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youunravelme · 1 day ago

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meant just for you // part one

author's note: long time no see! i'm (somewhat) back! i'm really excited to share this story with everyone, but it wouldn't be possible without bestie girl @thewintersoldierdisaster who has helped me tremendously along the way. thank you so much, p! this is for you :)

summary: you have a history of dating around and hooking up. after seeing your teammates start to settle down, you and mat make a bet to see who can fall in love first.

pairing: mat barzal x pwhl!reader

warnings: mentions of sex (though no actual smut because i can't write that to save my life), cursing, toxic boyfriends

the meeting

being selected for the all star pwhl 3 on 3 showcase was an honor in and of itself, one you didn't take lightly. it was even sweeter since it was held in your hometown, ubs in elmont, new york.

you worked hard to get where you were today, not coming from money. sure your parents would be upper class anywhere else, but on long island? middle class. add on the extra expenses of skating lessons, goalie gear, and club fees on two teachers’ salaries, there wasn’t much cash left over when it was all said and done.

safe to say, your mom and dad shed actual tears when you were drafted to the sirens. whether they were tears of joy or tears of relief (from the fact that they hadn't wasted money on a career that would never be), you weren't sure. they probably would've cried regardless of what team, but knowing you were just across the river was a huge relief for them.

“proud of you squirt,” your dad said into your hair. “it’s time for you to start carrying your own goalie bag and peeling your oranges, now.”

you rolled your eyes. “i've been doing that for years, dad.”

“not the oranges,” your mom chimed in.

you grimaced. “i don't like the feeling of the peel getting under my nails. it’s gross.”

safe to say, you were ecstatic to tell your parents you were playing in the 2026 pwhl showcase. your parents had squeezed you so tightly in a group hug that you were sure some of your ribs cracked.

“you’re gonna be great!” your mom cheered.

“we can rent out our driveway to lazy tourists!” your dad said. you pulled back and gave him a strange look, but he didn't even look the least bit sorry. “i’m trying to earn back all the money i spent on your goalie gear, squirt.”

you'd rolled your eyes at the time, thinking it was just an over exaggeration, but when you saw how bad traffic was in elmont, you were grateful for the reserved parking for players.

you pulled into ubs’ reserved parking area, feeling the excitement hit you all at once.

you were at ubs for the all star red carpet event you'd grown up watching from the rug in front of the tv in your parents’ house. sometime that week, you’d be on the ice instead of watching the islanders from the stands like you had the last few years. you grew up down the street, and later that week, you would play on that ice in front of thousands of hockey fans.

you could feel the excitement singing in your veins, you were bouncing on your toes, tapping your feet in your heels as you got out of the car. you straightened your teal patterned pant suit and black corset top, before pulling your phone out of your pocket.

you: are you here yet?

you texted jessie eldridge, not sure if she arrived with everyone else. for the first time ever, you were running late. the anxiety (and probably the undiagnosed adhd) meant you spent more time fretting at your parents’ house than you anticipated, hence why you were arriving at the very end of the pwhl segment of the red carpet.

you’d have to apologize to your agent later.

now that you’d arrived, more anxiety started setting in. the cruel, self deprecating words inhabiting your brain told you to go home, that you didn't belong among “real hockey players.”

jess: not yet. pulling up now! traffic is insane!!!

you sighed and tried to touch up your lipstick in the reflection of your car window while telling yourself mentally that you could be brave, you could do hard things. you were the starting goalie on one of the six inaugural teams in the professional women’s hockey league, you were used to fear, or not feeling like enough. there was a reason you didn't check the comments on tiktok or instagram, or the replies on tweets after the games. people were cruel.

despite the shaking in your knees, despite the anxiety threatening to swallow you whole, you remembered the tears in your parents eyes when you got drafted, the hugs they gave you after each game.

you remembered the little girls you'd seen in the crowd with signs and your jersey on. that had to mean something, even if there were sexist pigs out there who didn't.

before you started walking, another car pulled into the parking lot and parked a few spaces away. you paused, recognizing the car, and waited for your teammate to get out.

jess eldridge popped out of her car, smiling wide as soon as she saw you. “long time, no see,” she joked, considering you saw her earlier that morning for practice. her eyes widened as she took in your outfit. “jesus fucking christ,” she said. “tryna get laid tonight?”

you grinned like a child and waited for her to catch up before you both started walking towards the red carpet. “we’re at a work function, jess,” you chided, knowing good and well that had never stopped you before. “how was the drive?”

jess shrugged. “traffic was not fun, you're lucky your parents live around here.”

“did everyone else ride on the bus?”

“they did if they’re from out of town.” jess pulled out her phone and checked the time. “i think we might be the last ones here. which, i’m always late, but you being late is unheard of.”

you shrugged. “i figured i could be late this one time. i’m early to every other event.”

the two of you walked towards the fan area, smiling as the noise levels increased. you started bouncing on your feet once more, grinning from ear to ear.

there were little girls who gasped when they saw you both. you pointed out a little redhead wearing jess’ jersey and the two of you quickly made your way to her.

sharpies were being pushed in your line of sight, it felt like there were so many people yelling at once. the announcer said your name, followed by jessie’s. little girls were asking for your autographs, social media interns were interviewing sarah nurse and emma maltais, there were random cheers at random intervals.

it was overwhelming.

somewhere along the autograph lines, you lost sight of all the other girls, only realizing when you looked up from yet another jersey and noticed you were standing alone.

an assistant called your name and gestured you down the line to take a few photos. you were on your way when a shoulder hit yours and nearly sent you sprawling on the ground had it not been for a firm grip around your bicep.

you glanced to your left and saw a man with a dazzling smile you knew all too well through the screen of your parents’ tv and your social media.

mat barzal.

“sorry,” he grinned. “didn't see you there.”

you weren't sure how, you two were standing eye to eye, it wasn’t like you were as short as emma, you were pretty tall, even without your heels on.

“oh,” you said. “you're mat.”

he nodded and stuck his hand out to shake before saying your name. you must've looked surprised because he laughed when he dropped his hand from yours and gestured to you. “you play for the sirens, right? goalie?”

you smiled and nodded before an attendant was ushering you down the carpet. you fully expected him to wave bye, but he kept up.

“you watch our games?” you asked.

he nodded again. “went back and watched the shut out you had against montreal. it was impressive, especially going against poulin.”

you beamed under his praise, remembering the amount of times you tapped the goalposts for blocking shots you couldn't or the twelve cherry starbursts you ate before the start of the game like you’d done since you were seven.

the game before, you only had eleven and lost by two goals. you weren't taking any chances anymore.

another attendant rushed you to stand in front of the banner to take your photo. mat caught up with you again after his picture was taken. “it’s nice to meet you,” you started when he was close enough to hear you. “my parents love you.” you blinked. “i mean, i grew up with islanders fans for parents.”

mat’s eyebrows rose, a small smirk on his lips. “really?”

you smiled. “grew up right down the street actually.”

he gave a low whistle. “bet that’s convenient.”

“my dad joked that he was gonna rent out the driveway to lazy tourists.”

mat threw his head back and laughed as the two of you continued down the carpet, stopping to sign autographs along the way.

“your teammates here yet?” he asked.

“i was definitely like the last one to arrive. jessie eldridge showed up around the same time but i don’t see her...” you noted for the first time that you'd lost her somewhere along the way. “whoops,” you said. “are any of your teammates here? is sorokin?”

“big fan?” mat snickered.

but your mind was already moving on. your eyes widened as you grabbed the sleeve of mat’s suit. “oh my god, is patrick roy gonna be here?”

he shook his head, still grinning like an idiot. “he’s taking the bye week to ignore our phone calls.”

you huffed.

the closer you got to the end of the red carpet, the more you realized you were going to have to leave mat, the handsome stranger who wasn't really much of a stranger considering how much you knew about him already.

he was starting to get tugged in different metaphorical directions by the fans reaching out for an autograph while it was obvious your popularity was nowhere near his.

“i’ll see you later,” you said.

mat’s brows pulled together. “you're leaving?”

you jabbed a thumb over your shoulder. “gotta catch up with the girls before the game tonight.”

“you feel good about it?”

your fingers twitched against your legs with more excited energy as you backed away from him, a smile on your face as you shook your head. “uh uh, nope. i don't talk about the game before the game, goes against my beliefs.”

mat cackled. “i’ll see you around, good luck!”

you spun on your heel and walked off the carpet. you walked until you saw familiar faces. emma and jess were standing at the end, looking at you and smiling as they talked among themselves.

“when i asked if you were planning on getting laid tonight, i didn't think you were going to go after barzal,” jess laughed.

you shoved her shoulder good naturedly. “we just ran into each other.”

emma snickered and shook her head. “he's hotter than all the other guys you've hooked up with, twitchy. why not give it a shot?”

it was true, you and emma went to ohio state together before being drafted to two separate teams. she was your roadie roommate and often saw the guys you'd swiped right on.

she was also the one who gave you what some might consider the offensive nickname of twitch.

“you keep spazzing out and twitching before games,” she noted.

“i’m practicing my eye and hand movements,” you said before popping a red starburst in your mouth.

you rolled your eyes but a smile was still on your face. “i don't hook up with hockey players.”

“why not? they’d be the perfect match, they'd understand your schedule, the intensity of the game. they could make a great boyfriend...” jess replied.

but you shook your head. “hookups are the only relationship i can commit to right now. i’ve got too much else going on. and hooking up with a hockey player just seems like bad news.”

emma and jess shrugged before you followed the two of them to your seats.

winter olympics - milan

the lack of travelling you did for the all star week was made up when you flew to milan for the winter olympics. it was a beautiful city to be in, no doubt about it. though, by the time you got to your room, you weren't interested in doing anything but collapsing face first into your bed. the six hour time difference and the flight immediately after all star weekend was starting to catch up with you.

safe to say, you felt like death heated up.

you shared a room with alex carpenter, your alternate captain. you loved alex like the older sister you never had, she was the picture perfect roommate.

except you were staring at her sleeping body like a weirdo because you were wide awake. how the hell had she fallen asleep so fast? it felt like your body was still in new york.

you finally accepted that you weren't going to sleep anytime soon, and instead of scrolling on tiktok and waiting for sleep to hit you in the face (and risk waking alex up), you grabbed your phone, your bag, and headed outside towards the dining hall.

it wasn't too long of a trek, though you were wishing you'd put on more than a pullover and leggings when the wind blew too hard. when you finally made it in the dining hall, your cheeks were both warm from the blood rushing to them, and cold from the wind.

you looked around the large room, for what, you weren't sure. maybe it was for people you knew, or the food options, but you had red starbursts in your bag so you weren't too concerned on the food front. still, you wandered around, looking at the food anyway, just to see if anything piqued your interest.

you'd gotten to the dessert section when a mop of dark brown hair caught your attention. at first, you weren't sure if it was him, so you approached him in a way one might back away from a lion in the safari: slowly. it wasn’t until you saw his jawline and profile that you knew for sure

mat barzal had a stack of cannolis on his plate when you moseyed up next to him.

“i feel like four cannolis at two in the morning is a bit excessive.”

to his credit, mat didn't jump when you spoke. “leave me alone, we burn like thousands of calories doing this shit.” he piled another cannoli on his plate before turning on his heel and searching for what you assumed was a table (and hopefully not more food). “what're you doing up?”

“my brain says it’s only 8pm. i didn't wanna wake alex with my doom scrolling,” you said as you followed him to a table.

mat set his plate down and pulled out his chair, gesturing to the one across from him for you to sit. “jet lag is a bitch,” he said. his head tilted when he saw the bag you placed in the chair next to you. “what’s in the bag?” he asked before taking a bite of one of his cannolis.

your eyes lit up as you smiled. “glad you asked.” you reached in and pulled out a starburst stick before ripping the top of it off with your teeth. you frowned when a pink one fell out. “dammit,” you grumbled, letting the pink starburst rest on the table. “pink is the worst.”

mat eyed you and the starburst for a moment before reaching for it. he unwrapped the paper and popped it into his mouth.

you did a little dance in your seat when the next starburst was red. it took no time for you to unwrap it and pop it into your mouth much like mat did with the pink one.

mat stared as he took a sip of his water. “is there something i’m missing? bringing a whole ass bag for just one thing of starbursts seems a little excessive.”

“you are correct,” you said, a smug smile on your face as you reached into your bag and pulled out a box. “i’m actually glad i ran into you. i was hoping i’d get to use this while i was here.”

mat blinked. “you brought battleship to the olympics?”

you nodded eagerly. “wanna play?”

mat sighed and shook his head, a smile on his face anyway. “you're so weird.”

maybe it should've hurt your feelings, but you'd been called weird all your life, this was no different. you shrugged. “maybe, but you didn't answer the question.

mat stared for a minute before pushing his plate aside. “no cheating.”

by 3am, you'd beaten mat twice and were on your way to your third win. “a7,” you said.

mat rolled his eyes and groaned. “you're definitely cheating. there’s no fucking way you're not.”

you laughed and fell back into your seat. “how would i cheat, mat?”

“i—i don't fucking know!” he sputtered and pointed an accusatory finger. “but i know you’re doing it! no one is ever this good at this stupid fucking game.”

“i played a lot as a kid,” you said like it was an explanation. “sometimes by myself.”

“how the hell did you play with yourself?”

you snickered, the joke was coming out of your mouth before you could stop it. “vibrators exist, you know.”

mat looked at you like you'd grown another head before bursting into laughter. “i fucking hate you,” he managed to squeeze out between wheezes. “you win.”

you giggled a little at his reaction, preening at the attention. “what do i get for winning?

mat slid the plate across the table to you. “pick a cannoli, any cannoli.”

you looked at the cream filled pastry, the way most of the cream had cooled to room temp and lost its volume, looking rather melted and unappealing. you twisted your face into a look of disgust. “i beat your ass three times and all i get is melted cannoli?

mat rolled his eyes, though the small smile on his lips betrayed his fake annoyance. “what do you want?”

you thought about it, thought back to the last few weeks, and what the next two weeks would look like. “you have to peel my oranges for the rest of the olympics.”

“...that's not a euphemism, is it?”

you cracked a smile. “no, i don't hook up with hockey players. my dad would peel my oranges because i hate the way the peel feels under my nails and oranges are my favorite fruit so it poses quite the problem.”

“so whenever i see you with an orange, i’ll peel it for you?”

you nodded.

he nodded and stuck his hand out. “you've got yourself a deal.”

you didn't see mat until two days later when you ran into him at the figure skating pairs event. well, “ran into” might be a bit dramatic. in reality, you were sitting in the stands with alex and emma when an unfamiliar (yet growing more familiar) body plopped down next to you.

before you could even react, a peeled orange in a ziploc bag appeared in your line of sight. “want it?” mat asked.

your eyes lit up when you saw it, your hands immediately reached out for the bag. “oh my god, i’m starving.” you did your best to not snatch the bag from his hands in your hunger, but you shoved three pieces in your mouth almost immediately after opening the bag.

mat cackled. “were you hungry?”

“starving,” you said through a mouthful of fruit.

emma laughed from her spot next to you. “oh my god. did anyone ever teach you not to talk with your mouth full?”

you shrugged. “i don't know, men are usually too busy getting the best head of their life to complain.”

alex choked while emma threw her head back laughing. mat froze next to you.

“you’re insane, twitch,” emma managed to say between laughs. “absolutely batshit.”

but you shrugged and kept eating your oranges.

“twitch?” mat said after a moment. “who’s twitch?”

you raised your hand like you were sitting at a desk at school. “that’s me,” you said after swallowing more oranges.

mat blinked. “why?”

emma piped in. “in college, she would look like she was twitching—”

“—i was practicing my hand and eye movements—”

“—in college?” alex interrupted. “she still does it.”

“and hence the name twitch was born,” emma concluded.

you rolled your eyes and looked at mat. “they're exaggerating.”

he only smiled and shrugged. “more creative than our nicknames.”

“well, the bar’s in hell then,” you said.

“barzy! we gotta go!” all four of you looked over and saw bo horvat standing at the end of the aisle, gesturing for mat to get up.

mat, to his credit, looked a little sorry to leave, even as he stood up. “i’ll see you around, twitch,” he said.

your friends, to their credit, waited until he was out of sight to start elbowing and shoving you around.

“he brought you a peeled orange? how did he even know to do that?” emma pestered.

once again, you rolled your eyes. “it was my reward when i beat him in battleship.”

“battleship? when did you have time to play that?” alex asked.

“the other night when i couldn't fall asleep.”

“are you gonna hook up with him?” emma bounced in her seat, her blonde hair falling around her face.

“i don't hook up with hockey players,” you said. “too close to home. besides, there are plenty of men to sleep with while i’m here.”

you found yourself making out with (and fucking) a french snowboarder before the night was over. he wasn't bad, he used a lot of tongue, that was certain. which begged the question: was it a french kiss in france? or was it just a kiss? you'd never know, you forgot to ask him.

alex was getting in bed by the time you got back to the room, your hair mussed and lips swollen. “eventful night?” she asked.

you shrugged and changed into your pajamas. “you could say that.”

“how was he?”

“sloppy kisser. how’s steph?” you asked.

a smile you could only describe as soft graced alex’s lips. “great, we spoke an hour ago. she told me to tell you good luck.”

“she’s so sweet.” you groaned as you fell back into your bed. “none of the guys i’ve been with have ever been that nice.”

the room was silent, yet so loud. “twitchy,” alex started. “they're hook ups, not boyfriends.”

you sat up in bed and looked at alex. “what do you mean?”

“hook ups have no emotional investment, twitch. why would they care if you did well or not?” she asked. and the truth stung a little, you weren't going to lie about that. after a beat of silence, she continued. “could it be possible the hook ups aren't enough anymore?”

you shrugged and fell against the bed. “i don’t know,” you groaned. “it’s not even like the sex is good anymore. i mean, it’s not bad, but it’s like i have to give a beginner’s lesson every time.”

“that is a benefit of a committed relationship. you're not starting over every time you have sex.”

you turned your head and saw how alex was scrolling on your phone. you weren't sure how she could do it when you were having a slight crisis. “but i don't know that i have time for a boyfriend and hockey. how the hell am i supposed to manage that?”

alex turned to look at you. “if he wants to be with you, and if you want to be with him, you both will find a way to make it work. but you have to get over this fear of commitment for it to work.”

you turned back to look at the ceiling and said nothing.

alex fell asleep shortly after your conversation ended like she didn't just wreck your worldview. and like a few nights ago, you got up and went to the dining hall, except this time without battleship or your bag of starbursts.

you should've been surprised when you saw mat again, but instead of focusing on why he was stuffing his face with cannoli, you just plopped into the chair across from him.

“do you ever wanna settle down?”

mat coughed and choked on a cannoli. “w—what? with you?”

you rolled your eyes. “no, just in general. aren't most of your teammates married? do you ever want that?”

he swallowed and nodded, taking a sip of water before speaking. “i mean yeah, eventually. why?”

you fell back into your chair and sighed. “i feel like my friends expect me to grow up at some point. i mean i’m almost thirty, shouldn't i be committed to someone by now?”

he shrugged. “i don't know, should you?”

“don't your teammates ask you about that?”

“i don't know, maybe. but i just ignore them.”

“you do?”

“...no. okay? no. it gets to me too. but it is what it is. i can’t manage hockey and—”

“—dating, right?”

he nodded.

“what if we made a deal?”

“a deal?” he leaned in. “i’m listening.”

“you and i, we both want to stop being single, right?”

“right.”

“but we’re athletes, we’re competitive. so what if we made this a competition?”

mat took a bite of cannoli. “so what’re you thinking?”

“first person to fall in love wins. we try dating around and finding our people but the first person to fall in love wins.”

mat’s eyes widened. “just like that? we’re going from an inability to commit to falling in love?”

you nodded eagerly. “it’s like exposure therapy! grabbing the bulls by the horns.” you inhaled.

“what does the winner get?”

you hummed. “a favor that can be cashed in at any time.” he nodded, looking lost in thought. “so what do you think? are you in?” you stuck your hand out, ready for him to shake it, but anticipating that he won't.

a moment passed. mat ran a hand down his face. “god i must be desperate,” he mumbled before he shook your hand. “i’m in.”

guy one: paul

you were soaked in sweat and your lungs were burning. with the water bottle attached to the back of the goal, you sprayed yourself in the face, the cold liquid doing wonders to cool you off.

you skated off the ice and towards the locker rooms. you shucked your jersey and chest protector off almost immediately.

“you in a rush, twitchy?” jess said from her locker across the room. “hot date?”

“maybe,” you replied.

truth be told, yes. you were meeting this guy named paul that you met on hinge. he seemed nice enough. granted, the bar was in hell. “nice enough” was the result of him not sending you a dick pick within the first three texts. he had yet to send an inappropriate text or photo, which gave you a little bit of hope.

so when you looked at your phone, you expected to see a message from him. but it was mat’s name on your home screen.

mat barzal: what time is your date tonight?

after that night in the dining hall, you and mat exchanged numbers. it was his idea, saying it’d be better if the two of you didn't leave meeting up to chance anymore. you'd hardly call meeting at two work events “chance” but you weren't going to protest.

you: 7, why?

you continued undressing until you were just in a pair of spandex shorts and a sirens shirt.

mat barzal: just curious.

mat barzal: you ready to hang it up?

you: hang what up?

mat barzal: your hoe stage. may she rest in peace.

a snort came out before you could even think to stop it.

you: i’ll hang mine up if you do the same.

mat barzal: i thought that was the deal.

you liked the message and locked your phone.

jess slid into the spot next to you and tried to peer over your shoulder. “what’re your plans for tonight?”

you shrugged and began untying your skates. “hinge date.”

her eyes widened as she smirked. “ooo with who? the mystery man you were texting?”

you rolled your eyes. “no, that was just barzal.”

it was almost like someone had used a clorox wipe on jess’ face, because any trace of her smugness was gone in a flash. “barzal? barzal who? barzal as in mat barzal of the new york islanders?”

you blinked. “yep.”

her jaw dropped. “when did you get his number? is he the one you're going on a date with?”

as if the word “date” was a beacon in the night, every single one of your teammates’ heads turned your way. “you have a date tonight, twitchy?” ella shelton asked. “who is it?”

