#note to self look up this photographer later

[mistiell]

We Keep this Love in a Photograph

summary: since Joel gifted you a polaroid camera for your birthday, you've developed a habit of sneaking pictures of him whenever possible. He doesn't think he's worth the film "wasted" (His words, not yours), but after catching you looking over your accumulated gallery, you manage to win him over.

wc: 1.1k

warnings: tooth rotting fluff, Joel's a little self conscious, Reader's gender isn't specified, and they have hair but the length isn't specified either. If I accidentally did use a gendered term, lmk and I shall fix it. <3 NOT PROOFREAD (will likely come back to fix any mistakes later)

a/n: HOLY SHIT I'M BACK!!! This fic was inspired by this TikTok. I saw it and the Joel obsession possessed me so viscerally I had to make a comeback lmao.

**NOTE: I've linked ways to help Palestine here. If you're in a position to donate anything at all, please do! If not, you can reblog the post that's linked so it gets out to more people.

---

It started on your birthday.

You’d shared with Joel one evening, wrapped warm and snug in his arms within your soft haven of sheets, during one of those late night conversations where vulnerability doesn’t seem like a thing so daunting, that you used to love photography. Loved immortalizing things you loved or things you found beautiful. He’d asked what kind of camera you’d had, what kind of things you usually took pictures of.

“Polaroid.” you’d told him softly, fighting you keep your eyes open with his tracing shapes into the curve of your waist. “And I already told you. Whatever I found beautiful.”

The morning of your birthday, you woke to the smell of coffee and a clumsily wrapped box sitting on your bedside table with a note taped to the top; Happy birthday, honey. Love, Joel. And in smaller print near the bottom left corner; P.S. Wait until I’m here to open it. Wanna see your face.

You’d smiled, bashful, brushed your teeth in record time, scooped up the box, and made your way downstairs towards the sound sizzling and the tapping of a spatula on a pan. He gave you a good morning kiss, pretended to make a fuss about waiting until after breakfast to open it and watched with a smile as you carefully tore it open, popped off the lid, and visibly softened at first sight of the contents.

It was a polaroid camera. Coincidentally, the very same one you’d had twenty years ago.

You’d cried, he’d panicked. You hugged him so fiercely, any worry that he’d fucked the whole thing vanished as he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and held you close.

That was months ago, and in the time since, you’ve accumulated quite the gallery. You take pictures of just about anything and everything, but your main muse is Joel.

Which is what’s led you to have half a shoe box full of polaroid of mostly him. He’s no idea of your little stash, and you intend to keep it that way. You’ve come to learn he’s got a thing about being photographed. Always nitpicking his appearance no matter what you say. He asks sometimes when he catches you why you don’t choose something nicer to look at, and your answer is generally always the same. There is nothing nicer. He walks into a room, and all you want to look at is him. Yeah, he’s got some more lines, got some more meat on his bones, his hair is a little more grey than it is brown these days. But he doesn’t see it the way you do.

He’s got crows feet and smile lines etched almost as deep as the crease between his brows. He looks healthy now that he’s actually got food to eat, meals you’re both sure to share every morning in your kitchen and every evening in the dining hall. His greys are a tangible reminder that he’s alive, that he’s survived, and that he now gets to live, and you’re incomprehensibly grateful for every russet strand turned silver. He’s all the more beautiful for all of it. And here, tucked into your armchair, polaroid pinched between thumb and forefinger, you get to commit every little detail picked up by your camera to memory.

Your gaze follows the sloping curve of his lovely nose, profile softened by the sun shining white behind. It’s only one half of his face, but the beaming smile he’s sporting makes you feel whole. His hair was just starting to get longer, then, curling near his nape and flicking round his ears to kiss his jaw.

“What’s all this?” You startle, head leaning into the plush back of the chair to look at him upside down as you press the pictures into your diaphragm. He seems curious, if a little confused.

Caught, you swallow, “If I said nothing, would you believe me?”

“Not for a second.” He smiles teasingly, bending to give you a quick peck, bottom lip warm where it slots between yours. Your hold on the photos loosens, and when his gaze dips to them, the smile shifts into something closer to a frown, a little cagey, “S’ that me?”

“Yeah.” You answer simply, before joking tentatively, “Swear I’m not a creep. You’re just pretty.”

“See now, that’s exactly what a creep would say.” He teases, and you’re glad for it – that he’s not upset. Rounding the chair, he sits on the arm, elbow propped up on the soft back of it and knuckles warm on the nape of your neck.

“Pretty.” He echoes, blowing a short puff of air out his nose, “Never been called that before.”

“Well, you are.”

He smiles again, bashful and a little disbelieving. There’s a short moment where he just looks at you like that, backs of his fingers sliding down your spine a few notches then back up in a tender line before he juts his chin toward your collection. “Show me?”

Warmth blooms in your stomach and fizzes up behind your sternum. You grin, handing him the one you were holding before sifting through the shoe box for your best works. He accepts your compliments and sweet talking reluctantly, but hangs onto your every word as you describe where you were, what you were doing, what made you sneak the picture in the first place.

You start to worry his limited responses mean he’s gotten caught up in his head until his hand slides up the side of your neck and settles over the side of your head, the warmth of his calloused palm encompassing the entirety of your ear as he guides your temple to his lips.

“Love you.” He murmurs into your hair, and the warmth sizzles like its carbonated, bubbling and burbling within the cage of your ribs.

You turn your face, slip your fingers beneath the curtain of hair at his nape and lift your chin to kiss him soft and slow. He rubs an affectionate line into the soft skin behind your hear as he hums, vibrations thrumming against your lips.

You lean back just enough to murmur, “I love you to.”

He smiles, kisses you again. And again. And once more. He asks you to show him more of your pictures, and you oblige. It’s early evening when you’re finally through, at which point Ellie’s come home and Joel’s started on dinner. You let her sift through the polaroids while you move to join Joel at the counter.

You won’t realize until later that she’s snuck a photo of the two of you by the stove, Joel’s large palm on the small of your back where you’ve taken over stirring a pot, gazing at you like you’re the only thing he’d like to listen to for the rest of his days as you talk and talk and talk.

That one, he hangs on the fridge.

[youunravelme]

the worst wing-woman

author's note: just like all my other fics, we are existing in an alternate plane where tito was never traded. also i've never worked for the nhl, so i have no idea how accurate being a photographer is but guess what. idgaf. also sorry for the amount of italics in this fic, i have no self control apparently. and shoutout to my new friend @dani746 for helping me with this monstrosity.

summary: you've been in love with mat barzal for as long as you can remember, so what do you do when he asks for your help to win over your friend?

pairing: mat barzal x islanders photographer!reader

warnings: cursing and low self esteem

despite working for the isles for two years now, you still got nervous walking into work.

you weren't a stranger to the team, some of them you knew quite well. anders and marty being two players you were friendly with (mainly due to the fact that you were somewhat friendly with their wives). but there was always one player who eluded you, who you'd only ever had professional interactions with.

mathew barzal.

and it shouldn't be surprising, you were a measly photographer whereas he was the star player of his team, the winner of the calder trophy, an nhl heartthrob. why should he pay attention to you?

media day was one of your favorite days, mainly because it was the closest you ever got to holding full conversations with him. not that the conversations went anything beyond "look right here" or "great job, mat."

you didn't even think he knew your name.

the longest conversation you had with him consisted of him asking to see the photos you took and patting you on your back when he liked what he saw before he went off to talk to tito.

"you having a good day?" you nearly jumped a foot in the air when your staring was cut off by anders walking up to you.

"yeah," you said when your heartbeat returned to normal. "just busy is all." you held your camera up as if that was enough of an explanation.

anders nodded. "any of the boys giving you a hard time?"

you shook your head rapidly. "nope, they've all been on their best behavior."

"even barzy and beauvillier?" at the mention of their names, the duo turned their heads and locked eyes with you and anders.

you wanted to dig a hole and die in it.

"what about us?" mat asked, sauntering over with his best friend right behind him.

"you haven't been giving her a hard time, have you?" anders crossed his arms. and if you weren't panicking at the closing distance between you and mat, you might've noticed the shared smirk between the three hockey players in front of you.

"us?" tito asked. "why would you think that? we've only ever been angels."

before anders could ask you to corroborate tito's story, your name was called. you awkwardly waved to the three men before walking over to another set of props, ready to photograph another hockey player.

"done embarrassing yourself?" your coworker tyler asked.

you lightly shoved his shoulder. "shut up."

"seriously, you're not his type," he added. "he's not gonna go for you."

tyler might as well have stabbed you in the gut with how much his words hurt you, but you put a smile on and nodded. "yeah, i know. i know."

and you did.

you knew.

but you'd be delusional for a little while longer if it meant going to work wouldn't suck every day.

later that night, you found yourself at a bar with a group of your friends. you didn't want to go originally, but when alexa said she needed to go out to get over her ex, you felt like you had no other choice.

which is how you found yourself sipping a soda water in a booth while your friends danced and took body shots.

your gaze wandered around the bar aimlessly before you checked your phone for the time.

you'd only been there for an hour.

it took all self restraint not to bang your head against the table.

"having fun?" your head snapped up at the familiar voice only to see anthony beauvillier standing at the edge of your booth with a self satisfied smirk.

"i--"

"i didn't take you as one to go out drinking on a weeknight," he said.

you slumped into your seat. "i'm not. my friend alexa wanted to go out because her boyfriend just dumped her and she wanted a distraction."

anthony took the seat opposite of you. "and that is...?" he gestured at your drink.

"soda water," you answered. "i'm the DD for tonight."

"oof," he groaned before taking a sip of his beer. "that's rough."

you shrugged. "it's not that bad, i'd rather my friends get home safe than get drunk and show up to work hungover."

anthony nodded in a way that you'd seen other men do, the type of nod that comes right before someone looks around for someone more interesting to talk to.

"but what about you?" you rushed out, nearly tripping over your own words.

tito smiled. "what about me?"

"why're you here?"

he shrugged. "mat wanted to come out and didn't want to go out alone, so here i am."

mat.

you wanted to vomit.

"oh," you mumbled. "mat's here?"

tito nodded and gestured with his bottle to the bar. "he's over there talking to some brunette."

you followed with your eyes and when you finally locked eyes on him, you wished you hadn't.

he was talking to alexa, smiling at her the way you wished he'd smile at you.

maybe you could leave the bar and get hit by a taxi on the way out, that would be less painful than seeing the man you're in love with flirt with your friend.

"you okay?" anthony asked, nudging your leg with his foot.

you turned your gaze back to him and attempted to give him your most convincing smile. "i'm great!" you said before throwing your soda water back and coughing when the carbonation burned.

anthony didn't say a word.

when you looked back at the bar, alexa was nowhere to be found while mat was fiddling with one of his wristbands. you looked around to find alexa, thinking maybe she was in the crowd dancing or perhaps she was in line for the bathroom.

but she popped up at your table, sweaty and smiling.

"you good?" she asked before fixing her eyes on anthony who was sipping on his beer. "who's this?"

"anthony. i know him from work." tito gave her a small wave before taking another sip of his beer.

"alexa," she smiled before her attention focused back on you. "i actually met one of your coworkers, mat right?"

you forced a smile and nodded. "the one and only. what did you think?" though, to be fair, you didn't really want to know her opinion on him. not when you thought the world of him.

alexa shrugged and tossed her perfect hair over her perfect shoulder and gave a perfect smile that was a healthy balance of nonchalant and mildly interested. "he was alright, he knows he's attractive which is rather unattractive if you ask me."

tito choked on his beer while you stared in awe.

of all the words you'd use to describe mat, "alright" was not even close to the top 25.

"something funny?" alexa asked.

"nope," tito supplied, shaking his head. "nothing at all."

alexa looked at him, unconvinced, but didn't let it bother her. "i'm gonna go dance, you coming?" she asked.

you shook your head. "not really my scene."

alexa nodded and pranced off to the dance floor where the rest of your friends were grinding on strangers to the tune of some 2000s pop song.

"she's a delight," tito said.

you sighed. "she's practically miss america." you were too busy staring at her having fun to notice another person walk up to your booth until he was standing right in front of you with a question posed on the tip of his lips.

mat.

your mouth went dry at the sight of him.

"you know her?" he gestured over his shoulder to where alexa was laughing with one of your friends.

you nodded.

"are you two close?"

you shrugged.

mat sighed. "are you capable of speaking?"

tito spoke up. "mat, you just bombarded her without a single hello, chill."

mat pinched the bridge of his nose. "sorry, i just--she rejected me and i don't know why."

"you're too attractive and you know it," you blurted out before you could stop yourself. you quickly slapped a hand over your mouth like that would stop any other bullshit that might come out.

mat tilted his head and leaned in. "huh?"

"her words, not mine," you said like it would absolve you of any guilt.

"what do you mean by being 'too attractive' and 'knowing it'? how does that even make sense?"

you shrugged for what felt like the twelfth time that night. "alexa's not really into guys who are obsessed with their appearances. she just got out of a relationship with a guy like that," you explained.

mat ran a hand down his face before placing both hands on his waist. "so what do you suggest i do?" he groaned.

"i--"

he snapped his fingers and looked at you for what felt like the first time. it sent a chill down your spine that you had a problem suppressing. "can you help me?"

your mouth dropped open. "huh?"

"you're friends, right? can you help me win her over?"

you could list about a thousand other things you'd rather do. you could think of five just off the top of your head.

but he looked so earnest and willing and how could anyone possibly resist him when he looked at you like that--

"of course!" you smiled.

of course?! yes would've sufficed but now you've got him thinking you'd enjoy this. which you most certainly wouldn't.

oh who were you kidding? all attention was good attention when it came to mat barzal and you'd give anything to keep him looking at you.

"thank you!" he smiled before clapping tito on the shoulder. "ready to head out?"

anthony nodded before addressing you. "i had a nice time. see you tomorrow?"

you smiled and nodded, giving them both a small wave as they walked away. the second they were out the door, you thumped your head against the table.

playing wing-woman for mathew barzal.

what the fuck was wrong with you?

how to be a wing-woman: a guide

usually when you went to work, you kept your head down and stayed out of the way. occasionally, you'd run into anders or marty, or maybe even tito, who would say their polite hellos, but for the most part you stayed out of the way during practices.

you were looking at the photos you just took when someone banged on the glass. a quick glance (that turned into a double take) let you figure out it was mat based on the 13 on his jersey and the fact that you could pick him out of a crowd anywhere.

he waved and smiled (and you might've died inside). "can i talk to you after practice?"

you nodded frantically before gaining a semblance of self respect and slowing down.

"great! meet you outside of the locker rooms!" he said before skating away.

"what was that about?" tyler asked. you turned, not even realizing he'd made his way towards you considering you thought he was on the other side of the arena.

"what? can't i talk to the players?"

tyler laughed. actually laughed. "considering barzal has never so much as looked at you, i'd say him approaching you during practice is pretty strange."

your shoulders sunk at the weight of the truth. "if you must know," you started. "he wants to date one of my friends, so i'm helping him out."

tyler laughed again and walked away without saying another word while you scrolled through the photos you took again until practice ended.

you headed towards the locker rooms only when the last player had been off the ice for ten minutes, you didn't want to chance waiting around too long looking like an idiot.

as you waited, you made a mental note of all the editing you'd have to do when you got back to your cubicle. you got a few good shots earlier, but they'd need some tweaking before you sent them to the social media team. in fact--

"hey, what're you doing here?" you glanced up and saw anders, hair wet from whatever brief shower he took.

you shrugged, not sure if it was your place to give away mat's intentions. "just waiting around."

"for?" he pushed.

"barzy needs her to play wing-woman," tito said from over anders' shoulders. "he wants to get with her friend, but her friend isn't interested."

anders threw his head back and laughed. "barzy not getting a girl? that's fucking hilarious."

tito smirked. "tell him what your friend said" he told you.

"she doesn't like that he knows he's attractive," you mumbled.

if it was even possible, anders laughed even louder. "un-fucking-believable."

"what's so funny?" mat walked up, running a hand through his damp hair.

you said "nothing" at the same time anders asked "you got rejected, barzy?"

mat's face dropped before looking at you and tito accusingly. anthony sighed and nudged his best friend. "chill out, barz. she didn't bring it up, i did."

mat's shoulders relaxed before he punched tito in the arm. "dick," he mumbled.

anders looked between the three of you and sighed. "i don't have time for this shit," he said. "i'll see you later." and he was off down the hallway.

"so what's the plan for today?" tito asked.

"you're not included," mat said. his gaze focused on you. "can i have your number?"

you blinked. "what?"

mat laughed a little and you could feel heat and shame running up your spine. he asked you one fucking question and you had to go act like a weirdo. "so i can text you? i think we should sit down and create a strategy."

you nodded and read off your number as he typed it into his phone. "great," he gave you his megawatt smile. "i'll text you."

"okay," you breathed out as he walked away without a thought.

tito kept standing there, smirking to himself. "you're so fucked," he said.

you nodded because there was nothing else to say.

step one: talk him up

you and mat got lunch two days later on a saturday when he didn't have a game. it was rather surreal, sitting across from him in public. the delusional part of you was begging you to imagine this as a date instead of a meeting to set your friend up with mat.

when did your life turn into something so pathetic?

"okay," he started. "tell me about your friend."

you would rather do anything else.

"she just got out of a long term relationship with this guy named jared. he was a bit self absorbed which is probably why she didn't like you knowing how hot you are." you paused as the words left your mouth, ready to set yourself on fire if he reacted. but he didn't, he only leaned in closer to listen. "she uh--she likes daffodils and goes to the farmer's market at union square every saturday."

"but what's she like?" he asked. "what's her personality?"

how would you say she's the trademarked cool girl? the girl every guy wanted, that mat was one man in a long list of men who tried and failed to win her over.

"she's sweet and affectionate," you started. "she pretty girly on the outside but knows her way around a car. she grew up with three older brothers so she knows a fair bit about sports, just not hockey, but if you wanted to talk stats about football or basketball, she's your girl. in college, she held the record for fastest shotgun in her sorority."

you racked your brain for more information about your friend, but it was difficult under pressure to sum up someone you'd known since freshman year of college.

"what else?" mat asked.

"she's a bit of a partier, but knows how to settle down and just chill. she's a really good friend, like last year i dated this guy who was cheating on me the entire duration of our relationship, which i should've known about because he said he had to go on business trips all the time but he worked as a barista, and she held me while i cried for three days straight and even threatened to fuck up his car."

mat stared at you without saying anything in a way that made you want to sink into a hole, never to be seen again. "you dated a barista and thought he needed to go on business trips?"

you blinked. "that's what you got from that? me dating a shitty barista?"

he shrugged. "i heard everything else, but that was definitely the funniest part. how long did you date him?"

"six months," you replied quickly. "but that's not the point! alexa is going to play hard to get because she doesn't want anything too serious right now."

"great! neither do i!"

"but she's not a one night stand kind of girl anymore. so if you want her, you have to prove to her you can be serious enough for a relationship but not serious enough that you get clingy and overbearing and propose within six months."

mat blinked at you. "how the hell does that make sense?"

"believe me, there's a balance."

he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "and you would know this how?"

"well i uh--" you sputtered. your nerves were only encouraged by his light chuckling. "all girls know these things! we don't want overly possessive boyfriends but we also want someone to care. it shouldn't be that hard to comprehend."

"it's not," he defended. "just a little...complicated, don't you think?"

"alexa's a complicated girl!"

he sighed and ran a hand down his face. "okay so how do i show her i mean business but that i'm not looking to settle down and get married?"

"i guess i could talk you up to her in passing conversation?"

"what would you tell her? we don't know each other very well."

"i know more than you think!"

"please, share with the class."

shit.

do you confess that in the two years you'd worked for the islanders that you watched him borderline obsessively?

"well, i know you're good with kids, if your interactions with young fans is anything to go by. you don't like dogs, which is a bit of a red flag in my book, but alexa shouldn't mind. you're a fantastic hockey player, and a great teammate."

"is that enough to convince her?"

you grimaced and shook your head. "she's a bit more personable. she one time broke up with a guy because he was rude to waitstaff. she would want to know how you treat non millionaires and authority figures. for instance, how much do you tip a server?"

"25%," he replied. "but why does that matter?"

"alexa used to be a server throughout college and couldn't stand people who she knew had money but would cheap out on the tip because she didn't greet them fast enough."

mat opened his mouth, presumably to ask another question, when his phone started ringing. "shit," he mumbled. "listen, i gotta go. it was nice talking to you, i'll be in touch." he pulled out a few twenty dollar bills and put them on the table before getting up and walking away.

you waited for the server to come back before paying the bill and told them to keep the change before you got up and walked home.

when you got back to your apartment, alexa was already standing at the door, waiting to be let in.

"finally," she said. "i was wondering when you were gonna come home."

"you could've texted me," you said while unlocking the door.

she followed you inside and shut the door behind her. "i could've, but your phone was on do not disturb for some reason, so i doubt my texts would've gone through in time. where were you anyway?"

"getting lunch with a friend from work," you replied.

alexa groaned as she all but collapsed onto your couch. "please tell me it's not tyler. i hate how he treats you."

you dropped your bag by the door and headed back to your room, but not before calling over your shoulder. "he's not that bad, he's like that to everyone!"

"doesn't make it any better!"

you changed into some comfortable clothing before joining alexa on your couch. "did you have fun the other night when we went out to the bar?"

alexa looked at you weirdly.

shit. you must not have been as subtle as you thought.

"i did," she said. "but what makes you ask."

you shrugged. "i know it's been rough with your breakup lately, but i saw you talking to mat and you looked happy."

alexa groaned and sunk into the couch. "i thought we talked about this already. he knows he's attractive, it's such a turn off. you should've seen the way he was talking, it was like he knew that if he gave me a look, i'd be going home with him."

"well he's really nice, i promise! you should see him with kids at the stadium--"

"you mean the kids who idolize him? yeah i bet he's real nice to them."

okay, switch strategies.

"he tips waitstaff really well!"

"with what he makes? he better." alexa sighed. "listen, i'd be more impressed if he could tell me anything about you, but seeing as you've worked there for two years and he couldn't tell me anything other than your name the other night says all i need to know about him. so can we talk about something else?"

you nodded, ignoring the jutting pain in your chest at her words. you knew well enough that mat knew nothing about you, why would he? but to hear it come from the mouth of someone else stung.

getting them together was gonna be harder than you originally thought.

step two: get them interacting

you were dreading the next time you saw mat for the first time in your life. you were in your cubicle editing photos from the game that night to be posted tomorrow to distract yourself from the inevitable conversation you'd have to have with him. tyler, unfortunately got the shot that was posted immediately to the islanders' instagram account to celebrate their win over the rangers and he had no problem letting you know it. and while it was annoying, it served as a great distraction from your other problem.

"maybe you'll get it next time," he sneered as he packed his bag. most days you hated the fact that you were cubicle neighbors, but neither of you were powerful enough to request moving spaces. and even if you could, you knew it would just make you look hard to work with.

