“Okay?”

“It’s not a big deal, love,” he said. “I’ll win. I’ll make sure of it.”

You did not like the sound of that but you followed his lead as he began to walk. He took a long drink of his bourbon again. The two of you approached a table with three people you had not seen before. You looked over your shoulder, not seeing any of Tony’s men in the room anymore. They had left the two of you at the door; were you to be that protected in this room? You felt some relief though the moment you saw Daryl coming through the crowd towards the table.

Pulling one of the chairs out from the table, Tony gestured for you to sit, tapping your ass.

“Nice of you to finally show up,” one of the men said, sitting rigid in his chair.

“Nice to see you too, Rhodey,” Tony responded as you sat down. He pushed your chair in and finished off his bourbon before placing it on the table. “I need to use the restroom. Love, this is Rhodey, Pepper, and Happy. Just sit tight with them. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He kissed the top of your head and strode off before you could even get a word out. Gaping like a fish, you watched him walk off. You felt the air shift beside you and Daryl was sitting down at the table.

“Daryl,” the other man – Happy, you assumed – greeted him.

“Happy,” he said in return.

You looked around the table and found Rhodey was the only one giving you a friendly smile out of the three. You settled back into the chair, putting your clutch on the table. You took another deep drink of your screwdriver.

“How are you enjoying Monaco?” Rhodey asked you, trying to make small talk. You leaned into it, trying to find some comfortability about being thrust at this table with people you did not know.

And it went well enough until Pepper gasped from across the table, leaning onto it. You followed her gaze to the TV, seeing Tony was on the TV. Your eyes bugged seeing he was in a racing suit. He had not told you he was going to be racing and you watched in shock as the roster flew up on the screen and the original driver’s name was replaced with his.

“Did he tell you he was going to do this?” Pepper demanded at Daryl.

Daryl shook his head, “No, ma’am.”

On the TV, Tony was telling the interviewers, “What’s the use of having and owning a race car… if you don’t drive it?”

“I’m gonna kill him.” Pepper breathed from across the table. “If he doesn’t kill himself, I’m going to kill him.”

You sat there in shock watching him getting geared up and into the racecar. Spotting a waiter, you reached out, stopping their movement. “Um, can I get shots for the table? Two for me, actually.” The waiter nodded and walked off. You looked back at everyone and saw their expressions. “What? He drives me insane too. Just let me handle it the way I do best.”

You looked back at the TV seeing him pull away from the pit stop.

Laurie’s words from just a handful of minutes before came back to you.

You should hope Stark wins.

Your fingers were digging into the back of your chair as you were glued to the screen. You only turned away when the shots came back and you rifled one down your throat. Your knuckles were pale the whole race, your hands gripping the chair. You only relaxed when you saw him come in third, two cars before Blanchet Industries’ car.

Tony hopped out of his car, waving at the cameras, looking triumphant. You turned back to the table and took the other shot. You noticed everyone else’s original shot glasses were empty too and at least you had done them that solid of giving them some liquid relaxation even if they had not taken the shots with you.

When he came back up to the table, he was back in his suit.

Pepper hopped from the table and got in his face, hissing at him, pushing him away from the table, and he was talking quietly back to her. The two of them were suspended in argument and you watched curiously.

Daryl leaned over and said, “She’s CEO now of Stark Industries. She’s gonna have to do some PR on this.”

Tony did not seem to calm her down, but he found an avenue to get out of the conversation which looked like basically just walking out of it. He came over to your chair and said, “Come on, Y/N. We have a private pool back at the villa. I need to relax. I got pretty tense during that race.”

Stumbling out of the chair because he was pulling you, you steadied yourself, throwing a look back at Daryl who shrugged as he got out of the car to follow the two of you. You matched Tony’s stride, moving past the paparazzi.

Out on the patio, you demanded, “You really threw everyone off guard and for what? Why did you have to win so badly? Why did you race?”

“Because he wanted to win you if I lost,” Tony responded out of the corner of his mouth as you walked down the stairs.

You stopped, causing him to stumble for once. He turned back to look at you as it clicked he had put your ass on the line because of his fucking ego? He could have told the guy to fuck off but he had accepted that bet? And then just raced?

Scoffing, you pushed away from his side, glaring up at him, rage tearing up inside you.

Tony’s expression melted to vexation, knowing the contempt rising up in you, “Y/N, sweetheart…”

“You’re an asshole!” you snapped at him before turning sharply and storming away from him towards the car where Terrence was waiting.

~~~

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#tony stark x reader #steve rogers x reader #dark tony stark #dark steve rogers #dark marvel fic #dark marvel #my shit

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