“mat barzal!” jess replied quicker than you could.

it was silent for just a moment before a million questions were fired your way. since when were you dating him? how did you two meet? when was your first date? is this your first date? why didn't you tell us?

“we’re not dating,” you said over the noise.

“then why is he texting you?” ella asked.

“because we made a bet.” the girls leaned in. “whoever falls in love first, and by proxy gets someone else to fall in love with them, wins.”

alex carpenter blinked. “why?”

you blinked back. “why what?”

“why make it a competition? i thought you weren't interested in dating?”

you glanced around the room, most of your teammates were in committed long term relationships with someone and those who weren't had just gotten out of one. then there was you, and maybe one or two other stragglers left to go bar hopping with the potential of taking someone home.

sleeping around was fun, but maybe you were ready for someone to understand you, to not laugh when you say you love sleeping in socks. you were tired of falling asleep with cold feet anytime you wanted the other side of your bed warm.

but how could you say that? a post practice gossip session was not really the place you wanted to lay your heart bare.

“maybe i just wanted some consistency.” you gestured to alex. “i mean, i see steph at nearly every game. it would be nice to have someone show up for me other than my parents.”

the mass interrogation dispersed not long after that confession, with you heading off to the showers before heading home to your one bedroom jersey apartment. to pass time, you took a nap while watching gilmore girls.

you met paul at the chipotle not too far from prudential. he suggested it and though you'd had chipotle plenty of times that week, you agreed because it was easy enough.

you filled your bowl with your usual and watched as he only got chicken and white rice. part of you tried to brush it off by thinking maybe he had food allergies, but why would he suggest a place where he couldn't eat most of anything on the menu?

he picked a table in the middle of the restaurant, which was also odd, but you went along with it. he was already seated and mixing his dry ass bowl together by the time you made it to the table with your drink.

it was weird, you'd admit. it wasn't like you expected him to pull your chair out for you, but you did at least expect him to wait until you sat down to start eating. maybe his family was different than yours.

“so,” you started as you mixed your bowl with your fork. “what do you like to do for fun?”

god you were horrible at this.

he shrugged and stuffed his mouth full of rice and chicken. “i’ve been reading rich dad poor dad.”

oh god. he was even worse at this than you were.

okay, okay, maybe this date could still be saved. “so you like to read?”

paul shrugged again. “sometimes.”

you blinked and took a bite of your burrito bowl while you waited for him to ask you a question.

he kept munching on his chicken and rice.

“so,” you started. “do you have any hobbies?”

“running.”

more silence.

“what do you do for work?”

“i’m an accountant.”

you stabbed your bowl with a little fierceness, but tried to taper your frustration. “i play in the pwhl.”

you waited and watched, hoping if he didn't understand what you did, that he'd at least try to act interested. but he just kept eating.

“have you ever run a marathon?” you asked.

“no.”

the date continued on like that, your questions answered followed by painful silences that served to exacerbate how one sided the whole experience was. at the end, he stood up to throw his things away without saying a word. you followed, because you were ready to say goodbye and end the disaster you were ashamed to call a date (god you can’t believe you shaved for this).

the two of you stood on the sidewalk, letting people move around you.

“we should do this again. this was fun,” he said.

and without even thinking about it, you said, “was it?”

paul blinked. “why wouldn't it have been?”

you laughed until you saw he didn't join in. “oh,” you stopped, “you're serious.”

paul just stared like nothing had happened. before meeting him, you weren't sure what a blank stare looked like, but after seeing it on his face, you could safely say the lights were on but no one was home.

“paul, you didn't ask me a single question, the only reason we didn't sit in silence was because of me.”

he blinked like he was getting paid to do it. honestly, at that point in the night, it seemed to be the only thing he did.

“you have nothing to say?” when he didn't respond fast enough, you rolled your eyes. “bye paul.”

before you could stop yourself, you started the drive to elmont to see your parents. you could go back to your apartment tomorrow, but you really needed to touch grass after that date, even if it was the small yard behind your parents’ house.

you were at a stoplight five minutes from your parents’ home when your phone rang.

mat barzal.

you squinted at your phone but picked up anyway. “hello?”

“hey! are you currently at a stoplight?”

that was an odd coincidence. “yeah?”

“about two blocks from ubs?”

“...yeah.”

“okay cool, i see you.”

you look around alarmed until you saw a hand waving in the car next to you. you couldn't help the smile on your lips when you saw him sitting in the car to your left. his phone pressed to his ear with one hand, his other waving at you. “what the fuck are you doing out and about?”

mat jabbed his thumb over his shoulder, like he was pointing at ubs’ general direction. “just had a game. you? i didn't think you lived on the island.”

“visiting my parents. i need to touch grass, my date was rough.”

mat grimaced.

the light turned green and you half expected him to hang up, but he kept the call going. “what happened?”

“i would’ve rather watched paint dry than relive that date again. he was the most boring person i think i’ve ever met. i asked him questions and he'd give me one or two word answers and then wouldn't ask me anything. and then at the end of the night, he said we should go out again because it was ‘fun.’ and then he had the audacity to be surprised when i told him it wasn't!”

“how boring could he possibly have been?”

you groaned. “his order at chipotle was white rice and chicken.”

“and what else?” mat asked.

“that’s it. that’s the only thing he ordered.”

“oh my god.”

“and he reads fucking rich dad poor dad for fun i guess. and he likes to go running. he’s also an accountant, but don't ask me for any more information because i think he’s allergic to details.”

mat cackled through the phone. “what was his name again?”

“paul.”

“hate to break it to ya, twitch. with a name like paul, you really should've expected it.”

before you could stop it, a laugh bubbled out of your chest. “that’s super judgmental.”

“and maybe if you were as judgy as me, you wouldn't have gone on a date with the human equivalent of wet cement.”

you turned your blinker on and got into the turning lane for your parents’ neighborhood. “not all of us can be as discerning as you.”

“hey, if you wanna run your hinge matches by me next time, i’ll gladly provide my expertise, free of charge.”

“i’ll keep that in mind for next time, barzy. thanks for listening to me bitch.”

the smile on his face was audible when he spoke to you. “anytime, twitch, anytime.”

guy two: nathan

the second date only happened after an extensive vetting process, aka sending screenshots and screen recordings of hinge profiles to mat and jess (in separate threads of course. there was no way you were starting a group chat with the both of them).

jess had been more forgiving than mat had, which surprised you. she pointed out her fair share of red flags, but it was nothing compared to mat’s.

mat met you outside sweetgreen where you went inside to collect your mobile orders. to his credit, he did have a beanie (for once, it wasn’t islanders related) and sunglasses on in a sorry attempt to not be spotted. it was clear the attempt didn’t work because there were two kids asking for autographs when you came out.

you stayed back far enough where it wasn’t obvious you were with him and waited for the kids to leave with their parents.

“i swear i’m not trying to attract attention,” he mumbled to you when the coast was clear.

you handed him his order and rolled your eyes. “you're one of the most recognizable faces on long island, and you thought a beanie and sunglasses would save you?”

he shrugged before popping a pickle chip in his mouth and started walking down the sidewalk. “do you have any updated matches you wanna show me?”

without even responding, you handed mat your unlocked phone.

“oh immediately no,” mat said, looking at some guy named jonathan.

“what's wrong with him?” you asked, peering over his shoulder.

mat flashed your phone at you for a brief second. “he has a neck beard!

you grabbed your phone and looked at the photos again. huh, you hadn't noticed that before. “he can shave it!”

it was mat’s turn to roll his eyes. “he posted that picture because he thought he looked good in it, he's not shaving that fuckass beard.” he continued swiping through your matches and scoffed at most of them.

“this one has too many group photos, and i guarantee you, he's not the guy you think he is.”

two minutes later, mat scoffed and said fishing photos were a bad sign.

“it’s just fishing.”

but mat shook his head and offered no explanation. “didn't your friends tell you these things?”

“jess and ella were looking at the answers and content more than photos, i think they’re concerned about my safety.”

“and neckbeard passed the test?” mat’s eyebrows practically raised into his hairline. “twitch you are way too hot to be dating neckbeards and men whose only personality is fishing.”

“how is that fair to them? my only personality is hockey!”

you stumbled over the uneven sidewalk before mat’s hand steadied you by your elbow.

“try to stay on your feet, twitch.”

you stopped walking long enough to give him a look of disbelief. “i know you're not talking to me about staying on my feet. you fall down like four times each period.”

part of you expected mat to get defensive, but he smirked instead. “aw, you watch my games?”

you glowered and kept walking.

that was two days ago. you were currently getting ready to go on a date with nathan who had (somehow) managed to be approved by your board of trustees as mat called them. ella, jess, and mat couldn't seem to agree on anyone collectively until you matched with nathan.

he graduated from penn state law before he moved back to new york. he was the oldest of three boys and had played football since he was a kid. he doesn't play anymore now, you figured, but still got together with his friends at least once a month to play in prospect park.

it seemed like a good fit. ella pointed out how having friends was a good sign. jess said that he seemed to be passionate about his line of work and lighthearted. and judging by the dms you’d been sending each other, nathan was also way more charismatic and entertaining than paul, which was a win.

you met him at a coffee shop in manhattan, he didn't pull your chair out but he did stand when you walked over with your coffee in hand. which was fine, you weren’t old fashioned or anything, it was more than paul had done.

“hey,” he greeted with a thousand watt smile.

dear god, he was handsome.

it’s okay, you told yourself, you had marie philip-poulin shoot pucks at you a million times before, and she was way scarier than any man.

“hi,” you smiled back.

the two of you took your seats.

“hi,” he said again. “you look great!”

“you do too, handsome, i mean.”

he nodded and took a sip of his coffee. “what did you order?”

“mocha frappe,” you smiled. his face pinched in a small frown before it was covered up with yet another smile. “what about you?”

“americano,” he said. “i like it bitter.” he took a sip. “so i saw you're a fan of hockey, what’s your team?”

“oh, i’m actually a professional hockey player,” you gently corrected. “so, my go to team is the new york sirens, but if we’re talking nhl, my parents are huge islanders fans so i’ve been pulling for them as long as i can remember.”

his eyes lit up. “oh cool! i didn’t know you were a professional hockey player, i wasn’t aware they had a league for women now.”

“yeah! the inaugural season was last year, but we didn’t have official team names until this year.” you took a sip of your frappe. “what about you? do you follow the nfl closely? i know your profile said you played football.”

he smiled sheepishly. “unfortunately, i’ve been a jets fan since birth.”

you grimaced. “yikes...”

“take pity on me, i’ve been through a lot, my trust is damaged.”

you snorted before you could even think to stop yourself. your eyes widened as you made eye contact with nathan whose shocked face did nothing for your confidence. an apology was about to come out of your mouth before he changed the topic and pretended like nothing happened.

the rest of the date went so well, you exchanged numbers at the end of the afternoon. it was a little odd when you saw his phone, it looked older than you thought it should’ve, but maybe he was an old soul and didn't want the newest iphone just because he could have it.

on the second date, a week later, you met up on your side of the hudson. you were fresh from practice while nathan took his lunch break to see you.

his phone kept buzzing on the table, but he brushed them off as work emails, which made sense. he was a lawyer, he probably had hundreds of emails to answer on a regular basis. when his phone started ringing, he held it kind of awkwardly in a way where you couldn't see who was calling. he held a finger up at you and excused himself from the table.

you watched as he paced up and down the sidewalk, confused as to why he was so agitated. sure, you hadn’t known nathan long, but he didn't seem to be the type to frustrate easily.

your own phone vibrated on the table, and since nathan was on a phone call, you checked it.

mat barzal: when are you free next? i have raya matches and i need a girl’s perspective.

you: don't you have teammates?

mat barzal: they’re all practically married.

you: i’m failing to see the disqualifications

mat barzal: they’re all dudes, they don't know what they're talking about

you: and i do?

mat barzal: you’re a girl, aren't you?

you: i’m not even going to dignify that with a response

mat barzal: photo attachment

when you opened the text, it was a picture of what you assumed was child mat in hockey gear.

mat barzal: would you say no to this face?

you: i’m on a date, but when it ends, i’ll call you.

mat barzal: :)

nathan came back in, looking more flushed than usual. “everything okay?” you asked.

“huh? oh, yeah, just a work thing.”

you blinked. “seemed a bit intense for work...”

he shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich. “it’s just a lawyer thing.”

the lunch continued for another twenty minutes before he rushed off saying he had to get back to work. he pressed a sweet but brief kiss to your lips and promised to call you.

there was no reason to not believe him.

as you walked out of the restaurant, you pulled up mat’s contact and called him. he picked up on the second ring.

“hey! are you free?” he asked.

“just left my date.”

“oh...sorry, did i interrupt?”

you smiled despite yourself at the slight apologetic tone in his voice. “no barzy, you did not, he had to go back to work.”

“oh...so you’re free? right now?”

“yep, just headed back to my apartment. do you wanna come over?”

“yeah, just send me your address.”

an hour later, you were buzzing mat up to your apartment. he immediately started scrutinizing the space. it wasn't much, probably nothing like he was used to considering the giant salary gap between the two of you, but it was lived in. your grandmother’s quilt lay across the back of the couch you saved for. you'd thrifted the floor lamp and the rug (and the money you saved on it went to getting it professionally cleaned). on the coffee table was a candy jar full of only red starburst, the others were in a gallon sized ziploc bag in your pantry.

“cozy,” mat said.

“i know it’s not much—”

“do you like living here?” he asked.

you nodded.

“that’s what matters. that it feels like home.” he pulled his phone out and pulled up raya. “can you help me with this? the guys keep mentioning wife material and telling me i’m not gonna meet a wife on a dating app.”

you rolled your eyes. “your teammates have also been dating their wives since high school so i wouldn't take everything they say so seriously.” your thumbs began scrolling through his matches, taking mental notes of the girls flying across the screen. “not this girl,” you said, showing him a picture of a red head.

mat’s eyes widened. ”what? why? she volunteers at the animal shelter!”

“taking a picture at the animal shelter and volunteering at the animal shelter are two different things. besides, it’s the fact that all her group photos are with guys, not a single girl spotted.”

“so? she says she's one of the guys.”

“and in girl words, that means she’s dealing with a lot of internalized misogyny and might be a pick me. she’d probably see any woman in your life as a threat.”

“huh.”

“and this girl,” you showed him another one of your matches. “she seems nice, but if you look in the background of one of her photos, there’s a rangers jersey on the floor.”

mat physically recoiled like you'd just slapped him.

“but the other girls seem fine, especially this grace girl, she seems cool.”

“thanks, twitch,” mat said reaching for his phone.

you picked yours off the coffee table and plopped down on the couch. “wanna watch a movie?”

mat nodded and watched as you put on the mighty ducks. sure it was a bit on the nose and the two of you had already been submerged enough in hockey culture, but you were ready to turn your brain off and just be a kid again. besides, the two of you would probably end up scrolling on your phones most of the time anyway.

you opened instagram and saw a dm notification from an account you didn't follow. hesitantly, you clicked on the message and promptly felt you stomach drop to your ankles.

hey girl, the message started. the guy you’ve been seeing, nathan, is my fiancé, we’ve been dating since high school. i would really appreciate if you ended things with him.

“oh my god,” you mumbled.

“what? have you never seen this movie before? it always starts like this,” mat laughed. his laugh stopped short when you showed him the message. “shit.”

“yeah,” you said. “shit.”

mat’s girl one: lauren

the final buzzer sounded, signifying the end of the game, a 4-2 win over toronto at prudential. alex skated over to you first, wrapping you in a hug and patting your helmet. “good job, twitchy,” she smiled. your other teammates followed suit.

jess was last, embracing you as tightly as she could with both of your pads in the way. she skated alongside you back to the locker room. while you loved being one of the three stars of the game, you were glad you weren't chosen that night because nothing sounded better than showering and going home.

after the game debrief in the locker room, you rushed to the showers to scrub the layers of sweat off your body. only when you felt human again, did you get dressed into your sirens sweatsuit. sure, maybe you should've put your cute outfit on again, but you could already feel how exhausted your body was and couldn't imagine putting on an underwire bra and real pants after the game you just had.

on your way to your car, you checked your phone for the first time since getting to the arena. your mom and dad were the first texts you saw, both apologizing for not being able to make the game tonight and inviting you over to dinner the next night.

the most recent text was from emma maltais who told you to let her score next time just because you used to be on the same team in college. after all, weren’t you both forever buckeyes?

but it was the fourteen texts from mat that caught your eye. they all ranged in length with most of them being short exclamations and questions. the last text just read:

mat barzal: can you call me asap? i think i’m losing my mind.

as soon as you got in your car, you called him.

he picked up on the second ring.

“do i need to go to college?” he asked immediately.

what. the fuck.

“huh?” was the only intelligent response you could give him.

“do i need to go to college?”

“mat, what the fuck are you talking about?”

a loud sigh echoed through your phone as you pulled out of the parking lot. “you know how i went on a date tonight?”

“yeah, with that lauren girl, right?”

“mhm, have you read any of the texts i sent you? i feel like that would make more sense.”

“i’m driving right now, i just saw your text asking me to call you, i hadn't had time to go through the rest of them. why? what happened? was she secretly a serial killer?”

“what? no! she said hockey is barbaric and started quoting cte statistics to me.”

“what the fuck? who does she think she is?”

“she’s about to graduate from med school.”

“and she was on raya?”

“...she has a following on tiktok doing ‘days in the life of a med student.’”

if you weren't driving, you would've face palmed. “and she was telling you about how unsustainable a hockey career is?”

“she said i’d retire at thirty-five and probably have a mid life crisis that would be exacerbated by head injuries and how rough i’ve been on my body so it’s probably best that i look at going to college to find a real job.”

“oh my god—”

“so should i go to college?”

you sighed as you pulled up to a stoplight. “mat, how long have you known this girl?”

“...um, a week?”

“you're gonna let a stranger convince you to spend money on a degree you probably won't use? you get chirped a thousand times a night and yet you're not contemplating quitting the game just because someone you've played against for years says you suck.”

he paused, the only sound on the other side of the phone was his breathing. “okay okay, you're right. god i don't know why i freaked like that.”

“i don't either, you don't know this girl, you don't owe her anything.”

“what’re you doing tomorrow?” he asked, suddenly changing the subject. “do you wanna come to my game? i’ll get you a ticket.”

“i’m getting dinner with my parents tomorrow—”

“your parents can come! i’ll get the tickets for all three of you, if you think they’d be interested.”

if they’d be interested? what a joke! your mom and dad had been isles fans as long as you'd remembered. when you were growing up, your dad said you should play for the isles if they weren't going to make a women’s league.

“first woman to play on an nhl team would be quite the honor, don't you think squirt?”

“i’m sure they would love to be there, mat. thank you.”

you could hear his grin through the phone and imagined seeing his eyes squint from his big smile.

“i’ll send you the tickets.”

you woke up the next morning with a text from mat with the tickets enclosed; you shot back a quick thank you, and that you'd see him later.

when you called your parents the night before and gave them the news, they were ecstatic, asking a million questions about how you knew mat barzal, why he was giving you tickets, why you hadn't told them you knew him earlier. you'd told them you'd drive to their house after morning skate and you could walk to ubs together.

more than anything, you were excited to see sidney crosby playing up close. mat had gotten decent tickets after checking to see how close to the ice you'd want to be. he even told you to meet him at ubs before heading to your parents so you could get the family passes to come to the locker rooms after the game. you weren't sure why he was being so nice, but you weren't about to look a gift horse in the mouth.

you waited in the parking lot of ubs, leaning against the driver side door when mat sped into the lot and parked, rather chaotically, two spaces away.

he hopped out in his game day suit with mostly dry hair and three passes in hand.

“hey,” he smiled. and if nathan’s grin was a thousand watts, mat’s could power the entire island alone. “here are the passes.”

you took them from his hand with a matching grin. “thanks, mat.”

he shrugged like it was no big deal. “no problem. you got the tickets, right?”

you nodded. “they’re in my phone.

“great! i’ll see you later then?”

“try not to fall down this time, barzal.”

“no promises,” he said. “is that what you're wearing to the game?”

you glanced down at the black sweatshirt, jeans, and black and white dunks. “is this not fashion forward enough for you?”

“i don’t know, black’s not really an isles color...” he teased. “if you need any gear, i’m sure i can find a jersey—”

“i’m sure my dad has a t-shirt i can wear if it would really mean that much to you.”

mat slapped a hand over his heart. “would you do me the honor of not wearing the colors of the team i’m playing against? i would really appreciate it.”

“you’re so dramatic.”

“only for you, twitch.”

you laughed and shook your head. there was a moment where it looked like mat lit up at the sound of your laughter, but you were probably reading into things.

“i’ll see you after the game?”

he nodded. “see you then.”

you left him in the parking lot and headed down the street to your parents’ house. to no one’s surprise, they were both fully dressed and ready to go to the game that didn’t start for another four hours.

“how do you know mat barzal, sweetheart?” your mom asked as soon as you got settled on the couch. “i don't think you ever really explained it.”

“we met on the all star red carpet fan event. i was late, he was early.”

your dad cocked an eyebrow. “and he gave you tickets to a game after one interaction?”

you shook your head. “we ran into each other at the olympics, started talking more after that.”

“well, i think it’s very nice of him to invite us to his game tonight,” your mom replied, but there was a tone in her voice that had you looking at her suspiciously.

“you're not dating him are you?” your dad asked flat out.

you choked on your own spit, hacking and coughing until you felt like you could breathe again. “what?! no! we’re just friends.”