"have a good night, tyler," you replied, not even wanting to give him any ammo to use against you.

the door shut behind him with a click, locking you into sweet sweet silence.

until a minute later when your phone went off with a text message.

mat barzal: where ru?

mat barzal: wanna go to a bar with me and tito and you can bring alexa?

you scoffed. "you can bring alexa," you mocked under your breath. "like that's not the sole reason for you asking me to go out tonight." you packed your bag up and shot a quick text to alexa, asking if she wanted to go out. she replied with an immediate yes, asking where to meet you, which prompted you to reach out to mat who sent you an address in response.

which is how you ended up on a sidewalk in front of an incredibly busy bar with alexa next to you.

"i've never been here," she remarked. "how'd you hear about it?"

"oh, a coworker mentioned it," you said in what was hopefully a nonchalant manner.

she looked at you a moment too long before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. "you find us a place to sit and i'll grab our drinks!" she shouted over the music.

you quickly looked around for mat and tito, the former who'd texted you the second they arrived. you saw a head of dark hair and immediately knew it was mat. you hurried over, panting when you arrived from having to shove your way towards them.

"you made it!" anthony said. you looked at him and mat, eyes bouncing back and forth between them, when you realized your first problem.

they were sitting on opposite sides of the booth.

which meant you would have to sit with one of them, and alexa would have to sit with the other. if mat had it his way, he'd sit next to alexa, but you knew your friend wouldn't have that. she'd feel manipulated and uncomfortable.

"is there a problem?" tito asked.

you gestured to the booth. "alexa will want to sit by me. she's still not convinced about you, mat."

mat, to his credit, didn't look shocked or offended, he just shrugged and moved to tito's side. "this work?" he asked as you sat down.

you nodded.

"so what's the plan? how should i approach this?" he asked.

"keep the conversation on her, when she tries to turn it on you or about your career, focus on other people, applaud your teammates, your coaches, but whatever you do, don't talk about yourself too much. she already thinks you have a big ego."

"to be fair," tito started. "he does."

mat didn't even dignify that with a response. "so keep the conversation on her and others, got it."

alexa found you a moment later and didn't do a great job covering up her disinterest in sitting with mat and beau.

"i couldn't find anywhere to sit," you explained.

alexa didn't buy it if her eyes bouncing around the bar to find empty tables said anything. but she sat next to you anyway, placing your drink in front of you.

"you remember mat and anthony from the other night, right?" you asked.

she just hummed and took a sip of her drink.

"so, alexa," mat started. "what do you do for a living?"

she stared at him and sighed. "i'm a vet tech," she said, but offered no other information.

"she especially loves the cats," you added.

"cats are great!" mat said a little too enthusiastically.

alexa drained the rest of her glass and got up, leaving the three of you behind.

the second she was gone, beau broke into laughter, slapping his own chest. "that was fucking hilarious," he said.

"yeah yeah yeah, laugh it up," mat grumbled, swirling his cup around instead of making eye contact with anyone.

"i'm serious, i don't think i've ever seen you fail so quickly. it's kind of amazing."

mat focused his eyes on you. "what did i do wrong? i tried asking about her life and she seemed wholly uninterested."

you shrugged. "i don't know! maybe she feels cornered?"

tito took a sip of his beer. "i think you need to workshop this. clearly, neither of you thought this through."

you groaned and rested your head on the table.

this was already harder than you anticipated.

step three: reevaluate and regroup

you met mat in a booth of a coffee shop after you got off work. he was staring at his phone when you walked in, completely unaware that you even existed.

which wasn't abnormal considering you didn't even think he knew who you were a few months ago. but the second the barista called your order out, his head whipped up.

you could've sworn time stopped at that moment.

you made your way towards him and plopped down in the booth opposite of him.

"hi," you smiled. "what's up?"

"i don't know what to do, she doesn't seem interested in me." he groaned into his hands before running one of them through his hair.

god he was so attractive.

you snapped out of your reverie. "listen, you've got what it takes, we just need to reevaluate our strategy. i think the bar thing was a bad idea, she felt ambushed and it probably set us back a little, but i have an idea."

he leaned his forearms on the table. "let's hear it."

"practice dates," you said.

mat blinked once. twice. a third time before he spoke. "practice dates?"

"okay hear me out," you said, pulling a notepad out of the bag you brought. "i have a list of things that alexa likes to do and i was thinking, you and i can do them and work on conversations and how to approach her. so when the time comes, you don't feel out of your element."

"who said i feel out of my element?"

you stared at him. "you said last night 'cats are great!' and expected conversation to flow naturally."

"okay so not my best moment."

"not even close." you sighed. "listen, i wanna help you, and i feel like this is your best bet in winning her over."

mat ran a hand down his face. "okay fine. what's the first date?"

practice date one: pumpkin patch

to be quite frank, you were nervous when proposing the idea, scared that he wouldn't be willing to sit in a car with you for three hours just to get to the pumpkin patch. and maybe he would find it childish.

when in fact, he said nothing about the long car ride, he even offered to pick you up from your apartment, and laughed when you offered to pay for gas. when you finally arrived, you jumped out of mat's car like an excited child. mat stepped out like he knew he was the romantic lead in a movie, suave and collected.

you two could not be more opposite of each other.

it took everything in you to focus on the task at hand, and not fall deeper in love with him. but how could you not? when he looked so boyfriend in a coat and flannel and beanie and jeans that hugged his thighs just right--

you were getting ahead of yourself. you were doing this for mat and alexa, not your own selfish ambition.

"so what's the plan?" he asked after locking his car with the key fob.

you shrugged. "what would you do if you were here with alexa?" the words tasted bitter in your mouth. it was such a painful reminder, knowing that this wasn't real and was in service to hook him up with your friend.

mat looked around and shoved his hands in his pockets. "corn maze?" he pointed. you must've made a face because he spoke up again. "what?"

"alexa hates corn mazes."

he paused. "to the pumpkin patch then?" you nodded and followed his lead. "so how did you meet alexa?"

"she was my first roommate in college, we shared the smallest dorm in history."

"that sounds like an exaggeration."

"says the man who never went to college."

he laughed. "i don't need a college education to identify a hyperbole when i hear one."

you gasped and looked at him with wide eyes. "a hyperbole? what a word."

"laugh it up," he said. "but i'm not a complete idiot, you know."

"never said you were. i just haven't heard anyone use hyperbole in a sentence outside of my english lit classes."

"well, you should know i'm full of surprises."

the two of you approached the pumpkin patch and started weaving between families and the occasional rogue toddler. mat had to tug you out of the way a few times when you about stepped on a child because you were gazing at pumpkins.

"if you don't mind me asking," mat started. "why are you helping me? you don't owe me anything. i feel like i'm taking advantage of your kindness."

you shrugged. "you wouldn't be the first one."

"what's that supposed to mean?" you looked up from the pumpkin patch to see mat's brows furrowed together and his mouth twisted in a cute frown.

"well, i mean, i've been told i have a habit of being a doormat at times."

"who said that?" his tone had changed to a softer one.

"huh?" you asked.

"who called you a doormat?"

you shrugged again, that seemed to be your go to move around him. you squatted down to look at a particularly fat pumpkin, inspecting all sides of it before you responded. "i've heard it all my life, some have said it in meaner ways, others have been nicer about it."

"i'm sorry," he said.

you stood to your full height which was still much shorter than mat's. "why? it's not like it's not true."

"what if i helped you?"

it was your turn to frown. "help me? with what? ice skating?"

mat rolled his eyes. "no, with confidence. maybe even get you a date."

you guffawed, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "what?"

mat pulled you out of the way of yet another child and kept his hand on your elbow until you were clear of the pumpkin roots. and if your heart stopped for a few seconds, that was your business, no one else's. "you heard me. you're young, single, and attractive and you spend all your free time at the office or DDing for your friends. we can work on your confidence and get you out there."

"i don't know..." though your mind was still focused on the fact that he'd called you attractive.

"what about that other photographer guy? tony?"

you cackled. straight up burst into laughter. "tyler? that's fucking hilarious mat."

"what?" the two of you continued down the patch, occasionally gazing at the pumpkins, but mostly just talking. "you two are always talking."

talking or being insulted?

you shook your head. "enough about me, we're here for alexa."

mat nudged you with his elbow. "actually we're here for me to win alexa over."

you kicked a small stone with the toe of your shoe and said nothing. the tragedy of your own personal situation wasn't lost on you, neither was the idiocy of your plan. what were you thinking, spending your free time with mat? to win over your friend?

it was textbook self inflicted torture.

"where'd you go?" mat nudged you again. "i lost you there for a second."

you bent down and picked up a smaller pumpkin. "what do you think about this one?"

"it looks fine. you're ignoring my question."

you juggled the pumpkin back and forth in your hands to determine if you liked it or not. "what question?" you looked up just in time to see mat roll his eyes, but he dropped the topic anyway.

the both of you walked over to the stall to pay for the pumpkin. you reached into your tote bag to grab your wallet, but mat was already holding out a five dollar bill to the vendor.

"you didn't have to--"

"do you wanna get some cider?"

you could've started drooling at the idea of drinking cider. "yes!"

mat chuckled and started walking towards the cider stand where a small family waited in front of you. "does alexa like cider?" he asked.

"what a random question."

"well you're not giving me anything to work with!"

you almost groaned. because he was right. you got caught up in the idea of hanging out with mat outside of work that you forgot the real reason both of you were there in the first place.

"she loves cider, especially when it's spiked. she also loves mulled wine." mat scrunched his face up. "not a fan?" you asked.

"warm wine? no thank you."

mat paid for the cider, going as far as having the cash ready before you could even order.

"you really don't have to keep buying things. i can pay!"

"oh this is all a bribe to get you to go through that corn maze with me."

your face dropped. "alexa doesn't like mazes."

"so i won't go with her next time, but you're here now and i wanna go."

you let him drag you along until you were in the thick of the maze. you let him guide the both of you through it like he knew what he was doing even though you were pretty sure you hit every possible dead end in the maze.

two little kids ran past giggling and smiling. "we found the end, mama!"

you almost laughed at the look of irritation on mat's face.

it took an obscene amount of time to get through the maze, and mat was in a much worse mood when it was all over.

needless to say, the ride home was quiet.

practice date 2: dinner at mat's

you weren't quite sure what mat was planning on making for dinner, but you were willing to bet the smell of smoke wasn't a part of the plan.

the scene when you walked into his apartment could only be described as chaotic. the smoke detector was going off and when you walked into the kitchen, mat was going between waving a towel under the detector and opening every window in his kitchen.

"you weren't supposed to be here yet!" he shouted over the noise before darting past you into the living room to open the windows in there.

you dropped your things on the counter and took over waving the towel under the smoke detector.

"what happened?" you asked.

"i suck at cooking!" he came back in the kitchen and took the towel from you. "i'm taller," he said like that was an explanation.

the beeping ceased and left the two of you in a hazy apartment. when you looked around the kitchen, you saw what had to be charred meat and veggies in a skillet.

"okay so when you cook dinner for alexa, don't. just hire a chef."

mat held up his phone. "or order pizza. you in?"

"do i get to financially contribute?"

he gestured to your belongings on the counter, one of which was a bottle of red wine. "you already did."

"you can't keep buying everything," you said. "it's not fair."

"why not? i'm the millionaire here, i'd look like a dick if i made you pay for anything. besides, when i date alexa, it's not like i'm gonna let my girlfriend pay."

girlfriend.

right.

that was the end goal for him.

you kept forgetting.

you cleared your throat and dusted your hands on your pants despite them being clean.

"you can go pick out a movie or something while i order the pizza?" mat suggested.

you had no choice but to nod and wander into his moderately decorated living room. it definitely still looked like a bachelor pad, but if a bachelor had enough money to hire someone to say he needed artwork, decorative pillows, and a couch that wasn't brown.

you were scrolling through netflix when mat came into the living room and plopped on the sectional beside you, shucking his shoes off. why he was wearing shoes in his own apartment was beyond you, but you weren't one to judge.

"you look nice," he commented, as if just noticing you for the first time that night.

you looked down at your own outfit. it was a pair of jeans and a nice blouse. "this?"

"are you wearing something else that i'm not seeing?" he teased.

before you could die of embarrassment, you switched subjects. "what do you want to watch? i haven't made a decision yet." you handed the remote to him, hating being the one to make the decisions.

he shifted on the couch so he was sitting up instead of lounging on the chaise and took the remote. "what's alexa's favorite movie?"

"birdbox."

mat did a double take. "she likes birdbox?"

you shrugged. "she's into suspense."

mat was about to select birdbox until he took one look on your face. you don't know what you looked like but it made him pause. "but are you?"

"why do you care what i like?"

"because you're here, alexa's not. i don't wanna make you watch something you'd hate." mat shifted on the couch. "why don't we work on those dating tips i talked to you about."

"oh i don't think--"

"why not?" he asked. "you're always so jittery whenever we talk about it."

oh.

was he referring to the other day after practice when he saw tyler tormenting you and mat misinterpreted that as flirty banter? mat had come up to you afterwards to give you pointers but you practically ran away.

"it's not that simple, mat."

"i think it is."

you threw your hands up. "well then, by all means you must be right."

"what's with the attitude?" he asked. "did i say something?"

it was a good question. one that shouldn't make you want to cry, but life felt overwhelming in all the worst ways. between tyler harassing you every second of every day and pretending like you weren't in love with mat so you could set him up with your friend, and taking photos for games and practices, you were exhausted.

"i'm not sober enough for this," you said before getting up and popping the cork on the wine bottle and drinking straight from it.

it was another thirty minutes before the pizza arrived and the both of you were well on your way to wine drunk, you more so than mat. who could blame you though? your life was a sad excuse for a single twenty-something and you were tired of thinking about it.

"truth is," mat started with a mouth full of pizza. "you just need to act like you're the best thing that's ever happened to this city. guys love confident women."

"and that's your biggest issue with alexa right now."

"wanna switch personalities?"

you laughed.

"what?" he asked. "what's so funny?"

"i'm trying to picture you without an ego and i don't think it's possible."

mat rolled his eyes but had a smile on his lips anyway. it shouldn't have made your heart pound the way it did, but you were weak for that man, you had been since day one.

so you switched courses.

"okay," you started. "how do i make get a guy to wanna date me?"

mats eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "you're serious?"

you nodded. "as a heart attack."

mat sat up on the couch and faced you. his eyes scanned your face like he was looking for something but couldn't find it. maybe he was looking for a reason to change the subject.

"alright," he said. "you gotta be confident, even if you don't feel like it. most guys don't mind a little insecurity, they find it kinda cute, but a guy who wants an insecure girl is a red flag."

"should i be taking notes or...?" you took a large sip of your wine and smiled when mat rolled his eyes again.

"secondly, you can't be hiding behind your camera all the time."

you guffawed. "i do not hide behind my camera!"

"oh give me a break, you totally do! you walk around like it's a safety blanket or something."

"because it is!"

"exactly my point! thirdly, chivalry isn't dead. if he's not doing basic things like opening doors, walking on the closest side to the street, and he's only talking about himself? run."

"what? he can't be a good person if he doesn't do those things?"

"if he can't do a basic kind gesture, he's not going to do larger ones. sorry. i don't make the rules."

you blinked. "but you kinda are making the rules for me, right now."

"you're such a smart ass, just like tito."

"is that a good or bad thing?"

mat shrugged and took another bite of pizza. "hard to say, i love tito most days."

love.

don't be an idiot and read into things.

"so," mat leaned back into the couch. "i gave you advice, it's my turn. how do i win over alexa?"

you thought back to the conversation you had with her a few weeks ago about mat. and one comment stuck out the most. "i think the biggest sin you committed was not knowing anything about me despite working together for two years," you admitted shyly.

mat's brows furrowed in that cute way they always did. "what do you mean?"

"she said she's not impressed by you being nice to kid fans or tipping waitstaff. she would be impressed if you knew anything about me because i'm not a hockey player."

mat recoiled as if physically struck by your words. "she thinks that low of you?"

"no she didn't mean to say you were--" you paused. "me? you think she has a low opinion of me?"

mat crossed his arms. "she just insinuated that you weren't important enough for me to know."

"no! that's not what she meant! she was saying that you think you're better than me."

"that's not even remotely true." and he said it so confidently, you almost believed him. "it's not, you know that right?"

you hesitated and you might as well have punched him in the gut.

mat said your name so softly like it was precious. like it was something special. "you have to know, i have never, not once, believed you were beneath me."

you gave him a small smile. "you don't need to explain yourself to me, mat."

he reached over and grabbed your hand, tugging on it lightly. "no. i need you to know, you are important to me."

your heart fluttered at his words, or maybe it was the fact that you were holding hands and you could feel the calluses rub against your own palm.

you could've stayed there forever.

"jesus fucking christ, why does it smell like something burned in here?" the front door opened and slammed sending you and mat sprawling apart like you hadn't been locked in a staring contest and holding hands. tito rounded the corner and crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face. "what do we have here?"

"nothing!" you squeaked out. "i was just leaving!"

"no you weren't," mat started, eyes wide with an emotion you couldn't place. "beau was just leaving."

you looked as confused as tito was. "what? no i'm not." you glanced back at mat who could not have looked more annoyed if he tried. "or i can...?"

"no!" you said. "i need to get going anyway. got work tomorrow, long day."

mat stood up when he realized there was no convincing you. "i can walk you out--"

"don't worry about it! i'm a big girl." you were leaving when you heard whisper shouting. you couldn't fully make out what they were saying, but before you shut the front door behind you, you could've sworn you heard them mention "liking her."

you did your best not to let the talking break your heart even more.

practice date 3: ice skating

you made mat pick out the last date but he hadn't told you what it was, just asked for your shoe size.

aside from that?

radio silence.

maybe you should've seen this coming. you'd talked to alexa a few days ago and she'd suggested that maybe you should put yourself out there more, find a date, find a boyfriend, find some happiness.

after practice, you found yourself scrolling through your camera roll in one of the seats in the arena when a pair of skates came into your peripheral. you looked up expecting to see a mop of black hair and hazel eyes.

but it was tito with a sheepish grin on his face.

"hey," he said.

you put your camera down and smiled. it was always good to see tito, with the exception of the other night. "hey, what can i do for you?"

anthony playfully rolled his eyes. "you don't live to serve us," he said. "i don't need anything, just wanted to say hi."

"hi!" you smiled even brighter.

"i was wondering, what're you doing friday night?"

you jaw dropped. and it must've been funny because tito threw his head back and laughed. "what?"

tito smiled at you and gestured towards you. "i was wondering if you'd want to get dinner with me on friday. i don't know what time you get off work, but i was thinking 6:30?"

you blinked. you blinked again. "are you serious?"

"why wouldn't i be? you're attractive, single, and i like your company. i think we'd have a fun time."

"okay," you smiled again. have you ever smiled this much in your life? you were unsure. "okay yeah, friday at 6:30 is perfect."

"great," tito grinned. "can i have your number?" you handed your phone over rather quickly, watching as he typed his number in and texted himself. "i'll see you," he said.

"bye tito!" you waved until he was out of sight. and even then, you continued to stare at the spot he was once occupying.

"what the hell was that about?"

you jumped about a foot in the air when tyler made his comment from over your shoulder. "jesus fucking christ, tyler." you placed a hand over your heart to feel how rapidly it was beating. "are you some sort of lurker?"

"what did beauvillier want with you?" he condescended.

"it's none of your business." you rolled your eyes when your phone buzzed.

mat barzal: come down to the locker room.

"who is that?" he asked, peering over your shoulder, but you stood up and started walking away.

the both of you headed down to the locker rooms, though you weren't really enjoying the company. tyler kept talking about your lackluster photography skills like the both of you didn't have the exact same job title.

you were rounding the corner when you saw mat leaning up against the wall, still in his hockey gear. tyler, being confronted with an audience, immediately departed. if you had to guess, he probably went back to his office to scheme how else to make your life miserable.

"hey," you said as you approached. "what's up?"

mat reached down and tossed a duffle bag at your feet. "open the bag," he directed.

you squatted and opened the zipper to see a pair of ice skates. you looked up at mat who looked pleased with himself. "what're these for?"

"you ever been ice skating?" he asked.

the short answer? no.

the long answer? once in second grade for a field trip.

"kinda?" you said instead.

mat laughed, like an actual laugh. there was a shiver that went down your spine at the very sound of it. "it's a yes or no question."

"i would say yes, but i was like eight."

"yeah, doesn't really count anymore. grab the bag, let's go." he walked off without a second thought, leaving you scrambling with the bag and rushing after him.

"what's the point of this?" you called after him.

"you told me to pick the last date, this is it!"

you stopped walking immediately. "mat, i don't know if this is a good idea..."

as if sensing your hesitation, mat turned around and walked back towards you. he rested his hands on your shoulders and squeezed lightly, ducking his head down towards yours. "i'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you, i promise. you have nothing to be afraid of."

"what if my boss sees? what if lou sees? i'm a lot more replaceable than you are."

mat scoffed. "first of all, you're not replaceable. second of all, it's gonna be fine. i'll take all the heat if we get in trouble, which we won't because it's not a big deal." he reached down and grabbed your hand that wasn't holding the duffle bag. "now c'mon."

he led you out to the bench where you sat down and placed your camera on the bench. "take your shoes off and put these socks on." he tossed a pair of socks at your head that you barely caught in time.

"but i'm already wearing socks," you said.

"these are longer, unless you want the boot to cut into your ankle."

safe to say, you put the socks on.

mat knelt in front of you to help put the skates on, tying them up so they were secure on your feet.

you wanted to swoon at the sight of him before you. thankfully, he stood up and helped you to your feet before you could start imagining anything preposterous.

like him proposing.

you watched as mat slid over the top of the bench railing and onto the ice. he turned around and looked at you expectantly.

"oh hell no," you said. "where's the door, i'll use the door."

he cackled as you walked and opened the door, but skated to you anyway to give you some assistance when stepping onto the ice.

"easy does it," he said, chuckling when your grip was practically crushing his fingers. "you're okay, i'm not gonna let you fall."

"it's not you i don't trust, it's me."

mat kept a grip on your hands and led you out to the center of the ice. on the way to the center, you slipped twice, a squeak leaving your lips. you quickly latched onto mat who only laughed at your death grip on his forearms.

"it's not funny," you whined. "i'm terrified."

"you're right, it's not funny. but it is cute." he removed your hands from his arms and skated away from you. "okay, now come to me."

he was easily twenty feet away.

you glanced down at the ice and then back at mat. you would've sat down if you knew how to without eating it. "mat, i'm telling you right now, that's not gonna happen."

"it's not that hard."

"you've been skating since you were a child. i have not." you attempted to take a step forward, but thought differently of it. "besides, how does this help you with alexa?"

"easy," he said. "if i can teach you to skate, i can teach anyone."

"so your idea of a romantic date is a girl busting her ass over and over for an hour?"

"not quite," he said, skating circles around you.

literally.

"you're being an ass,' you whined. "why did the one practice date you pick out have to do with hockey?"