“hm.” your parents hummed in unison.

it used to unnerve you how many times your parents did things in sync. walking, talking, humming together, they did it all. but they’d been married for thirty years, maybe it would've been odder if they weren't so in tune with each other.

the three of you watched a rerun of ncis before you started walking to ubs together. the walk was only twenty minutes, but the wind was brutal that evening. by the time you made it in the arena, you couldn't feel your face.

you made your way down to your seats and watched as the kids gathered in the space in front of you. mat wasn't fooling around, they were great seats, right behind the bench, across from the penalty box.

the area had cleared out mostly by the time the game started, leaving you and your parents to freak out about being so close to one of your childhood heroes, patrick roy.

god, you'd have to see if mat would let you meet him.

the game itself was an ugly one, ending in a win for the islanders, but it didn't really feel like one. it didn't take you playing hockey your whole life to know that there were penalty kills that should've never happened, sloppiness on both teams. hell, you probably didn't even have to be anything more than a fan to realize that.

nonetheless, you and your parents made your way down to the locker rooms where you saw a crowd of blonde women and their children. you could feel their eyes on you, but it didn't feel judgmental, just curious if anything.

there was no telling how long you waited before players started coming out of the locker room and greeting their partners. you recognized them all, but had never met any of them but mat, so you kept to yourself and your parents, looking up occasionally to look for mat.

when he finally walked out, you called his name and waved, cheesing like you did for your kindergarten school photos. in real time, you watched his face light up as he walked over to you.

“great game,” your dad greeted.

mat immediately stepped up and stuck out his hand to greet your father. “thanks, sir. it’s nice to meet you, i’m mat.” he looked at your mom. “and you must be twitch’s sister.”

on cue, you could’ve sworn your mother swooned. you rolled your eyes.

what a charmer.

you watched with a smile as your dad and mat talked about the game. your dad, while quite knowledgeable, was sensitive enough to not mention the multitude of mistakes made that night.

“we definitely need to clean up a little during practice this week,” mat started. “i think roy is gonna address it...”

you couldn't hear another word after he said patrick roy’s name, like you suddenly remembered mat was being coached by your childhood hero. you tugged on mat’s arm like a child asking for another cookie.

“mat,” you started. he immediately turned to look at you, his brows pulled together in confusion. “can i meet coach roy? please?”

“oh lord,” your mother said. “you’ve started it now, mat.”

“squirt, he's probably busy, mat’s already been kind enough to invite us—”

mat glanced over his shoulder to the locker room, then looked around the hallway, like he was taking attendance. “you wanna meet him?”

you nodded emphatically, bouncing on your feet.

mat placed a hand on your back. “i’ll introduce you.”

your parents eyed mat’s hand but said nothing. you were too busy hearing the rush of blood in your head to fixate on it. “squirt, we’ll meet you at the house, you too mat! join us for dinner if you’re not too tired!” they turned on their heels and headed out of the tunnel towards the exit.

mat led you towards the locker room, but made you wait outside while he glanced around to make sure there were no naked men inside. when the coast was clear, he gestured you to come inside.

you were practically skipping into the room.

patrick roy stood by one of the lockers talking to anders lee when you entered the locker room. your jaw dropped at being so close to the man whose film you watched over and over again on youtube.

“don’t be weird,” mat mumbled. “he's just a guy.”

“you shut the fuck up,” you mumbled in reply. “he’s patrick fucking roy.”

as soon as anders finished talking to roy, he started towards the exit, nodding at you (albeit a little confused) and clapped mat on the shoulder.

the hand on your back pushed you forward until you were just a few feet away from mat’s coach.

“barzy? what’s up?” patrick roy asked before his eyes landed on you.

mat pushed you forward a little more. “coach, this is twitch, she’s the goalie for the new york sirens.”

“you're literally my hero,” you blurted out. “you made me wanna be a goalie.”

to your relief, he smiled and stuck his hand out. “it’s nice to meet you, how’s the season looking so far for the sirens?”

“not too bad, we could definitely be doing better.”

“sounds familiar.” roy’s eyes cut to mat in a sarcastic way.

“well, you met him, we gotta go, though,” mat said, already leading you away from his coach. “don't wanna keep your parents waiting.”

roy’s eyes twinkled and his lips slid into a smirk, like he knew something you didn't. “it was nice to meet you, twitch.”

“you too!”

the hallway was mostly empty when you and mat exited the locker room. you glanced up at him and smiled. “oh my god thank you! i don't think anything will live up to this moment.”

he shrugged like he didn't just do the biggest favor for you. “don't worry about it.”

“do you think i could meet sorokin next time?”

mat guffawed and lightly shoved you. “don't get ahead of yourself, that would require you to come to another game.”

“deal.”

the two of you walked towards the parking lot mat parked in. “i’ll drive you home,” he said.

“you really don't have to come for dinner, i know you’re probably tired.”

he scoffed. “and miss out on the chance to get a home cooked meal and look at your baby pictures? never.”

“you're not gonna see my baby pictures.”

“i'm sure your mom would pull them out if i asked nicely.”

you shook your head. “nope. nope. nope. invitation rescinded. you can't come over.”

“not your house, you can’t rescind an invitation you didn't give.”

you groaned. “this isn’t fair, it’s not like i can go to your childhood home and look at baby mat pictures.”

he shrugged and opened the passenger door of his car for you. “you can always visit during the summer.”

you thought about it. “summer in vancouver doesn't sound bad...”

he smiled and shut the door behind you before walking around the front of the car to get in the driver’s seat. “just let me know, i’m sure my mom would be happy to have you. she’s always happy to host my friends.” he pulled his phone out. “can you put your parents’s address in?”

you typed in their address and handed the phone back to him while you picked at the dirt under your nails. mat pulled out onto the turnpike and down a few side streets until you were pulling up to the house.

“i’m sorry your date didn't work out.”

mat turned towards you. “huh?”

“your date,” you explained. “with lauren.”

“oh,” he said. “it’s fine. tonight made up for it.”

it took your mom no time at all to sell you down the river (read: pull out the photo albums). as soon as dinner was over, mat asked, and your mom immediately went and grabbed the albums without hesitating.

mat was all too giddy to see your photos, he was nearly bouncing in his seat when your mom came down the stairs, armed with blackmail material.

“this was when she was six months old,” your mom started, pointing at different photos. when mat cackled and smirked at you, you knew he'd found the bathtub pictures.

a few pages later and mat’s eyes went wide as saucers as he looked in your direction. “why’re you dressed as an amish woman?” he cackled.

your dad smiled. “she went through an amish hyperfixation after we went to pennsylvania and saw an amish family riding in a horse and buggy.”

mat pulled out his phone and snapped a few photos, snickering to himself all the while. “this is so cute,” he said, pointing at a photo he wouldn't let you see.

your dad continued. “she even asked us to have candlelight dinner for her birthday because the amish don’t have electricity.”

mat couldn't stop laughing.

you shrugged, not even the slightest bit embarrassed. everyone had their weird fixations, yours happened to be the amish. “i tried wearing the dress with my goalie gear and cried when i couldn't,” you said.

mat continued to scrutinize the photos, flipping pages as he smiled. “you were so cute.”

for some odd reason, heat flooded your cheeks. but you brushed it off as a side effect of the glass of wine you had with dinner.

it was nearing 1am when mat finally said goodbye. you walked him out, not noticing the smug look on your parents’ faces.

“thank you for letting me crash your dinner tonight,” mat said, leaning against his car. “it was nice. your parents are great.”

you shook your head and smiled. “thanks for the tickets and the passes. the game was really fun, and i know mom and dad appreciated it.”

a cold wind blew that made a shiver run down your spine. mat took a step closer, then a step back, like he thought better of it.

“when’s your next date?” mat asked.

“not sure,” you said, scuffing the ground with your shoe. “haven't found anyone yet. you?”

he shook his head. “trying to focus on getting to the playoffs, can’t afford any distractions.”

you nodded emphatically. though his playoff run started before yours did, the urgency was still the same.

“let me know if you wanna come to another game,” he said.

before you could stop yourself, you were already shaking your head. “mat you don't have to—”

he held up a hand to quiet you. “you can make it up to me by giving me tickets to see you play.”

you smiled and couldn't stop. even as he got in his car and drove out of sight, you wore that smile inside, missing the knowing looks from your parents.

“he’s nice,” your mom said, a strange tone in her voice that you paid no mind to.

“he’s pretty great.”

mat’s girl two: grace

when mat texted you that he had gone on a date with a girl named grace and was planning another one with the same girl, a strange sinking sensation happened in your stomach. you weren't overly familiar with the feeling. you just assumed it was because you hadn't eaten much.

when he facetimed you a few minutes later, you were shoving a handful of spinach and cheese in your mouth.

“what the fuck are you doing?” he asked. his cackle echoed through your kitchen

“it’s dino time,” you said through a mouthful of spinach.

mat blinked. “‘dino time?’ as in dinosaur?”

“what else would it be for?” you scoffed. “c'mon mat, i know you grew up in canada, but you should've learned this in kindergarten.”

“okay sure, but why?”

“why what?”

“why are you eating a handful of lettuce?”

“...it’s spinach.”

mat dragged a hand down his face and sighed. “okay so it’s spinach. why are you eating a handful of spinach?”

“i saw a girl on tiktok doing it.”

“huh. and you do whatever people on tiktok do?”

you rolled your eyes. “oh get off your high horse, mat. i’m only doing it to get more veggies in. it’s not like i’m snorting cocaine because i saw the wolf of wall street.” only after you shoved more spinach in your mouth, did you ask another question. “why did you call anyway?”

“i was wondering if you'd be able to get two tickets to your game tomorrow.”

“who’s going?” you asked with your mouth still full of leafy greens. “you and bo? duclair? lee?”

mat rubbed the back of his neck. “i was actually planning on taking grace, if that’s okay.”

“oh,” you said, swallowing your spinach. there was that strange sensation in your stomach again. it was odd though, because you were eating, so the feeling should’ve been gone by now, right?

right?

“yeah,” you nodded. “yeah i can get some. i can also see if i can get passes so you can come down to the locker rooms after the game.”

he smiled brightly. “you’re the best, twitch. i’ll talk to you later?”

“mhm.”

he ended the call shortly thereafter, leaving you with your bag of spinach and a quiet room.

he planned on taking grace to your game.

suddenly the greens didn't taste as good anymore. but you had no idea why.

“you’re jealous,” jess deadpanned in the locker room a few days later.

you scoffed. “i’m not jealous. i’ve just been feeling weird.”

“and that all happened to coincide with when mat got a girlfriend?”

“one date hardly makes her his girlfriend.”

jessie eyed you, but you kept taping your stick as if you didn't see her in your periphery.

there was no way she was right. you still texted the tickets to mat. but instead of meeting him outside like he did for his game, you sent one of the attendants out to give him the passes. your reasoning was simple: you weren't feeling well for some reason, and the idea of seeing grace in his passenger seat only made your stomach twist more.

“listen, all i’m saying is you might have a little crush. it doesn’t have to be devastating.”

devastating? devastating?

devastating was losing 4 to 5 to toronto. devastating was smiling through the irritation and disappointment when emma maltais skated over after celebrating with her team.

devastating was not looking over at mat and who you assumed was grace standing at the glass, close enough that you wanted to vomit.

you were only halfway listening to your coach’s lecture after the game, knowing damn well it would lead to bag skating tomorrow. the idea of even touching the ice made you want to slam your head against the wall until you forgot about the game you just played.

when you showered, you originally just stood there, letting the water drown you briefly before you actually washed your hair and body. there was no shot you were drying your hair, you were willing to risk getting a cold if it meant leaving that godforsaken arena as soon as possible. so you slapped a sirens beanie on top of your wet hair and walked out of the locker room.

only to be met with mat and grace standing outside.

fuck.

you'd forgotten about the family passes after three periods of shitty goaltending. the last thing you wanted to do was see mat after your performance that night. the only thing that could top it was meeting grace.

of course she was lovely, smiling at you and offering her hand when mat introduced her. you weren't an asshole, so you shook her hand and did your best to smile even though you wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep off the loss.

however, you did your best to look as interested in the conversation, you pretended to be genuine when grace said you did a great job, that she had fun at the game. all her words should've lifted your spirits, but you didn't know her from a can of paint and you weren't up for conversation. maybe after the next game (that you'd hopefully win) you'd be more up for talking.

“hey,” mat nudged his foot with yours. “it’s not your fault.”

you rolled your eyes, even though they started stinging. “i should've blocked that last goal.”

“and your team should've scored or kept the puck away from you,” he said matter of factly. “the puck has to get through three forwards and two defensemen before it gets to you.”

“but if i—”

mat shook his head and placed his hands on your shoulders, his thumbs rubbing the bones there. “you're gonna keep yourself up all night overthinking this.” he leaned his head down to look you in the eyes. “it’s not your fault, you've gotta let it go.”

you scoffed. “i can’t just ‘let it go—’”

“you can, and you will if you wanna prevent yourself from making the same mistakes.”

you nodded. “thanks mat,” you mumbled, standing there in the moment until you remembered grace was right there. “it was nice to meet you, grace,” you said, doing your best to smile at her without it looking like a grimace. “maybe next time, we’ll win and i’ll be in a better mood.”

she smiled so bright that it nearly blinded you. “no worries, i look forward to your next game.”

“i’ll see you later, mat,” you said. with your goalie bag on your shoulder, your tired legs started to carry you down the hall towards the parking lot, but a hand reached out and slipped the bag off your shoulder.

“i’ll walk you to your car.”

“but grace—”

“she can come with, right, grace? we’ll drop twitch off and then i’ll drive you home?”

you and mat glanced at her, she seemed frozen in her spot, but she slipped a smile on her face with minimal faltering. “that’s fine,” she said.

mat carried your bag all the way to your car and tossed it in the trunk without breaking a sweat. when he closed the trunk door, he shoved his hands in his pockets. “text me when you get home,” he said.

“you're the one with the hour long drive, mat. you should text me when you get home.”

he laughed and tugged on the ends of your hair. “will do. let me know what your schedule looks like this week!”

you nodded as he walked away and watched as he took grace’s hand. your stomach lurched again, but you wrote it off as a side effect of losing that night.

but the sight of mat and grace reminded you of the bet you'd made at the olympics.

you still had some falling in love to do.

guy three: peter

when you were in high school, you watched a movie called serendipity and fell in love with love. the idea that the right person could be in front of you the whole time made your sixteen year old heart beat like wild.

so when you ran into your ex, peter, at a coffee shop in manhattan, you knew it was your moment.

he was the one.

he had to be.

god and to think you two broke up in college and somehow found your ways back to each other? it had to be a sign.

“it’s not a sign, it’s a coincidence,” emma said over facetime.

you rolled your eyes. “how else would you explain him being in manhattan now? i met him when we were at osu.”

“just because you exchanged numbers again doesn't mean you should date him.”

“we ran into him in the most densely populated city in america, emma. i don't think that’s by chance.” you inhaled. “besides, i think he’s changed. i know i have. maybe it was the right person at the wrong time.”

emma blinked like she didn't believe you. “what does mat think?” she asked.

that was an odd question.

“what do you mean? why would he care?”

she shrugged. “i just thought you two were talking to each other about your dates. thought he might have an opinion on the matter.”

“eh, haven’t spoken to him much.” and truthfully you hadn't. between practicing, games, and dates with peter, you two hadn’t spoken in about a week and a half. which, for anyone else, wasn't that deep, but for you and mat, it was a little strange.

“maybe you should fix that,” emma said.

almost like he knew you were talking about him, mat texted.

mat barzal: would you be up for a double date? you, me, grace, and pete?

that sounded like a comically bad idea.

you said yes anyway.

peter chose the restaurant after mat suggested meeting in manhattan, a suggestion he probably made with you in mind. it was a bit fancier than you would've liked. you were fully expecting on finding a little mom and pop hole in the wall with some indoor seating and calling it a day, but you should've known peter was more refined than that.

you were in a black dress with his jacket draped over your shoulders when you walked in the restaurant. mat had texted you earlier to let you know he and grace were already seated.

peter’s hand was on the small of your back as he led you back to the table. he plastered a polite smile on his face and whispered in your ear. “why did you agree to this?”

you shrugged. “thought it would be fun.” you glanced back with a smile on your face. “i think you'll really like mat, he's cool. and grace is nice too.” though, admittedly, you didn't know as much about her as you did mat. after all, he was the one you quieted the anxieties you were feeling about this date entirely.

“it’ll be great!” mat said as the two of you walked around a park. “you and i already get along,” he passed back your now peeled orange. you immediately shove three pieces in your mouth. “it would only make sense that our partners would also get along.”

not even peter’s cynicism could put a damper on your mood.

mat and grace stood as the two of you approached. mat hugged you first, then shook peter’s hand. you and grace waved at each other before you took your seats. mat pulled grace’s seat out before he sat down, peter was seated before you could even blink.

you shrugged it off, pulling out a chair wasn't that big of a deal. but you saw mat’s lips pull down in a frown before it was gone entirely.

“what’s good here?” mat asked. “i've never been.”

you glanced at the menu, your mouth started watering already. “the lobster ravioli looks good,” you noted. “god my stomach is growling already.”

peter made a noise in the back of his throat. “have you looked at the salads?”

you froze. in the corner of your eye, you saw mat’s head snap up from where he sat diagonally from you. “why would i look at the salads?” you asked. “i want pasta.”

peter shrugged. “just think the salad would be healthier.”

“so you can get a salad. i want pasta.”

“if i’m paying, i think you should get—”

“it's on me tonight,” mat interrupted. his eyes met yours. “get what you want, twitch.”

you closed your eyes and sighed when you felt peter tense up next to you at the mention of your college nickname. in your head, you said a little prayer that he would drop it, or at least wait until the two of you were alone to address it.

grace cleared her throat and smiled at you. “has your season gotten any better?” she asked.

grateful for the sudden change in topic, you smiled back. “it has, i feel much better now. sorry that you caught me on a bad night.”

“it wasn't that bad, twitch,” mat said. “it was an off night for everyone. you did the best you could.”

you shot him a grateful smile right as peter cleared his throat. “how’s your season going, mat? i’ve been trying to keep up but you play so many games and so does this one,” he nudges you. “it’s hard to keep track.”

mat shrugged. “we have to get better at putting pucks in the net, that’s for sure.”

“don't let his modesty fool you, peter,” you started. “mat’s on an eight game point streak right now. he’s killing it.” mat looked up and smiled at you. on reflex you smiled back at him until peter cleared his throat.

peter blinked, then gave mat a smirk. “must be cool playing for the rangers,” he said. “has to be the greatest team in new york.”

your brows furrowed right as mat’s jaw clenched. you'd told peter about mat, how he was a forward for the islanders, and was a strict rangers hater. so it was a mystery how he confused mat for a rangers player at all.

“i don't play for the rangers,” mat replied coolly.

“my mistake,” peter shrugged before taking a sip of water. “i assumed your team was the winning team.”

your eyes widened and you nudged peter in the arm. “can you chill please?” you mumbled.

grace, sensing the tension, turned the conversation back towards you. “mat told me you grew up on long island, is that true?”

you nodded and smiled widely, grateful for the topic change. “yes! right down the street from ubs. my parents and i walked to the arena to see mat play not too long ago.”

“it’s like a five minute drive,” mat chimed in.

grace nodded, then froze. “how do you know that?”

he shrugged. “we ate dinner at her parents’ after the game.”

you could cut the tension with a knife. based on grace’s thinned out lips, she wasn't necessarily enthused about the idea of mat eating with you and your parents. granted, you didn't think anything of it, but maybe it was cause for concern for her.

thankfully, the server came over and took your orders. you told the server you wanted lobster ravioli before peter could order for you and sipped your water as he rolled his eyes.

when the food came out, you were too busy eating to notice the looks mat and peter were sending each other or the way grace kept glancing back and forth from you to mat. the lobster ravioli was just too good to focus on anything else.

when the time for the check came, peter scowled when mat paid for it, but said nothing. your mood soured the longer peter was grumpy. by the end of the date, you were rushing him out the door, but not without waving goodbye at grace and hugging mat.

peter didn't say anything until you got into his car. “i didn't know mat had met your parents.”

you blinked. “i didn't think it was worth mentioning. do you want me to tell you that jess and ella met my parents on draft day?”

“that’s not the point and you know it,” he scowled. “and why is he calling you twitch?”

you shrugged. “because it’s what everyone calls me. he heard it from emma and jessie and it’s stuck since then. why is it a problem?”

he huffed. “i never said it was a problem.”

“you're acting like it is.”

“that’s because you're too old to be going by a college nickname. when you meet my coworkers, can you just give them your real name?” he asked.

there was a sinking sensation in your stomach that you hadn't felt since you were twenty. “sure,” you tried to smile. “if it’ll make you happy.”

two days later, you were drying your hair after a 2-1 loss against montreal. peter had texted you earlier that week asking for days you were available to hang out with him and his friends.

truthfully, you didn't want to, especially after losing. but peter was so sweet last night. he brought you flowers, though you weren't really a fan of daisies, a bottle of his favorite wine, and pizza from a place down the street from your apartment. he let you pick the movie out and said you were beautiful.

you were willing to endure a night with his finance bro friends because he sacrificed his free time last night to see you.

you put your walk in outfit back on and sighed when you looked in the mirror. the last thing you wanted to do was go to a bar where you only knew your boyfriend.

but love was about sacrifice, right?

you drove home and ordered an uber to the bar in manhattan. when you finally arrived, it took you a second to realize where your boyfriend was.

he was propped against the wall while one of his friends was shooting pool. peter kept talking and didn't notice you walk up until you were right next to him.

“oh hey!” he kissed your cheek, which made you grin just a little. he was so sweet and you loved the affection. “how was your game?”

your smile faltered. “you didn't watch it?”

a light bulb went off in his mind. “oh, i mean, they had the islanders game going on, so i didn't get a chance to see it. i’m sorry, babe. i would’ve if i could’ve.”

you nodded, not wanting to fight in public. because your game ended over an hour ago, and peter, according to your texts, had only been at the bar for forty-five minutes.

he seemed to take your silence as a sign that you were okay and ushered you forward towards his friends. “guys, this is my girlfriend,” he said before looking at you, expecting you to introduce yourself.

you waved and said your name. peter’s friends nodded back at you and got back to their game. peter was cheering as one of his friends, whose name you didn't know, shot a ball in the hole.

“peter,” you said over the loud music. “peter!”

he finally glanced at you, eyebrows raising like he just remembered you were there. “yeah?”