"because it's what i love. and if a girl can't hang with it, our relationship is doomed to fail."

you rolled your eyes. "that's a bit dramatic. you can appreciate and love hockey without having to ice skate. thousands of fans do it all the time."

"but my girlfriend won't be just a fan, now will she?"

your heart sank at the idea of alexa and mat in a similar situation. alexa actually trying to skate and looking beautiful while doing so. you pictured them laughing as she slipped and mat catching her before she could fall.

"you okay? i lost you again." mat skated right up to you, leaving maybe a foot of space between the two of you.

"yeah," you breathed. "just thinking."

mat smirked and skated backwards. "uh oh. that can't be good. less thinking more skating. would it help if i pushed you?"

"no!" you shrieked. "it definitely wouldn't!"

but it was too late. mat was skating up behind you and placing his hands on your waist. "relax," he murmured. "i'm not gonna push you without a little guidance."

relax?

relax?

when his hands were on your waist and he was mumbling in your ear?

how the hell was anyone supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions?

mat added a little pressure to your back. and suddenly you were moving. "that's it," he praised. "now just move your feet."

it was easier with mat's hands on you, the sensation forcing you to focus on the warmth of his palms than the fact that you were skating on sharp knives.

"see? this isn't so bad, right?"

it wasn't too terribly bad, truth be told it was just like roller skating, just ten times scarier.

"yeah," you said. "not too bad."

"so you're ready to go by yourself?" his hands starting slipping away, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.

"i--"

but he was already skating away. he stopped about twenty feet away and smiled. "skate to me."

"mat--" your voice shook at the idea. skating with him was one thing, skating to him was another.

"hey," he said quietly. "eyes on me, okay? i'm not gonna let you fall, if i think you're gonna fall, i'll catch you. i was the fastest skater in 2020, remember?"

you nodded. "just like roller skating," you mumbled.

"except better," mat added.

you took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other, slowly but surely gliding towards him. you started picking up pace the closer you got to him.

"mat?"

"you're doing great!" he smiled.

"i don't know how to stop!"

mat laughed even as he caught you. his arms gripped your biceps and his smile was a mile wide. "you okay?" he asked.

you couldn't help but smile. "yeah," you breathed.

there was hardly any room between the two of you. your heart was beating wildly in your chest at the proximity, the rush of skating alone, who knew? you surely didn't.

you looked into his eyes and could've sworn his gaze dropped to your chin, but you were known for your hopeless romantic delusions, so maybe--

"hey!" whatever trance you were in ended when you saw a man in coveralls standing at the end of the rink. "time's up, i gotta clean the ice!"

"sorry!" mat called. "we'll get out of your way!" he gently took your hand in his and skated the both of you back to the benches.

mat helped you take off your skates and walked you back up the tunnel towards the locker rooms. the both of you stopped just outside of them, considering mat still had to shower and go home while you had the rest of the day to do your work.

"this was really fun," you said. "terrifying but fun."

"i'm glad you enjoyed it." his smile just about made you collapse into a puddle.

but you got a grip on reality and nodded. "well, i hope this helps with alexa, i'll try to talk to her in the next day or so, see where her head is."

mat's jaw clenched but he nodded. "i'll be seeing you."

"bye, mat."

you might as well have been on cloud nine by the time you got up to your office. you were in a different zone, focused on the way that mat's hands felt on your body, in your own hand. the feeling of euphoria wouldn't leave your body, you were sure of it. nothing could take that feeling away.

until you got to your desk and saw tyler.

who was sitting on your desk and using a paper clip to get the dirt out from under his nails.

"what were you and barzal doing?" tyler asked, moving off your desk, instead choosing to lean up against the cubicle.

you ignored him.

"i asked you a question," he said.

"i heard you, tyler. but i have work to do." you signed into your computer and plugged your camera in, ready to start uploading and editing photos from practice and the game yesterday.

“do you really think sleeping your way through the roster will help you get your pics chosen for the social media accounts?” he sneered.

you froze, your fingers hovered over the keyboard. "what?"

"i said--"

"don't repeat it." another voice joined in and when you turned around to see who came in, you were flabbergasted.

mat.

"barzal i--"

"where do you get off talking to her like that? talking to anyone like that?" he stepped into the room, chest puffed out.

in all of your time working for the isles, mat had never been much of a fighter, but he looked ready to pummel tyler if need be.

"mat, it's fine," you mumbled.

"no, it's not. is this how he normally talks to you?"

you said nothing.

that only seemed to make mat angrier. "you need to go to HR about this. this is workplace harassment. now apologize," he directed at tyler.

"for what? speaking the truth? is this how you think you can get ahead in life?" tyler said to you. "first beauvillier now barzal?"

you and mat both froze. in the corner of your eye you could see his jaw clench before he looked at you.

"can you do your work from home?" he asked.

you nodded. "i just have a shit ton of editing but i can do that on my laptop--"

"great. i'll take you home."

"but my boss-"

"if anyone has a problem with it, they can talk to me. let's go." mat was spinning on his heel and walking out of the room as quickly as he came in. you were unplugging your camera and logging off your computer, packing up your things, before sprinting after him.

"mat! mat, wait up!"

he stopped walking and looked at you, an unfamiliar expression in his eyes. "can you wait for me outside the locker room? i still have to shower and change."

you nodded. "why did you come upstairs anyway?"

"to give you the skates." you glanced down at his empty hands. "i forgot the bag, and by that point, i was too lazy to go down and get them without you."

the both of you continued your walk until you got to the locker room.

"i'll be a few minutes and then i'll take you home."

true to his word, mat was only gone for ten minutes before coming out freshly showered and ready to go home. neither of you spoke until he was pulling the car out of the parking garage.

"what did tyler mean when he mentioned tito?" mat asked after moments of silence. his fists were gripping the wheel tightly, though you didn't know why.

"tito asked me to dinner on friday."

mat's fists tightened their grip on the wheel and his jaw clenched so hard, you were afraid he was going to chip some teeth.

"oh." was all he said.

"something wrong? i just figured for once i wouldn't be hiding behind my camera like you said and i thought it would be fun, you know? we get along fine. why? do you think i shouldn't go?"

"no!" mat said quickly. "no, i just, it just caught me by surprise is all. i'm sure you'll have fun."

"and i can give you alexa's number if you want to ask her out! she's coming over tonight so i can talk you up now that i know more about you, make it seem more genuine."

"yeah," he choked out. "yeah, that would be great."

mat pulled up to your apartment a few minutes later and watched as you got out. "i meant what i said in your office," he said. "you need to tell HR about tyler's behavior."

"i will." you probably wouldn't. "thanks, mat."

he nodded as you shut the door and waited for you to go inside before driving off.

you walked up the stairs to your apartment and unlocked the door. as you shut the door behind you, you felt the weight of today bearing down.

tito asking you out.

the moments with mat.

the slut shaming comment from tyler.

when did your life get so dramatic?

step 4: get her to say yes

you had alexa over that night, armed with a million reasons why she should say yes to mat.

and the one reason why she should say no was locked deep in your chest. your happiness and affection for him shouldn't deter her.

besides, you would eventually get over your silly little crush, right?

right?

"so what's new in your world? i feel like you've been so busy lately. it's kind of strange," alexa said before shoveling a forkful of pasta in her mouth. it should've been disgusting, but she made it look graceful.

"oh you know, just working."

"is that why you were in the middle of nowhere a few weeks ago? work?"

"what?"

"i checked your location, you were on a farm. didn't realize the isles was doing photoshoots that far out of the city."

"oh they're not," you explained. "i was with mat, we were just hanging out."

alexa blinked. "since when do you and mat hang out?"

ouch.

but true.

you couldn't come out and say it could you? that the reason the two of you started interacting was because he wanted to date alexa?

no, you couldn't.

so you lied.

"oh, the social media team wanted me to get some information on mat, like a get to know you segment. they wanted something outside of work, so we were just hanging out so i could write this article on him."

a complete lie. you haven't had to write anything on anyone since your college journalism class. but alexa didn't know that. you never told her what you do all day for work. for all she knew, you could be running the tiktok account.

alexa raised an eyebrow. "and how did that go? was he talking about himself the entire time?"

"no!" you said. but then you paused, realizing that getting defensive would just look suspicious. "he told me a lot about how he doesn't like mulled wine and loves corn mazes despite being absolutely shitty at them. he loves his friends and hockey, obviously. he refuses to let anyone pay for anything while you're with him because he has money and likes to treat people. and he sticks up for the people that are important to him. and once you're in with him, you don't have to worry about your place in his life or how important you are because he will keep reminding you."

alexa stared at you. "are you sure you don't want to go out with him?"

you guffawed and hoped that it covered up your embarrassment. "what? no! he's clearly into you, and i think you should go for it."

"give me one good reason why."

"because he's kind, and nothing like your ex. he cares, legitimately cares about people and their lives." you sighed, not sure if you were convincing her. “it’s just one date, lex. if you don’t like him at least you got a free meal.”

alexa chewed her lip, letting you anguish in silence. "fine. you can give him my number and we'll set up a date. i trust you."

"fantastic!" you were already pulling your phone out. "he'll be so excited--"

"only if you can look me in the eye and tell me you don't have feelings for him."

you opened and closed your mouth. "i don't have feelings for him," you said with as much confidence as you could.

"honey..."

"no! i don't! if i had feelings for him, would i be going out to dinner with his best friend on friday?"

alexa didn't look fully convinced, but your date with tito was a welcomed distraction as she started rattling off questions about what you would wear and where he was taking you.

alexa left two hours later, meaning you could go to bed at a reasonable hour. as you laid in bed, you grabbed your phone and opened mat's contact, drafting a text to him.

here's alexa's number. managed to convince her you were worth a shot. xxx-xxx-xxxx.

you locked your phone and put it on do not disturb before you could see his response.

when you woke up the next morning, you saw mat had simply liked the message and left it at that.

by noon, alexa texted you that her date with mat was on saturday.

step 5: let the dates begin

friday came faster than you were anticipating. you kept your distance from mat, unable to look at him without thinking about how he was taking your friend out the very next day and that your interactions from that point on would probably be through alexa.

tyler kept his distance, must've been the threat of going to HR (that you still hadn't gone through with) that had him treating you like a human being with feelings.

as for tito, you probably should've been more excited for your date that night, but all you could focus on was how mat and alexa would fall in love and get married and have beautiful babies and grow old together.

and you would be the sucker who set them up because you could never tell mat no.

a slam against the boards startled you enough to look up from your camera to see tito standing there with a smile on his face.

"you okay?" he asked over the sounds of his teammates on the ice.

you gave him what you hoped was a convincing smile and nodded. but he rolled his eyes.

"we'll talk later," he said before skating away. you smiled and waved at him before you made eye contact with mat who was clenching his jaw. at what? you weren't sure. you even turned around to see if tyler had entered the arena, but you were standing alone.

like you always were.

you were headed back to your desk to do some editing as practice let out, but your name was called before you could get away.

when you looked over your shoulder, you saw tito doing an awkward half jog half walk towards you with a tired grin on his face. "hey," he said. "how do you think practice went?"

you turned to face him fully. "you're asking me? a professional asking some photographer how practice went?"

tito rolled his eyes. "oh c'mon. you've seen our practices, by now you should be able to determine whether or not it was a good one."

"well, no one fought each other, so i guess that's a win."

tito shook his head. "nah, that's when the best practices happen. when everyone's pissed at each other."

you smiled. "shows what i know."

"i think you know more than you think. you've worked here for awhile now."

"i've just gotten better at motion capture photography and following the puck around the ice. doesn't mean i know shit about hockey."

"don't think we don't notice you getting riled up during games when calls are missed."

you tilted your head and furrowed your brows. "we?"

tito shrugged and laughed to himself. "mat usually points it out before i can." you must've made a face because he added more. "it's usually on the bench, he's focused on the game when he's playing."

the both of you turn your heads at the other players walking down the tunnel. when the both of you caught sight of mat, tito smiled.

"will you send me your address? so i can pick you up?"

your attention snapped back to tito. "yeah! of course!"

he nodded and started his walk towards the locker rooms right when mat walked up to you. "what was that about?" he asked.

you shrugged. "just going over details for tonight. he needs my address to pick me up."

mat clenched his jaw again and looked down the tunnel, nodding his head. "that's tonight?"

"yep. at 6:30."

he wouldn't meet your eyes. instead, he looked at your shoes, your camera, the hallway, his teammates, but would never look at your face.

"you and alexa go out tomorrow, right? where are you taking her?"

he ran a hand through his hair and nodded at anders as he passed by. "yeah, we're going out to this sushi place. did you ever talk to HR?"

"well no but--"

"do i need to talk to HR?"

"he really hasn't been that bad lately--"

"because i threatened to tell HR on his ass. he's gonna get comfortable and start insulting you again. it's just a matter of time."

you nodded, feeling a lump in your throat form at the idea of mat scolding you, in front of his teammates no less.

mat sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. "i'm not trying to fuss or tell you what to do, i just don't like seeing you treated like that."

"thanks, mat," you mumbled.

he still wouldn't meet your eyes, instead looking down the hallway to see most of his team in the locker room. "i gotta go, but um, good luck tonight. beau's a good guy."

with that he turned on his skates and walked away.

you felt every bit of pathetic as you watched him go.

that night, you settled on a pretty dress that wasn't too fancy, seeing as the only details tito had given you were that it was nicer than an olive garden but not a michelin star restaurant. you were strapping yourself into your heels when you heard a knock on the door.

your phone said it was only 6:15, but maybe tito was accounting for traffic. he never did specify when the reservation was.

"coming!" you called as you put your last heel on and made your way to the door. "i wasn't expecting you this early, you never told me when the reservation was--" your voice trailed off when you opened the door and saw who was standing on the other side.

mat.

he looked more disheveled than you'd ever seen him. it was clear he'd been running his hands through his hair repeatedly just by the strands sticking out every which way.

he still looked handsome.

"mat, what're you--"

"i think you're beautiful. and smart. and passionate about a lot of things. and i think anyone who tells you otherwise is an idiot, and i'd fight them if you'd let me." your eyes started welling up with tears. "i think you're perfect for me and if you'd let me take you out, i promise i'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you."

you blinked until the tears disappeared by sheer willpower, not willing to cry in front of him. "that's perfect," you said. "say that to lex and she'll be eating out of the palm of your hand."

you turned around to grab your bag and coat before you could see mat's face drop in confusion. by the time you turned back around, anthony was standing next to his best friend.

"you ready?" he asked, only glancing at mat out of the side of his eye.

you nodded and squeezed mat's arm as you passed; you couldn't help yourself. "get home safe, mat."

neither you or tito spoke until you got into his car. "what was that about?" he asked.

you shrugged. still not fully comprehending why mat showed up at your door in the first place. "he was telling me what he was gonna tell lex tomorrow, i think."

"really." he didn't sound convinced.

"why else would he show up?"

tito mumbled. "i can think of a few reasons."

after he parked the car, tito got out and opened the door for you while you were answering texts from alexa. he offered you a hand to get out that you took.

there were no sparks, no electric sensations going up your arm. just physical contact, just the warmth of his palm in yours.

he led you into the restaurant which was moderately fancy, like he said. the two of you were escorted back to a table in the corner, away from windows and therefore away from prying eyes.

like a gentleman, he pulled your chair out and helped you scooch up to the table.

"i can't remember if i told you this, but you look lovely," he said with a smile.

"thanks," you replied. "you look handsome." and you meant it. if you weren't in love with his best friend, in another life, you could see yourself falling for his blue eyes. and maybe you still could. mat was going on a date with your friend tomorrow so it was better that you just get over him already and--

"so how long have you been in love with mat?"

you choked on your own spit, and for a minute, tito looked apologetic. for his timing, you had to guess, not the question itself.

surely you heard him wrong.

"what?" you asked when you finally got your bearings.

"how long have you loved him?"

nope. you heard him correctly.

"i--"

he leaned forward, arms braced on the table. "you don't have to lie to me, i know. i've known for awhile."

"i--"

but the server came up and asked for drink orders. tito ordered a bottle of red for the table after asking for your thoughts.

you were still reeling from his question, safe to say you didn't have any thoughts.

"sorry," tito started. "i didn't mean to make you feel cornered, i just wanted to be honest."

"it doesn't look like you're the only who needs to be honest, it's me." you fiddled with the ends of your dress.

"why'd you do it? why'd you help set mat up with your friend?"

you shrugged. "i just wanted to see him happy. and i wanted alexa to find a good guy, i knew mat was one. they make sense together."

"even if it makes you unhappy."

"even if it makes me unhappy."

tito nodded, and looked at you like he could see something you couldn't. "let's forget about him for now and just enjoy dinner, eh?"

you gave him your best smile and nodded.

the rest of the night flew by. soon enough, tito was walking you up to your apartment and kissing your cheek before he left. you wished you felt butterflies, or something, but there was no special sensation. nothing to make you weak in the knees.

it was like a kiss from an old friend.

your phone buzzed with a text from alexa.

alexa: how'd your date go?

you typed out a quick response.

it was good. just got home.

you locked your phone and placed it on your nightstand before collapsing into bed. but your phone buzzed again. you thought about ignoring it, but if it was alexa, you didn't want her to think you were upset at her.

mat barzal: did you have fun?

you blinked before typing back.

yeah. tito's great.

not a second later, you got another text.

mat barzal: good. have a good night.

you fell back against your pillows and cursed at the ceiling.

step 6: let them fall in love

you woke up the next morning and stayed in bed until your bladder was about to burst. after the date with tito and the reminder that mat was going out with alexa tonight, it was all enough to put you back in bed as soon as you peed.

and you stayed there, flicking through netflix shows and wallowing in self pity. you usually weren't this pathetic, but the idea of alexa and mat getting cozy on their date that night was enough to warrant your sadness.

you'd pull yourself together by monday when you'd have to go back to work and see how happy she made him.

that's what you kept telling yourself, that at the very least, two of your friends would be happy.

by 7pm, you were sitting on the couch, waiting for takeout to arrive.

when a knock on the door signified your food arrived, you got up with your blanket burrito and walked to the door. you didn't even bother checking before yanking the door open and looking down at your doormat.

only to see a pair of shoes.

"what the hell," you mumbled. "i thought i said leave at the door...' your voice trailed off as your eyes lifted to meet a pair of hazel.

mat barzal.

he had your food in one hand while the other was in his pocket.

"mat?" you whispered. suddenly, you were throwing the blankets off your shoulders and behind you into your apartment where they'd be out of sight.

though it was then you realized you were in sweats and you hadn't done anything with your hair all day so you were probably better off with the blanket burrito instead.

"hi," he breathed. "here's your food." he handed it over, nodding when you murmured your thanks, and shoved his other hand through his hair.

you glanced at the time on the clock on your wall to make sure you weren't hallucinating. "why're you here, mat? shouldn't you be with alexa?"

"that's what i wanted to talk to you about, actually."

"oh no," you started panicking, your eyes widened. "did she not show up?" you turned back into your apartment and went to your phone, searching for texts from alexa to explain her absence. "i swear i thought she'd show. she told me she would and she's usually a woman of her word."

you turned around when your front door shut with mat standing in the middle of your living room, looking out of place and right at home somehow.

your phone was vacant of any text messages from alexa.

"no, she showed. i left early."

that caught your attention.

you set your food on the coffee table and turned around to face him.

"why did you leave early? was she rude? are you sick?"

mat shook his head. "no, i'm fine, she was fine. that's not why i'm here. i mean it is but that's--that's--i want, no i need to tell you something."

"tell me what?"

he rolled his eyes. "i'm getting to that." he started pacing your very small living room. you wondered if he knew how much space he took up in your apartment. you wondered if he cared how messy your place was. "i'm just gonna come right out and say it, and don't interrupt me this time." you nodded.

mat ran both hands through his hair for the twentieth time since he showed up. "when i said all those things last night, i wasn't talking about alexa. i was talking about you."

what.

but he continued.

"i'm not gonna pretend i've loved you this whole time, but i fell in love with you along the way. the way you kept analyzing every fucking pumpkin for the perfect one, or how you bring red wine to dinner unprompted because you can't not contribute to something, or the way you trusted me enough to take you on the ice and show you something i love, or how you laugh like no one has ever said something mean to you in your life even when i know that jackass tyler harasses you on the daily. you're kind to literally every person i've ever seen you interact with.

"but i hate the way you shrink yourself like you're afraid to take up space. i hate the way you act like alexa's better than you, like i couldn't fall in love with you when you're literally the most generous, kindest, passionate, and beautiful person i've ever met in my life. because i do love you. every fiber of my being loves you."

you blinked once. twice. and breathed.

"what?" you whispered as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.

"i know you just went out with tito last night, and if you like him, if you love him, i get it. he's a great guy and you'd be great together. but i'm asking you to give me a chance, give us a chance. i've had fun with you the last few weeks and i cannot bear the thought of not calling you mine any longer." his chest was heaving as the words rushed out of his mouth.

you rounded the coffee table to get to him. as soon as you were in arms' reach, mat was pulling you to him. with your hips pressed together, your lips just a breath away, you spoke softly.

"please tell me this isn't a dream."

a small laugh escaped his lips and echoed over your own. "it's not a dream, baby. this is real. i love you so fucking much."

"i love you too, mat."

any words you had left to say were lost as he brought your mouths together.

you weren't sure how much time had passed before you separated from him with your hands pressed on his chest. mat tried to follow your lips, but you kept a firm hand on his sternum so you could speak.

"what about alexa?"

mat pulled back. "what about her?"

"you were on a date with her and just left her there?"

"i more than covered the tab if that's what you're afraid of--"

"what if she hates me?"

he laughed. like threw his head back and laughed before kissing you again. "baby, we were there for fifteen minutes and all i could talk about was you. she told me to come here and tell you the truth."

you smiled. "thank god for alexa."

"thank god for alexa."

mat led the two of you over to the couch where you immediately curled into him. he kissed the top of your head, seemingly addicted to having his lips on your body at all times. "you're fired, you know."

you would've pulled away had mat's grip allowed it. "what? fired from what?"

"the wing woman business. you're absolutely horrible at it."

"yeah, well i think it worked out pretty well."

he pressed his lips into your hair and mumbled. "yeah, i think so too."

[daisynik7]

Hi are you still doing song requests? If so can you do Make You Feel My Love by Adele for Toji? 🥹 please and thank you ☺️

Make You Feel My Love

Part Two to Photograph

Pairing: Toji Fushiguro x f!reader

Word Count: ~2.3k

cw: fluff, explicit language, basically all fluff lol

Summary: Toji Fushiguro is nothing like his previous self. He’s become hardened, almost completely desensitized through the years, being used and abused by his own family, the Zenin clan. After the loss of his first wife, Toji takes his son and decides to finally run away to the only place where he can feel like his true self again: home. There, he reunites with a familiar face. 

Author’s Notes: Thank you for this request for the y2k karaoke party! I thought it’d be perfect as a continuation to this story. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for reading. Divider credits to @/cafekitsune.

“Zenin?”

Your voice is soft, almost breathless, when you utter his name as he stands between the door frame of your classroom, hands in his pockets, a shy expression on his face. “Uh, yeah. It’s me. I go by Fushiguro now.” 

You look between him and Megumi, spotting the similarities instantly. The jet-black hair, the same-colored eyes, almost identical facial structure. A spitting image of his father, who stands before you, much bigger than when you last saw him, but certainly the same boy who’s grown into a man. There isn’t time to catch up as your students file in, greeting their new classmate politely at his desk. Toji clears his throat, stepping aside to make room for the kids to walk in. “I’ll be back later to pick up the kid, if you want to catch up.”

The kid. You hide your giggles, pleased to hear that he still sounds like the same Toji you knew many years ago. His eyes light up at your laughter; he doesn’t remember the last time he heard a genuine one like yours. Sweet, pure, and music to his ears. 

The bell rings, and that’s his cue to leave. There isn’t much to do throughout the day, considering he is now unemployed. He’s tempted to resort to old habits and head to the racetrack to gamble on horses, but instead, he goes to the public library to use a computer, searching for job openings around the area. The day passes quickly and it’s time for him to pick up Megumi. He waits outside, watching as all the other children run towards their parents, most of whom eye him with wary expressions. He’s gotten used to lingering glances like this, aware of his intimidating presence. It doesn’t bother him anymore; he’s used to being seen as some sort of monster. And with what he’s done during his life as a Zenin, maybe he is. 

Megumi is the last outside, hand-in-hand with you, his teacher. You both give him a wave, your eyes twinkling with kindness and a bright smile. You’re the only one who looks at Toji like this. The only one who sees him as human. When you approach him, he places his hand on Megumi’s head, ruffling his hair. “How was it?” 

His son grins, giving his father a thumbs up. 

“You made some new friends, right Megumi?” you say, squeezing his hand. “What are their names?”

In his squeaky voice, he replies, “Yuji and Nobara.”

Toji smirks. “Friends already? That’s great, bud. I knew you’d like it here.” 

Megumi lets go of you, holding onto his dad’s wrist. “Yuji said he’s getting ice cream down the street with his grandpa. Can we go too?”

“Of course,” Toji responds. He looks to you, tipping his head to the side. “Want to join us?”

~~~

You’re sitting in a booth across from the Fushiguros, who share the biggest chocolate fudge sundae they could order off the menu. Eventually, Megumi spots his new pink-haired friend and asks if they can play at the mini arcade together in the back of the shop, to which Toji agrees, passing him money. Now, you’re alone with him, hundreds of questions you want to ask, but are too nervous to. You sip on your milkshake, unsure where to begin. 

Fortunately, he speaks first. “Did you stay in Tokyo this entire time?” 

You shake your head. “I went to university overseas, then I moved back.”

“Overseas, huh? Sounds fun,” he muses, scooping a big bite into his mouth. 

“How about you? Where did you go?” The last memory you have of him is the distraught look on his face, after you shared a kiss together. The next day, he was gone. 

He licks the back of his spoon, collecting all the chocolate off. “Here and there. But mostly there.”

“You were still in Tokyo?” You try not to sound outraged. Deep down, you’re hurt by the way the two of you parted. And if he was truly here all along, you’re even more upset, knowing he had all this time to apologize. Years and years, you wondered if all the little moments you shared together were just that, or something more. Even now, finally meeting him in the flesh, you’re uncertain where you stand with him. 

He senses your uneasiness, sitting up straight to explain. “The Zenins relocated to a more remote location up in the mountains in order to carry out their dirty deeds. I dropped out of school and started working full time as their lackey. I was often sent to Tokyo for duties.” He spreads his fingers, presenting his hands towards you, calloused and scarred from overwork and guilt. “I’ve done things that I am not proud of. Hurt people that didn’t deserve it. I didn’t want to do it, but at the time, I had no other choice.”

You listen to him intently, sipping on your milkshake slowly, giving him your undivided attention as he continues his story. 

“Me and Megumi’s mom had an arranged marriage. The Zenins wanted me to produce an heir once my father’s health started to decline. She was a kind woman, the closest thing I had to an escape. But still, the both of us were trapped. It didn’t matter that we had each other; we were both under the wills of our families.”

“After a few months of trying, she got pregnant. Our lives felt normal during this time. Like we were a regular family. Me, her, Megumi in her belly. My father left us alone. He wanted to make sure I was taking good care of her so that our son would come out strong and healthy. And he did. He was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” 

Toji takes a deep breath, the both of you anticipating this next part. “It was a home birth, per my father’s request. I should have said something from the start, but I didn’t think anything would go wrong. After Megumi was delivered, the bleeding wouldn’t stop.” He swallows hard, throat tight with emotion. “And by the time the ambulance arrived, she was gone.”

He avoids your gaze, staring hard at the metal container filled with napkins on the side of the table. You’re tempted to reach for his hand, to offer comfort, but you decide against it, deeming it inappropriate. 

“My family couldn’t care less. All that mattered to them is that they had their new heir. They didn’t even cry when she passed away.” His jaw is clenched tight, hands in fists, trembling against the table’s surface. “Heartless bastards, all of them. I should have left with Megumi then, but I didn’t. I was a fucking coward, too scared to face the world alone. And with a little baby at that.”

“Why did you decide to finally leave?” you ask.

“They were going to start training Megumi how to fight. He’s only five-years-old, for fuck’s sake. He’s the gentlest, sweetest kid, and they want him to become like me. I didn’t want that. I don’t want Megumi to have the life I did, not if I can help it.” He unclenches his fists, relaxing into his seat, spooning whatever melted ice cream remains into his mouth. 

You lean forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Why did you decide to come back here?”

He doesn’t respond right away, pretending to be preoccupied with the swirly mess of sweet cream in front of him. He contemplates how best to explain himself. If he admits the truth, it may come off too strong. The reason he’s returned home is because of you. The photo of you and him smiling on the beach a decade ago is in his pocket, wrinkled and faded from years of yearning. He had dreamt of this day ever since he left, hoping the next time you reunite, he’ll be free of the Zenin name. Free to do as he pleases, free to love who he wants. And now that day has come, he’s just as nervous as he expected he'd be. 

Not wanting to make a fool of himself, he says, “I know this area well. Figured it’d be a good place for us to start fresh.” 

You smile at him. “If you and Megumi ever need anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. I’d like to help you in any way I can.”

“Megumi is a good kid. Quiet, but good. He doesn’t give me any trouble, so he makes it easy.”

“So nothing like his father, then?” you tease, raising a brow at him.

He chuckles. “Like I said, I’ll make sure of that.”

You reach for him, resting your hand on top of his. “You’re not all bad. You’re pretty great, remember?”

Instantly, you’re taken back ten years ago, moments before that kiss. Electricity sparks between you; his hand shifts beneath yours, his palm turned up now, fingertips brushing lightly against the delicate skin of your wrist. He gazes at you, smiling. The prominent scar across his lips more titillating than it’s ever been before. “Yeah, I remember.”

Before either of you can do anything more, Megumi returns to the table, head drenched in sweat, breathing heavily. He grabs the water cup on the table, chugging it aggressively, wiping his mouth with the hem of his t-shirt, fresh from a rousing game of Dance Dance Revolution against his new best friend.

~~~

Toji picks up Megumi every single day after school. He’s adamant about it, claiming it’s important for him to spend as much time with his son as possible, something he never experienced growing up. He accepts a job in construction, working early morning shifts in order to be outside the school steps promptly. 

A few nights a week, he invites you to their apartment for dinner, where you help him cook simple recipes like fried rice or noodles, even little treats like rice balls for Megumi’s school snack. This Thursday night, you stay until bedtime, watching from the doorway as Toji tucks in his son, a small grin on his face, studying the way his eyelashes flutter into a deep slumber. Sound asleep, he sneaks out, closing the door quietly.

You check the time on your phone, disappointed that it’s getting late. “I should head home.”

He walks you to the exit. “Megumi is going to Yuji’s house for a sleepover tomorrow night.”

So far, Toji has kept his distance from you, though you’ve notice subtle glances here and there. You haven’t exactly been forward yourself, too nervous to make the first move or misunderstand what could be friendship and nothing more. Toji feels the same way, unsure if his feelings are reciprocated or if you’re simply this nice of a person. Hopefully, it’s both.  

Your heart beats faster, not sure what you’re supposed to do with this information, waiting for him to elaborate. He clears his throat. “I want to take you out to dinner, to thank you for all that you’ve done for us.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“I want to,” he insists, smiling. 

The following night, he arrives at your house, dressed in a flattering button-up and slacks, greeting your parents formally for the first time in over a decade. They remember him fondly, excited to see him all grown-up. He takes you to a restaurant downtown, ordering the most popular items on the menu to share between you, enjoying each other’s company as you always do. After dessert, he invites you to his house for a nightcap, and you’re a little too keen when you agree. While you wait for the water to boil in the tea kettle, you sit beside him on the couch, looking through pictures of him and Megumi on his phone. 

“We went to the beach the first weekend we moved in,” he says, showing a selfie of the two of them sitting on the sand. 

You nudge him in the arm with your elbow. “Remember that school project?”

He grins, leaning into you. “How could I forget?” He glances at your lips, then into your eyes, inching even closer. You gravitate towards him, holding your breath, ready to kiss. Then, the tea kettle whistles, ruining the moment. 

Chuckling, he stands up to remove it from the stove. You sit back into the couch, sighing, body tingling and flustered. He returns shortly with a hot mug of tea in his hands, setting it on the coffee table. “You should let it cool. It’s too hot right now.” He sinks into the cushion beside you, knee brushing yours. 

“Did you like me back? When we first kissed?” It’s one of the many questions still unanswered, and you decide that now is the best time to find out the truth. 

He smiles, grasping your hand gently. “Yes.”

You lock your fingers with his, filling in the spaces seamlessly. “Then why did you lie to me?”

“I didn’t think it’d be safe for you to be associated with me. Not while I was still a Zenin.” He pulls you forward, wrapping your arms around his broad shoulders, noses nearly touching now. 

“And where’s the picture of us?” you whisper, nuzzling your nose to his, wanting so badly to close the distance. 

“I took it. I’ve had it this whole time,” he admits, brushing his lips to yours. You kiss him fully, his grip around your waist, no signs of letting you go anytime soon. You make love to each other right there on his couch, your hot tea forgotten on the coffee table, cold by the time you remember it the next morning. 

For the first time in his life, Toji doesn’t feel dangerous. He doesn’t feel like a monster or a threat. As he marvels at your peaceful form cradled delicately in his arms, Toji Fushiguro feels normal. He feels loved.

[weemssapphic]

Hello, friend!

Would you be so kind as to write a one-shot where r is a local boudoir photographer in Jericho and Larissa gets a shoot done(for whatever reason)? Then it becomes an often thing and r just can't stand seeing such a beautiful woman single ;) maybe some fluffy smut at the end?

A/N: HELLO FRIEND. i'm actually embarrassed looking at the date on this ask and i request your sincerest apologies. i really loved writing this and i hope you enjoy it!

All My Pictures of You

Words: ~5.4k | ao3 link in title

Content/warnings: mutual pining, boudoir photography, lingerie, nsfw (smut) - vaginal fingering

Larissa sat in her car in front of the small cottage, her gaze shifting nervously to her watch. 2:57 pm. Her appointment was at 3. She still had a few minutes - she still had time to turn around, to reverse out of the long, winding drive and send an apologetic cancellation email.

No, Larissa told herself firmly. She would go through with this, she wouldn’t back out now. With a deep breath, Larissa wiped her clammy palms on her skirt and stepped out of her car, striding up to the door of the cottage and knocking firmly.

You opened the door quickly, as if you’d been waiting for her, a wide smile on your face as you introduced yourself and gestured for Larissa to come in. Her heart stuttered in her chest as she gave you a once over - you’d been so kind and attentive over the phone, and your voice had been rather attractive, but she hadn’t expected you to be so beautiful. Now she found herself even more nervous than before.

“Please, sit for a moment,” you said warmly, guiding Larissa into your small, homey living room. She perched herself awkwardly at the edge of your couch, her back stiff as a board. “What would you like to drink? I have water, coffee, tea, wine, champagne…”

Larissa clasped her hands in her lap, picking subconsciously at her cuticles. “Wine would be lovely, I suppose.” She was definitely going to need a glass if she was going to get through this afternoon.

“White or red? Wait - let me guess.” You tapped your finger on your lip, giving Larissa a not-so-subtle once-over that had Larissa blushing profusely. “Red?”

Larissa nodded, her heart rate picking up considerably at your adorably wide smile as you sauntered into what she could only assume was your kitchen, before returning a few moments later with a large glass of wine and a glass of water.

She accepted the wine gratefully, muttering out a nervous “thank you” as you sat down across from her and took a sip of your water.

“Before we get started, I just wanted to go over some of the notes I made during our call last week, just to make sure we’re on the same page.”

Larissa nodded, watching as you plucked a notebook off the coffee table and set it on your lap.

“Seeing as you said that this is your first boudoir shoot, I want it to be as comfortable as possible for you. My only ‘rule’ is that you speak up if you feel uncomfortable or self-conscious, and we can go ahead and work through that or stop the session, okay?”

Larissa nodded again, taking a healthy swig of her wine and feeling her cheeks glow with warmth.

“Now I know you’ve come with your hair and makeup already done, as you’d said you would, but I can do touch-ups throughout the afternoon if you’d like. You said you wanted to do the shoot in lingerie, is that still the case?”

“Yes,” she replied breathlessly, feeling more than a little flustered at the prospect of undressing in front of a stranger - a very attractive stranger.

“I assume you’re wearing it right now?” You raised an eyebrow and Larissa nodded sheepishly, her cheeks tinged pink. “I’ll show you where the bathroom is, then, for you to freshen up and get ready, and then we can move into my studio space. Do you have any questions for me before we get started?”

Larissa shook her head no and watched you stand, following your lead as you padded down the hall and opened a door for her. “Take all the time you need.”

Stepping into the bathroom, Larissa shut the door behind her and slumped back against it, squeezing her eyes shut.

She still didn’t know what had compelled her to book a boudoir shoot. She supposed it came down to a desire to feel young and attractive again - years of all-nighters to catch up on work, the stress of running an entire school coupled with dealing with children and constantly putting out fires left her feeling more than a bit run-down. Her age was showing, her crows feet and laugh lines becoming more prominent with each passing day, and she couldn’t help but feel a bit self-conscious.

The photographer had gotten back to her quickly and suggested an introductory call - despite her nerves, she felt too bad to call the whole thing off and say “never mind”, so she’d gone through with the call. You’d seemed nice enough, very enthusiastic but also very considerate when she’d explained she’d never done something like this before.

And now, Larissa stood in your bathroom, slowly removing her clothing with shaking hands to reveal a red lace bodysuit. It wasn’t particularly revealing as far as lingerie went, yet Larissa blushed furiously as she caught a glimpse of herself in the mirror. It wasn’t that she didn’t find herself beautiful - despite her reservations about her own aging, she did possess a certain confidence in her appearance. But the thin lace left little to the imagination, particularly in comparison to her usual, more conservative attire, and Larissa was about to pose in front of a total stranger with a camera - the implications were just now beginning to hit her.

It’s now or never. Larissa opened the bathroom door almost robotically, slipping out into the narrow hallway. You seemed to have heard the creak of the floorboards, because you poked your head out of a room at the end of the hallway and beamed at her - her heart skipped a beat and she swallowed nervously.

“I’m in here,” you said brightly, waiting for Larissa to walk the length of the hallway and join you in your studio. 

The studio space was a large, well-lit room at the back of your cottage. Lots of natural light filtered in through the window, spilling onto a beautiful, vintage-looking rug. An intricately framed mirror stood across from a large bed with a plush, velvet headboard that took up much of the wall.

Larissa didn’t have much time to think about how awkward she felt - from the moment she stepped into the room you were talking up a storm, walking her through the room, showing her your camera and equipment, cracking jokes. She couldn’t help but be enamored with you, and she found herself relaxing slightly as your enthusiasm began to rub off on her.

“I was thinking we could start at the window, the lighting is really great there and it doesn’t feel quite as intimate as shooting in the bed.” You directed Larissa towards the window seat - she perched at the edge of the cushions, unsure of how to pose, but you took over for her in an instant. “Can you lean back against the wall a bit? And turn your head to the right? Just like that.”

Larissa followed your instructions, hearing the shutter of your camera click, her face flushing. She was certain she looked ridiculous, but you kept instructing her to pose and encouraging her happily as if she wasn’t blushing like a schoolgirl - after a few minutes, Larissa found her blush fading slightly, feeling more confident in herself.

~~~

You felt the air leave your lungs when you saw Larissa standing in your hallway in nothing but a lacy bodysuit, looking terribly yet adorably awkward. The next minutes as you started the shoot were no better - you were definitely overcompensating for your attraction to the woman with over-the-top enthusiasm, over-explaining your process and trying to bring the blonde just a bit of comfort.

Being fairly good at your job, you could tell that Larissa was beginning to relax - she wasn’t blushing as much, her posing was less tense, her smile came more naturally. It was then that you were able to admire her beauty in full - and, God, what a stunning woman she was.

She was perched on the window seat, overlooking your lush garden. Sunlight hit her face at the perfect angle, casting a soft shadow across the left side of her face and creating a subtle halo around her perfectly coiffed white hair. Her eyes sparkled like sapphires, bright and clear, and her pale, freckled skin was practically glowing in contrast to the red lace.

You tried your best not to ogle her - she was your paying client, after all, and the last thing you wanted was to make her feel uncomfortable. You normally had no trouble with this, but you’d also never been this attracted to a client before.

“You are very beautiful,” you whispered - the words left your mouth before you could stop them, and your heart skipped a beat as Larissa’s gaze met yours, those deep blue eyes widening and her lips parting slightly as your compliment registered in her brain. Then she smiled, ducking her head shyly, and it was the most breathtaking thing you’d ever seen - you quickly snapped a few photos, Larissa’s smile widening as she heard the sound of the shutter.

~~~

“I’ll upload the photos tonight and start the editing process,” you told Larissa as you led her to your front door. “I have a light workload this week so I should be able to send you the photos in 2-3 days, and then if you want physical copies of any of them, I can help you get those printed.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Larissa replied with a genuine smile - it was your turn to blush. “I’ll be awaiting your email, then.”

“I’ll try not to keep you waiting,” you teased lightly, noting how Larissa’s pupils widened slightly at your tone.

You watched Larissa walk to her car, noting how long and toned her legs looked in her heels - you should have asked her to keep those on, you thought to yourself. Closing the door, you rushed back into your studio and grabbed your camera, then settled on your couch with your laptop - you couldn’t wait to edit her photos.

It was something that kept you busy for the entire evening, and most of the following morning. One of your regulars canceled on you at the last minute, so you ended up having some extra time before your next late afternoon shoot to finish up the editing. You wanted to be done quickly for Larissa, eager for her reaction to the pictures, but it was proving to be quite difficult - your eyes would get stuck on each picture, drinking in the details and getting so lost in simply looking that the editing took ages.

You’d never been this affected by a client before. Sure, you took pictures of beautiful, scantily clad women all the time, you’d been doing it for years at this point. And some of them you did find really attractive. But they were still just clients to you - beautiful, certainly, but strictly off-limits.

But Larissa? There was something about her that captivated you, that made it nearly impossible to think straight - it was entirely inappropriate, but every time you’d caught her smiling in your direction, you’d been overcome with the urge to lunge forward and kiss her senseless. Even now, looking at the pictures you’d taken, your heart skipped a beat.

There was one in particular that you couldn’t seem to stop sneaking glances at. Larissa was lying on her back, her long legs bent, her arms draped over her head. You’d taken the picture from above, and you’d been cracking jokes hoping to make her laugh. And laugh she did - it was loud and unabashed, and it left her with a beaming grin stretching from ear to ear and little crinkles around her eyes. The bridge of her nose crinkled the tiniest bit, bright blue eyes scrunching up. You were grateful for your years of experience, because the sight briefly made you forget how to work your camera - your finger worked on autopilot to snap photos while your brain short-circuited.

Once you finished the editing, you uploaded the photos to your cloud and sent Larissa an email with the link - butterflies erupted in your stomach as your finger hovered over the “send” button, and you realized how fucked you truly were.

~~~

Late the following afternoon, you had another shoot - Sam, a woman you’d taken pictures of on occasion and developed an easy rapport with. After she left, you decided to make yourself some dinner before doing some editing for the evening. Just as the water for your pasta had started to boil, your phone began to vibrate in your pocket.

“Hello?”

The voice at the other end of the line - smooth, sultry, British - made your heart stutter in your chest.

“Hello, this is Larissa. Weems.”

“Oh, hi! I’m assuming you’re calling about the edited photos I sent you?” You tried hard to keep your voice level, to treat her as you did every other woman you took photos of - it proved to be a challenge however, as your voice rose nervously in pitch. Oh, God, what if she was unhappy with them? What if she hated them? What if- 

“Yes, I wanted to thank you again. I wasn’t expecting them to turn out so well, I- well, I’m unsure what I was expecting, but they really have turned out beautifully.”

“I’m glad to hear that.” They’re only beautiful because you’re beautiful. “If there are any that you want physical copies of, you can send me an email with the file name and we can go over exactly what you’re looking for?” You paced about your kitchen, filled with too much nervous energy to stand still.

“Oh, yes. There are a few, I suppose. Actually… I wanted to know if there is any way we could do a second shoot?”

A second shoot? 

You felt your pulse skyrocket.

“A second shoot? I mean, yeah, of course - whatever you want. Do you have a day in mind already?”

Larissa hesitated a moment before speaking again. “Perhaps next Saturday, the same time as this week?”

“Sure, Larissa.” You trailed off, caught off-guard - you’d thought (at least you’d hoped) that Larissa had become more comfortable by the end of her shoot, but you hadn’t dared dream you’d ever see her again. “Is there something you were unhappy with or…?”

“I just really enjoyed myself and… I think this could be good for me.” You could practically hear the blush in her tone - it made your stomach flip.

“Oh. Yeah. I mean, that’s the goal with these photos, you know?” You paused for a moment, your next words slipping out before you could stop yourself. “Did your partner like them?”

“Oh, no it’s nothing like that… I don’t have a partner.”

You could feel your breath catch in your lungs as you processed her words, scrambling to come up with a suitable answer as you worried you’d made things awkward. “Shit, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume. I mean I just thought- you know, you’re so beautiful, I assumed…” Way to make things even more awkward…

“It’s quite alright, my dear.” My dear. Swoon. Her voice was filled with warmth, bordering on teasing, and it made your stomach do a somersault.

“I’ll see you next week then? If you still want to, that is.”

“Yes. I would love to. Thank you.”

“Thank you,” you whispered, before hanging up the phone.

~~~

This time, when Larissa walked up to the front door of your cottage, she felt a little more confident. She knew what to expect now - and honestly, the first shoot hadn’t been as awkward or humiliating as she’d thought it would be. Really, the photos had turned out so well - they’d made her feel sexy, they’d made her feel young again. And you’d been very patient with her, always making sure to direct her into poses so that she never felt helpless - there was a reason your clients spoke so highly of you in online reviews, she supposed.