“i’m going to get a drink,” you said.

he nodded before turning back to the game.

your heart sunk as you walked to the bar, dodging bodies like your teammates did on their way to the net. in your backpocket, you could feel your phone vibrate. you reached back and pulled it out, smiling when you saw a text on your screen.

mat barzal: do you feel as shitty as i do?

you pulled up the nhl app and saw the score. a 4-5 loss against the rangers.

stupid fucking rangers.

you: i feel like absolute dog shit. like the kind i would have to pick up when i took benny on walks.

mat barzal: who’s benny?

you: my childhood dog, sweet as can be, but took massive dumps on every walk.

mat barzal: what’re you doing now?

you: at a bar with peter and his friends.

mat barzal: ...that’s fun?

you laughed at his message.

you: if only, but i’m hopeful it’ll get better.

mat barzal: where are you right now?

you dropped him a pin.

you: why?

mat barzal: i’m like five minutes away, would it be weird if i joined you?

probably yes, given how mat and peter’s last interaction went, but you glanced back at your boyfriend who was laughing with his buddies. he didn't notice you'd been gone for almost ten minutes now.

so maybe you were feeling petty, but you didn't care at that point. maybe you'd pay for it later, but the price of not feeling alone in a dive bar was worth any tension that would inevitably come.

you: it wouldn't be weird! i’d actually appreciate some company right now.

mat barzal: bet.

you were alone for another seven minutes before you saw a mop of dark brown hair walk through the doors. you watched as his eyes searched the room until they landed on you. it was like someone flipped a switch, the way his face immediately lit up at the sight of you. the very sight made your stomach twist in a way that had you buzzing in your seat.

mat shoved his way through the crowd of people before he flagged down a bartender and took the seat next to you.

“hey,” he huffed, out of breath.

you laughed. “did you run here?”

he shrugged, even as his cheeks turned pink. “maybe. that’s not the point. what’re you drinking?”

you held up your half empty cup. “moscow mule.”

“you want another?”

you let mat buy you another drink. you let him pay for it. you let him ask you about how the game was and in turn, you asked how his went. you let him tell you about bo’s kids as well as matt’s, how the bet was going, how grace was doing.

he seemed ambivalent to that last conversation topic, the spark in his eyes when he talked about his teammates died quickly.

“i don't know,” he said, tracing the bar top with his pointer finger. “things are good.”

“but?” you asked.

“but i thought falling in love would be different.”

your heart lurched in your chest, your stomach twisted like you were about to vomit. there was no reason for it though, maybe it was the alcohol?

“you're in love with her?” you managed to get out.

he shook his head, and the pressure building in your chest lessened. “no, but maybe i should be.”

mat’s eyes looked past you, when you turned around, you saw he was staring at peter and his friends. “do you love him?” he asked quietly, just loud enough for you and only to hear.

the truth was, you used to when you were in college. you thought he hung the sky, the moon, and the stars. you thought he put the earth into motion. he was your sun. but now things were different, he was different, you were different. it was like a piece of a puzzle that almost fit but not completely, like you were forcing it into a spot and saying it was close enough.

“i don't know,” was the answer you settled for. “maybe in time, i will again.”

mat let out a breath. “but you don't right now?”

“not yet.”

he nodded.

a beat later, an arm slid around your waist that had you tensing until you heard his voice. “hey sweetheart, you'd been gone for a moment, i got concerned.” you could hear the tension in peter’s voice as he spoke to you. if you were a betting woman, you'd gamble your bottom dollar on mat being the reason for it.

“pete, hey,” mat said with a wave.

“it’s peter,” your boyfriend said. “hope you’re not feeling the sting of a loss too bad, mat.”

you whipped your head around to look at peter, confusion written all over your face. “you watched the game?”

peter shrugged like he barely heard you. he wasn't looking at you anyway, his gaze was locked on mat. “we pregamed before coming here.”

“you watched the rangers play but couldn't watch my game?”

but he didn't even acknowledge what you said. “it was nice seeing you mat, but me and my girlfriend are going to go play pool. have a good night.” peter steered you away from the bar and back towards the pool tables.

it was like someone was draining the life out of you like one would tap a tree for sap.

“i think i’m gonna go home,” you said, pulling away from peter. “i’m really tired and i have practice tomorrow.”

peter’s brows pulled together, he frowned. “but you just got here. i barely got to see you.”

“that’s because you were playing pool with your friends. i’ve been here for over half an hour, peter. i lost tonight and i just wanna go home and lay on the couch and watch trashy reality tv.”

“fine,” he huffed. “i’ll see you later.”

you went on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his lips, but at the last minute he turned his head away so your lips met his cheek instead. you stepped back, a little hurt before you spun on your heels and headed for the exit.

“you're leaving?” you glanced over your shoulder and saw mat shoving past people to get to you.

“yeah,” you said. “i’m tired and wanna get in bed.”

“have you ordered an uber yet?”

you shook your head.

“let me ride home with you, i don't want you going home alone.” you were already shaking your head, telling him to catch uber back to long island, but he held a hand up. “it’s late and i don’t want to have to tell your mom that i let you catch an uber back to your apartment without making sure you got there safely.”

you held up your phone. “i can give you my location.”

“not good enough. i need to see you walk into your apartment building.”

“seriously, mat, i’d feel bad that you're adding more time to your commute.”

he shrugged like it was no big deal. “don't think of it like that, just think of it as me wanting to spend more time with you.”

the ride back to newark was short, but you felt bad knowing that mat had an hour trip back home because of you. but he shrugged your worries off and said he'd text you when you got home.

that night, after your second shower, after crawling into bed to watch the bachelor, you went to sleep smiling.

your mood over the next two days fluctuated, with you rarely hearing from peter. if you got any response, it was strictly five words max per text message. and each message took him at least thirty minutes to reply.

safe to say, when you arrived at prudential for another game, you were ready to devour the red starbursts you saved in your goalie bag.

except the bag was empty.

and really it shouldn't have been that big of a deal, but you'd been eating red starbursts before every game since you were six and your mom stopped caring about red dye 40. your shaking hands reached for your phone and hit peter’s contact.

the phone rang and rang and rang and rang only to go straight to voicemail.

so you called again.

same thing.

so you called again.

same thing.

you called one more time and it went straight to voicemail.

peter: can you chill? i’m busy.

you: i need red starbursts. do you think you could bring me some?

radio silence.

so you waited five, ten minutes. and not a single reply.

you: peter? will you?

peter: i’m busy. why don’t you get that?

tears welled up in your eyes. you were starting tonight, you couldn't afford to not have the candy. what if you lost because you didn't have them? would the whole team blame you? you know you would.

you walked into the hallway and scrolled through your contacts. you hit the contact of the person you were searching for.

two rings.

“hello?”

“mat,” you sniffled, trying to keep the crying to a minimum, thankful you'd gotten there early enough, no one else was in the locker room. and no one was in the hall.

“hey, you okay? are you crying?”

“can you do me a huge favor?” you asked.

“anything.”

“can you bring me red starbursts? i tried asking peter but he’s busy and my parents are at work still and—”

“i got you, don't worry. where do you want me to meet you?”

a sob escaped your lips as relief crashed over you. “thank you thank you thank you, mat. just call me when you get here, and i’ll meet you.”

he was there in forty-five minutes with a ziploc bag stuffed full with your favorite candy.

you about tackled him in the hallway. “how did you get down here?” you asked, bouncing on your feet as he handed the bag over.

“apparently my face is familiar,” he joked. “when i told one of the social media interns i was here for you, she led me down here.”

without even thinking about it, you wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him in for the tightest hug possible. “i owe you one. seriously.”

when you pulled back, his cheeks were a light pink, something you could've read into had jess and ella not come bounding down the hallway.

“twitch! who is this?” they asked, wide smiles on their faces.

“no,” you mumbled. “mat, run.”

you tried pushing him away, but he turned around and smiled at your teammates. “i’m mat,” he said.

jess’ lips formed a smirk. “i’m jess, the best friend.”

“ella, the other friend.”

“are you staying for the game?” jessie asked, mirth rolling around in her irises.

“he can’t he's busy—”

“sure,” mat smiled. “i’d love to.” he turned back to you. “are your parents coming?”

you nodded, a little sheepishly. “they have my tickets—”

“you can have mine!” jess cut in. “they should be next to yours anyway.”

“you really don't have to come, mat—”

but he shrugged. “i’d love to. do you think your mom would cook again tonight?”

“i’m sure if you asked, she’d make a five course meal just for you.”

you missed the looks passed back and forth between jess and ella, only focused on the way mat’s lips curled up into a smile. “then i’ll see you out there, twitch.”

as he walked away, jess and ella smirked at you, waiting until he was fully out of sight (and earshot) to shriek at you.

“he’s eaten dinner with your parents?!”

“shut up,” you groaned, walking back into the locker room. “it’s not that deep.”

“girl, what was he even doing here?”

you held up the bag of starbursts. “i ran out.”

jess paused. “...and he brought you some?” she reached for the bag, testing its weight in the palm of her hands. “girl, this is like several packs worth of starbursts.”

you shrugged it off, like it was no big deal. “he was being nice.”

but when you skated out for warm ups and saw him sitting next to your parents, you could see the blue of the sirens jersey he was wearing, you could see your number 26 on his sleeves. he was leaning down to listen to what your mom was saying when you skated past their seats.

your parents were sporting a homemade t-shirt of you in goalie gear at the ripe age of six, if you had to guess. on any other day, you wouldn't have felt the heat flooding your cheeks, but something about mat standing next to your parents wearing those shirts felt a little too intimate. it felt like something peter wouldn't be happy about if he found out.

the same peter who brushed you off, you reminded yourself.

suddenly, you cared a little less.

you skated to the crease and started scuffing it up before prepping for the rest of the warm ups.

by the time the game ended, you were exhausted. it ended in a win, something you were grateful for. ottawa put up a good fight, but you felt every one of those twenty-three shots on goal in your bones. you were so tired, you didn't even bother checking your phone, you just shoved it in your back pocket and walked outside of the locker room.

what you saw in the hallway had to be some sort of nightmare. standing with your parents was mat, jess, and ella all of whom were pointing at the homemade shirts they wore.

you immediately started walking towards them.

“you have to make me a shirt next time,” mat quipped.

““no—” you cut in.

“of course, mat! if you come over afterwards, you can pick which picture you want on your shirt!” your mom crooned.

your eyes widened. “mom no—”

but mat was already smirking and cutting you off. “i have just the picture in mind.”

jess’ eyes brightened, like a lightbulb went off above her head. “is it the amish picture?”

he shook his head and smiled. “nah, i got a better one.” when ella and jess opened their mouths to ask, he shook his head again. “and it’s a secret. you'll all find out one day.”

you laughed while your teammates rolled their eyes. it wasn't long before they were saying their goodbyes and walking out while you, your parents, and mat just stood around.

“you know, mat,” your dad started. “the offer still stands if you want to come over for a drink.”

mat’s eyes met yours. a silent are you going? passing between the two of you.

you thought about how you should probably go home, how you'd be better just going to your apartment instead of driving an hour to your parents’ house.

but your parents made cute shirts and sat in the arena cheering you on like they had been doing for years.

“your call, barzy. but be warned, we will probably play spades. so if you're game—”

“i’m down,” he smiled.

which is how you ended up throwing cards at mat because your parents set the two of you in the card game.

“what the fuck mat!” you yelled, but it was drowned out by your parents cackling and mat groaning.

“language!” your mom chided.

mat threw his hands up at your accusation. “i've never played this before! your parents have been playing together for years!”

“not an excuse!”

“oh c'mon, squirt, don't be such a sore loser, it’s mat’s first time playing.”

you huffed and sat back in your chair, crossing your arms. “i don't remember being this bad,” you said.

“you were a concussed fifteen year old, i doubt you remembered much from that time,” your dad quipped as he shuffled the deck of cards.

mat choked on a laugh that he quickly stifled when he saw your glare. you opened your mouth to retort when your phone started vibrating in your back pocket.

peter.

you sighed and held your phone up. “i've gotta take this, i’ll be back.” you pointed at mat. “make sure they don't cheat.”

mat held his hands up. “i wouldn't even know how they could cheat at shuffling cards, but okay.”

you stepped into the living room, just far enough for a little privacy, but close enough to monitor what was being said by your parents. “hello?”

“where are you?” peter asked immediately. “i tried ringing your doorbell but you haven't buzzed me in. i’m freezing my ass off, here.”

“huh?” you asked, wondering if you heard him wrong.

“i’m outside your apartment,” he sighed.

“wait,” you said. “why?”

a moment of silence and then a deeper sigh. “to apologize. i feel like you were angry with me earlier. so i wanted to make things better.”

you blinked. “so you're at my apartment?”

“with daisies, your favorite. so, are you going to stop ignoring me and let me in? it’s way too fucking cold for this, baby.”

you grimaced at the idea of telling him the truth. “i would peter, but i’m not in jersey right now. i’m in elmont, with my parents and—”

mat’s loud ass laugh cut you off.

the silence on the phone was deafening.

“is mat there? was that him?” peter’s voice was cold in a way you hadn't heard before.

“yeah,” you said, not seeing an issue with it. “he's here. we’re playing spades.”

a long pause. “why?”

“why what?”

“why are you at your parents’ house with another guy? can you tell me how that makes sense?”

you pinched the bridge of your nose and moved upstairs to your bedroom so your parents and mat couldn't hear. “we’re just playing a card game—”

“why is he there?”

“because he came to my game,” you said.

“why was he at your game?”

“because he didn't hang up on me when i asked for red starbursts, peter.”

“oh my god,” he groaned. “i was in a meeting! you seriously can't be mad at me for not getting stupid candy for you this one time.”

“well, you asked why he was here and i told you. he brought me red starbursts, jess gave him one of her tickets, and my parents invited him over for dinner.”

“why?”

he couldn't be serious.

“because they're my parents, and they've never met a friend of mine that they didn't like. which you would know if you'd had more than three conversations with them.”

“oh don't turn this around on me, sweetheart. you’re the one with a guy at your parents’ house right now.”

“you know what?” you started. “i’m not even gonna entertain this bullshit. why did you stop by my place again?”

“to apologize!”

“for what?”

“i don't know,” he admitted. “i could tell you were mad and probably blamed me so i came to apologize for whatever i did to piss you off.” you could practically feel the sarcasm in his voice seeping through the phone.

“okay peter,” you said. “i’m going to hang up now because you're being an ass and if we continue this phone call any longer, you're going to be single. i’ll talk to you when i’m back in jersey.”

before he could say another word, you hung up and took a deep breath to steel your nerves. you took a moment to pull yourself together as you headed down the stairs and back into the dining room.

“everything okay, squirt?” your dad asked.

you nodded and did your best to smile. “just peachy.” you walked back to your seat and pointed at mat. “don't fuck this up for me, okay?” you said. “i have a lot of pride riding on this game.”

“language,” your mom scolded.

but mat smiled anyway and slapped your hand out of the air. “wouldn't dream of it.”

mat left around 2am and you were asleep in your childhood room by 2:15.

#mathew barzal imagine #mat barzal #mathew barzal #mat barzal blurb #mat barzal x reader #mat barzal imagine #nhl blurb #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

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the-maid-of-witchwood · 2 days ago

Note

Finally, I dare you to gimme your Grace headcanons (gotta round out the trio)

Yes!

First of all a quick apology - sorry, Grace, we should have done you first as the eldest.

Full name is Grace Marian Chasity and I will die on this hill

She was born in Scotland

(Extended family is British)

They visit once a year over Thanksgiving break because the Chasities don’t celebrate non-religious holidays

Her first eight words were all colours, starting with purple because her mother wears it a lot, until she met baby Steph and picked up “Effanie”

Was a very quiet and non-fussy baby so her parents took her to church real early

Lucy also took her birdwatching at this age because nobody else would go with her - it’s also where Grace gets her passion for birds (nighthawks) welfare from

Was really late learning to walk

Learnt to walk because her father dropped a book on the floor once and she instinctively went to put it on the shelf. Mark got into the habit of just throwing books (lightly) across the room to have Grace fetch them

There’s so many home videos of her stopping what she was doing, retrieving the books and telling her dad off for making a mess, sending him to prayer to apologise to God

Grace and Richie have been kinda friends since elementary

She was shorter than Ruth for first grade and then kinda grew a little taller in second grade

As a child, she had a pet hamster called Prudence

She plays the flute and is in the school orchestra, there’s only two flutes (the other is PJ)

Loves history, especially stuff on royalty

Her favourite historical period is the renaissance

Reads a lot of historical non-fiction

Ruth eventually gets her into Six the Musical and then got really concerned after Grace casually described Samantha Pauly’s version of All You Wanna Do as relatable

This only becomes more worrying when Grace offhandedly mentions relating to Becky because of Stanley

(Both Max and Gabe are really creepy and weird with her, we need to acknowledge it more)

She is a huge Shakespeare nerd, like will give Angela a run for her money

Trevor is meant to be a Hall Monitor with her but he chickens out of actually telling anyone off, so Grace has to pick up his slack

Grace is part of her church’s Nativity every year, she’s always an angel. Not Gabriel, Gabe always gets that part, just a random angel. Rose always got Mary, when she was still there

Her memory is really good, she remembers the smallest of things

Takes pride in being one of the eldest in the class and has always used that to make up for her lack of height

She helps out in the school shows as line prompt and is definitely humming along in the wings

Caitlyn has a bit of a crush on her and lowkey jealous of other people getting close to her

Literally the only person who likes Harmony Jones (Greenpeace girl), definitely her first crush

After going to Beanie��s with the group, she may or may not have been caught blushing at Zoey too

She can draw fairly well, but only really likes doing landscape and buildings - her portfolio is just made up of churches and castles

She wants to learn how to dance but, beyond the Scottish country dancing she’s picked up at family weddings, she has no idea what she’s doing

Has never broken a bone and is disgusted by the thought

Doesn’t like the idea of being behind the wheel, so hasn’t learnt to drive. Had one unofficial lesson with Steph and freaked out

Gets travel sick very easily

Gets really heavy periods and painful cramps, has been to the doctor - there’s nothing wrong so they just suggested taking birth control to not have her periods which Grace and her parents refused

(And maybe she regrets it once a month)

PANSEXUAL

Somewhere on the aroace spectrum too but hasn’t worked it out yet

The eldest of the group and certified mom-friend

Will hold their hands when crossing the street

In spite of their links to witchcraft and Satanism, Grace really wants a pet cat

Yes, the eldest thing is mentioned multiple times; it’s what Grace would want.

I’ve already done all of Grace’s ship headcanons at this point (Lautity, Spankity/Bible Study and Lautskity), so just for fun…

Holystage, Bible Passion, Halohat or whatever else we can come up with (Caitlyn x Grace):

Definitely were set up by Trevor with some help from Ruth

(Not fully though because Ruth hates Caitlyn)

Caitlyn is the only other child in Grace’s neighbourhood

Caitlyn blows her kisses from the stage

Caitlyn encourages Grace to try on her costumes and they have a lot of photos of them messing around in the dressing room (featuring Josephine + the boys when they sneak in)

Their friend groups kinda mostly hate each other (playfully) but put up with each other for their sake

Grace always buys Caitlyn red roses (Cait’s favourite flower) for her shows, including dress rehearsals

Caitlyn returns the favour by showing up with flowers (Grace doesn’t have a particular favourite, but it’s usually carnations) after Grace’s orchestral performances

They make music together

Caitlyn can play a shit ton of instruments, but is currently teaching Grace how to play the piano

Grace runs lines with Caitlyn and, in spite of her limited knowledge in acting being Shakespeare, helps her improve her performance

Miss Mulberry loves them

Grace also brings baked goods for Caitlyn to share with her costars and crew in rehearsals

The cottagecore girlfriends of all time

Grace has a type and it’s just Mariah.