But there was something else. The way you’d looked at her during that first shoot, particularly when you thought she wasn’t watching, had stirred up feelings inside of Larissa that she hadn’t felt in years. She felt desirable. Under your gaze, she felt attractive - it felt natural to pose in lingerie when you were the one watching her. And it was insane, really - she didn’t even know you, and you were simply doing your job. But Larissa couldn’t help but feel like there was something more there.

You let Larissa into your cottage and, after offering her a drink, directed her to get changed and meet you in the studio. Larissa didn’t miss the way you blushed and squirmed when she stepped into the studio in a matching set - a mesh, sage green bra and panties. 

She still found herself a bit shy about her body - her stomach was on display a lot more this time around, and she crossed her arms subconsciously over her torso.

“That, uh, that color really suits you.”

It was Larissa’s turn to blush, and she smiled a shy, closed-lip smile. You directed her to the floor in front of the mirror, explaining that you would love to use the mirror for some shots. Larissa agreed and sat down, drawing her legs up to her chest to hide the stomach rolls that formed as she sat.

“None of that,” you teased, tapping her knee and instructing her to stretch out her legs. Larissa leaned back on her elbows, her body now on almost full display for you. Your eyes roamed her bare skin - just briefly - and you bit your lip. “You have a gorgeous figure, Larissa. Really, most women would kill to look like you.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that…” Larissa felt her stomach flip at your compliment. You gave her a look that she couldn’t quite place, your eyes briefly flicking over her body. Part of her did feel self-conscious but another part, a part that was quickly taking over, felt alive under your gaze. She felt her body come to life as she posed for you, and she almost found herself forgetting there was even a camera present - she often looked past the lens, directly at you, admiring you in your element, basking in the soft smiles you would shoot at her when you caught her looking.

“Um, Larissa?” you asked suddenly, lowering your camera slightly and cocking your head to the side.

“Hmm?”

“Could we try… maybe we could try taking your hair down for a few photos?” You bit your lip and watched intently for Larissa’s reaction - her eyes widened at your suggestion and you immediately started to backtrack. “I mean, it looks like it was a bitch to put up so I totally get it if you’d rather not! And I mean it looks amazing, you look really beautiful, so it’s nice as is!”

Larissa did have to admit your suggestion caught her off-guard - her updo had become an integral part of her uniform, another part of her mask. She’d figured out long ago that it suited her, gave her an untouchable air of sophistication, and it became a staple for her - there were few people in her life today who’d seen her with her hair down, and so wearing her hair down had begun to feel very intimate.

But something about you, about the entire situation, felt different. She felt safe here in this little studio space. So, after a moment’s hesitation, she smiled and nodded. “I can take it down. It’ll take a few minutes though, there are quite a few pins.”

“I could help - I mean, only if you want me to, of course, sorry.”

Larissa couldn’t help but grin at your chaotic nature. “I would appreciate your help.”

You set your camera on the floor and scooted closer, settling on your knees behind Larissa and running your fingers over the intricate curls. “Wow,” you breathed, before gently beginning to pry pins out of her hair - Larissa felt her cheeks go pink, unused to so much praise.

Your fingers danced over her curls, setting them free one by one. The pressure from the pins was slowly being released, and she couldn’t help but let out a soft moan of pleasure. She felt embarrassed by the noise, but it seemed to embolden you - you began to gently massage her scalp.

“Is this okay?” you whispered.

“Mmh… yes, it is.” Larissa let out another hum of pleasure and leaned into your touch.

“Why do you wear it up like that if it’s so tight?” Your voice was curious as the pads of your fingers reached the muscles at the nape of her neck.

“I just do.” Larissa shrugged, another soft moan escaping her lips - this time, she didn’t try to hold it back. “I found it suits me. And I enjoy the process, I like having my routine and my structure.”

You carded your fingers through loose, platinum curls, draping the long locks over Larissa’s shoulders and moving around to face her. Your eyes were wide as they roamed over Larissa’s face, over long lengths of hair - your cheeks turning red in real time.

“Uh, looks good. The light is kind of coming in from the side, if I go over there and you kind of pose in front of the mirror, I think that would look cool. Maybe we could do some standing shots?”

Larissa grinned, very aware of how you were trying to cover up your own embarrassment at the sudden intimacy. How endearing, she thought. 

After the shoot, when she was sitting in her car, Larissa realized just how good that intimacy had felt. She craved it, and most importantly, she craved it with you. What she didn’t know was that you were sitting on your couch, your stomach flipping as you reviewed the photos you’d taken - completely smitten by her and wondering when you’d get to see her again.

~~~

You did that dance for months - every so often, Larissa would book a shoot, seeming to become more and more comfortable each time. Her lingerie became more revealing, her posing more confident - she often wore her hair down, once she even decided to forgo makeup. Both of you flirted - just a little - dancing around each other, perfectly in sync but never daring to go for more. Every so often your hand would linger just a little longer than it should when you’d direct Larissa into a pose, every so often Larissa’s gaze would travel over your own body as you snapped photo after photo.

Today’s shoot was no different. Larissa wore a white teddy, nearly see-through, with lace around the cups and a deep plunge. Her hair hung in loose waves down her back, one side pinned back from her face. It had stolen the breath from your lungs when she’d entered the room and you’d busied yourself with your equipment as you tried to compose yourself.

Larissa sat down on the bed, legs crossed demurely as she waited for you, hands clasped in her lap. Little did you know that today’s shoot would be very different to the rest - Larissa would make sure of that.

“Do you want to start on the bed today then?” you asked, glancing over at Larissa as you fiddled with some settings on your camera.

“Yes, I think so,” Larissa purred, her voice sending a shiver down your spine.

“Whenever you’re ready.” You tried for a casual smile, hating the way your voice broke slightly - it was getting harder and harder to keep your composure around the woman.

Larissa shifted slightly on the bed and you stepped forward to get a closer angle. The blonde looked straight into the camera, eyes seductive and heavy-lidded, and uncrossed her legs - you snapped a few photos. Then, at an almost glacial pace, she spread her legs, a smirk playing upon her lips.

You were so focussed on her full, red lips that it took you a moment before you glanced down between her legs - the sight had your mouth going dry. Larissa’s lingerie was crotchless - there, between soft, milky thighs, was her pussy, bare and glistening with arousal.

Larissa rested her hands on her thighs, gently squeezing the soft flesh there, before trailing her palms slowly inward and upward, subtly spreading her legs even farther, spreading herself open in the process.

You watched, mesmerized. As if pulled by an invisible force, you found yourself setting down your camera and crawling up the bed towards Larissa, until you were nestled between her thighs. You could feel heat radiating off her in waves - it made desire pool in your core, like a tightening coil. Leaning in, you stopped until your face was inches away from hers, until you could feel her breath fan across your face. Your eyes were glued to her lips - red and plush - as you closed the gap, your eyelids fluttering shut as your lips connected with her own - soft and warm.

A soft sigh escaped your throat when Larissa began to kiss you back, moving her mouth against your own. Her hands landed on the curve of your hips, causing your heart to flutter madly. You pressed forward, your hand resting on Larissa’s shoulder as you guided her backwards - Larissa followed your lead until she was lying on her back and you were hovering over her, your knee inches away from her warm core. “I’m very attracted to you, Larissa,” you mumbled against her lips.

“Do you do this with all the women you take pictures of?” Larissa’s voice was deep and sultry, her eyes half-lidded, but you could tell from the way her fingers twitched against your hips, the absence of her breath against your face, that your answer mattered to her.

“It never even crossed my mind until I met you…” It was true. You’d never desired another person this much before, and you’d certainly never dreamed of pursuing a client. Except Larissa. Larissa, who was staring up at you with wide eyes and rosy cheeks. Larissa, who in that moment wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you down, her lips meeting yours in a hungry, passionate kiss that stole the breath from your lungs.

It was as if Larissa was trying to devour you, her lips moving against yours in desperation. She deepened the kiss, her tongue swirling around yours as her hands found purchase in your hair, nails gently scratching your scalp.

You let out a deep groan as Larissa arched her back off the bed, pushing her body up into your own and letting out a soft whine.

“Fuck, Larissa.”

“Please.”

That one syllable was so needy, so filled with desire that your thighs clenched together of their own accord, the heat between your bodies becoming absolutely unbearable. Your hand traveled lower and lower, caressing Larissa’s waist, her hips, her thigh, your fingertips memorizing the softness of her skin - every dip and curve of her body. Your hand reached her inner thigh and Larissa let out a gasp, her legs twitching. 

“Can I?” you breathed, pausing in your ministrations. You were met with a breathy ‘yes’ and an enthusiastic nod of Larissa’s head - then with a whimper as your fingers brushed against her wet folds.

Larissa tightened her grip on your hips, squirming slightly beneath you as your fingers explored her cunt, trailing up her slit to gather the juices there and smearing them over her clit. 

“Mmh, right there, keep going.” Larissa’s voice was becoming breathier as she began to roll her hips. It was so incredibly hot, how you could see the muscles in her thighs and stomach tighten as she ground her pelvis into your fingers. 

Larissa arched her back off the bed, tilting her head back as she let out a low groan when your fingers began to tease her entrance. “P-please,” she whimpered.

You happily obliged, letting out a moan of your own when you slipped a digit inside of her hole and felt her walls clench needily around it, drawing you in. 

“You feel so good.” You leaned down to press your lips to Larissa’s - the kiss was hungry and desperate and hot, the blonde’s breathing labored. Her hands slipped under your shirt and clawed at your back, leaving angry red scratches in their wake - the pain felt delicious and you dragged Larissa’s bottom lip between your teeth in response. 

Your finger pumped in and out of Larissa at a steady pace and you soon added a second finger. The pads of your fingers found her sweet spot while your thumb began to flick gently across her clit, drawing a whine from her throat.

You drew back slightly from the kiss to catch a glimpse of Larissa’s face - she took your breath away. Her face and chest were flushed, her eyes were heavy-lidded, mascara-coated lashes fluttering slightly, lips parted as her jaw went slack. When she noticed you watching her, the corners of her lips quirked up slightly into a seductive smile, and she squeezed your waist.

“You’re gorgeous,” you breathed.

“Then kiss me.”

You didn’t need to be told twice - you descended upon her again, pouring all of your passion and desire into the kiss as your fingers curled inside of her and your thumb massaged her sensitive clit. You swallowed her moans as she got closer and closer to the edge, fucking her through her first orgasm - and keeping up your pace even as her thighs trembled and her nails dug into your skin.

A second orgasm quickly followed, then a third, then Larissa was gently pushing your hand away.

“I need a moment,” she admitted between deep, labored breaths, a soft smile on her face as her eyelids fluttered shut.

You happily scooted up the bed to join her, settling next to her and pressing a kiss to her temple as she nestled into your side. Propping yourself up on your elbow, you watched Larissa come down from her high, allowing yourself to freely admire her stunning features.

“Larissa?” you whispered, resting your hand on her hip and gently stroking the soft skin.

Larissa hummed in response, burrowing her head deeper into the crook of your neck and placing a kiss to the side of your throat - it sent a shiver down your spine.

“I have a confession to make.” You bit your lip, your pulse hammering as Larissa leaned back slightly to fix you with a curious gaze, her eyes wide and blue and gleaming, kiss-swollen lips parted slightly. “I have wanted to do… this since our first shoot.” As if to emphasize your point you caressed the curve of Larissa’s hip as you watched for her reaction.

A contented smile spread across Larissa’s face and she leaned in for a kiss, her lips warm and comforting against your own. “I know,” she whispered with a smirk.

“You know? What do you mean you know?” You suddenly remembered that Larissa had mentioned during your intro call that she was the principal of Nevermore Academy and your eyes widened. “You can’t read minds, can you?”

Larissa chuckled at your perplexed expression. “No, I can’t read minds. But I’m afraid you’re not very good at hiding your attraction.” Her tone was teasing and light, and you could feel your cheeks turn scarlet.

“God, I’m so sorry if I creeped you out,” you mumbled, burying your face in the pillow.

“I found it quite endearing actually.” Larissa’s voice was inches away from your ear, her breath washing over the side of your face before she placed a kiss to your cheek. “In case you failed to notice, I’m attracted to you as well.”

Larissa’s fingers found your chin and she tilted your head to face her. Her eyes swam with warmth as she inched towards you until her lips captured yours in a languid kiss.

“Larissa?”

“Yes, darling?”

Darling. Your breath caught in your throat.

“Would it be… I mean would you be interested in… Would you like to-”

The blonde watched you struggle, her shoulders beginning to shake with laughter before she (mercifully) cut you off. 

“Are you trying to ask me on a date?” She grinned at the blush on your cheeks as you nodded your head. “Yes. I would be interested in going out with you, darling.”

You couldn’t help the smile that spread across your face as you leaned in to kiss Larissa again, your head clouded with euphoria and your heart pounding. Her hands came to grip your waist and she flipped you onto your back, hovering over you as her lips began to mark every inch of you she could reach, her hands slowly unbuttoning your shirt.

It was something you’d been picturing over and over again since you’d first laid eyes on Larissa - but reality was definitely proving to be better than even your wildest fantasies.

x

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[cece693]

The Better Brother (Damon Salvatore x M! Reader)

A small pet peeve of mine regarding Damon Salvatore fics is how people sometimes gloss over the wave of self loathing this man possesses. Since childhood he's had to bear constant comparisons with Stefan—how he wasn't enough, not as kind, etc.—so in my mind, if he does find someone he would absolutely push them away. That gave rise to this fic!

Summary: Damon finally found the one, however, thoughts of self-hatred and the constant comparison to his 'better' brother had him doubting if he even was deserving of such future.

tags: sad, in my feelings, break up, Damon thinking he's underserving, self hatred

Damon leaned against the bar of the Mystic Grill, the amber liquid in his glass catching the dim light. He swirled the bourbon absently, his mind not on the drink but on the man standing at the dartboard, a soft laugh escaping his lips as he teased Stefan for his missed throw.

M/N had come into Damon’s life like a hurricane—wild, passionate, and with a kindness that made him feel human for the first time in decades. He wasn’t supposed to fall this hard. But now that he had, every insecurity Damon carried weighed heavier on him.

He drained the glass and set it down with a little too much force, drawing a glance from M/N. Damon met his eyes and forced a smirk, but it didn’t quite reach his own. M/N tilted his head, his expression softening with concern, and made his way back over. “What’s got you brooding over here?” he teased, bumping Damon’s shoulder as he slid onto the stool beside him.

Damon shrugged, reaching for the bottle to pour himself another. “Just thinking about how life is unfairly cruel to us handsome, brooding types.”

M/N didn’t laugh. He didn’t fall for Damon’s deflections anymore.

“You’ve been distant all week,” he noted, his voice quieter now. “What’s really going on?”

Damon’s grip on the glass tightened. He hated how easily M/N saw through him, hated how good he was for him. And most of all, he hated himself for ruining what they had before it could even bloom. But Damon knew how this story ended. It was always the same. Stefan was the hero, the savior, the one who got the happy ending. Damon was the shadow lurking behind, destined to lose.

“You should go back to your darts game,” Damon said, his voice cold now, deliberately so. “I’m fine.”

M/N stared at him for a long moment, then sighed. “I know you don’t believe this, but you don’t have to push me away every time you get scared, Damon.”

Scared.

The word stung because it was true.

Later that night, Damon found himself alone in the Salvatore boarding house. The fire crackled in the hearth, casting long shadows across the room, but its warmth didn’t reach him. He sat on the edge of the couch, elbows resting on his knees, a photograph clutched in his hand.

In the photo, they were both smiling—genuine, unguarded. Damon hardly recognized himself in that moment, caught off guard by M/N’s infectious energy. The picture had been taken at the Mystic Falls Winter Festival, a day Damon had reluctantly agreed to attend. M/N had dragged him to the Ferris wheel, teasing him about being afraid of heights.

Damon hadn’t been afraid—not of the heights, at least. But the way M/N had looked at him at the top, with so much trust and warmth, had sent a different kind of fear coursing through him. For a brief moment, suspended in the sky with M/N’s laughter ringing in his ears, it felt like the world wasn’t so bleak.

He clenched his jaw and stared at the photograph for a long time, his fingers trembling slightly. “You don’t deserve this,” he muttered to himself. “You don’t deserve him.”

With a sharp breath, he shoved the picture into the drawer of the side table and slammed it shut. This was the right thing to do. Even if it hurt. Even if it tore him apart.

The next day, Stefan found Damon in the parlor. The sunlight streaming through the windows only emphasized how wrecked the oldest Salvatore looked. He was slouched in the armchair, a near-empty bottle of bourbon in front of him, his eyes distant and unfocused, as if he had been staring into nothingness for hours.

“What did you do?” Stefan’s voice cut through the oppressive silence of the room, sharp and demanding.

Damon let out a low chuckle, the sound bitter and hollow. “Relax, Saint Stefan,” he drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “I did you a favor.”

Stefan’s brows furrowed as he stepped closer, his tone tightening with frustration. “What the hell does that mean?”

Damon finally lifted his gaze, his trademark smirk flickering onto his face. “He’s all yours now,” he said, the words carrying a mix of resignation and self-loathing.

He didn’t need to ask to know what Damon meant. “You broke up with him,” Stefan said, his tone flat, more a statement than a question.

Damon shrugged, his nonchalance forced and brittle. “Better for everyone that way,” he muttered, grabbing the bottle and taking another swig.

Stefan wasn’t having it. He crossed the room in two strides and snatched the bottle from Damon’s hand, setting it firmly on the table out of reach. “Better for everyone or better for you?” he snapped, his voice cutting through Damon’s feigned indifference.

Damon’s smirk flickered. He slouched further into the chair, rubbing a hand over his face. “Don’t get all noble on me, brother. This is what you wanted, isn’t it? A clean slate? No more complications? No more me standing in the way?”

Stefan stared at him, incredulous. “You really think I wanted this? That I wanted you to destroy the best thing that’s ever happened to you?”

“Spare me the lecture, Stefan,” Damon said, his tone sharp, though it lacked its usual bite. “He’ll be fine. Hell, he’ll probably thank me someday.”

Stefan shook his head, his frustration mounting. “You don’t get it, do you? M/N doesn’t want me. He never has. He chose you, Damon. And instead of fighting for him, you pushed him away because you’re too much of a coward to believe you deserve him.”

Damon’s jaw tightened, his hands curling into fists on the armrests of the chair. “Coward? Is that what you think I am?”

“Yes,” Stefan shot back without hesitation. “You’re so scared of being happy, of someone actually loving you for who you are, that you’d rather sabotage it before they can leave you. You think that’s noble? It’s not. It’s pathetic.”

Damon stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor as he loomed over Stefan. “Don’t you dare lecture me about love, Stefan. You’ve been handed every happy ending on a silver platter while I’ve had to fight for scraps.”

“And this time, you didn’t even fight,” Stefan countered, his voice soft but firm. “You just gave up. And you hurt him in the process.”

Damon’s shoulders slumped, the fight draining out of him as quickly as it had come. He turned away, staring into the dying embers of the fireplace. “You don’t understand,” he muttered, his voice barely audible. “He deserves better. Better than me.”

“Maybe that’s not your choice to make, Damon. Maybe he already decided that you’re what he wants. And maybe…just maybe, you should let yourself believe it.”

Damon didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The words sat heavy in his chest, pressing against the fragile walls he’d built around his heart. He clenched his jaw, his eyes burning as he stared into the fire, willing the tears to stay where they were. Stefan sighed, his frustration softening into something closer to pity. “You’re going to regret this,” he said quietly. “And when you do, I just hope it’s not too late.”

He turned and left the room, leaving Damon alone once again.

The silence that followed was deafening, broken only by the faint crackle of the fire. Damon sank back into his chair, staring at the empty spot on the table where the bourbon bottle had been.

Deep down, he knew Stefan was right.

But knowing didn’t make it hurt any less.

And that was the curse of being Damon Salvatore.

[oh-saints]

Hi I don’t know if you’ll get this but I have an idea for Rúben Dias, he starrs crushing on the female photographer for Man City and his teammates start teasing him, he doesn’t want to admit his feelings because he thinks the photographer is dating someone ( but she’s actually single and is just introverted)

aaaaahh this feels close to home bcs i'd gotten mistaken so many times by men due to my introvert nature /sigh

silent

rúben should really stop interpreting things out of hand on his own and start asking the right questions instead.

rúben dias x photographer!you

wc: 2.7k

note: here's is my comback piece! (is that even a valid word?) i actually had this idea in mind for a while and i love writing this bcs i can see he could make this kind of cute mistake! this actually hits closer to home, too, considering that i'm an intovert as well LOL but as usual, I happen to write at dawn so this is not beta-read yet.

happy new year too, everyone! i wish you'll have a blessed year ahead &lt;3

“cupcakes!”

you groaned inwardly, that must be jack grealish. only the 100-million man would call you with overly sweet pet names like that, and he did it so often no matter how many times you corrected him that you had a real name during the first month of your employment here. now entering your third month, you’ve long given up, but you’d renamed his contact to be jack greasy on your phone.

“come sit over with us!”

unlike your nickname, though, you hadn’t given up on his persistent request to sit amongst his set of friends because good lord could they be so boisterous their laughter sounded more like a boom in your ears sometimes. their energy simply went off the roof and your introvert self could never handle it well.

you’d have your time to photograph everyone in the bus later anyway, so you gave him a polite smile, without another word, and proceeded to sit down beside your fellow media team.

you could hear jack screaming protest “aw, come on, cupcakes!” as you took your seat. his friends were laughing on his face at your rejection.

if you have your way, though, you’d badly want to be assigned to the calmer tide of the bus. the likes of julian, kevin, bernardo were more suitable for your kind. but being the one responsible for the disposable camera and all of city’s short off-pitch videos, jack and his circus were more than a matchmade in heaven for a better result.

before you had more complaints to mull over, your colleagues turned to face you and started babbling about an upcoming short video the both of you would have to make. the plot, the script, down to deciding who’d be best to be asked for to star in the video.

“i think rúben dias would do just fine.”

being a newbie, you nodded along the names he mentioned because in all honesty, you didn’t exactly know who is who and which is which until now. two months splattered all over the men’s and the women’s team, as well as the academy, was pretty much a guarantee you’d missed out on someone.

but you always, no matter how busy you are, spared some time to browse on the player before you met them, in case it was someone you should be worried for, or someone you should be thankful of for their media-darling persona, or someone you should be working twice as hard because they didn’t know what to do. worse, someone you’d worked together before but you forgot.

for rúben dias, though… you didn’t know which one of the categories above fitted him best. you were rendered speechless at your search bar result. you could bet your entire month salary that he was someone you had yet the chance to create a content together because if he already did, you wouldn’t have that face of his wiped off your brain.

which was exactly why you should be worried.

you had never worked with someone that looks like adonis when he decides to ascend himself from olympus. or so you’d like to think rúben was what adonis would’ve looked like if greek mythology happens to be true.

sadly, nobody warned you that he was even more beautiful up close, as he strutted his way to your creator team, with a tousled hair he kept tussling against, as well as the bright smile and warm laugh he’d drop here as he went through pre-production brief. his voice was so melodic it soothed all the soreness to your eardrums—thanks to jack grealish—in one simple video production, and you mentally thought you could replay the edited video later whenever you needed to go to sleep, like an asmr or some sort, because it really felt like a blanket on a rainy day.

your heart ached at the sight because my goodness… he was simply too beautiful for your own good.

it shouldn’t be doing all that jumping and leaping and drumming, though, because those were the early signs of you getting biased.

and it could only mean one thing in every professional language possible: bad.

with your very generous pay check on the line, you couldn’t afford to fail. so that day, you made a promise to yourself to do what you had to do, and thankfully it was what your introvert self do best.

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

while you knew what to do, rúben—on the contrary—seemed lost.

no, the portugese was lost.

contrary to popular belief, footballers are actually smart. at least, if they are not book smart, they’re definitely street smart. rúben would like to think he’s got a bit of both worlds, so it could justify his own judgement of you.

his eyes were keen, as his job required him to do so, and he’s got an incredible sensing, enough to read a gigantic elephant in the room when there was one. the combination scanned your change in attitude on the day he first worked with you and the present time.

you were so friendly and eager to work with him, welcoming his extended hand as he introduced himself to you for the first time. he remembered your smile, blinding against the bleak manchester weather but instead of feeling cold, he only felt warmth and fuzzy all over his body.

but as the filming session went on, your smile was close to non-existent, just like the probability of the two of you running into each other again. he initially thought it was only because you got so many takes already and the job exhausted you, but he later realised you were avoiding him. as subtle as you could anyway.

at the beginning, he only thought you missed the way he waved at you. or the time when he thought you put his row of seat last for a mandatory picture in your disposable camera, for aesthetics’ sake.

the time when he offered you a ride home, though—that was the final confirmation. the weather had started snowing on some days, and you were certainly freezing by the look of your shivering shoulders and teetering teeth, so rúben offered you a ride home. but you turned down the offer, ever so politely like usual. yes, yes of course you had the rights but the most logical thing was to accept them instead of waiting for the next bus, no?

(oh, believe him, he knew she was waiting. he managed to parked far away from your sight but close enough to see that you did indeed wait for the next bus to arrive and take you to the nearest station. he knew, and he remembered that day because it was the only day he had to fight himself from running down the street just to give you another layer of coat.)

his first instinct was to think that he’d wronged you somehow during the filming. was he demanding? was he not up to your par of filming standard? was he not good enough for your cameras?

but james, your fellow co-worker, the one who worked together with you for this project, gave him an utterly confused look. “have you seen how the videos turned out? you were brilliant, rúben. and no, i don’t think i’ve heard any concerns from her about your ethics.”

so what did he still not do right that could’ve upset you?

rúben didn’t like where this was going because you’ve kept him intrigued. you kept him on his toes, bouncing lightly like a child full of curiosity. you kept him thirsty for more information about you and what makes you tick, lowkey in hope to bring out the smile rúben himself didn’t know he had missed seeing.

and if he discovered that he did indeed upset you somehow, and was somehow responsible for the disappearance of your shy smile, then he’d like to right them right away. he has to.

with that mentality, rúben took the chance to clock out earlier—which was like the seventh wonder of the world around etihad academy—in order to catch a glimpse of you on your off-work routine. he’d set himself resolved to only ask necessary questions, not more nor less, without any hidden agenda. no wishy washy, unlike his previous trials.

rúben did actually catch you for a split second. his beak was already opening, he’d only needed his voice box to produce the sound to the question in his mind, but the scene unravelled before him halted everything in him. every particle of his body, every molecule of his brain.

a black car swerved into the lane to the lobby, a pretty prestigious car at that, and the way your face lit up so brightly reminded him of the day you first worked together. it was a sight that rúben missed, it was a sight that rúben longed to see again.

he was so blinded by the ethereal view that he completely forgot his own plan, and watched as the black car swallowed his portion of small happiness of the day.

was that your boyfriend? if yes, then did you take rúben’s friendliness as a romantical advance to you? if yes, then was that the reason why you immediately put up a china wall between you two? if yes, then was he that protective or was he simply possessive?

rúben couldn’t deny his own infatuation of you. maybe it was why he was adamant to right things good between the two of you. but if you did in fact have a boyfriend, then he should find a way to reduce and silence this growing feeling—be it really infatuation or merely curiosity.

“does she have a boyfriend?”

but desperate times need desperate measures, and rúben saw ‘the black car incident’ was his sign to speed things up in order to find a concrete answer. even if it included asking jack grealish about you.

jack snorted, rather snobby. “how would i know, mate?”

“i thought you guys are close.”

“your definition of close is concerning,” jack replied as he shut his locker. “why don’t you ask her yourself? aren’t you the type to just charge at it first, think later?”

“i would’ve if she didn’t give me a cold shoulder.”

“have you tried?”

rúben was the one who didn’t hold back his snort this time. “of course i did.”

“then maybe you were asking the wrong question, mate.”

＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊＊✿❀○❀✿＊

as much as rúben hated to confess that jack actually had a point, he had to give hands down. he might be asking the wrong question, he might be asking too much question, he might be asking the right question with the wrong approach.

bottom line, he’d concluded himself that he had to try until he succeeded. each time in different approach, different variables. logically speaking, it should take him somewhere for a clue. if it didn’t, it should at least tire you enough to have you spell the answer to his queries.

rúben had gathered enough information that you and your team had wrapped up filming for christmas and new year’s content, complete with kids involved and all. you were supposed to stay in the editing room, and working late on it because there was a teaser—which fell into your line of work under “short videos”—to be uploaded tomorrow evening.

he purposefully slowed his pace for anything that did not require physical activities and trainings, resulting in him also staying late to finish some of his homework—his affectionate nickname for video trainings he’d like to execute at home, in the comfort of his abode and plush suede pillows—so he could match your pace of work. he planned to catch you off guard the same way as ‘the black car’ incident.

at 8, you finally went out of your cave, precisely like his little rat had informed him before. so of course, you were startled to find rúben already standing against the railing in front of your office.

“rúben,” your voice got stuck in your throat but rúben thought it was a cute squeak. it was also a better response, rúben thought, too. you could’ve spat at him or shooed him away immediately. “what are you doing here?”

“i’m—” rúben thought about lying for a second, but he decided it’d contribute nothing to a start of a friendship. yes, friendship, because it was the bare minimum, no? “i’m waiting for you.”

your eyes widened, and that was when rúben noticed the golden specks on the orbs of your eyes. heartbreakingly stunning, solely because rúben only noticed this now.

you shifted the weight of your body from your right leg to your left one, and rúben found it endearing because he noticed that was an early sign an introvert—you, in this case—was starting to get nervous or uncomfortable. rúben hoped it was the former because that’d put you as cute as an awkward lone penguin.

“is there anything i can help you with?”

“yes, i’ve been meaning to ask you something.”

with his devastatingly beautiful look, his velvet voice and his intensely deep brown eyes, your heart palpitated so fast and so irregular that you were afraid rúben could see them falling and getting back into its designated place like a bungee jumper.

or maybe the rope snapped on its way down and never found its way up again, depending on the question about to be fired at you. at this point, your mind went funnily white, and you were ready to succumb into either pressure or temptation, depending on the question he’d fire you with.

“do you hate me?”

you seemed perplexed at his blatant question, but he’d take that reaction over anything else because it was something, especially compared to the invisible wall you’d put up since the first time you both had worked together.

“do you?” rúben pressed his voice gently, while he took a step closer to you. slowly but assertively.

the movement snapped you back to reality. you should not heed into pressure, but there was no use in lying because in reality, you really had no reason to hate him. if you had your chance, you would’ve done things the other way around.

“no, i don’t.”

another step closer. “but have you ever hated me?”

realising the 6-feet centre back was doing, you involuntarily moved backwards in the same amount of steps that he did, albeit the distance reached was certainly and significantly a huge gap you could never keep. “no, rúben—”

before you could finish your sentence, he obliterated every single space left in between the two of you and cornered you to the nearest wall. “then do you like me?”

you should be running, you should be fleeing, you should be screaming down the hill. you should be anywhere but here, trapped in between the long, strong and sturdy pair of his arms, the very same one he used to defend himself and the ball from the opponent. the very same one your eyes couldn’t lie but appreciate its masculinity.

rúben noticed the miniscule movement of your eyes, despite your tightened body language, and it brought a little smile on the corner of his lips. maybe he had indeed asked all the wrong question in all the previous times he’d had the chance.

“tell me,” rúben then pronounced your name in the way no one else could, so soft and velvet like a fine cashmere being caressed against your eardrums, that shivers ran down your entire body as if you were struck by a lightning. “please tell me that, at least.”

so paradoxic, you thought inwardly at the sensation. and you supposedly hated the way he confused you, but you didn’t this time—you didn’t even detest the way he seemed enjoying this whole thing, by the way he pulled of a subtle smirk that busted your knees slowly but surely—and it made you even more crazy because what the hell was this?

you tried to mask it off by looking him straight in the eyes. well, tried to, at least, because the moment your eyes were connected with the milkiest brown orbs that reminded you of a hot chocolate on a wintry day, you couldn’t help but look away. “what do you want me to say?”

rúben didn’t fight a full smile from blooming on his face, as the tip of his finger aligned your face gently to face his. he really likes the fact you gave him a fair fight to remain indifferent still, even when everything else of your body failed to be your auxiliary. “do you like me?”

“i do—”

“then would you like to have a dinner with me tonight?”

[maxislvt]

Satisfaction