#mari’s asks #mari’s headcanons #grace chasity

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ayukas · 16 hours ago

Text

part one

brother's best friend!haechan who can't seem to wait any longer—not when your almost-confession lingers in the back of his mind like a song stuck on repeat. he remembers the way your fingers were stained with melted chocolate that day, how your voice trembled like you were about to say something that could change everything. but you didn't. and he waited. but alas, patience was never his strong suit. so one afternoon, he marches into your favourite candy store, the one you've dragged him to since middle school, and asks the employee behind the counter how to make something from scratch. something sweet. something meaningful. he spends the whole day there, tongue between his teeth in concentration as he tries to mold soft sugar into the perfect shape. he messes up a few times, fingers sticky and uneven jelly hearts scattered all over the table. but he doesn't stop—not until he finally crafts one that feels just right.

brother's best friend!haechan who shamelessly lies to your brother after realising he forgot his wallet, facetiming and begging for money to pay for the handmade candy under the pretense of buying a new game. "it's co-op," he insists over the phone, eyes wide with fake innocence. "we can play it together, dude." your brother grumbles, suspicious but ultimately soft, mumbling something about how he better get first player privileges.

brother's best friend!haechan who texts you in all-caps to meet him at your usual cafe at 4pm, the same one you both used to wait at after school while your brother finished class, saying he has something extremely urgent to tell you. you expect another one of his silly ideas, maybe a new inside joke. but when you arrive, he's already there, sitting at your favourite table, fidgeting with his rings and tapping his foot under the table leg. there's a mug waiting for you, your usual, as well as a small box placed right in the center like it's holding his entire heart inside. when you sit, he doesn't speak right away, just watches you with that look he always gives you—the one that sees too much, that lingers too long. then, slowly, he pushes the box toward you with both hands, eyes darting nervously. you open it. see the candy. a tiny, misshapen heart. when you look up, he meets your gaze and says, "i'm in love with you."

boyfriend!haechan who suffers through hours of your brother's dramatic yelling after finding out, arms flailing, voice rising three octaves higher than usual. "you?! and—and you?!" your brother screeches for the third time. haechan's trying his best not to laugh, and you're trying not to bury your face in your hands. when your brother finally storms off, muttering about betrayal, haechan simply throws an arm around your shoulder and presses a kiss to the side of your head, grinning like it was all worth it.

boyfriend!haechan who holds your hand differently now, not cautiously, not half-hesitant like it used to be. but with certainty. with a sense of home. he laces your fingers together like he never plans to let go, swinging your joined hands between you as he hums a tune neither of you can name. even when it's hot and your palms are sweaty, even when your brother is glaring from two feet away, he doesn't ever want to let go. instead, he lifts your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles, eyes dancing with mischief and affection, daring the world to try and take you from him.

boyfriend!haechan who leaves sticky notes in your bag, your books, your hoodie pockets—little pieces of his heart tucked between your daily life. some are doodles, a wonky bear with hearts for eyes. others are confessions disguised as jokes, today's forecast: 99% chance i'll fall harder for you. when you confront him on the way home, he acts innocent, gasps dramatically, and insists it must be some kind of secret admirer. but the pink on his ears gives him away every single time.

boyfriend!haechan who can't seem to keep his hands off you, always needing to touch, even in the smallest, softest ways. he cups your face after a long day like it's a ritual, like it resets his energy. he threads his fingers through your hair with care, pulls you onto his lap when you're too sleepy to sit upright, lets you nap on his shoulder while playing with your hand, tracing the lines in your palm as if he's memorising every curve like it was written just for him. he kisses the corner of your smile like it's his favourite place in the world.

boyfriend!haechan who takes you stargazing on a warm night, lying side by side on the rooftop, your hands tangled between you. he talks about dreams and silly things—how he's always wanted to be a dancer, how he's still scared of heights. you laugh until the night settles into a soft hush, and then he turns toward you, eyes reflecting the moonlight, voice quieter than the breeze. "you're my first love, you know," he says. it's not at all dramatic, not a setup for a joke. just honest. "and if you'll have me… you'll be my last, too."

notes inspired by poppop! the employee in question is daehee bc i believe haechan would bully him into letting him in the kitchen orz also this was delayed for way too long im sorry plz come back to me brother's best friend hyuck yearners!!!!!

perm. taglist ♡ @renjunsversion @ddolbyong @f6llsun @egojo1st @sungbites @nonverdolly @strwberie @blondemrk @chenlezip @markkiatocafe @stqrgr7 @jisungji @taroddori @haeriaes @kukkurookkoo @polarisjisung @dudekiss3r @dejundesign @uncasings @sweetpinkblueberry @spacejip @yushiela @insbread @t-102 @haelvrty @pl4netx1a @haeivie @natakgae @fae-renjun

#haechan x reader #haechan fluff #haechan headcanons #nct x reader #nct dream x reader #nct 127 x reader #haechan imagines #nct imagines #nct dream imagines #nct 127 imagines #nct fluff #nct dream fluff #nct 127 fluff #haechan scenarios #nct scenarios #nct dream scenarios #nct 127 scenarios #nct dream headcanons #nct 127 headcanons

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r4fe-cam3ron · 1 day ago

Note

Ok, a request for something angsty with Eddie:

You're Eddie's best friend, you have a lot in common with him, you like the same things, you're a nerd metalhead girl, and you want to invite him to prom and confess what you feel for him, but he tells you that he already invited another girl (maybe a kind of popular girl?) who was his lab partner. You choose the ending 👀

an; hi okay hello thank you for this. you’re the best. but also …. are you in my mind. i live for these type of angsty, lovesick, teenage years. w; doesn’t follow st timeline.

you’d met eddie in middle school — a skinny boy who had a buzzcut. sort of weird, you’d watched him many, many times during lunch, his laugh all but crazy as he and his friends made…slop from the cafeteria food.

mashed potatoes turned into a marsh with chocolate milk poured on top, the chicken nuggets that tasted stale and told served as ‘dinosaurs’ and the broccoli was propped into the mashed potato marsh as trees.

again, eddie munson was anything but normal — he was strange, funny, and smart (when he was actually applying himself to his work). a true artist as well — his journal had been filled with monsters from a new game, Dungeons & Dragons is what you’d heard him called it.

you’d made a passing complement on it once. a nice, ‘that’s cool, eddie.’ that passing comment was soon the start of a growing friendship between two kids in seventh grade.

two kids who were growing awkwardly in their uncomfortable bodies, where the mind couldn’t comprehend things at times — like, where did that zit come from? or even why did you suddenly need to keep going to the bathroom after every class once a week every month?

he’d learned quickly why.

but growing together and staying close through high school, you both had begun to understand feelings and thoughts more.

you’d begun to understand why you’d get nervous every time you were alone with eddie, why your hands would get clammy and why your throat would get dry.

you wouldn’t say anything. not yet. maybe not ever.

but you did know one thing; you wanted to go to prom with your best friend. it was something you both had made fun of at the beginning of high school, something for popular kids who only used daddy’s money to get whatever they wanted.

then as you watched eddie grow into himself — a boy who had once a buzzcut had grown his hair out, surprisingly curly. he wasn’t as shy before, but any of the slight hesitation he’d hold before doing something questionable was never there anymore.

like yelling across the cafeteria. cutting class to smoke under the bleachers. selling in the woods behind the school.

eddie munson was different in your eyes.

you’re trying hard to find the courage to ask him to prom. there’s a pizza on the coffee table, a beer bottle in his hand while your bottle of cherry coke leaves behind a wet mark on the table from the small droplets of water that drip down slowly.

clearing your throat, you shift on the couch. eddie’s eyes drift away from the television to you instead, lifting a brow. “you alright over there?”

“hm?” you look at him. oh. he’s so pretty. “oh, yeah. i’m good. just…watching the movie.”

eddie stares at you for a moment longer, letting out a small huff as he places his beer to the side. “oh, i asked vanessa to prom.” he says suddenly.

like it was nothing.

you watch as he reaches for another slice of pizza, blinking, and suddenly he’s already leaning back into the worn cushions of the couch, taking a bite of the pizza.

pinching your brows together, you shake your head. “the…one on the cheerleading team?” the pretty one who was always kind to everyone. the thought has your heart sinking, the feeling of a knot already forming in your throat.

which is stupid of you to already cry over something so small.

“yeah,” he nods. wiping the grease from the corner of his mouth. “we’re lab partners in science. she’s…nice. pretty.” he smiles a bit.

“oh…i thought…” he looks over at you, tilting his head slightly. “well, i just thought we would’ve went together,” his brows lift slightly.

you’re quick to cover yourself. “i mean, we made a pact to go together when we started high school to make fun of everyone who went.”

scoffing out a laugh, he shakes his head. “that was freshman year,” he pushes at your arm. “besides, you wouldn’t want to actually go. even if you did, you wouldn’t want to go with me.”

staying silent, you stare at him, lips pulled into a slight frown. the bite he’s about to take is forgotten when he slowly glances over at you.

lowering his hand, he sits up a bit straighter. “you didn’t want to go, right?”

pursing your lip, your head turns as you shake it. standing from the couch, you reach to grab your coat and bag from the ground. “it’s getting late. i need to get home.”

your quick on your feet as you walk over to the door, shoving your feet into your shoes. the door opens with a creak as you yank it open, quickly walking down the rickety steps.

the porch door creaks and slams shut a minute later. “hey, wait! why are you— let me drive you home at least.”

“no. i want to ride my bike,” you’re struggling with the padlock, a wave of anger and confusion washing over you as you pull at it. “why won’t this thing…”

eddie watches you with a frown. he says your name softly, a hand wrapping around your wrist. “i’m going to drive you home. it too dark and late for you to be riding home by yourself.”

clenching your jaw, you nod once. “i’ll come back and get my bike later.” you pull away from him quickly, walking towards his van.

you’re confused on why you’re feeling so much. confused why something so mundane makes you upset. angry because your confused. angry because he’s acting as if it doesn’t matter.

you don’t spare him a glance when he gets inside the van. you turn towards the door, resting your head against the window.

you’re quick to unbuckle when you see your house, reaching for your bag.

“i didn’t think it meant that much to you,” he suddenly speaks, causing your fingers to grip around the door handle. “the pact, i mean. if i would’ve known i would—”

“it doesn’t matter, eddie,” you shake your head. “it’s something stupid to get upset over anyway.”

“but it’s not. if it’s something that bothers you that much.”

letting out a small scoff with a laugh mingled in between, you shake your head. “that’s not even the reason i’m upset. i thought you and i would’ve went together anyway,” you finally look over at him. “wanting to go and make fun of people at prom isn't something that appeals me anymore. i just…”

pausing, your eyes trace over his features before staring back at his eyes. “i just wanted to go with you. i wanted to be with you.”

opening his mouth, eddie begins to speak. but you’re already opening the door and stepping out of the van, making your way towards the door.

eddie watches quietly, a small frown on his face. the door closes behind yourself, yet he still finds himself sitting outside your home for the next thirty minutes.

—

an old record plays as you read, some candy wrappers on your nightstand, fresh out of the shower in new clothing and a freshly cleaned bedroom.

it’s prom day. and even though you could’ve asked someone, you didn’t.

so, a productive day was in store. cleaning, dancing on small breaks, keeping your mind from wondering on how eddie might’ve looked tonight.

your parents were gone for the night — new shifts being picked up.

it was perfect. maybe.

hearing the doorbell, you perk up suddenly, rolling off the bed to slip on your slippers. the oversized shirt your wear slips off your shoulder slightly as you make your way down the steps.

grabbing the money that had been slipped into the bowl by the door for you, you open the door. “hi. it was—”

you pause when you see eddie in front of you. a pressed suit on, his hair in a low bun. he’s clean shaven, some sort of new cologne lingers on him.

“what are you doing here? your supposed to be at prom.”

“i—” eddie stares at you, watching as your brows furrow together slightly. the worry lines on your forehead deepen causes his heart to skip a beat, his chest slightly heaving as his palms grow clammy.

you look almost unreal. the light on the porch shines inside just right, highlighting your face. something catches in his throat as he steps over the threshold, pressing his lips against yours as his hands cradle your face.

your eyes are wide, hands raised in the air. eddie hasn’t pulled away and suddenly, you’re all too aware of what’s happening. the shock slowly settling as your eyes slowly close and hands lower to his shoulders.

he steps closer this time, one of his hands tangling into your hair as his thumb drags slowly across your cheekbone.

pulling away slowly, he watches as your head lowers, his lips grazing against your forehead. “what are you doing?”

“i couldn’t stop thinking about you,” his voice is soft, melted into something sweet. “that’s not anything new. i always think about you,”

you’re quick to look up at him once again. “i just…feelings are something that scares me. and when i realized how i felt about you,” his hand cups your cheek again, shaking his head. “how i truly felt, it scared me. i didn’t…couldn’t want to ruin something good.”

“eddie—”

“no,” he cuts you off. “i should’ve told you. i shouldn’t have kept you wondering for so long, im sorry. i’m so sorry,” he breathes, pressing another kiss to your lips.

your overwhelmed in both a good and bad way. he pulls away quickly, shaking his head again. “i couldn’t stop thinking about you. i love you,” he nods this time, pressing his forehead against your own. “i love you.”

closing your eyes slowly, your hands slide down his arm to wrap around his wrist softly. his nose nudges against yours, his lips grazing yours.

turning your head, your lips press a kiss to his palm softly before opening your eyes slowly. you glance at him, pressing another kiss to his other palm.

“i love you too, eddie,” you nod. “but this isn’t something i want you to be rash about. something that you’re just—”

“i’m not,” he cuts you off quickly. “i’m not being rash just because of the other night. it hurts. i dream about you every night. the home we have. the…” his breath is shaky.

“the kids we have. it feels real to me. it is real,” he nods. “this is real.” he whispers.

you stare at him quietly, before suddenly nodding. cupping his jaw, you press a kiss to his lips, pressing your forehead against his.

“this is real.” you whisper softly.

#𝜗𝜚 cherry’s inbox #joseph quinn x fem!reader #joseph quinn x reader #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you

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skookyumi · 2 days ago

Text

Lets calm down

Ran x Reader x Sevika You and your partner Ran work hard to stand beside your girlfriend and support her standing at the council. After a rough meeting Sevika and you can't seem to stop fighting with each other. It gets to a point where no one can go to sleep so Ran decides to take care of the situation themselves. WC: 8,495 AFAB reader They/them pronouns ! MINORS DNI !! NSFW WRITING Contains : Slapping , hair pulling , restraints , toys Realized i can post my works on here too not just AO3 haha! Enjoy ~! __________

This day could’ve gone ten thousand times better if Sevika wasn’t such a fucking control freak. She was the one who asked you to go to her meeting in Piltover for your ‘Direct Opinions’ on the matter of Enforces in Zaun’s neighborhoods. Your passion for the increase of policing and brutality against the poorer people was fiery and consistent.

Bringing it up to both of your partners when political talk was amongst the house. With Sevikas newer position as the chairholder in Piltover for Zaun , You and Ran were often helping your partner in her endeavors. All three of you being politically adept with the time spent with the Late Silco and the time spent away from him cleaning up his messes.

It was rare that either of you got to go to Piltover and speak, Ran had been a few times and you only once. Here you were being asked again to speak on something you're passionate about and you wouldn’t give anyone of these rich fucks time to dismiss your grievances. Starting pleasantly, you stood beside Sevika in her chair that saddled in the middle of a large gear shaped table. Many familiar faces appear to take their own seats , some you’ve never seen before.

Pleasantries are exchanged as seats are taken and Caitlyn stays standing as she announces your presence and the topic of discussion. When Sevika speaks it only takes minutes for the conversation to get a bit heated. Many of the older chairs stated that with Zaun’s new independence that heavy policing was necessary; with more freedom comes more problems. Sevika harshly disagreed, palm slapping forcefully on the table, Caitlyn agreeing with her with stern words.

She brought up her time forcefully controlling Zaun and how it made the people bitter and hateful, how the reprimandation for those actions will take longer to heal and cause more outrage against Piltover. Counselor Shoova also added that with the recovery from the Arcane incident over a year ago, that resources were still spread thinly and little was available for the shadowed city. “If i may-” you move closer to the table from behind Sevikas chair. She doesn’t look at you , silver eyes dancing across the counselors, daring them to not let you speak. Caitlyn raises her hand to you to speak. “ A year after Zauns ‘Independence’ the people still fear the wrath that Enforcers bring, they still hold prejudice against our people. Falsely arresting citizens, Frequent stop and frisks, Unlawful entry and confiscation of money and items. Surely Piltover has no need for such things when wealth flows generously here-”

A older man with long white locks cuts you off “ Surely the enforces are just doing their job, Zaun is known for its crime you can’t expect us to think after a year of new leadership that those people have changed”

“ Those people haven’t changed, but you have never thought of us anything more than roaches, Is it us that really need to change?”

He sneers and a short older woman pipes up “ I have lived many years girl and I must say those people have never changed, and we do not want that sort of violence stemming its way up here.”

Your hands grip tightly behind your back trying to keep it together “ You’ve lived many years over an oppressed city who could only survive on violence and whatever scrap you threw to them. You all are talking about things that were projected onto the lower class because you are to involved in your own well being then that of others”

They don’t say anything giving you squinted looks of disgust, so Sevika speaks “ So, that's why we want to discuss creating our own law enforcement” she spits gruffly.

The table erupts into discussion making your body prickle with anxiety, Cait cuts in with a stern voice “ I have already offered my services to Councilor Sevika , Her partner Ran and I would only need three to four months to train an eligible force”

Small old woman brings a small fist down on the slab of cold marble “ Are you seriously thinking about this Caitlyn? Putting power into the hands of the people that killed your mother? Who produced that ‘Scientist’ , who I will say corrupted Jayce and took him from us?!”

Cait snaps her head to retort but you speak up faster “ None of those things would have happened if you people would shut the fuck up and listen” both of your hands are on the table as you lean to scream at her “ You’ve sat back lavishly while our people have suffered , seven year olds DYING ON THE STREET because you want to sit up here and complain about how horrible we are.”

Sevika has her organic hand on yours , and she's looking up at you from her seat and warning in her eyes. She wants you to calm down, but you rip your hand from hers with and snarl in your lip. Looking back to icy stares you point around the table “ You fear improvement because you know your time is numbered, Brilliance lies in the dark and you know you're nothing more than diamond colored coal”

‘That's enough’ you hear Sevika whisper.

“Watch your tongue !” the white haired man hisses

“See Caitlyn?! Rabid dogs in waiting ! Waiting to come here and take over our livelihoods!” the older woman shifted in her seat to look at the eyepatched one.

Caitlyn shakes her head and sends you a firm look then takes her eyes back to the older woman “ They do not want that , they want a stable form of protection without the intervention of a different city”

“More like keeping the filthy hands of their oppressors far away from the political power they used to hold on our city” you say after her “Our people crave normalcy, and having officers that don't understand our neighborhoods only insights violence and prejudice. Giving people the leg they need to take charge of their own communities is all we are asking for” Sevikas hand touches your wrist and you step back as the council bicker over your words. You back up and jiggle your leg anxiously, watching as Sevika takes charge of the conversation.

You're mellowed by her firm and decisive vision, explaining it thoroughly to the others, they seem to settle a bit with her steady voice. She was always good at holding a room's attention, her speech tranquil where yours was filled with passion and spite. This is exactly why she held this seat, combing through the political decorum like she was almost born a Piltie. She knew how to work them, after many trial and error periods she figured out how to get them to hear her.

The meeting was adjourned about an hour later, most voted for the training of Zauns own task force , even the old women voted yes. Though she didn’t leave without a stern glance at Sevika “ You should learn to train your tyke better, acting like a hound in a room full of bulls “

Sevika stiffens beside you and opens her mouth beside you brow’s pinched in fury, but you beat her to the punch “ I’d watch my mouth you fucking fossil”

She blanches and storms over to you poking a ridged finger into your gut “ You’re nothing but a mongrel, I don't even know why Sevika brought you here, you’re a sorry excuse for a representative and a disgusting example for your ‘People’ ”

Sev finally stand up behind her placing a firm hand on the older woman's shoulder “ They are here because they have an incredible understanding of the political workings of Zaun, and because they are my partner and i asked them to come support me” she says smoothly, but you can tell from the strain in her neck she's trying not to lash out.

You’re fuming that she’s not , but you don't say anything else as she deescalates the situation. The two women walk out together and you follow behind a few feet thinking about how you want to take the granny out. How dare she?! She's been spoon fed her whole life and she has the audacity to look at you like you just stole her kid. Caught in thought you don’t see her walk away and you also don't see the furious look Sevika lands on you. You follow her shoes all the way to her office still thinking, you're finally out of your head when she slams her door closed.

Looking up you meet angry silver eyes “What?” “What?! Really ?? I brought you here to speak about the task force, not start fights or embarrass me !”

Your face heated as she spoke, watching her as she collected all of your things and some paperwork. Pulling your lips down you could feel your eye twitch at the last word. “ Oh so sticking up for our people is embarrassing okay” “No, you losing your cool and not taking the hint you should shut up and stop talking to them like that is”

“Sorry i haven't started talking like a proper piltie like you”

She turns to you teeth bared and angry “ To get what we need for Zaun certain things are required “

“Like letting that old bitch walk all over me? I’m not going to sit back and just take it, I'm going to defend myself!”

She slides her bag over her shoulder and walks over to you angrily “ Just stop being so fucking sensitive you almost ruined this for us” she bites out, head tilted down to you “ That ‘old bitch’ almost revoked her vote because of you”

Your heart squeezes with an ache and you look away from her, tears sting threateningly at your eyes but you bite your cheek to stop them. Guilt made a heavy blanket on your shoulders and sadness settled in your gut from Sevika’s words.

She took a deep breath rubbing her fingers on the bridge of her nose “ Look babe I-” she moved to put a hand on your arm, but you moved out of its range and cut her off. “ Let's just go before I embarrass you anymore” you say under your breath, turning to the door and making your way out of her office. Walking down the hall before she comes out it doesn’t take her much time to catch up with you. She grabs your wrist and you yank it from her “What?!”

“Let’s just talk babe”

“No, fuck off”

She groans in frustration as you take off again.

The trip back home is tense and quiet, you refuse to look at her and she keeps looking at you. The whole forty-five minutes you sit and stew. She was right about you being out of line, these were snobs who liked prim and proper manners even if they didn’t give you them back. It pissed you off more that she was right and then followed her correctness with words that triggered the fuck out of you. You had always been a loud and passionate person, often driving off others with your vigor. Your feelings were bold and you had to be deaf and blind to not be extremely aware of them.

Most of the time you kept a happy demeanor encouraging joy through your actions and the people around you. When you were upset though it sapped the light out of the room, the poor disposition was a palpable force around you often making people uncomfortable. Your extreme emotions were cause for many fights and lost relationships in your youth, but now you usually had them under control. The sting of the past though was harsh and made you want to run around and scream.

Sevika knew of your insecurities about your high emotions, you had been dating for years for Janna’s sake, but she still threw the sensitive knife at you. On top of that she said you embarrassed her, what the fuck , you had been a bitch but you didn’t do anything wrong. Standing up for what you thought was right without backing down shouldn’t be something she's embarrassed about. A cold wave of anger ran over your body and you crossed your arms tightly. You weren’t a child having a tantrum ! You were a tired mid-thirty year old who was exhausted of seeing people beg for food and shelter then being beaten for it.

When you both finally make it back to your house Sevika opens the door for you , you storm in without saying anything to her. Ran’s laid back on the couch , peeking at the both of you as you walk in. They wear just an oversized shirt with a cute Cerberus on the front, hair choppy and spiked from where they were laying. They watch as you stormily take off your shoes, looking back to a Sevika who watched you warily. “So… it didn’t go well?” they ask as they made their way to the both of you.

You feel your eye twitch and your fists clench harder “ It went great , I’m taking a shower” You state making your way past them. Ran gapes a bit, casting a glance to Sev who is rubbing her face with her hands and groaning. She makes her way to the kitchen dropping a small kiss on Ran’s head “We got the votes, Caitlyn should be here in the next couple of weeks”

She grabs her whiskey and a cup out of the cupboard, Ran follows wrapping their arms around her middle as she pours. They bring their cool metal hand to her tummy and trail it in small circles “ So what's with grumpy?”

Sevika grimaces and downs her first drink, silence filled with the soft sounds of the shower. She turns to face her partner rubbing the back of her neck “They got really angry today, which is fine and warranted, but wouldn’t stop picking fights with that old hag”

Ran nods and pours her another drink.

“ They put the goal at risk and i got mad, so i said they were sensitive “ ran raises their eyebrows “ And that they… embarrassed me”

Ran frowns at that, slapping a judgemental hand on sevika’s shoulder “ Why the fuck would you say that?”

Sev sneers hand gripping her cup hard “I was pissed off! And there's a certain way we have to talk to those shit heads to even get them to look our way”

“ I'm sure there was a better way to say that to them”

“I was trying, but they don’t want to even look at me” the large woman slumps against the counter sighing. Ran puts their hand on her cheek rubbing soothingly with their thumb “ Well after their shower talk to them okay? They shouldn’t have blown up and you shouldn’t have talked to them that way”

She nods stiffly and Ran tips their head to kiss her softly. They share a soft smooch before dipping away towards the bathroom. Opening the door Ran peeks their head in, the room is steamy with the lack of a fan , smells of cedar and balsam are heavy in the air.

They slide the shower curtain open watching you as you angrily scrub your curls.

“Hi baby” they say sweetly

“Hello lover” you reply coldy keeping your eyes closed.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, why would i? I’m just being too sensitive ” the word curls out of your mouth like venom.

Ran’s full lips pout “ You know she didn’t mean that baby”

“Well SHE can go fuck herself, I don’t know why she even fucking asked me to go. I’m not going to apologize for being myself and she’s not going to get me to sit like a good little dog as those Pilties spit on us!” You slam the shower off, sliding the curtain all the way open.

“No one’s asking you to do that-”

“No, but she wants me to be someone else. I'm too much of an embarrassment for her” the words are sour on your tongue and Ran looks sad “ She should’ve just taken you, You're the one working with the goddamn task force anyways”

“But I'm not a talker, not a passionate one like you anyways”

You wrap your towel around your body “ Well I’m obviously not the right kind, Maybe i should just shut up like she says-” you walk past Ran into the hall “ Or maybe i should roll over and bark too” you say louder glaring at Sevika as you walk to your room.

As you dress in a big shirt yourself you hear stomping coming to the room and a small ‘sev’ from Ran as she blunders into your space. Sliding on your briefs you pull your arms to your chest to cross them defensively, staring up into those angry silver eyes challenging her.

“Are you ready to talk now? Or are you just going to bitch around the house all night?”

Ran sighs and holds their head in their hand as you explode into action. Pushing your hands against Sevikas firm chest, she stumbles back surprised by your sudden action and spilling her liquor all over her shirt. Which was still her nice work shirt you thought ,pleased.

“I'm not talking to you if you’re going to treat me like that , which i KNEW you would because you have the emotional capacity of a ROCK ” you yell.

“Treat you like what?! Should treat you like a fucking tyke since you’re acting like one?”

You want to hit her, you’re close to doing it but you know it won't solve anything “ If you like hearing that old bitches words so much, go fuck her and sleep in her bed instead” you spit lowly. Whipping away from her you crawl to your side of the bed and curl under the covers, slamming your head on your pillow facing away from them. Watching the wall as you listen to your partners talk. “ See “ sev hisses directing her hand to your covered shape.

Ran looks at her incredulously “ Oh yeah they’re really gonna open up and tell you how they feel when you call them a child “

They slide in beside you and move some of your wet curls out of your face, warm body pressing up behind yours “ It’d be better to talk it out now, it's not good to go to sleep angry with each other”

You grit your teeth knowing they are right and your shoulders hunch in agitation. Their arm wraps around your midsection as they get closer to your face with theirs. Kissing your temple to your nose they wrapped a hand around your own clenched ones. Tilting your head to look at them they stared back with loving dark eyes squinting with a small smile. For the first time that night warmth filled your heart replacing some of the anger with love.

They brought their lips to yours with the softening of your eyes. Soft lips caressed yours gently, hand leaving yours to cup your jaw delicately. A breath you didn’t know you were holding left through your nose as you moved closer to them. They departed from you, kissing down your jaw in a way that made your tummy burn. “You can have more once you guys talk” they griped departing your space.

Huffing you sit up in your spot and glare at Sevika “Say what you need to say Oaf”

She starts stomping over to the bed and reaches like she's going to choke you but is stopped by Ran’s firm hand in her chest. Ran points at you with their other hand “Stop, both of you”

Squinting your eyes at her until she settles into a criss-cross, as she does you reach and snatch the cup out of her hands downing the rest of the harsh liquid. Smiling impishly at her as she growls and Ran leans back with an irritable look your way.

“You should know by now that you can’t talk to them like that! Don’t get all fucking beat up cause i called you out on it “ Sevika says angrily eyes narrowed.

“Call me out on all you want, but you’re the one who brought me there and you know I don’t back down! Why bring me there so I could act like myself all for you to turn around and say you're ashamed of me !”

You’re shaking a little bit with anger, crawling a little in front of Ran to get closer to Sevika’s face. Unwillingly angry tears crept from your eyes but you refused to blink meeting Sevika’s , now wavering, angry stare with your own. “ I’ve worked so fucking hard to stand up straight and fight for what I believe in, and for you my fucking girlfriend , to turn around and play my insecurities to get me to stand back down is fucked up. I know i should’ve simmered down but you can tell me that without making me feel like shit”

Tears fell hard now and you back up wiping your hand roughly across your face “ I’m sorry for almost fucking it up, but my feelings are valid and i won’t feel bad about those”

Ran looks horrified as you start to cry and Sevika blinks awkwardly, mouth opening and closing not knowing what to say first. After a moment she moves across the bed on all fours, raising her organic hand to capture your face “ I have never been ashamed of you, I shouldn’t have said what i said or how i said it” her tone is soft like velvet. She wipes your tears away and you swat her hand with a pout.

“No you shouldn’t ‘ve” you mumble, holding your head low and away from your partners.

She dips back onto her haunches with a sigh “ How can i make it better sweetpea?”

“Have an actual discussion with me instead of being a mean prick” you throw at her. Ran elbows you as Sevika throws you a look.

With gritted teeth she exclaims “ that's what i'm trying to do”

You two talk for a little with Ran sitting in the middle making sure neither of you lunge. Sev lights a cigar and you roll a joint while Ran turns on some shows for all of you to watch. Things settle , but you and Sev sleep on either side of Ran on account of them knowing that both of you were stubborn assholes. They laid with the hand draped in Sev’s hair playing with the dark locks languidly as their other rubbed cool circles in your thigh. The repetitive movement starts making you sleepy , so you get up on the bed standing to reach the dangling clicker on the light.

A large foot tapped the back of your knee hard, making your legs bend automatically. You let out a small wail as you lost balance and tipped over, basically somersaulting off the bed, knees hitting the ground hard. Chuffing of laughter made you whip your head in anger to a pair of glittering silver eyes. She held her mouth in a bubble, smoke puffing out as she tried not to laugh at you. Standing you jumped into her lap at an alarming rate and snatched the cigar out of her hand “ You are such a BITCH ” you hiss throwing the whole cigar in a lone cup of old water on the side table.

“Guys can we just-” Ran started

You looked sternly at them “ Guys?! Shes the one who fucking started it”

Your sentence is finished with a large hand gripping your throat and a low growl in your ear. It sent a chill down the side of your neck, but it didn’t hinder your anger. You and Sevika rarely physically fought anymore especially since all three of you had started committing to each other. The itch was still there though to bruise and maim each other, one that both of you seemingly needed to scratch.

Ran and Sevika both opened their mouths at the same time to speak, Sev to curse you and Ran to stop you seeing the fire in your brown eyes. Taking your planted knee you harshly into the side of your girlfriend making air leave her lungs and her hand leave your neck. You move your fist to jab at the area again but she catches it throwing it to the side. She bucks you off of her with ease making you bounce on your ass, she captures the sides of your face with one hand caging you in with the rest of her body

“ Sure you wanna do this babe? ”

You answer with a puppy dog face , feigning defeat , when she leans in with a smile you take the chance to practice a move she showed you. Canting your head back a bit then meeting hers harshly with a crack, a sharp ‘fuck’ rings out and you cackle pointing and laughing at her. She bares her teeth and moves to hit you back, organic fist clenched and aimed at your gut. “That's enough.” Ran states harshly besides both of you. It makes you both stop, it's rare Ran ever spoke out of a pleasant tone even when they were upset.

“Sevika, hands up on the headboard please” they cast their dark glance to the large woman. She balks and tries to say something but falters when Ran’s lips pull in a thinner line and their brows raise. Rolling her eyes she throws your held head back harshly, moving to her upper back against the headboard and raising her hands above her head.

“And you, between her legs now” they direct towards you moving themselves off the bed.

“Ran-”

“If you insist on pushing my buttons I promise you-” their threat trails off as you shuffle hurriedly between your girlfriend's thighs. Propping yourself on your haunches and crossing your arms, you and Sevika glare daggers at each other. Ran makes their way back to the bed placing some things down then moving to stand beside Sev and tying her wrists with a thick opalescent ribbon.

Their hands move with such precision it makes you watch them instead of the silver orbs below. After a second they bend down and ask “How does that feel darling?”

She just grunts and nods.

“Now, I can see we have some building tension. We are going to solve this here and now and then go to sleep Peacefully ” they say, tucking a stray hair out of sev’s face then turning to look at you.

The two of you weren’t new to Ran’s ‘lets calm down’ sessions, but it was something they were very good at and a thing they only did when both of you needed to be ‘punished’. The sessions did work well, but you hated to admit it. You draw your lips up in anger and furrow your brow as your partner rounds behind you taking in your folded arms harshly. They wrap another silky ribbon around your own wrists tuting as you flip the bird from behind.

“What are our safe words, cuties?”

“Poison” Sev answers.

You glower and say nothing. Ran waits a beat and after a minute they straddle Sev to face you, taking their metal hand to caress your face. Leaning in to brush their plush lips against your quickening pulse point, hovering and letting soft breathes make their way up to your ear. A small baby whispers in your ear and Sevika’s eyes are burning into yours, bottom lip being furled between teeth.

You let out a small breath is resignation “ Snake”

They kiss below your ear gently and you can feel their smile. Leaning back onto a taut tummy they catch your eyes, looking for a second before they bring their flesh hand back and slap you harshly across the cheek. The sting in your eye makes it water and the impact makes you suck in a shaky breath “ Apologize”

You sneer “ For what?!”

Another smack has you reeling, heat starting to prickle down your limbs , hands flexing in their binds as the pain leaves. A whine leaves your lips as their hand soothes the area gently. They move from atop Sevika and behind you , grabbing your hair with their metal fingers tightly. They hold your head steady, dipping your body with the force of your hair hold , so you're face to face with Sev.

She's smirking at you, with a shit eating glint in her eyes and raising her eyebrows as if to say ‘Go ahead’

Anger and heat roll around in your stomach, being intertwined with embarrassment as a groan leaves your lips. Ran’s hand clenching and tugging your hair painfully “Apologize”

Their hips are pressed against your bottom , breasts hugging your back softly while their head dips to your ear. Organic hand moving to your front to glide over your plump belly , dipping softly into the front of your underwear. Sevika watched their movements like a hawk, eyes flicking back up to yours as they expanded. A small pink tip darting between dark lips, want starting to seep through her features.

Warm fingers dip below your clothing, brushing your pubes softly making your breath hitch. Shaking your head you refused to submit, fuck Sev and her stupid stupid face. With a sharp tug of your hair and a tantalizing brush against your clit, your thighs clench with a shaky moan.

“ I - I’m sorry Sev” you say shakily. She nods slowly, trying to lean closer to you but being held tightly by the headboard. It wouldn’t be hard to break out of, but she respected Ran’s actions and only strained slightly against the restraints.

Ran rewarded you with slow circling motion, gathering slick that started to pool onto your folds. You sucked your bottom lip in your mouth, brows pinching at the stimulation. Moving their fingers lower to shallowly dip into your entrance, only to quickly move back to their ministrations, now gliding quickly with extra wetness.

“Now you Sevi” their voice sends chills through your brain.

The older woman twitches below you , anticipation making her hands clench and unclench. Your eyes are half lidded now, mouth opened slightly as soft puffs of air make their way out of you. She was looking at you like she wanted to eat you, it made you crave her rough touch.

“I’m sorry baby” comes out like a purr, making you close your eyes, getting overstimulated by her gaze.

Your hair is released and you're pushed down into Sevikas body, cheek resting on her chest as Ran lifts your ass up. Their fingers leaving your clit make you gasp, their hands pulling your briefs down make you wriggle. Sevika is looking down at you taking in all of the small movements your face makes. You're both in a position where you can’t touch or kiss each other and with the building heat it gets increasingly frustrating.

Her breath tickles your forehead, you can hear her heart beating faster as Ran moves behind you. Fingers dancing between your folds pushes a harsh breath from your lungs, face scrubbing against the rough material of Sevikas shirt. Your hips cant up higher trying to follow the soft touch, wanting more, and you cry out softly as the fingers leave. You're pushed up, knees going weak as a sharp crack of hand lands on your ass making you moan. “Be patient , you’ll get what you want” Ran warns from behind, smoothing over the searing skin with a cool metal palm.

Their strong hands move to either side of your hips, lifting you so you straddled Sevi’s midsection. Your face tucked closely to her neck where you began leaving soft bites and kitten licks. Sevika hissed turning her head to capture your lips only to be stopped by a fierce hand in her hair “ No ma’am”

She grunts at the force in which she's pulled, neck straining and giving you more room for your lips. You look up to Ran who is looking back at you, dark eyes heavy lidded and a smirk playing sweetly on their lips, they nod for you to continue. You start by biting the taunt tendon of her neck harshly, licking over the tender spot when she bucks against you. The rub of her abdomen against your desire has your head spinning and you thank her for the stimulation by sucking a dark hickey over her collarbone.

The devouring of her neck has her squirming under you, you want to kiss her but know Ran won’t hesitate to punish you. “Behave” they say sweetly to Sev, kissing her lips gently. She follows after theirs when they leave to take position behind you again now sitting between Sevikas legs. They grab her boxers and slide them off, taking in her glistening pussy with delight. She loves watching you get punished and touched, she wouldn’t admit it outloud but she also loved when Ran took charge. They always did even when they bottomed but they were a calculated and amiable dom where sev was sporadic and sadistic. Making her bow easily to their will knowing they’d take it from her one way or another.

Ran places a single finger gently on Sevikas cunt, teasing the dripping hole before bringing their thumb to smoosh her clit harshly. Her head hits the back of the headboard hard, a groan leaving her mouth. You bite your lip and nuzzle your way down her chest, biting the edge of her tank top to bring it under her breast. As you took her perked nipple into your mouth Ran started pushing two slender fingers into her easily. She opened beautifully for them, hips stuttering down on the intrusion.

“F-fuck” she moaned head leaning back between her arms. You nibbled the pebbled flesh , sucking and licking the dark skin while Ran pumped into her lazily watching as your arousal dribbled onto sev’s hard ab’s. Watching you move to her other breast with hurried grace then bringing their eyes to dark irises plated with a ring of silver. They smile sweetly, pushing their fingers to the back of her cunt and rubbing with deep pressure against spongy nerves, thumb gliding cooly over her clit.

Her moan reverberated through her chest making you close your eyes and grind against the tensing muscle below. Your cry out, unlatching from Sevika’s chest, as a warm tongue dives between your folds. A cold nose dipping into your entrance as Ran’s mouth suckels your pleasure between their lips. Their metal hand holding your thigh bruisingly makes it hard for you to push back onto them, their tongue flattening against your clit in a flick upwards .

Your forehead sits between two warm breasts as you try and steady yourself, breathing harshly as heat collects in your core.

“S’feel good?” you hear sev ask from above you. You nod pathetically , sweat starting to build on your temple.

“Answer properly” Ran takes their mouth from you and you whine loudly.

“Yes sir, it feels really good” you mutter looking up at her face.

Her eyes keep yours, pulling you into some kind of spell, your head feels lighter and your eyelashes flutter. She smiles wickedly, eyebrows scrunched in pleasure as your other partner fingers her thoroughly.

Ran makes you cum like that, slowly eating your pussy until you're shaking on top of Sevika. Their name leaving your mouth in a long moan, they hum digging their face into you as your thighs shutter against their hand. Their tongue doesn't stop though making you grit your teeth in over-stimulation , sharp pain combined with pleasure making you scramble to get away. They finally release you with a sultry pop making you collapse wholly onto Sevikas chest.

Sev makes a long groaning sound as they remove their fingers from her, moving to your sides “Open up” they say politely. You turn to them and open your mouth taking in Sevika’s musky slick , the taste making your tongue happily swirl between their digits. After a few moments they turn their wet coated face to Sevika and smile “ Clean me please”

You watch them eyes burning into the sides of their faces as Sevika takes her time to lick and kiss all of your remnants off your partner's face. The sight makes you hungry for more, the concern of oversensitiveness from your orgasm being thrown out the window.

They back away pleased with both of your actions, stepping away to round the bed to get something they placed there earlier. Watching them you see them work leather strips around their hips, tightening them and adjusting the ring that sits in the middle. They trade it out with a much larger one, it holds a new toy they bought not too long ago. The piece is huge , holding two phallices instead of one, the base spreading widely covering most of the leather that shaded their pelvis. You noted the wetness that bloomed onto their underwear as the leather straps pushed against their lips tightly.

Gathering a pillow they tucked in neatly under Sevikas hips, kiting you both higher on the bed. They moved you back onto here until your clits brushed gently , making you moan softly into Sev’s chest. She tipped her hips to grind against you more, seeking the wet glide of your heats together. A metal hand pushes your back down so you're completely flush with Sevika, thighs spread more as Ran moves Sev's legs up, bending her knees in a way that lifts you higher.

Your arms strain as Ran takes hold of your binds from behind, gliding one tip through your fold gathering their spit and your release. Your head jumps just as Sevika does and you assume that Ran is doing the same to her with the other cock . The back of Ran’s knuckles brush your thighs as they grab Sevika’s, knees positioning themselves under her. They don't give either of you a warning before they start breaching your entrance with a firm snap of their hips.

The girthly length is taken greedily by you, walls constricting tightly as it has no problem reaching your end point at this angle. Your breath leaves you like you’ve been punched in the gut being quickly replaced with cut off moans as Ran doesn't hesitate to start pistioning their hips. Sevikas mouth hangs open with her eyes closed and dark brow furrowed deeply, soft fucks and Rans leaving her lips, wrists straining hard against her restraints.

As they pound into both of you the friction from the movement sets a steady rhythm between your bodies, clits rubbing between each other. Your arms bend in pain as they push down to lean over you two better, their heavy breath cooling the sweat on the back of your neck. Wet slapping makes a rhythm timed with your high moans and Sevika’s grunting making Ran smile with effort.

“You two look so beautiful” they state shakily “ Taking my cocks so well, so well behaved”

The praise has you invigorated and pushing against their wicked thrust. You tilt your hips up just a little higher so you could get them to fuck you right where you wanted it. Noticing, their hand slips from your binding to the supple flesh of your hip guiding it up the way you wanted. Their sharp thrust has you seeing stars behind your eyelids, making you pant and drool “ Yes! Just like that , please!” crying as small tears leave the tips of your eyes.

Sevika lets out a guttural groan at your words, you turn your head to catch dark eyes “Harder please, fuck me harder”

Ran smiles, dropping your hip, grabbing both of Sevika’s legs and throwing them over their shoulder, both of you moaning at the change of position with the cocks still inside you both. She's almost folded in half with you perched on her lap, Ran wraps their arms around either outer side of her thighs gathering in the middle to hold onto your restraints tightly with both hands. Your nose is touching Sevika’s, eyes staring deeply into each other. Her eyes were lidded beautifully , scar shining making the sweat that dripped down that side glisten with a blue hue.

“Go ahead darlings” ran says sweetly then begins to fuck into the both of you with the ferociousty of a starved man.

“Oh f-uck” you yell the assault on your insides making your body quiver. Sevika captures your lips with a hard bite and you whine as she moans into your mouth. “I’m sorry baby, I love you so much”

“I- ah- i love you too sevvy “ you groan into her mouth. Your tongues dance until you have to back off to take some stuttering breaths.

Ran watches the both of you, head tilting to one side in excretion , eyes dropping to your connected sexes. The image makes them groan and fuck both of you with as much as they could muster. The way both of your course hairs intertwine in curls soaked with both of your juices, the wide stretch of you both around their cocks. Sticky lines of cum and spit starting to build between all of you. Sevika’s head falls back between her arms with moans being punched out of her, the glide of your clit over hers building a hard weight in her back.

Her legs shake fiercely on Ran’s shoulders as her orgasm is fucked out of her, making their hips stutter from the tightness of which she constricts herself around their length. “ God- fuck Ran” she growls back bending to a tight arch against you. Her hair cascades infront of her face as she puts her forehead against yours, her hot breath meeting your lips. You bite your lip and try not scream as Ran’s organic hand releases your silk to place a now buzzing wand between your cunts.

They fuck both of you sloppier but its more than enough as the vibrations shake your core. Sevika thrashes with the sensory overload, teeth bared as she looks into your eyes.

Deep pressure sizzles in the base of your gut , building into something more than an orgasm. Shaking your head, small tear fall onto sev “ I - ran please , im gonna-” All they do is hum, adjusting their hips so they could push into both of you slower and focus on the position of the toy. With one last deep push from them and a high pitched noise leaves your mouth. A white hot flash ripples down your spine, your clit being buzzed into numbness as they pull out quickly. They curse softly as your cunt flutters now empty of them, clenching around nothing as you start squirting. “That's it” they whisper watching the hot liquid spill from you onto the wand and sevika’s own pulsing cunt.

When they finally pull away your muscles finally release the ridged hold they had on your body, your head hangs low on Sevikas shoulder. You both settle lower as Ran removes themselves, the clinking of buckles let you know they’re taking off their strap. “Up baby” they grab your wrist and you hiss with soreness but get onto your knees and move. Taking in deep breaths between sev’s knees you watch your lovers kiss. It makes your soul thrum vividly with burning light, you wished you could crawl between them and seep into their pores.

Sevika leans in hungrily at the others touch, while delicate fingers run a small trail down her abs.