Summary: Wanda really likes to take care of you. Even when you whine, pout, and insist on escaping her grasp. She knows how to put you back in your place.

Warnings: Smut, vaginal fingering, coercion, subspace technically, soft!dom!milf!wanda, sub! reader, no gendered terms

Author's note: First fic of the year!!! Go Me!!! Also, this is related to the milf Wanda Christmas fic but it's mostly because I'm obsessed with that dynamic so you don't have to read that to enjoy this!

Wanda never expected to enter the new year dating her next-door neighbor, but she was happy to say it. Spending Christmas and New Year's Eve with you was wonderful. You looked cute playing with the twins and the camera she bought you. You were already perfect and now you were perfectly hers. Everything was unbelievably great. Then, reality came along and tried bursting her bubble. 

At a staggering 5:30 in the morning, Wanda's peaceful sleep was disturbed by a bearing alarm that she certainly didn't set. 

"Dig through the ditches and burn through the witches, I slam in the back of my Dragula"

The alarm was so loud that it had practically thrown Wanda out of sleep, but you merely stirred awake. Despite the hangover you should've had, you quickly hopped out of bed. Wanda was just a little bit faster than you. She pulled you back down to bed without thought and wrapped her arms around you. "And what has my favorite photographer in the whole wide world up so early?"  A few kisses to your cheek and forehead was all it took for you to lay back down. "I'll make breakfast later. Let's just get a few more hours, okay? 

Wanda's raspy voice and affection almost pulled you back into the land of dreams, but you were on a schedule. "I'm sorry, I promise to be on the first schedule for the new year. I can't be late." Rejecting Wanda had always made you upset, but it hurt more now that she was your girlfriend. It took all your self-control to free yourself from Wanda's addictive warmth. You were shocked when the only protest you received was a disapproving groan and a soft pout. "I won't be gone that long, I promise! Just a 3-hour shift and I'll be back home before you know it." Getting ready was deceptively easy. Wanda had brought some of your things to her house earlier in the week. Though it embarrassed you to admit, leaving Wanda's house just to be less than a mile away was torture. Everything was quiet 

Then, she attacked. Wanda walked up behind you just as you put your shirt on. Her hands slipped underneath the fabric. Before you could whine, she began attacking your neck with kisses. Smoldering hot teeth had no mercy on your soft skin. One kiss after another until it began to bruise. "I think someone still owes me a couple hundred in kisses," She whispered seductively before nibbling on your earlobe. Her arms wrapped around your body and pulled you back flush against her chest. "Come on, just stay home. Please?" 

You nearly collapsed on the floor. "Ah, don't do that! I don't have anything to cover them up with!" That information only served to invigorate Wanda. All your joints had turned to jelly, but your girlfriend didn't give up her torture. "It's just a few hours," You mumbled. A gasp escaped your lips as Wanda's finger broke the barrier of your underwear.  "Why are you making it so hard to leave," You asked with a heavy whine. Of course, you received no answer as Wanda's hand went straight for the wetness between your legs. Her slender fingers ran up and down your slit. "Fine, fine! I'll stay.

Wanda rewarded your compliance with another kiss. A real one this time. Her tongue invaded your mouth without a second thought. She easily dominated you with her experience and explored it without concern. She'd suck all the disobedience out of you if she could. "Why are you making it so hard for me to take care of you, hm? It's so much easier to give in and let yourself be my precious little baby." Before you could protest, she dragged you back to the bed to continue her assault on your senses. "I'll even call in for you, give me your phone." 

Wanda was all over you. Her neatly painted nails left heavier streaks of red. Sparkles and cotton filled your head and you thought you were floating. No one had ever made you feel that way before. It was like magic. Your body would only do what Wanda wanted it to. Even if you were embarrassed and wanted to argue you could call in yourself, you reached over to the nightstand and gave it to her anyways. 

"Thank you, sweetheart," She cooed and rubbed your thighs. Wanda called your boss. When the line clicked, her voice changed completely. "Hi, I hope it isn't any trouble to you but I'm Wanda, Y/N's girlfriend. You see, they haven't been feeling well and I was hoping they could have the day off," The tone she spoke in was a lot more professional compared to the sultry tone she used to drag you back to bed. "It's fine if not, I just don't want to risk someone else getting sick too."

"Oh, no it's perfectly fine! I'm glad someone called me, Y/N will work themselves to death if you don't watch them. Just say we canceled for the day!" 

The sound of your boss's voice immediately broke the trance and you were overcome with guilt. While your coworkers spent hours putting together documents and planning for the months ahead, you'd be swaddled up and pampered like a baby. That wasn't right. "No, W-" Wanda's fingers slipped into your open mouth and your lips closed around them instinctively. For a moment, they just sat there. Heavy on your tongue and stiff as a board. Then, Wanda began to move them in and out of your mouth. It was embarrassing, but your body seemed to love it. 

"Oh, thank you so much! I'll make sure they're in tip-top shape for their next shift!" Wanda nodded and hummed in agreement a few more times before hanging up. She pulled her fingers from your mouth with a wet pop and smiled down at you. "Now, are you gonna play nice or do you need some more convincing ?" Her hands moved to pull down your pants and tossed them to the side. She gave you a quick kiss on the cheek when you nodded. "Good, now let's get you into some comfortable clothes." 

"Thank you," You whispered, unsure what else to say. Your brain would constantly switch back and forth between embarrassment and confusion. Why was Wanda talking to you like that? Was she trying to tease you with the finger thing? Is it okay to be wet after all of that? It didn't matter what the answers to your questions were, you wanted more. Pride be damned. Wanda made you feel good. 

✭✭✭✭✭✭✭✭

Wanda hadn't planned on teasing you so much. She just wanted to keep you taken care of and healthy. It wasn't her fault you'd suddenly become so compliant and mushy. You were just too cute. Walking around the house in nothing but your underwear and her baggy shirt, Wanda couldn't help but claim you. Getting you worked up was so easy. All she had to do was hold you close and whisper sweet nothings in your ear, then you'd be putty in her hands. 

That didn't mean she'd make it easy for you. If anything, putting you in such a headspace made it infinitely harder. All night you found yourself squirming and even full-on grinding against her trying to relieve the ache between your legs. Yet, it didn't matter to Wanda how obvious your need was. She wanted you to use your words. 

"Is everything okay? You've been awfully whiny, sweetheart. " Wanda bit back a smile hearing you whine as you rolled over into her lap. "I'm sorry, I don't know what 'hnng' means." She placed her book down on the nightstand and held your hips in place. "I don't know what your huffing means either," She teased. Instead of answering your obvious pleas, she simply raised her eyebrows when you guided her hand to space between her legs. "Awe, do you want me to rub your belly?" She asked in that sickeningly sweet tone she'd been using all day. Wanda kissed your face as she scratched your stomach.

You whined out in frustration but accepted the affection nonetheless. It wasn't fair. All you had to do was say a few words but your brain simply refused to. Your tongue set heavy in your mouth as you continued to whine. Grinding against her was impossible too. Only Wanda could satisfy and she'd happily do it if just asked. After several minutes of dumbly attempting to grind against her lap and whining, you finally spoke. "Touch me, please?" 

Part of Wanda, one much crueler and sadistic, considered pushing you further. Just to see how desperate she could get you. She decided to play nice. "Awe, baby, why didn't you just ask? I would've helped you hours ago." Her hand slipped underneath your boxers and toyed with your clit. Slow, tight circles sent shivers up your spine and caused more wetness to leak out. "Oh, you're such a messy thing but mo- I promise to help clean you up when we're done." 

Had you been lucid, you would've caught Wanda's slip-up. You were just too needy to notice. All you could focus on was the burning heat in your stomach begging to come out. You clung to your girlfriend and grinded against her hand. "M-more," You stuttered out. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head once Wanda finally thrust one of her fingers into you. You weren't a virgin, but no one had ever gone as deep as Wanda did. Just two of her fingers had reduced you to nothing but a pile of whimpers and moans. 

The small whimpers that came from your mouth were addictive. "That's it, I'm here to make it better. Just let it out." Wanda didn't miss the way your moans seemed needier as she praised you. Her fingers curled against your g spot and she hummed. "You're just the cutest little thing, aren't you?" She spread her fingers apart and enjoyed the way your walls fluttered around them. "One day, I'm going to fill you up with my cock and you're gonna look adorable!"

An image popped into your head. One of you bent over on the bed and fucked senseless by the thick red dildo you weren't supposed to see the first time you did. The thought alone sent you crashing into an orgasm. Your walls spasmed around your girlfriend's fingers until a sticky white substance leaked out of your center. Wanda's fingers continued to pound into you until you could no longer ride out your orgasm. Once you had finally come down from your high, you rolled off of Wanda and plopped down onto the bed. 

For a moment, there was calm silence. You attempted to regain your breath as Wanda lovingly played with your hair. You leaned into her touch and let her hold you until you could finally speak again. 

"I…I, uh, want to take a bath…together, please." 

Wanda kissed your cheek and smiled fondly. "I'll get the water ready. Just relax for a bit." 

[esamastation]

Part forty-three of Shizuroth, aka, the SOLDIER General's Self Saving Shizun.

Ao3 link.

Previous parts: twenty-seven, twenty-eight, twenty-nine, thirty, thirty-one, thirty-two, thirty-three, thirty-four, thirty-five, thirty-six, thirty-seven, thirty-eight, thirty-nine, forty, forty-one, forty-two,

-

"No, it was more like this? Legs bent more, and feet like this, yeah? I remember it because he corrected me on it, I had my foot aimed inside too much, and I wasn't in balance."

"Oh, yeah, yeah, he corrected me on that too…"

Kunsel looks between the two SOLDIERs, Second Class Keyes and Third Class Alme, both holding the same pose. "Okay, that's good, hold like that for a moment."

It had taken all his savings to buy a camera on short notice, especially one of the instant cameras, but it was well worth it. With it he managed to capture most of the Training Session second hand, photographing the other SOLDIERs doing what Sephiroth had taught them in that frantic session.

While the pictures develop, Kunsel takes out his notebook. "Okay, what did he say to you, exactly?"

The notebook is already full of quotes and lines from Sephiroth, some of them verified by other SOLDIERs word for word, others contested. The information and the pictures would soon be gathered into one easily distributable leaflet - already, most everyone he'd talked to wanted copies.

"When do you think it will be ready?" Alme asks eagerly.

"I think I got around to everyone - just James and Zadrian left," Kunsel says, adding final notes to the quotes. "They're out on a mission. I'll throw together a mock-up once I've gotten around to them."

"Let me know when, I'll proofread it for you."

"Will do," Kunsel says.

"Heads up," Keyes says. "It's the last batch."

Kunsel looks up to see the three SOLDIERs, the most recent ones to have been called into the labs, heading towards the lounge area. "Hey guys. Everything good?"

"I failed my affinity test," the youngest says while the others shrug uncomfortably. "I don't know if that's good or bad."

"Yeah," another one of them says, looking worried. "Does this mean we can't become Seconds?"

"No, no, the tests are for something else," Kunsel says reassuringly. "Some new thing they're trying. Everyone's going through them, and I don't think they will affect regular injections."

"Sunder passed the test, and he's having a time," Alme comments. "So I think you maybe got lucky."

"Oh, okay," the other Third looks a bit uneasy. "Um. I'm going to head out, I really need a shower. I'll see you guys later."

"Yeah," the quiet one agrees, and they head off together. The Third Class that spoke first waves them off but sticks around, looking worried.

Kunsel hums and glances at Alme. "What's going on with Sunder?"

"I don't know, but they've barely let him out of the labs," Alme says, a bit uncomfortable. "There are all these injections, and they want to keep him under observation for every one. Raiton and Decker are in there too."

"And a bunch of cadets," Keyes adds.

They're all quiet for a moment, uncomfortably aware of the fact that a lot of cadets are way below the usual recruitment age, because the SOLDIER program doesn't have a recruitment age, and trying for SOLDIER is an easy way to get to Infantry early.

"I guess whatever they're looking for, it's easier to get before SOLDIER Mako injections?" Keyes mutters.

"Or they just have a bigger pool of candidates," Kunsel agrees.

The youngest SOLDIER in their little circle looks confused. "Shouldn't that be a good thing? Aren't they coming up with, like, improvements to the program? Maybe the cadets will get better injections than we will."

There's another uncomfortable silence. "Maybe," Kunsel says slowly. 

The rumours of Sephiroth going all glowy before the Incident have been going through the SOLDIER floors, and it's not exactly a secret that it was something new and incredible. The fact that the Science Department is taking bigger interest in the SOLDIER program all of a sudden is without question related.

And there's the rumour of Sephiroth having been given an extra large dose of Mako just before the Incident. Everyone knows Sephiroth's Mako injections are the highest in the program. For anyone else, they'd just give them Mako Poisoning. If the Science Department is trying to recreate what happened to Sephiroth…

That's not something you can just talk about though.

"Genesis isn't happy about it," Keyes points out.

"The Crimson Commander?" the young SOLDIER asks excitedly. "Why not?"

"Well. Because. Uh." Keyes throws a helpless look at Kunsel.

"He's just worried the Science Department is getting a bit…" presumptuous and careless and injection-happy, never a good thing for the SOLDIER program, "... overzealous with their… improvements."

"Aren't improvements a good thing, though?"

Clearly the kid has never heard of the early days - when some SOLDIERs developed Mako stones in their insides. Or the ones that had to be put down. "We just hope they take some caution," Kunsel says awkwardly in face of the kid's confusion. "Mako isn't something you should throw around willy-nilly."

"... But isn't that what Shinra is all about?"

Kunsel laughs, and he's not the only one. "Ain't that the truth," Keyes says and claps the kid on the shoulder. "I gotta go get some sleep - I've got a night mission coming up. You got everything you needed, Kunsel?"

"Yeah, thanks. Good luck on your mission."

The SOLDIERs disperse, aside from the youngest, who stands there, still confused, scratching at the back of his head.

"I don't get it," the young Third Class says. "Did I say something funny?"

"Kinda," Kunsel admits with a smile. "Don't worry about it. You're pretty new, huh? Part of the last group that passed the candidate process?"

"Yeah! My name's Zack," the kid says and offers his hand. "Zack Fair. Nice to meetcha, sir!"

"Just call me Kunsel." They shake hands. "Are you getting the hang of everything alright?"

"It's been a bit weird lately, but yeah," the new Third Class says. "Mostly me and the others have been running around in the slums, taking out monsters."

That's what most Thirds do, yeah. "And how is that going?"

"Eh, I guess it's fine?" Zack shrugs. "I mean, we were given swords and stuff, and it's not like the beasties down there are much of a challenge. I come from Gongaga, and lemme tell you - after Touch Mes, everything else is easy."

Kunsel blinks at that declaration and then snorts. "Touch Mes - you mean the… frogs?"

Zack gives him a disgruntled look. "You don't know what they do, do you?"

"Well, I've heard about them…"

"They put you to sleep and then you wake up as a frog," Zack says. "They are a menace and the worst thing you will ever fight."

Kunsel laughs. "I guess you're well prepared for SOLDIER then, having already gone through the worst."

Zack grins and then gives him a curious look. "So, uh, why were you taking pictures before? Was it for some kind of magazine?"

Kunsel looks down at his notebook. The pictures have finished developing, showing Alme and Keyes striking poses. "Kinda - it's for a tutorial I'm putting together. You wanna take a look?"

-

Ducklings and a puppy

[qwardivior]

DEMON BUSTERS!— Zenitsu Agatsuma

Next Part>>

<<Previous Part

Alright! It’s been awhile since the previous ad campaign but it’s finally here! (Fun fact, this was supposed to be out in time for Zenitsu’s birthday but uh…. yea). This time we’re gonna talk about Zenitsu! If you’re new here, in short this is a modern kny au where people have been dying to demon attacks at alarming rates, so the Demon Slayer Corps went through a massive update and rebrand in the 1980s and now they’re called the Demon Busters!

You can view the previous installment here!

—LORE DUMP INCOMING!—

Zenitsu gets quite the bad rep in this au. As one of the most disliked busters, it’s safe to say the public isn’t impressed by his service. Instead of comforting victims he’s screaming along with them! Plus his sleeping habits are the worst! I mean what kind of professional falls asleep on the job?! When they’re supposed to be protecting you from man-eating demons no less?! In fact it seems like he only puts on his brave face around the girls (any of his attempts at being “cool” fall flat on the floor.) But he’s trying his best! Honest!!

Like in canon, Zenitsu never even wanted to be a Buster in the first place. The only reason why he’s here is because his adoptive grandfather Kuwajima Jigoro decided that minimum wage jobs were not gonna cut it after he racked up some pretty intense debt trying to please one of his exes. After successfully completing the final selection, you’d think he’d gain some self-confidence or a back bone but nope! He actively runs from danger and tries (and fails) to pick up any girl that looks at him for more than 5 seconds. Hell, he even tried his best to pick up Nezuko, according to her, until he got his act together that wasn’t happening! But there’s more to him than what meets the eye.

In this au Zenitsu is often paired up with Inosuke (much to his chagrin) due to Tanjirou and Nezuko’s status as “part time busters”. He also ends up becoming friends with Kanao as well. Him and Nezuko’s relationship also isn’t as one sided mostly due to Nezuko keeping her sense of self. They get to know each other, become friends, fight demons together, and hey, maybe that leads to something more. But the most important change in this au is that Zenitsu is more actively pushed to better himself. He’s essentially forced (encouraged) by his friends to keep up with them and stand on his own two feet. He stops panicking at the mere echo of a demon, and learns how to fight when he’s awake much sooner. And who knew that once he learned how to be a reliable buster and stopped panicking like it was his first day on the job that his rating would go up?! Shocker, right?

Of course, his new found popularity didn’t stop anyone from looking at him sideways when they’d heard that (allegedly) somebody he knew was giving out Buster secrets to the demons for free. Naturally, Zenitsu thought they were targeting Tanjirou at first, but he quickly learned that wasn’t the case after a couple of odd “demon” sightings an one arrest later. The mole wasn’t related to Tanjirou at all! It was…someone else he knew. Just the thought of it makes his blood run cold, no one would stoop so low as to do that right? And he’s such a talented buster too… oh well. There wasn’t much he could do about it now. He just hoped that he could keep the people closest to him safe and alive…

Also did you know? Zenitsu is the first of Tanjirou’s friends to meet his mom! (And subsequently, the rest of the Kamados. Their bakery’s Danish is absolutely superb by the way!)

(P.S.: Photographer’s note here! No, we couldn’t stop him from posing like that. He was insistent that we “get his good side for the ladies”…)

———

Thanks for reading this lore dump! Despite all the ragging I did on him in this au, Zenitsu is actually one of my favorite characters and I honestly hated how he didn’t seem to get as much lasting character development throughout the manga as Tanjirou and Inosuke. I mean yeah, there was his fight in infinity castle, but throughout the plot nothing really changed for him. So in this au I wanted to correct that! I also wanted to make him and Nezuko’s ( eventual) romance more plausible and less weird. I know she eventually fell in love with him, but I really want to show that development now that Nezuko has a voice in this au. (Same for the other canon couples, but we’ll get to that later ;) ). As always thank you guys so much for your support on this silly au! See you guys in the next one!

[witchpassing]

catching strays [3]

[previous.] [first.]

Two weeks pass: long enough for Katya to think this is all over, not long enough for her to get the taste out of her mouth. All attempts at a palate cleanser have failed and failed miserably; when she finally did pull, she couldn’t get that stupid fucking pilot out of her head for long enough to finish. And, yes, obviously it’s good that she didn’t have her, obviously this is idiotic, self-annihilating, pure thanatos shit. The sucking gravitational pull of a point of no return.

Doe was good with her tongue, so good she could contract the world down to a single white-hot point. Would Rook have been good like that, too?

Thoughts of this kind squirm in the basement of her brain as she walks to the tram stop nearest her office. Quiet winter dark, the falling snow gentling the city’s lines and edges, giving her fidgeting attention nothing to hook itself into.

When she gets to her stop, Rook is there.

She stands unseen for a while, a few yards down the street, watching Rook’s breath haze in the cold light, the snow settling on the shoulders of her beat-up tanker jacket. Her left hand, the one with the carbide fingers, is folded deep into her pocket; Katya remembers something she heard once, about neural-throughput prosthetics aching in winter. A million openers spill unbidden through her brain, most of them off-the-rack, all of them dead wrong. Buy me a drink? Small world. Did you tell anyone what we did? I’m sorry. Do you come here often?

“Hey,” is what she goes with in the end, as she mounts the platform’s steps with a rock in her stomach. “I know things didn’t… I mean, hi. You look good.”

Staring down the barrel of a cold and silent nothing.

“Listen, sweetheart,” Jesus fuck, girl, say something, “I think we got off on the wrong foot last time, why don’t we…” A hateful note of desperation in her voice, no matter how hard she tamps down on it. “... There’s a nice place a few blocks from here, I could buy you a drink. Start things fresh. You know?”

“Don’t know you,” Rook says, and turns away.

Snow continues to fall.

Rook, someone is saying. A woman on a bench a little way along the platform, a woman you could see anywhere. Mousy brown hair and eyes that are probably green, and Rook, standing by her shoulder, is looking down at her like the most important thing in the world. Words in soft voices, muted by the snow.

Was that a friend of yours?

No. A mixup.

Oh. The tram-

And Katya just has to stand there, while this presumably very nice lady gives her an apologetic smile, and boards the tramcar with Rook, and leaves her on the platform alone.

-

And then, months later, impossibly, she comes back.

It’s the end of another work week - which is to say that it’s Thursday fucking evening - and Katya is getting drunk in a tolerable little place, just off the street that used to be called Empire Avenue and is now called something else. (This four-days-on-three-days off thing, by the way, is the worst of the myriad ways in which the Reds are reinventing the wheel. What the fuck is a reasonable adult supposed to do with a three-day weekend every week?)

Rook comes down the stairs around seven, boots loud on the concrete, sees Katya as Katya sees her. Their gazes meet across the room, just for a second, and the need in the pits of her eyes is not entirely human. Katya knows that hunger, the secret names the bureaucrats gave it, what it takes to grind it so deep into the meat of a human brain that it never washes out. And yet it still feels wrong to see it here, in a well-lit room full of real people.

She’s closer now, weaving between the tables at a pace that is, in Katya’s ex-pro opinion, a pointed agony of self control. A man who’s been drinking here since mid-afternoon fails to get out of the way; she walks through him, spills him against the bar. Noise, clamour; what the fuck, man? - Aw, you’re fine. Leave it. Nothing registers. Halfway across the room. Katya makes herself look somewhere else. Photograph tacked above the bar (details illegible from here; Polaroid blur in white square, a faint suggestion of faces). Bartender, young, shaking head and doing nothing. Dog-eared poster for a nobody band. Rook is at her table now.

If she thinks Katya is going to make this easy for her after that little performance at the tram stop, she’s got another thing coming. Katya keeps her eyes front and doesn’t say a damn thing. Makes Rook stand there, empty-handed, for as long as it takes.

“I’ve been looking for you,” is all Rook has to say for herself, in the end. Katya takes a mouthful of her drink, just to make her endure silence for the maximum possible number of seconds. (Sweet and red, and not a third as strong as she’d like now.) Then, looking up at last, with all the lilting bile that pushing-fifty years of frigid dyke may draw:

“Is - that - so. Because, Rook, I really got the impression that you never wanted to see me again.”

Pain passes somewhere beneath the surface of the ex-pilot’s face. No bruises this time, and Katya was right, she does look worse without them. She leans in, puts her palm on the table with the nervous air of a conspirator. Glances back at the stairs as she does it. Still scared of being caught, Katya thinks. The fear Katya shared with her in the half-light of the apartment walkway seems contemptible to her now, early in the evening, among the tolerant people.

Involuntarily, like a spasm, she thinks about slapping her. The way the bruise would bloom over her cheekbone, purple-black and so very earned.

“Katya, that–” Another twitchy checkup on the door, another inch closer. Trouble with one-exit rooms, is it? “That was my – therapist.” She hears the way the word hangs on Rook’s tongue, like it’s not the one that person is filed under internally. An insane stab of jealousy, low in her gut. The woman who was with her on the tram platform, barely printed upon Katya’s memory, a smear of brown hair and greenish eyes. Would have paid a little more attention if she’d known what she was. “You told me nobody could know. It was an order.”

So the order took, then, went in deep and stuck there. That’s good. That’s really good, actually, and the best thing to do now would be to walk out of here and never talk to her again. All that fantasising about Rook’s head between her thighs that was just that: fantasy, an understimulated psyche playing with annihilatory dreams like a schoolgirl writing letters to an axe killer.

Hell, she could even make Rook pay her tab for her on the way out. That’d be fun. Instead, she says: “If you wanted to see me so goddamn bad, why didn’t you go to my house?”

Rook licks her lips. “Because I didn’t want you going to mine.”

“The pound?” Katya snorts. “Idiot. As if they’d let me.”

Silence, the ambient clink and murmur of the bar, into which Katya says nothing. It’s Rook’s move again; she’s the one wants this, needs this. Not Katya. Lesk is a big city; there are other women. Other transsexuals too, for that matter. You see a lot more of them around these days, and they go for an older lesbian the same as they ever did. Perhaps that uptick in frequency takes the edge off the fun a little, dulls the feathery thrill of a rare find, but you can’t say it isn’t convenient.

Besides, she has something to lose now. She’s safe, the knowledge of that abortive hookup sealed airtight between Rook and herself by the pilot’s damaged brain. If she does something to Rook, lets Rook talk her into doing something to her, that might change.

“I’ll-” Rook tries to stop talking, it seems like, but it’s only a moment before something inside her gives. The plea forces itself out, barely above a whisper. “I’ll beg, Katya. If that’s what you want. I know I made it - difficult, for you, that night. I was upset, that’s all, it can be easier-”

“Fuck me,” Katya hisses, leaning back in her seat, disgust coiling hot in her abdomen - yes, only disgust, only ever disgust. It was just a job, for God’s sake; just a thing someone told her to start doing, one day at base, and she clicked her heels and said yes, sir because it meant a nicer salary and better leave and she hadn’t read the fine print. “You actually would, wouldn’t you. Is that a threat, Rook? Going to throw yourself on your knees and kiss my shoes, something like that? Make everybody in this room think I’m sick the way you’re sick?”

She thinks to herself, as a good person would would, as a sensible person would: Shouldn’t I get to stop? Even the other sinners in the programme, the ones too unlucky, too proud, too slow to worm out from between the teeth of the tribunals, the ones they lined up against the wall - they got to fucking stop.

This is what she tells herself now, in the moment. Later, in memory, the fact that she sat there in all her burning disgust and did not leave will weigh like a headstone.

Rook gives a long, shuddering breath, as if finally realising the depth of the pit she’s hanging over. When she speaks again, it is low, urgent. Last stop, and she knows it.

“Look. Katya. I know you’re angry.” For a second, the shape of the phrase makes Katya think Rook is trying to propitiate her, make it all okay in some fawning, facile, idiotic way. But the hunger pushes through, a feverish pulse: “Angry at me. Angry at a lot of things. The Reds, the world they took from you, the way everybody’s come around on all the shit you hate. Your life - the life you had, the one you wanted - you were comfortable, right? You were doing okay, you were making something of yourself, nice house and a nice car and a retirement fund, and now that life is dead. Casualty of revolution. Right?”

“I’m getting the impression that, back on the program, they didn’t hit you as often as they should have.” A blind jab, tossed out in search of tender flesh. She doesn’t find it, Rook doesn’t stop, faster and faster, pushing ahead like she’s closing in on something.

“This, all of this - it isn’t working for you. I know, I saw the room where you live, where you sleep - it was dead too, a dead place. It doesn’t work for you any better than it works for me, no place for things like us in the clean bright world they’re building–”

Katya rears to her feet, spitting through her teeth, “We are not the same, hound-”

Rook holds her gaze, takes the fury and does not flinch, though the thing behind her eyes with all the twelve-syllable neurochemical names cowers from it like an animal.

“Yes, we are. Handler.”

For a moment, neither of them moves. People are looking - of course people are looking, they’re making a scene. How loud did their voices get, towards the end there? How many heard the incriminating words? Another black pin in the map of places Katya can never go again.

Somehow, that seems to be what tips her over the edge, the final drop that bursts the river: that this is a tolerable place to get drunk, and Rook has spoiled it for her.

“First, you’re going to pay my tab,” Katya says, as she shrugs into her coat. “Then we’re going back to my place; you can pay for the cab, too, while you’re at it.”

Rook’s throat works. “And then?” she says, knowing, needing to hear it.

“Then, Rook,” Katya answers, “You’re going to get what you fucking deserve.”

[emsgwenstan]

Personal or professional?

Chap 4| chap 5| chap 6.

Larissa Weems x fem(carpenter/joiner) named reader

Words: 3k

Warnings: smut, insecurity’s, aftermath of drunkenness, signs of anxiety- no self worth.

Note: mmmkay, so shit happens! Anyway feelings aren’t exactly admitted but Violet tells Larissa something important. No wonder I guess.

The early morning air seeped in through the stone walls and coated me in a thick layer of cold, waking up at sometime around 6am, I sat up slowly trying not to disturb Larissa. I was surprised at how solidly id seem to have slept even though it wasn’t for very long, i didn’t have nightmares and didn’t wake to any random pain my body decided It thought i should have either, the most surprising of all though was that i didn’t feel hung over. shuffling back i rested against the headboard and yawned so hard i might have dislocated my jaw and my eyes watered from how tired i am.

Just sitting staring out to space for a while trying to wake up, Larissa started tossing and turning frequently and it ripped me out of my trans like state, tilting my head to the side I watched as her breath would intake and exhale, pushing and pulling the hair that had fallen over her eyes, she lay facing me and I can’t help but shift down a little to prop my head in my hand and rest on my elbow. With a nimble yet ruined hand I tucked her hair away from her face and stared at her lovingly and for a while I stayed like that, all I want is for her to be comfortable and have a longer peaceful sleep.