“I'm going to untie you, and you're going to put this on okay?” they point to the discarded strap, which now you’ve noticed they have switched the toy with Sevika’s favorite. It was an average size, but the girth was almost too much. Even though you felt spent heat bubbled up into your core as you wondered if she was going to fuck you or Ran with it. They start untying the pearly strip, casting a glance your way. They stopped and moved their finger around in a circle, indicating that you should turn around.

Huffing you do as they say turning to face the wall that held the T.V. , its staticy glass reflecting your disheveled state. The bowing of the bed made you jump in anticipation, eyes being caught by a now standing Ran. They walked in front of you cupping your cheek with one hand gently brushing through thick locks with the other. Strong arms wrap around your middle and pick you up making you yelp, Sev chuckles as she settles you above her lap. Perked breast press hard against your back,her head dipping down into the crook of your neck to give you a rough bite.

Whimpering as her cock slips clumsily between your labia as she settles her knees, kissing the indentations she left. The hand in your hair tightens, turning your attention back to Ran’s cool gaze. Their mouth is hung open slightly, wet and darkened by bites, and though their face was schooled you could see the restlessness behind their eyes. With their free hand they finally pull their underwear down, a low groan leaving your mouth as built up secretion spiderwebs from their trimmed mound to their soiled briefs.

“That's all for you baby” Sev rumbles in your ear, grinding against you “What do you say?”

She shifts you in her grasp, the tip of her cock pressing deliciously against you, while Ran guides your mouth closer to their rigid bud. Licking your lips you gaze up haughtly into their eyes “ Thank you sir”

Their lips tug in a lopsided smirk “You’re welcome baby”

Moaning loudly as they drag you roughly by your hair and affixing your mouth to their clit. You gladly opened up, licking a hot line from their core to swirl with expertise , taking in their heady taste committing it to memory. They grunt gripping your hair tighter, pulling you until your nose is flush with coarse dark hairs. You get lost in the rhythm of their stuttered breaths, pursing your lips to better suck on their desire, preening as they let a quiet moan leave their lips.

You forgot sevika held you until your walls tensed as she started to enter you, a startled groan making Ran’s thighs quiver from titillation. Sevika kissed and bit the span of your shoulders, slowly stretching you out on her cock , whispering dirty nothings into your ear. When she bottoms out Ran spreads their legs more, planting their feet firmly into your comforter. You hum into them feeling raw and used , but also feeling held and worshiped. The way they look at you makes your heart stutter, your eyelashes fanning down as you nuzzle your face as close as you can.

Seeing you ravage their sex passionately Sevika growls, squeezing her arms around you and balancing her knees, she fucks into you. The impact of her vicious thrust causes your face to grind against Ran's heat at a brutal pace. They start letting out consistent moans of pleasure and your scalp feels like it's on fire as they double down on their grip.

“God- you take cock like a slut” Sevi hissed. Bringing her organic hand down to spread your lips and rub against the sensitive bud that awaited her. Her pace is brutal and sloppy ,but it's no less effective and you sob shallowly into Ran’s cunt. Their smooth composure cracking as they closed in on their own release, mouth whispering praise. ‘So good’

‘Just like that’

‘Taking us so well’

“Look at me” they growl. With lots of effort you opened your scrunched eyes meeting dark orbs that almost vibrated from your attention. You look pitiful below them, most of your face glistening from the powerful face riding Sevika is pummeling you into. Her eyes are on theirs too, breath almost whistling through gapped teeth from effort . Her large frame covering your back, shoulders jumping as she hugs you down onto her thrust. When tears start brimming your eyes Ran’s face grimaced exquisitely, their hair falling in their face as they arched into you. A beautiful chime of a moan rolls through them, and you worship their clit as their orgasm ripped through their body.

They pull you off of them a sultry snicker leaving them as your sounds become unmuffled by them. Loud and punctuated ‘ahs’ and ‘fucks’ floundering out of a gaping mouth, your head hanging low as they released your hair. Dropping to their knees they cup your moist face smiling at your unfocused eyes, placing a tender kiss to your swollen lips. You let out a small hiccup of a sob, all of your nerves on fire , tears dripping onto the sheets as Sevika doesn’t let up.

You break the kiss suddenly, head slamming on to Ran’s shoulder shaking it back and forth as your third orgasm is pulled out of you. Shoulders shaking with meager wail as Sevika slows and helps you ride out the final tremors of pleasure. When she finally stops, she's fully seated inside you kissing softly down your jaw and back to your forehead. Ran rubs soothing circles into your tear stained cheek smoothly and brings your head to their chest.

After a minute of catching your breath Sev rubs your tummy “ I'm gonna pull out now okay?”

Nodding your head as it's held you whine as the large piece slips out of you. Sliding back now that your free Ran pulls you down so your face lays on the bed and they start untying your wrist, massaging the worked flesh as they go. Grumbling a thank you against the sheets as you roll your wrists in freedom , thankful for the final relaxation of your muscle. You Are rotated and gathered in one swift motion by them, being held in a princess fashion as they scoot of the bed.

Your head is feeling heavier by the second, sleep calling your name, but you resist as they walk both of you into the bathroom, Sevika following behind. You all shower together, it's intimate and slow, taking the time to properly clean and take care of each other. Afterwards Sevika stands, arms wrapped around you as you make the three of you a post orgasm snack while Ran finishes changing the sheets.

They make grabby hands at the two of you when you walk back in, making your heart flutter and a blush touch your cheeks. It was easy for your limbs to intermingle as the three of you cuddled close to each other. Now taking the middle spot of the bed you doze quickly off laying your head on Sevika’s lap. She plays with your hair lazily as her and Ran share the final cigarillo of the night. Ran’s hand lays intertwined with yours as their arms stretches over your side, small kisses being placed on your temple.

“Love you” you mumble sleepily

“I love you too” they smile against your skin.

The smell of sweet smoke and the embrace of your lovers quickly coax you into gentle sleep.

#ran x sevika #ran arcane #arcane #sevika arcane #ran x reader #sevika x reader #smut #wlw smut #i cant help but get political #i love ran and SEVIKA !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! I LOVE THEM #sevika fanfic #ran fanfic #ran x reader x sevika

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diz-eaze · 9 hours ago

Note

Imagine: modern yandere Scaramouche but instead of being a Nepo baby he's a broke baby and you're the rich one.

broke boy Scara banging his head against the wall when his old phone finally gives up on him. He's experiencing very heavy internet withdrawal cause he haven't checked your Instagram for 2 hours now.

Broke boy Scara trying to give you give you gifts but you either already own it or you have an even better version of the gift (He's going to cry himself to sleep tonight because you must think he's a cheep scape)

broke boy Scara wanting to go out to lunch with you but the restaurants you pick are always out of his budget so you have to pay for his meals (even though he insist he's okay with just watching you eat like the little freak he is)

broke boy Scara crying and pulling his hair off his scalp because he's forced to drop out of college cause he failed all his classes (he was too busy stalking you) and now he can't be with you anymore.

broke boy Scara feeling elated when you agreed to let him stay with you until he can get himself back on his feet and enroll again (he's never gonna leave you)

; this is a stroke of genius omfggggg,,,, broke boy scara,,,, BROKE BOY SCARA !!!!!! his 5GB worth of load data runs out one day while he's stalking your account, and his will to live dims out just like that 😭😭 thinking of this concept with a preppy, kind rich girl teehee

; yandere, not proofread i wrote this in one go, female (y/n), popular girl x loserboy trope omg,,, referred to as scara narratively but called kunikuzushi in dialogue like once.

i think the reason why broke boy scara came to be is because he ran away from his home to escape his emotionally neglectful mother (albeit she's in the process of grieving her twin sister, but it doesn't justify her actions) and sister as soon as he turned 18. he swiped his legal documents, ransacked any cash lying around, applied for a scholarship to a state university, and booked it. in this au, he never really encountered or met nahida at all.

he lives in a cramped one-bedroom apartment near the state university that accepted his scholarship application to save money. after all, the cash he took won't last him forever. having a lackluster resume is hard, he has no prior job experience so he can't apply for any decent paying ones at the moment. for now, scara settles on taking a part-time job as a convenience store cashier located on the same street as his apartment building.

before his first semester even begins, scara lives a monotonous life. he wakes up, eats a simple breakfast, advance studies to maintain his scholarship, goes to his part-time job, goes home, hangs out in his tiny balcony, and goes to sleep. he can't afford a laptop right now so he can't really game. all he has to pass time is his four-year-old phone. money is tight, but the elation of having freedom for the first time outweighs his worries.

the life he has right now isn't much, but it's undoubtedly his.

prior to meeting (y/n), broke boy scara had an idgaf mentality regarding his financial situation. it could be worse! he could have been on the streets homeless but he isn't - and that makes him grateful enough. sure, he doesn't have wi-fi, but that's not something weekly load can't fix. and maybe he doesn't have full, hearty meals every single day - but isn't that the average experience of a college student? gucci bags, caviar, diamond-encrusted earrings, etc., are luxuries for a reason! he doesn't need any of that nor is he tempted to.

predictably, his tune changes after your first meeting with him.

scara had to pick up his jaw from the floor because the whiplash of social difference he experienced after he took one step inside his university campus was jarring. of course, what did he expect? it's a state university, after all! there was no way that the place wouldn't be crawling with nepo babies and children of the country's politicians, all with dirty money paying for the full price of the hefty tuition fees.

you're one of them.

standing tall and proud with perfectly done hair, sunglasses protecting your delicate eyes from the harsh sunlight that comes with dreadful morning classes. dainty hands that have never known labour are decorated with rings topped with stones that he can't even identify. pierced ears adorned with bangle hoops made from gold, all while dressed in chanel and Burberry from top to bottom and finished off with jimmy choo heels. you are pretty, unfairly so.

you're surrounded by two other girls that are dressed in similar splendor, all smiles and giggles as you walk toward your first class.

money... talks.

to his surprise, scaramouche meets you again, as it turns out you share the same first period as him. he eyes the open seat next to you, debating if he should bite the bullet. his hesitation must be glaringly obvious as your eyes flit up to meet his. he flinches.

your nose scrunches up as you giggle, your bracelet-laden hand pats the seat as if to entice him. "come sit, i don't bite!"

he cautiously moves around your designer bag resting on the lecture room's floor, and even narrowly avoids stepping onto a gucci shopping bag just behind - it would be a great misfortune if he got himself into debt on the first day of his college semester like those kdramas he watched.

scaramouche sits up straight and keeps his hands to himself while waiting for the professor to arrive. silence wafts though the air, though he can't help but sneak glances at what exactly you were writing down on your ipad - he's reluctant to make conversation, still wary if you'd be offended at the prospect of a brokie like him (disregarding the fact that you were the one who invited him to sit).

and you seem content to be left to your own devices, so... he lets it be.

it isn't until the end of the lecture did you actually talk to him. amidst him picking up his slingbag to go to his next class, halfway through the room, a distinct voice calls out,

"hey, indigo-head!"

scaramouche freezes, his foot stilling in mid-air as he slowly turns around, unsure if he was the indigo-head you were referring to. he dumbly points to himself, and you nod enthusiastically, even giving him a big thumbs up for good measure.

he tries his best to still his accelerating beating heart.

"what's up?" he asks once you're near him, trying to play it cool.

"just wanted to say hi and introduce myself! my name's (y/n)," you reach out to dramatically shake his hands in exaggerated motions, and he hopes you don't feel the sweat that has built up in his palms.

"oh, guess you can call me... kunikuzushi. but just shorten it to kuni if you want," he shrugs, looking anywhere but you.

"got it, got it!" you let go of his hands, and the loss of your touch stings for some reason. "sorry to hold you up on your next class, see you around!"

"yeah, sure." scara cooly nods, watching you walk ahead of him until your figure is swallowed by the sea of students bustling around.

he doesn't want to admit it, but you leave disappointment in your wake. he was hoping for something more - like an offer of friendship, not an obligatory introduction of names. but perhaps that was his wishful thinking speaking - it's unrealistic to hope that would happen, you seemed to be surrounded with more than enough friends anyway.

you, with your perfectly done nails and easy confidence - evident of how you never had to experience insecurity or worry growing up, because you yourself are the person most people wanted to be.

right, right... why would you want to be friends with someone like him? realistically speaking, you're probably no different from those whiny, spoiled brats with shallow personalities. what a joke.

hah, maybe he really should lay off the kdramas.

a box of chocolate sits atop of his self-chosen desk the next time enters the class he shares with you. it screams wealth from the packaging alone, accompanied by a european-sounding brand name, and is that real gold?

"it's for you," your voice cuts through his inner monologue, and scaramouche looks up with indigo eyes wide in disbelief.

"what?"

you blink once, "i said, it's for you?"

"no, i heard you right the first time", scaramouche can't help but roll his eyes, "i meant - what for?"

"oh! it's nothing much, just a peace offering. i mean, you're my desk neighbour now, right? i don't know what you like but my dad got those chocolates from his trip back in belgium! heard it was custom-made by a renowned chocolatier or something." you smile, eyes urging him to try it.

scaramouche blinks, hesitant. "i hate sweets."

you gawk in disappointment before going back to being easy-going. "it's okay! you can just give it to your siblings or throw it away! as for my peace offering... hmm."

you snap your fingers and ask him, "what do you like?"

he frowns, "what?"

"let's go shopping after your classes ends, i'll take you wherever you want!" you excitedly explain, decorated soft hands grabbing his callous ones. "my treat!"

scaramouche stutters then, pink dusting his ears, "y-...you don't need to all this, are you insane?"

but doing all of this for him... he struggles to fight back the smile threatening to break through his face.

you shake your head vehemently, still holding onto his hands, "it's no matter for me, so don't worry! i use my dad's credit card, after all!"

reality crashes down on him... right, this is probably nothing for rich kids like you. spare change, even. going around, doing acts of kindness using daddy's card... you'd probably do this 'peace offering' regardless if he weren't seated next to you - that this is just how you are as a person. you're not doing this because of him specifically.

and that thought stings. it eats him up more than he'd like to admit.

still, he agrees. he tells you he likes to play video games in his spare time (a lie, he doesn't have the means to do so).

you gift him a ps5 in turn.

and the wealth and social discrepancy between the two of you makes it even more apparent to him. he goes to his bed that night with thoughts of 'what-if's.

by the time the second semester of university hits, scaramouche's routine have greatly been altered - all thanks to your eventual friendship with him, of course.

nowadays, he obsesses with fervor. he barely even touches the ps5 you gave him. he barely touches the things you gift him in general.

he views them as something sacred. to be touched by him is sin.

the first thing he does after waking up is opening his phone to look at your instagram account, with your wealth there's no doubt that you've probably added a new story pertaining to an impulsive purchase or impromptu getaway. next up is twitter, checking to see if your following and followers are the same or decreased/increased.

every day he worries that you might be hiding a secret boyfriend from him. someone who is able to stand with you on a podium - someone who matches you not only in terms of wealth but in extrovert nature as well. scaramouche thinks he'd die the day he finds out you've fallen for someone that isn't him.

he eats breakfast soon after, the taste bland and lacking flavor. not because of the ingredients he used but because he's not eating with you. scaramouche finds that life with you not around is boring and dull. once he's done eating, he puts the dishes in the sink to wash.

he showers, dresses up, and exits his small apartment. it's only when he's a street away from the campus does his blood start buzzing in excitement. it's only then does scaramouche start to feel alive.

sometimes, if he's lucky, scaramouche will encounter you walking in the open fields and he'll speed up his pace just so you both can enter the lecture room together. you, with long acrylic nails that probably costed more than his monthly rent, would playfully pinch him in greeting. he has to push down the shiver of delight that crawls up his spine every time.

the bad days happen when he wakes up late, indigo hues heavy with eyebags, and movements tinged with fatigue. it's rare, but sometimes he wakes up late because he was busy thinking about you the night before. and when he's late, there's a good chance that the lecture room is already packed and his self-assigned seat next to you is already taken by someone else.

he hates it when it happens.

lunch break is a gamble for him, sometimes you're spending it with your other wealthy friends so he's left eating alone in the campus cafeteria. sometimes, you plead and beg with him to let you treat him to some high-end restaurant that's 30 minutes away from campus. in the beginning, he strongly refused out of a sense of embarrassment. but now, his raw need to constantly be around you is stronger than any shame he can possibly feel.

during your lunch breaks spent with him, scaramouche can't help but hope that the people around you two thinks that you're a couple. it happened once, during him accompanying you on a shopping trip and the words still rolls around in his mind.

boyfriend.

he wishes.

after lunch, he drives the both of you back to campus (you used to have a designated driver, but scaramouche soon offered to drive instead) using your car. you go on your separate ways, different classes and all. with you gone, the world loses its color once more.

he releases a sigh at that.

after classes, scaramouche walks several blocks to his part-time job. it's night by the time he returns to his apartment, body utterly tired. still, he pulls out his phone to check on your accounts once more.

he smiles when he sees himself in your story post.

scaramouches eats his measly dinner, eyes raving at the gifts from you that he accumulated while he chews. he still ponders on how he can pay you back on your generosity. what can you give to someone who has everything?

he settles into his twin-sized bed. he wonder then, how can he seize control of your life that's so above his? what leverage can he pull for him to be yours?

scaramouche closes his eyes, letting the sleep take hold of his mind.

for now, he'll gladly play along as your university friend.

#this altered my brain chemistry.#i NEEED to start writing for other characters brah #but he's just soooooooo... twirls hair #i couldn't incorporate the last bits of scara unable to enroll bc of freak behavior but omg... that thought festers in me i swear.#he comes to class the next term and suddenly you have a bf now #he's kreeling everyone around him #scara is very tame at the beginning bc he cant do much #but when push comes to shove #hmm.#outro's interlude <3 #outro's asks <3 #tw yandere #yandere #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere male #yandere scaramouche #yandere x darling #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin impact #yandere x reader #soft yandere #male yandere #i was supposed to do this in bullet format but it ended up escalating like this so... scratches head

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two-white-butterflies · 3 days ago

Text

slowburn

Description: Harvey refuses to take a sick leave. You teach him the importance of staying home and resting while unraveling feelings towards each other that have been kept hidden for ten years.

Pairing: harvey specter/reader

There were a million adjectives that you could use to describe Harvey Specter. Dedicated was one of those adjectives. He is the type of person to put in more work than he was getting paid for - oftentimes, it gets him into trouble but the fucking genius always finds a way out.

You suppose that is half the reason why you hate his guts.

His actions never have any negative consequences. He just marches into the room with a self-absorbed smirk and wiggles out of trouble. Matter of fact, you are surprised to see that he hasn't been sued for any workplace-related incidents before. You can think of at least three charges off the top of your head.

"He stole another one of my clients. I've been buttering up Mr. Pritchett for three months now and he just swoops in and finds his missing dog!" Phoebe rants while pacing back and forth, her heels clicking against the marble floors in a manner that you pray does not leave marks. Phoebe was hired at about the same time as Mike. She's been working as your associate for about half a year now.

Phoebe was at the top of her class at Harvard. She marched to Pearson Hardman with a laminated copy of her recommendation letters, all the professors were singing praises about her, almost as if they kneeled on the ground which she walked upon. On paper, she is leagues better than Mike Ross - but in reality, it seems like Harvey's associate is too much like him. Thief, you thought to yourself.

"There will be other clients," you reminded.

"We need Pritchett's Closets!" Phoebe sighs.

"- and Blinds." You gave her a teasing smile.

You have been trying to build this marketable image to your clients, opting to stay on the side of paperwork when it comes to technical cases mostly concerning patents, copyright claims, and all those boring things that actually bring the most money. After that case with Montgomery Co. with the missing ballerina and the murdered grandmother - it had all been too much, leaning more towards the black than the usual grey that you were suited with.

Phoebe knew that Pritchett's Closet's (& Blinds) endorsement would mean cementing that newfound niche that you've burrowed into, but with Harvey grabbing into Mr. Pritchett's proverbial golden tits. He is making that very difficult for you.

"I don't get it, why do they always steal our clients? Louis always gets the second most interesting cases." Phoebe regains her composure, opting to sit on the chair in front of you - watching as you drafted through a thousand-paged contract about some thingamajink. Phoebe just couldn't understand why Harvey of all people was hellbent on stealing your clients.

He is renowned for the storm, not the calm rivers.

"Our cases bring in the most money," you answered. It is very difficult to remain composed in front of your associate, but Jessica emphasized the fact that you were here to teach Phoebe about law. Rule #1 - never show any emotions. The first to react is the first to lose. "I don't think that Harvey is that desperate for money," she says.

You glance up from your laptop, an eyebrow raised in intrigue.

The way that her lips are curled right now. She's thinking about something unorthodox (which is not the appropriate adjective to use but you cannot think of another word to describe her mischief).

"I don't have time for this," you groaned hearing her giggles.

"Do you ever think that maybe Harvey is doing this to get your attention?" She leans a little closer, her eyebrows wiggling insisting that a connection existed even though it wasn't there. "Why would he want my attention, huh?" You asked expecting no decent answer.

"- because you are the third most fuckable woman in this office." She says in a hushed whisper. If there was water inside of your mouth, you would have spit it out by now. "Who's the first and the second?" Your voice comes out louder than you anticipated.

"I mean this with absolute adoration, but Jessica and me, respectively." Phoebe shrugs and a laugh forces its way out of your lips, for someone who answered her interview with professionalism, Phoebe is not acting very professional right now. "Jokes aside. I understand why Harvey would want to want you." She points out.

"You seriously have to stop reading those books," you roll your eyes.

"Remember that time when you brought me to the company gala? You were wearing that random dress from an atelier in Paris. It wasn't even a revealing gown, cloistered nuns wear clothes more revealing than that gown you wore but Harvey was staring at you with hearts in his fricking eyes." Phoebe exaggerates with her grand hand gestures. You suppose that you didn't exactly pay mind to Harvey during that gala - he did try to speak to you before leaving, but at that point you were far too tired - you just got into a cab.

You didn't even stop walking to hear what he was saying.

Oh, don't let Phoebe's words get to you. You thought to yourself.

She's nothing but a fresh graduate student who (swears) that she has never had a boyfriend her entire life. What does she know of love?

You pried your attention away from your laptop, staring at Phoebe straight in the eyes - in a tone that you have used with witnesses. "Even if Harvey Specter likes me in the way that you're pointing out, it doesn't matter because I don't care." You lied.

"- and you should go back to work." You pointed at the door.

And she stands up with a huff.

"Close the door on your way out!"

"Whatever!"

Goddamn, Phoebe!

Her words echoed in your mind, memories of that gala keep repeating - it was three months ago for Christ's sake. You still remember every detail albeit a little blurry.

Harvey was trying to reach out to you, but at that point, you had already drunk too much whiskey, everything was happening in slow motion. It was raining, your car was nowhere to be found and Phoebe already called a cab to get you home - at that time, you didn't have the capacity or sanity to discuss a case with Harvey, so you just left.

You prayed that Harvey would just think that you didn't hear him. It would hurt his ego, yes, but he always deserves a little humbling.

But now your mind is just repeating that scenario.

What if he wanted to talk about something else?

What if he wanted to be friends? More than friends?

"What the fuck am I talking about?" You mumbled to yourself while fishing for the car keys inside of your purse. It was already twelve midnight. You were probably the last person inside the damn building. A yawn escapes your mouth as you walked through the dark corridors of Pearson Hardman, but to your surprise the lights to Harvey's office are open and his door was slightly ajar.

Phoebe's words come crashing towards you again. There is only one way to know, and that is to ask. Well, not ask but most certainly try to feel around, you argued with yourself.

Your feet taking you towards the direction of his office.

"Harvey, are you still there?" You knocked on his door.

"What is it?" He inquires while blowing his nose.

You paused for a second. Your eyes trailed back and forth between Harvey and the tissue in his hand presumably filled with snot. You have been working together for ten years and this is the first time that you've seen him sick. "I was about to leave but I saw that you were still here, so I'm just giving a heads up." You informed.

He sneezes once more, and you tilt your body towards the side - dodging the pathogens. "Are you sure that you're capable of going home?" You inquired with concern. He probably has a driver...

"Why wouldn't I be?" He shakes his head, his tone a little kinder.

"You look like you're about to die." You answered bluntly.

His eyes were puffy and his nose was red. On top of that, he was pale as a ghost - haunting you with his whiteness.

"You would like that, wouldn't you?" He chided.

You began to march in his direction, placing a hand on his forehead. The sudden proximity a little intimidating but still somewhat normal.

"You're going down with a fever," you said with certainty.

Your eyes trail towards his features, watching as his lips press into a thin line and his eyebrows merge together in frustration. It must feel horrible being sick during Q3 (which was the most important quarter in Pearson Hardman as all of your clients seem to get sued this season of the year). "You should take the day off tomorrow," you advised, almost surprised to hear these words escape your tongue.

You haven't had a decent conversation with Harvey for years. Well, you haven't spoken to him at all beyond business.

"As far as I'm concerned you're not Jessica and you can't tell me what to do." He shoves your advice down the drain, opting to return to the piles of paperwork sitting on his desk.

Oh yeah, stubborn is also a word you would use to describe him. Once he has his mind focused on something, it takes unstoppable force to pry him away. Heck, Phoebe calls him an immovable object referencing a reel that Donna sent to her. God, reels are awful.

"Suit yourself," you shrugged while turning around to leave.

"Goodbye," his voice is surprisingly soft.

No, this is just my mind playing tricks on me!

"Bye," you forced yourself to reply before shutting the glass doors behind you. Hopefully, he'll be better tomorrow - or else Jesicca will begin to realize that you aren't doing that much in the office.

You chuckle at the thought.

It was a stressful Friday in Pearson Hardman.

All Fridays are stressful in Pearson Hardman.

It was the last week of the month which meant that the accountant was going to come and audit the entire firm. Of course, the firm wasn't doing anything illegal per se but the accountant's presence did rattle Louis who would otherwise not be bothering you. "You didn't tell me that the check bounced," Louis barges into your office.

Jesus, you should really hire a secretary.

"I told you that we received an NSF Check but the client came and paid their dues in cash." You groaned. He isn't even the company accountant and he's going crazy over these small details. "You should have listed that down with the bookkeeper." Louis reminds.

"I did, that was two weeks ago!" You argued.

"Wait, two weeks ago?" Louis halts in his tracks.

"Yeah, and they sent me an email to confirm." You confirmed.

"I'm talking about the Fulgencio case," Louis repeats himself.

Oh right, that case that you made in collaboration with Harvey. It was about the inheritance of his illegitimate child yada yada. "Harvey was the one who handled the payments." You informed. Those checks should have been cashed in yesterday.

Normally you'd be the one dealing with the financial aspects of the case, but given the fact that Harvey was paired up with you - you threw those responsibilities to him. "Which means that you have to talk to him or I'm making Jessica write up a memo," Louis says.

"Why do I have to talk to him? You're the one dealing with the financial things." You complained. Seriously, Louis? Right when I'm about to start writing another contract with fucking Microsoft?

"You're the one who's supposed to co-sign the checks. You carry half of the blame." Louis reminds, and for someone who is Junior Partner - he sure as hell drives a good argument.

"Yeah, sure. I'll get it done Louis." You reassured.

Two things were for sure. You needed to talk to your co-workers with more decorum and that Harvey is seriously in trouble for not cashing those checks in. A groan escapes your mouth, already imagining all the paperwork that you were about to do - on top of that Mr. Fulgencio was probably sipping margaritas in Brazil, unreachable.

[email protected] Did you forget to cash in Mr. Fulgencio's checks? 11:29 pm

[email protected] We have to cash those in because we already recorded them in our books. Please reply with an electronic receipt ASAP. 12:00 pm

[email protected] Good afternoon, just messaging to check in with Mr. Fulgencio's checks. Cash them in ASAP before the weekend. 12:11 pm

"Harvey," you knocked on your co-worker's door.

After dealing with three back-to-back meetings, you expected at least a reply from Harvey, but he hasn't even seened your messages. "Come in," he replied hoarsely. For some miraculous reason, Donna was nowhere to be found in her desk.

It was a little uncharacteristic, concerning even...

"I sent you messages about the checks," you waltzed inside of his office. Momentarily taken aback by the sight of him. He looked bad yesterday and he looks horrible now. He looks like he hasn't slept the entire night - he was basically sleeping on his desk. It's a miracle that an associate has not stumbled upon the sight of him. Well, then again they probably already have. "I'll check it," he mumbled.

"Harvey," you said in a voice that was a little firmer.

You're not a sweet person. You're not the type of person who speaks in a concerned tone, catering to each and every problem that your co-workers face, but Harvey's was a different case. Ten years ago, he marched back into this office as an associate with his own legal secretary and he set the court ablaze. You were going to lie if you said that you didn't feel a tinge of attraction towards him - it was there, flickering like an almost dying star.

Nope, actually, not a dying star because that would mean that the attraction would have blossomed into something else and then died. More like a seed planted on loamy soil - and then someone trampled on the saplings before they grew into fully-formed trees.

Harvey was an almost, an almost turned rival but now he's a maybe?

Again, what the hell are you talking about.

Putting it in simpler terms, you simply cared about Harvey.

"Harvey," you repeated his name again, the realization beginning to settle. You're not the type of person who cares easily, so why do you care about Harvey so much? A real workplace rival would have rejoiced at the sight of him being this sick during the most important day of the most important quarter. But you weren't.

"I'll fix it, whatever it is." He says with certainty, his attention straying.

"You know that resting is not a bad thing, right?" You asked rhetorically. "I'm alright, I'm not sick," Harvey argued while fighting through the sneezes that threatened to make their way.

"Yes, you are," you replied bluntly.

"I have to work, I need to get these papers finished." Harvey rambled.

"It isn't selfish to put yourself first," you told him, taking another step closer until you were standing in front of him, leaning over his desk. "- and let's face it you're not getting any work done. You're only putting the people of this workplace in danger of infection," you persuaded, using words that you knew he'd be persuaded with. He stares at you.

Harvey wouldn't hurt a fly.

He wouldn't even dream of putting anyone's life in danger.

Harvey is a good person. (Bam, another adjective!)

He keeps staring at you, the sunlight casting a glow on his blue irises, and for a moment, you contemplate risking it all... He looks so handsome, basked in the warmth of the sunlight, that you forget everything that happened before. There are only thoughts of him. Harvey's golden curls were kissed by the gods of the sun and his aquamarine eyes proved to be beautiful in contrast to his lips...

His lips that you once dreamed of pressing kisses upon (in the caprice of your youth). Harvey looks like he's thinking of you too, but that thought is snapped away from your mind when he reaches for the telephone on his right, pressing a number that would connect to the phone on Donna's desk. "Yes, Harvey?" You hear Donna's voice from the other side of the call. "I'm going home," he informs.

A smile paints your lips.

How easy he was to persuade.

"Hi, Ray, please take Harvey home." You helped a very sick Harvey into the backseat of his car.

"Of course miss...?"

"(Your Name), oh here's my number - just call me if you need anything." You reached for your pocket, handing him a call card.

"Goodbye, safe driving." You waved.

It was already early morning when Ray Benghazi called your phone. "Hello, who is this?" Your voice was hoarse and your throat felt dry. Your eyebrows merged together in confusion, this was your personal phone number and not a lot of people knew about it.

"Atty. (Your Name) this is Ray Benghazi. I'm Harvey's driver, and I just called because Mr. Specter hasn't replied to my texts. He's supposed to attend a conference in the Hamptons, but his car needed some repairs, so I'm tied up in the mechanics. I was wondering if you could check up on him? I'm sorry, I just don't know the phone numbers of Harvey's other friends." Ray rambled off.

From his tone, you could make out his embarrassment and concern.

"Oh sure, just send me his address." You agreed.

"Thank you so much, I will text it to you, ma'am." He responded.

Harvey Specter, the things I do for you.

The sun was already beginning to shine when you reached Harvey's apartment. This will be your first time seeing him beyond work and work-related events and the circumstances were strangely domestic. Harvey is not the type of person who befriended people outside of work - and yet, here you were. You stopped at the threshold, your hands dancing against the metal button of his doorbell.

Is this a good time? You found yourself asking.

Ding dong! The doorbell echoed from inside his apartment.

Maybe he's still sleeping - or maybe he has company. He's probably fine, I shouldn't have come here. But, he could also not be fine and that would be a bigger problem -

"Hey, what are you doing here?" Harvey's eyebrows merged together. He was wearing a blue Eagles T-shirt paired with red sweatpants. It was seldom that he wore anything other than his silk-pressed suits. "Ray called me and told me to check up on you," you informed while raising your phone to show him the shadow of a text message.

He presses a hand to his face, chuckling. "Sorry, I wasn't able to reply to his messages but I decided to not attend the event. No need to worry," he whispers the last sentence. "I'm not accusing you of worrying about me," he is quick to correct and his phrase makes you laugh. Oh, you wouldn't be here if you weren't worried about him. You wouldn't have even woken up to Ray Benghazi's phone call at 4am if you weren't a bit worried about Harvey Specter.

"Why would I worry about you?" You tease and his face falls slightly.

"Do you want to come inside?" He offers. "- I was sick, so don't come in unless you have a fear of microbes." He opens the door slightly, prompting you to follow after him. "I don't care about that. I only mentioned the infection thingie because I know you'd care," you say.

"Good, I've never seen you wear a mask before." He says sarcastically.

"Please, I've never been sick before." You scoffed while sitting on the stool beside his breakfast nook. "Yep, the sniffling you were doing in January was just allergy season." He rolled his eyes.

"I didn't think that you were the one to keep score, Specter." You bantered while watching him make coffee. Your eyebrows merged together - you don't really drink coffee. You were more of a matcha person (ever since your aunt who had a vacation in Japan came back with matcha, you were hooked). "I don't keep score?" he scoffs.

He places a purple mug in front of you.

"I don't drink coffee," you gave him a polite smile.

"It's hojicha. It's not matcha but..." he shrugs and you freeze. How the fuck does he know about my hyperfixation on matcha? "Jessica brought those back when she came from Japan, but I'm not much of a tea connoisseur." He continues speaking.

"You don't look like the type," you mumbled while taking a sip of tea. "Your ancestors did throw tea on some river, or was it the ocean?" You pretended to be clueless about American history and he replies with an amused chuckle. "Whatever you say," he takes a sip of his coffee. His eyes on the city skyline in front of him.

"I hope that I don't owe you one - for checking up on me." He stops to look at you, his eyes trailing back and forth between your eyes and your lips. He met you ten years ago inside a cramped office in Pearson Hardman, clawing your way to the position that you have now - and he always admired you. Always found you beautiful, educated and interesting but way out of his league.

"Please, you owe me for another thing." You smiled.

You know almost everything about every topic in the world. You're able to connect with Jessica and her love for watching tennis. You're able to connect with Donna and her love for fashion - almost everyone is absolutely engrossed in you, including him.

"Other thing?" He tilts his head.

He doesn't even purposefully do it, but he overhears your conversations with other people, and suddenly, he remembers all your likes and dislikes. Sometimes, he uses that information to tease you - but oftentimes it just sits in his head, stagnant, waiting to be used. He doesn't even know what to call your relationship - more than co-workers but less than friends? More than friends but less than lovers? He knows that he cares though.

"The checks. You forgot to cash the checks in." You lightly remind him of the checks with Mr. Fulgencio. "Oh, shit." He winces.

"How will I ever make it up to you? Patron saint of checks?" He teases. "Hmm," you pressed a finger to your lips.

"- I don't want to cash in that check yet." You winked.

Just as you said that word, it began to rain.

"Oh shit," you cursed, watching the strong blip blop of the raindrops. "Did you walk here?" Harvey asks.

You answer with a nod, mentally cursing yourself.

"I'll take an Uber home, it was nice hanging out with you." You smiled. Goodness sake, who says hanging out? You cursed yourself again.

"No, you should stay," Harvey insists adamantly. "It would be rude to send you home; it's raining cats and dogs outside." He points at his open window. It is pouring heavily, and you are wearing sandals. That sensation, along with the dirty stress of NYC, must be awful.

He forces a thin-lipped smile on his face.

"Just for a little while," he argued.

"Fine," you relented.

The both of you tiptoed in the direction of his home theater. It wasn't a grand home theater per se, but there were about eight couches all sitting in front of a big screen. The room was dark, only illuminated by downcast lights - and the room was cold, like you were inside of a freezer. "I didn't know you were this rich," you teased.

"We have the same salary," he rolled his eyes, both of you sitting down on the couch farthest from the screen. "But not the same bonuses," you argued. "Yes, you get more." He banters, earning a giggle from you. "I do not," you shook your head.

"Louis told me," he reaches for the remote, handing it to you.

"I'm gonna sue him," you mumbled.

"Choose a movie," he says while leaning down on the couch. "If you have a home movie theater that must mean you're real picky in the movies that you watch." You made an observation.

Heck, this streaming platform was the one worth $10k. Does Harvey know anything about fiscal responsibility? "Choose one and see if I'll judge you," he breathes, pulling a blanket over his body - the blanket which he must've accidentally also pulled over your lap.

"I feel pressured," you say.

"Princess Bride?" you asked while hovering over the button.

"Sure," he agrees while opening a pack of chips, offering them to you.

You Hey, thank you so much for today!!

Harvey Specter (cell) I thought I was supposed to say that Thanks for staying in and watching movies with me Seen. 12:22 pm.

Harvey Specter (cell) I was thinking that maybe we should have dinner sometimes? Seen. 11:11 pm.

You And when exactly is *sometimes*?

Harvey Specter (cell) Tomorrow, 5pm. Carrizima's? I'll pick you up. Seen. 11:12pm.

You Sure, I'll give Ray my address.

There were many benefits to having a stable job, one of them included luxury shopping - and boy, did you do that a lot, to the point that your sales associate had you on speed dial for limited edition items. "You're going on a fucking date? We cheered!" Phoebe chided.

"I guess it is kinda a date." You agreed.

You didn't even want to sugarcoat Harvey's invitation, the both of you are grown humans and it would be uncharacteristic to tiptoe like teenagers. But, that didn't mean that you were going to drape yourself all over him, it was just a date - meaning, the both of you want to test the waters. If there's some sort of compatibility.

"I guess that means my shipping days with Harvey Specter are over," Phoebe sighed. Yes, you learned that the word 'shipping' meant creating a romantic pairing of two people in slang. Phoebe says that she has been shipping you with Harvey for quite some time now. When she finds out that you are going on a date with Harvey, she is going to freak out - but, you don't have to tell her.

Phoebe and Donna know everything about everyone. What's the problem with withholding this information from her? It'll be funny and she'll find out about the date soon enough. "Tell me about the guy that you're going on a date with. Is he handsome?" She asked.

"Oh yeah, and he's not like those boys on social media that you like. He has a real job," you teased your associate. "What job?" She continued prying as your sales associate, Georgina, placed a stack of dresses on the clothes rack. "He's a lawyer," you confirmed.

Hoping that Phoebe would be able to piece the two things together.

"Damn, he's handsome and a lawyer. Harvey will be so jealous." Phoebe giggled. "You should wear this dress," she pointed at the white dress that reached past your knees. "- you should be very demure in your attack." She advises.

"Spoken from the mouth of a girl who has never had a boyfriend," you rolled your eyes while stepping inside of the dressing room. Thank you, Georgina for getting me a private room, you say.

"I have read a lot of books!" Phoebe defended herself.

The restaurant that Harvey chose was spectacular. It had the perfect aesthetic of Venice, curated with each decoration in beautiful taste, it felt real and authentic, not like the restaurants in Times Square which were obvious tourist traps.

You wearing a white floral Erdem shirt dress with cute Bresson lace sleeves, merging in with the restaurant's aesthetics. On your right, two young French couples were looking longingly into each other's eyes, and on your left, there was an older couple - doing the exact same thing. Your gaze returns to Harvey.

Where does that leave you and Harvey in this visual metaphor?

"I've never been here before," your eyes trailed against the restaurant's beautiful interior. "- ten years living in New York and not once..." you chuckled, wondering how this beautiful restaurant was able to eclipse your radar. "It's a hidden gem," He replies.

The first time that Harvey visited this place was with Jessica, where she begged him to return back to the firm. After that entire scandal in the D.A.'s office with Cameron Dennis, he hasn't really had the opportunity to revisit this restaurant - the restaurant that marked new beginnings for him. "I'm sorry about forgetting to take care of the checks. I already sent an email to Fulgencio's assistant, and don't worry I already talked to the accountant." He explained.

"Everybody makes mistakes, and you were sick, which meant that you weren't exactly yourself." You comforted, taking his apology.

The waiter places both of your dishes on the table, and you mumble a quick thanks. There was a moment of silence between you, only broken by the sound of jazz music playing in the background.

"I like your dress," he compliments shyly - reminding you of young love. A type of love that you missed out on in your youth due to the pursuit of greatness. The sound of him is refreshing. "Your tie doesn't look so bad," you teased while taking a sip of your merlot.

He places a hand on his tie.

"This is a special tie," his eyebrows merged together in mockery.

"I've never seen you wear that tie before," you scoffed.

"I've never had a special day," he defends himself while twirling the strands of pasta around his fork, taking a bite of bolognese. "- and why would today be a special day?" You raised an eyebrow.

Harvey freezes, but just for a split second.

He has thought about this scenario almost a hundred times. When he's washing his hair in the shower, he can't help but imagine what it would feel like to make this real, to confess feelings of attraction that he has kept buried for the past decade, masking it up with banter and stealing each other's clients. But now sitting in front of you, sandwiched between a young and an old couple - he cannot help but feel taken aback. What if you end up being like his mother? What if he loves you so much, he ends up like his father?

"- because we're having dinner together." He replies automatically.

You are not going to be like his mother. He's spent ten years in an office with you, kept his feelings hidden, settled with banter because he is terrified. Harvey Specter is terrified of confessing his feelings and losing one of the only friends that he has. He's terrified of you feeling the same way and watching you unfold under the weight of his anxiety, and he doesn't know if those fears hold no merit now.

He's scared, overthinking a simple sentence - overthinking this dinner, and on the outside - overthinking is not Harvey Specter's brand. He's confident, smug, aloof, but he is not. He's tired of being called smart, he's just scared. He's scared that without his law degree, without his work in Pearson Hardman, he's just a nobody with divorced parents who'll probably never experience real love.

"Harvey, are you alright?" Your voice suddenly sounded airy.

He takes a deep breath, feeling his chest constrict for a second. He continues staring at your face, allowing the light to lead him to peace. "Yes," he answers with a smile on his face.

He takes another deep breath.

In. Out. In. Out.

His heart is thumping furiously, he cannot think straight, but he knows exactly what he is supposed to do. "I'll be straightforward," he cleared his throat. "Yes?" You raised an eyebrow, the world continued happening beside you - but your attention was only focused on him.

The sound of the jazz band playing, the taste of the wine on your tongue, the casual conversation happening behind you - it all got drowned out because Harvey was the only thing worthy of your attention right now. "The thought of you makes me smile. I wake up everyday anticipating your morning remarks, because I find you funny and beautiful and interesting. I like you." Harvey confessed, he sat tall and confident, not for once second doubting himself.

There was another round of silence between you.

His face changes slightly, merging into confusion when you began laughing.

Laughing hard and uncontrollably.

"Is this funny to you?" He returns back to his cocky self.

"No, no, I find it - hilarious." You wiped away tears of joy.

"I planned this entire thing with a helicopter, and I was about to tell you that I liked you too." You professed a shocked smile paints his lips. "Damn," he leans on his chair.

Damn indeed.

GIRL'S GROUPCHAT

Phoebe Ya'll will never guess who (Your Name) is dating.

Donna who?

Phoebe Ya'll will never guess

Rachel You dunno, do you?

Phoebe Uhh no but I know he works in Pearson Hardman She sent me a picture and I swear he was holding a folder A YELLOW FOLDER WITH OUR FIRM'S LOGO

Donna seems like this is a mystery we're supposed to solve

Rachel It's intriguing ...

#harvey specter x reader #harvey specter fanfics #harvey specter x you #suits fanfic #harvey specter #suits #harvey specter fanfic #harvey specter imagine #harvey specter smut #x reader

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