After contemplating, I rose from the bed and retrieved my clothes from the arm chair while also finally taking in her decor, it was beautiful all the thick materials and trinkets, the large paintings and photographs that lined the walls, her aesthetic was a mix of deep rich colours with a lighter twist in some of the furnishing, all of it was utterly her, completely Larissa. Pacing quietly to the ensuite bathroom I looked at myself in the huge mirror and wiped the smudged mascara from under my eyes, in the reflection I saw she had a large claw foot bath and a walk in shower that was lined with different soaps, body washes and most of all hair products like, treatments with her toning shampoo and conditioner to keep her silver spun hair to perfection, it was so cute.

I was conflicted weather or not I should just keep on the pyjamas she lent me and wear them until I die or actually get changed, ultimately the latter was the chosen option. Exiting the bathroom I left the lended clothes in the designated Laundry hamper and made my way to the door leading back out into her office to retrieve my jumper and stoke the almost dead fire. My nerves were skyrocketing at the thought of the impending conversation that’s going to happen when she wakes up, I’m not going to cower and tip toe out of her home like a one night stand, not that we actually even went as far to have sex, but that’s besides the point. Suck it up Violet, deal with your own actions.

An hour and a half later Larissa woke alone in her crimson sheets, the sun fully risen and her dark curtains flowing the slightest bit from wintery breeze. Completely dazed at the sight she sat up and slid her feet into the flats she had beside her bed and stood grasping the satin tan coloured robe off the same arm chair as my clothes had rested on. Before making her way to the curtains, out the corner of her eye Larissa’s reflection from the wall mirror was what caught her attention, she internally berated herself with almost walking out looking the way she did, her little bedside clock read 7:46am and again she scolded herself for sleeping in. Quickly she shifted to something more presentable only her face and hair changed, her lips painted a blood red and eyes meticulously covered in natural looking eye shadow and mascara, her hair pulled into a neat low bun.

Drawing back the curtain, there sat on the balcony was me watching over the rail with my feet tucked under myself and a monotone expression washed over my face, Larissa didn’t hesitate to open the door and step outside. I knew she was there, of course, I could hear her, I sat in silence not really knowing what to say. It was a good minute of silence once she sat down opposite the small metal table. “How did you sleep?” Is what I came up with to break the quietness, even though I tried rehearsing what to say for the past hour and a half. “Well, and you?” She said almost if she had barbed wire wrapped around her neck preventing her from sounding sure. Ok so it’s like that. “Fine…” I began. “do you… uh- remember-.” I continued. “Yes.” She said hardly letting me finish. “Right…” I trailed. Another beat of silence. “Do you regret it?” She asked quietly. I paused really thinking about how to answer, I’m sure she did, regret it I mean- I don’t know… I’m kinda lost. “If you do then I suppose, but if not…” I started. “If not?” She asked actually looking at me, we had both avoided eye contact until this moment. “If not then I guess no, I wouldn’t regret it.”

Larissa relaxed into the chair and I was as stiff as a board, did she just basically say she wanted it to happen or am I reading into it too much? I looked back down the railing wondering why there were no students, it’s a Saturday, surely kids would be out and about. “I’m afraid I slept in to late to bid them all farewell, they all went home for the Christmas holidays.” She said as if she could read my mind. “And the staff?” I wondered. “Yes, them to, it’s just me.” Does she not have a family to go home to? Why would she still be here? I nodded at her statement as the cold wind started to pick up causing me to shiver, how she’s not dying of hypothermia because of her lack of layers I don’t know.

“I have to go soon, I need to go to one of the houses I’m renovating and polish a bench top.” I said tucking my hands into the pocket of my jumper. “Oh.” She said. Why does she look disappointed? I sat staring at her releasing that she is now in fact alone and will be for a while. It was always hard for Larissa at this time of year, no matter how much work she’d get done she still had to prepare and consolidate with others for the next year. I feel like saying could you possibly imagin spending all this time alone especially around Christmas, but I won’t because then I’d be a hypocrite.

“Would you like to come with me?” I asked not even registering what I asked until it was too late. “Oh I would want to be a bother.” She said. “You wouldn’t, no one’s going to be there, if your not to busy.” I said as if I was completely confident. “Sure, I suppose I can miss working for a day.” She said. Recounting back to the previous micro conversation I spoke again. “What time did they all leave? Surely we would have heard them.” Larissa quirked a brow. “I thought for someone who knows all about a house and buildings infer structure that you would know it’s not easy to hear through two and a half feet of stone.” She spoke with a hint of sass and a whole lot of tease.

I was taken a back at her new found tone. “Well then headmistress, do tell me what else you know about my job you seem oh so knowledgeable about it.” I quipped, sharing her mirthful voice. “Oh no I mustn’t continue, I might put you out of a job.” She smiled with her eye’s playfully glaring. “Oh shut up, don’t start something you can’t finish.” I said laughing, finally letting myself gradually come down from the nervous high. “You never know, I might know more than you think…” she said with a chesty giggle. “Fine, Larissa can you tell me what a Kimberly large is?” I spoke coming to a stand and towering over her sitting position. Nothing, I could see that all she could come up with was blank, nada, not a clue. “What in gods earth is that?” She asked after accepting defeat. I stepped away and walked back to the door, turning looking at her over my shoulder I said. “It’s a cutlery tray.” With the most innocent expression known to man. Well woman.

Larissa stood from the table with a smile plastered to her lips and headed back into the room as well. “Sorry for leaving the door open by the way, I overthought it because if I close it you wouldn’t know I was out there and if I open the curtains then you would wake up, but then I really didn’t think about how cold it is and I needed some air- so… sorry.” I said in a rushed voice. “Don’t worry about it vi.” She said in a sweet tone. “Ok well if I’m to come with you I’ll need to get changed.” She explained knowingly. “Right.” I turned on my heels and left the room to put on my boots and wait for her.

Stepping out into the room Larissa was in the most beautiful dress I’ve seen on her yet, even prettier than the one she wore to my house that time for dinner, it was just past the knee and was an adorable shade of pink that complimented her complexion, she had a matching coat that had fake white fur around the perimeter of the sleeve cuffs. I don’t even think of a snide remark about the fact we’re only going to someone’s house for me to work, I’m more worried about her getting it dirty and ruining the expensive fabric, but who cares I will always encourage her to look incredible, suitable for the conditions or not, if she’s happy I’m happy, I don’t think it’s physically possible for Larissa to not look good anyway.

“What? To much?” She asked wearily. “Absolutely not it’s stunning, just don’t get dirty now will you headmistress.” I said cheekily. Larissa rolled her eyes and adorned her gloves. Opening the door she looks back at her new desk again and smiles, we set off down stairs and made our way to the truck and drove down the nevermore driveway. “Are you hungry?” She asked. “Not really I don’t usually eat until lunchtime, but we can get you something.” I said. “No I’m ok, I just thought maybe you wanted something.” She said looking out of the passenger window. We sat in comfortable silence until we reached town, although I felt like I was slowly suffocating from my thoughts, terrible thoughts, horrible thoughts. I had to keep averting my side eyed gaze at her porcelain thighs, Larissa’s dress rode up and her coat fell to the sides of her gorgeous legs and my god. Keep it together.

Driving down a few back roads we arrived at the house, getting out I paced straight to the mailbox to get the spare key. Larissa followed behind and waited patiently for me to open the door, the house its self wasn’t overly wowing but it was quaint and homey, perfect for a younger family or older couple. “Ok wait here and I’ll go get my stuff.” I said exiting the house. Larissa took in the interior and thought it was sweet, charming in fact, she wandered through the empty halls watching her step on the drop sheets that lay on the floor, the walls were freshly painted with a light grey and the ceilings weren’t finished yet due to electrical issues with the lights, she walked into the first room she could find to take a moment to slow her rapidly beating heart, it turns out Larissa was quite flustered from the car ride too, and the morning in general.

“Larissa?” I yelled. I could hear her heals coming down the hall. “Hey, I got you these just be careful with your earrings.” I said holding out my pink pair of earmuffs. “Oh thank you, that’s thoughtful.” She said quietly as she slipped them on, her earrings did get caught and I tried to help her. “Here, let me help.” I practically launched myself towards her, I grasped one of the sides and tucked her ear in place trying my best not to hurt her. We were standing so close and my eyes wandered from the side of her head to her cheek and around to her lips, I slowly put down my hands and place them on her hips, I could feel her breath on my cheek. Kiss her, but remember Violet. Slowly I started to lean in, but as my eyes flicked up to see hers, they were already trained on me, in an instant I tense up and take a step back clearing my throat, now looking as red as a tomato.

I gave a shy smile and took in her appearance again. “You look cute.” I mimed, knowing how hard it is to hear with them on. Larissa also displayed a little smile with a light blush, she could hear her pulse in her ears clearly now and the butterflies in her stomach were going wild. I put on my spare pair of earmuffs and started the process of polishing the bench. Larissa watched in awe as it began to shine, but she wasn’t just looking at the material itself she also watch how my hands flexed around the machine and my shoulders moved in tandem with the actions. I could feel her eyes on me and I tried my best to not turn around.

Cutting the polisher off I spun on the spot and waved her over, I grabbed her forearm and pulled her to stand in front on me and place her hands on the machine so she could have a turn. What a stupid idea. My hands were on hers and I turned it on again continuing my ministrations, however the only thing I could think of was how her ass was pressing into my stomach and thighs, for a while everything was fine but when she turned and gave me her award winning smile and nose scrunch I just melted. Before either of us got hurt I turned the polisher of and took off my earmuffs placing them on the bench, Larissa did the same carefully talking them off her head, as I turned to face her again, Larissa looked at me for a moment then grabbed my face with both hands and kissed me, like really kissed me.

I was in shock but didn’t pull away- why would I? it was rough and urgent but fuck it was delicious, she was delicious. Larissa manoeuvred me to sit on top of the counter without breaking the kiss, I hopped up and fisted the sides of her dress and the plush skin that’s hidden beneath it, I felt her tongue lick at the the seem of my lips and with out hesitation I let her enter and explore my mouth. Her hands gently scratched at my scalp before she trailed them down the front of my jumper, her delicate fingers moving tantalisingly slow over my breasts as I grope her ass. Just as she went lower towards my stomach, I pulled back breathless with my eyes closed I, couldn’t see the look on her face as I did so.

Larissa stoped her movements and placed her palms on my thighs, she too was breathing quite heavily, the whole situation was so intense more so now that I pulled back, I didn’t want to but I can’t let her feel the parts of myself that I’m so ashamed of. Her thumbs stroke at my legs in a reassuring manner and her head ducked ever so slightly to catch my attention since I peeled my eyes open. “Sorry… um, we should get going now.” I said quietly it almost echoed through the empty house- it certainly echoed through Larissa’s mind, she was taken aback and so confused, but if I needed to stop, she wouldn’t begrudge me of that.

I quickly pack up my stuff and walked back to the truck in silence, safe to say I felt like shit, I don’t want to offend her in anyway because she’s perfect, beautiful, incredible in every sense of the word and I’m just… well, me. Turning the keys in the ignition and setting off again, I glanced at her fidgeting hands in her lap, hesitantly I placed my own on top of one of hers, Larissa looked at me directly as my eyes were trained on the road, my expression displayed a huge amount of guilt. She was watching me so intensely try to wrap her head around what’s going on in mine, I turned to her and really looked into her eyes as an apology, as a ‘it’s not you it’s me’ kind of look, she engaged the silent conversation with ‘it’s ok’ while also cracking a little smile. I returned my eyes to the road and never let go of her hand.

“Oh, see that house over there? It’s my dream home!” I said excitedly, my eyes lit up and my demeanour changed drastically. “That horrid, run down, abandoned looking one? I don’t even want to ask why.” She chuckled. “Look at it though, it has sooo much potential, imagine all of the work I could do to fix it up, it could be beautiful, and its would be massive on the inside.” I said, Larissa looked at me as if I were insane, to be fair if someone said they wanted to live in a shit hole like that I’d be pretty perplexed to. “Mm I can see that now…I suppose.” She hummed watching it fade from view, after a short couple of minutes we made it back to the work shop where I put away the truck and ushered Larissa to my personal car that stayed there overnight.

Without asking I went strait home in dying need of a shower and led Larissa to take purchase in the lounge room to wait, politely I offered her a drink in which she asked for a tea, I made it and placed it on the coffee table beside her. “Thank you darling.” She whispered smiling up at me once I straightened up. “I’ll be out in a minute.” I said leaving her to go to my room. Larissa sat in comfortable silence casually sipping on the drink, before she set it back down she took ahold of the poetry book that still remained in its previous place, as she opened it there were lots of little sheer sticky notes on the pages, only scanning through the highlighted ones there was one in particular she read over and over.

‘She was beautiful, but not like those girls in magazines. She was beautiful, for the way she thought. She was beautiful, for the sparkle in her eyes when she talked about something she loved. She was beautiful, for her ability to make other people smile, even if she was sad. No, she wasn't beautiful for something as temporary as her looks. She was beautiful, deep down to her soul.

She is beautiful.’

Larissa kept going throughout the book to relise they were all pertaining to women, it gave her enough satisfaction to know that I did take an interest to woman and that she wasn’t the only one.

Out of the shower, I reapplied light make up and dressed in baggy casual clothes -because I don’t have anything else- and stepped back out into her presence, Larissa set the book back in place before I could see and stood up walking towards me. “Do you want me to take you back now? Or do you want to go somewhere or watch a movie?” I asked. “A film sounds lovely.” She said. “Would you rather out here or in my room?” I questioned. “Where ever you’d like.” She answered. I turned and motioned for her to enter my room, she took off her heels, shed herself from her coat and left it on the floor beside her shoes and sat on the edge of the bed.

I let Larissa flick through Netflix, she’d look at one, contemplate it, watch the trailer, then move to the next one, It wasn’t a bother, it gave me more time to unabashedly watch her. While her eyes were glued to the screen I inched my hand closer to hers and lightly fiddled with her fingers, observing red painted nails against slightly chipped pink ones, our hand were close in size but her fingers were skinnier than mine, ultimately shes skinnier then me in every way. So lost in deep thought my hand traveled up her arm and to her shoulder, then neck, then face. Larissa was doing everything within her to not move, she didn’t want it to end, she was so afraid that if she breathed to hard I would stop.

Snapping back to reality I didn’t pull away, I tried to embrace it, that I did. I grasped the remote in her hand and crawled slowly to straddle her lap, though I didn’t sit on her I mearly hovered, I’m far too heavy for her. Larissa kept her body still and only moved her eyes. “I dont know what I’m doing.” I said quietly, I had her face in my hands and peered deeply into her cobalt eyes. “That’s ok sweetheart, you don’t need to… but, what do you want?” She asked at the same level of voice. For a moment I thought of how to say what I want. “I… I’d like to-uh… I want to touch you.” I said sounding like an inexperienced teenager with a burning blush. “Then touch me.” She said, her pupils dilated and her voice dripping with seduction.

But of course Violet does something stupid and starts to have a minor panic attack. Larissa’s expression turned concerned, she slung her arms around my neck, pulled me flush against her and stroked at my damp hair. “It’s ok, your alright.” She cooed in my ear, my hands and thighs were trembling and burning from clenching the muscles in my legs to stop me from putting my weight on her. Slowly I pulled back. “I need to tell you something.” I said shakily, I know I have to, she needs to understand what the fuck is wrong with me. Larissa nodded and waited patiently for my breathing to slow and to take a pause to muster up the courage of what I’m about to say. You haven’t spoke about this for 15 years Violet, what makes you think she’ll care?

“I’m not sure how you’re going to feel about this but…” I took in another deep breath. “When I was 20, I met a man and we fell in love…” Larissa nodded for me to continue. “We were together for 3 years and by the time I was 23, we were engaged. We wanted to start a family before we got married…” I said, Larissa’s brows knitted together wondering where I was going with this. “So… we tried to have a baby, but after a while, it wasn’t working. I went to the doctor and I was told that-.” I cut myself off to restrain any and all tears. “I was told I couldn’t have children, that I’m infertile.” I said. Larissa thinking I was finished told me that’s ok and that she’s very sorry for how unfortunate that is. “It doesn’t change my view on you though Violet.” She said brushing the hair out of my face.

“But… he thought he wasn’t trying hard enough.” I continued, Larissa’s face and stomach dropped at the statement. “So, he tried harder, more frequently, longer.” I said flinching at my own words. “And when he got tired of it… he threw me away. He told me I was useless and selfish for not being able to give him kids, and then two weeks later he told me that he got another woman pregnant.” I said filling with a little bit of relief as I finally let it out. Larissa was utterly dumbfounded, she sat in shock hardly knowing how to comprehend what I just said. “That’s why I moved to Jericho 15 years ago.” I added. “And… since then, I haven’t- been with anyone else.”

Oh. She thought, this makes so much sense now, Larissa understands how this is an issue for me and considers how I must be feeling. “I’m so unbelievably sorry that happened to you darling. I’m so proud that you told me. But I still remain unfazed, I will not hold you to a different light because of your past, I do not begrudge you of something that has been done to you and happened to you… I promise, it actually makes me more akin to you sweetheart.” She said softly.

I took the opportunity to smash my lips against hers, so full of passion, so full of love, on my behalf anyway. Our teeth and tongues clashing together being completely in sync, the both of us let out breathy moans from the pleasure, Larissa grasped the sides of my thighs and pushed me down to completely sit on her, uncomfortably I did so and without her disrupting asking me to get off I stayed there. In a bound of confidence I pulled her flush against me to access the zip of her dress, she let me drag it down the expanse of her back and pull it down her shoulders, pulling away from the kiss I observed her bra clad breasts and my mouth practically watered from the sight alone.

She reached behind her to unclasp her white lace bra watching me the whole time, the slid the straps down her shoulders and removed it completely and tossed it to the other side of the bed. My eyes flicked down and her breasts were on full view, I brought my hand up to her chest and palmed them slowly, Larissa’s head lulled to the side and let her eyes flutter close. Her skin was so soft and so smooth compared to the skin of my hands, but she didn’t seem to care. I leaned in closer to kiss her shoulder then eventually up her neck and jaw. Larissa tugged at the hem of my shirt wanting me to take it off. I pulled back yet again and lifted it half way before I paused to meet her gaze. She nodded and I continued to strip it off.

My own red bra was displayed in front of her, Larissa’s breath hitched as she took in the sight, my blush returned and all I could do was cover my stomach. I wasn’t too phased at my own breasts and the stretch marks on them at this moment, from the way she was staring I couldn’t tell if she was repulsed or just looking, she removed my arms from in front of me and her sight lowered to my stomach, obviously if we are to continue she’d have to see but all I wanna do is put my shirt back on.

Larissa traced her fingertips along my sides and hummed in what seemed to be delight. “So pretty.” She muttered. “I’m sorry.” I said at the same time, she looked at me through heavy lidded eyes. “What for?” She asked. “Well I’m not as beautiful as you, I’m sorry that if you want to stop because of it.” I said. “Fuck no Violet. Look at you, you’re curvy and delicious, you’re so sexy my darling... Do you want your know my favourite part?” She whispered leaning into my ear. “Yes.” I answered. “These, and this.” Larissa’s fingers danced over the stretch marks of my breasts and stomach. Internally my insides were fluttering and heat pulled at the apex of my core.

“Can I take this off?” She asked referring to my bra. I let her remove it, as a little gasp left her lips I once again took the opportunity to kiss her again. I couldn’t stop myself from bucking my hips into hers looking for friction to grind down on. Larissa clamped her hand on my hips and roughly guided me back and forth across her thighs whilst simultaneously diving into my chest with her mouth, she latched her lips around my left bud and sucked hard causing me to arch into her more and throw my head back in pleasure. She didn’t forget to give the other attention either.

I got off her lap and asked her to lay down, as she did so I ripped off her dress that was still wrapped around her waist and unceremoniously tossed it aside. Larissa’s stomach was pale and soft much like her breasts all I want to do is mark and bite it, I sat between her parted legs and hooked my fingers in the waistband of her panties and rushed to get them off her long legs, I couldn’t slow down even if I wanted to, she’s like a drug or aphrodisiac that runs freely within my veins. Her pussy now on full display and her body at my mercy, I looked down at her, my own lust exuding and at that moment we both knew this wasn’t going to be sweet or timid, it wasn’t going to be gentle. It was going to be rough and urgent. It was going to be sinful and nether of us could stop it. I’ve depraved myself for far too long long and I can’t push her away.

Making myself comfortable on my knees and bending to level with her heat, I gave her one last look before latching onto her clit. The moan she let out was almost pornographic and only made my own pussy contract around nothing and leave me with ruined underwear. Larissa fisted the sheets beside her with one hand and with the other she gripped my hair pushing my face into her impossibly harder, she ground down on my face searching for more. I gazed through my lashes to view her blissed out face and kiss swollen lips, like I said, it’s not possible for her to ever be unattractive.

She made eye contact with me and slightly controlled her face more to clearly see through her hazy eyes. I brought my hand up to her entrance and carried on with my assault on her clit, sitting up a little I made sure she could see what I’m doing, I held up a finger, then another, then another, clearly signalling three. With those three fingers I wiped up her folds before entering every single one at the same time, she hissed and her eyes rolled towards the back of her head, the sight of her was just as pleasurable as what I’m giving her. “Fuck… oh fuck yes.” She moaned.

After her third orgasm she pushed me away from her overstretched and over simulated core, crawling back up her body I left red and purple marks on her otherwise untouched stomach and sternum. Larissa yanked me up to her face and kissed me again using her tongue to taste herself. “Your turn.” She growled flipping me over onto my back, Larissa undid the drawstring of my pants and shimmied them of my legs along with my underwear, I hadn’t even realised I used my hands to cover my stomach again, not until she lifted them of and kissed my palms and placed them on her shoulders. Larissa sat on my lap and used her nails to graze over my arms and sides, this was only the beginning, she tormented and teased for a long time before she couldn’t refuse the inevitable.

Panting out of control and sweating to high heaven, we lay side by side completely naked and exhausted. Larissa stood from the bed and walked into my ensuite with her hips swaying, I sat up wondering why she left. She’s probably touching up her make up and getting ready to leave. I thought, a melancholy feeling filled me and I reached for my t-shirt and slipped it back over my head. Hopping off the bed as well I pick up the strewn clothes and place them nicely on the end of the bed. I smiled at the thought of what just happened, Larissa was so beautiful with her smudged lipstick and mascara, the tremble in her limbs when she came, the way she looked at me when I came undone, even the little bits of hair that came loose to frame her face. Larissa was more than this though, she deserved more, something more domestic, more beautiful than a passionate fuck I suppose. Larissa deserves home cooked meals and hand holding in the street, she’s worth the efforts that a romantic relationship includes, like bathing together and eating together or having someone she loves’ chest to lay on. I think the worst part is that I know I’m not that person.

Larissa walked out of the bathroom with a wet cloth and looked at me quizzically. “What are you doing?” She asked. I stood back from the bed and cracked my knuckles nervously, avoiding the art work I stained her body with. “I thought you wanted to leave… I was just picking up your clothes so they didn’t get to creased.” I said looking to the ground. Larissa paced towards me grasping my arm and pushing me to lay back down. I followed her silent instruction but was confused as to why she started to lift my shirt again. “What are you doing?” I whispered. “Cleaning you up.” She answered. It felt like the air was knocked out of my lungs at her statement. Tears threatened to spill from the corners of my eyes, Larissa spread my knees and started to gently wipe away the accumulated arousal.

She sat folding the material continuously and cleaned me until she was satisfied. Her eyes moved to looked at mine and her self satisfactory smile faded once she saw my burning cheeks and wet eyes. “Oh what’s the matter?” She asked tossing the rag to the door way of the ensuite and cupping my face. “No-.” I stuttered. “No one’s…” Larissa’s brows raised trying to understand. “Nobody’s ever done that for me before.” I said chocking on my uneven breath. “Oh darling.” She said dragging my body up to hers embracing me tightly.

Larissa looked at me like I was the most fragile thing in the universe, I hated it, I wish I wasn’t like this. A while later we decided on a movie and snuggled under the covers, she stroked at my hair and giggled at the screen from time to time, I didn’t give a fuck about the tv, to be in this moment with her was so for filling and wholesome. I pondered for a second before letting myself ask the question. “Larissa?” I started. “Mmm?” She hummed looking down at me. “I was wondering if you would like to come away with me after Christmas?” I said hoping she would but trying to come to terms with the possibility she’d say no. “Yes.” She said with a grin. Oh. “I have to go to my parents houses, dads for the first week then mums for a week… if you’re not comfortable with that-.” She nodded enthusiastically and said. “Yes I will, what day do we leave?” I looked at her wondering why she seems so excited but continued anyway. “The 27th, my sister’s are gonna be there and my nieces, which is nice I haven’t seen them for a long time.” I said. Larissa agreed and was looking forward to it, and of course she started to make a mental list of what to pack.

For the rest of the afternoon we stayed in bed and went through countless amounts of movies and whatever snacks I had in my pantry. She sat in my clothes, in my bed, in my room, in my home, Larissa to me felt like she belonged there, like this is exactly where she’s supposed to be, because to be honest I’m really being to think she is my home, Larissa weems owns it all though, all the materialistic things I own from the things in my house to the clothes I wear on my back as well as my heart and soul and if she wanted me to I’d kill myself if she asked. I love her more than anything. perhaps it is more personal than it is professional, but that’s the tragic part isn’t it?

@lex13cm @im-a-carnivorous-plant @barbarasstar

@giogwensversion @sabraaabra

@readingtheentrails @readingtheentrails

[dancingtotuyo]

Scathed 8 (Javier Peña)

Rating: Mature

Warnings: anxiety, trauma, self worth, smoking, idiot(s) in love?, curly hair care (all you curly girls with straigh hair mothers know the painnnnnnn,)

Notes: shoutout @janaispunk for beta reading and letting me yell and for being sad for these characters

Words: 3809

Series Master List | Author Master List

Journal Entry July 16, 1994

This summer has been good, surprisingly so. I went to the fair this year. Usually, the kids just go with Dad and Anna. We’ve done movies, and events downtown, and busy Saturday mornings at the hardware store. It doesn’t mean I haven’t puked afterward, but having Javier around has been nice.

Oh, and I registered for classes at the community college. I start at the end of August.

Emily sat on her bed, flipping through the photographs taken over the summer. Most of them were ones she’d taken, but every once in a while, one of the kids got a hold of it. They held evidence of the summer she’d been able to give her kids, and Javier was in almost all of them.

As she flipped through the final few of the stack, the last photo stood out. Her birthday, the one Ale had blinded her with. It turned out nicely. Her smiling at Javier, him smiling at her over the flaming candles, caught before they could react to the flash. She couldn’t pull her eyes away from it. A singular, perfect, magical moment caught on film.

She dropped the rest of them in the shoe box for safekeeping until she was ready to put the photo book together. The birthday one she slipped between the frame of her vanity mirror. She wanted a reminder of that day

“Mommm!” Miguelito called, opening her door.

Emily jumped, hand landing over her heart as she turned toward him. “How many times have I told you to knock?”

“Sorry.” He grinned. “Mateo isn’t getting ready like you said, and he’s making a mess in our room.”

She glanced over her oldest’s appearance, folding her hands over her chest. “And you’re completely ready, could hop in the car right now, I suppose?”

“I still have to brush my hair and teeth.”

“Then I suggest you go do that.”

Miguelito folded his lips in, looking to the side before he spun on his heels and walked away. Emily laughed to herself before making her way to the boys’ room to check in on her youngest. Sure enough, he sat next to the toy chest, playing contently with his new Playmobil set.

“Mateo,” she said, voice soft.

The boy’s head snapped up to her, a sheepish grin appearing.

“Are you ready to go?”

“No,” He shook his head, somehow still managing to look innocent.

“I put your clothes out on your bed an hour ago.”

“I’ll get dressed now.”

“Thank you.” She nodded, holding out her hand. “I’m going to hold onto your Playmobil until you’re ready to go, okay? So you don’t get distracted.”

Mateo looked between his new toy and his mother, not wanting to part with it. Emily waited with patience as he made his decision. “Once you’re ready, you can have it back.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.” Emily smiled. With the added assurance, he handed the toy to his mother and rushed over to his clothes. “Don’t forget your hair and teeth.”

“I won’t!”

Emily smiled, leaving the room as a shirt went flying. Alejandra found her seconds later, brush and hairties in hand. “Can I have two braids today?”

Emily glanced down at her watch. They were already running behind. What was a few extra minutes at this point? “Go sit at the table.”

Alejandra had a big stubborn knot at the back of her head. That was what Emily got for not brushing it out before bed last night and the night before. The detangler bottle was all but empty. Alejandra had more hair than her mother and that was saying something. Emily let out a long sigh as she soaked the knot with watered-down detangler. “You’ve got rats nest back here, Mija. I’ll do my best, but it’s probably gonna hurt.”

Alejandra only nodded. The mother and daughter duo were more than familiar with the process, both individually and together. Emily had her own memories of sitting at the kitchen table as her mother brushed through massive knots, leaving her hair massive and frizzy. There had been plenty of tears in her younger years before her scalp toughened, Her mother hadn’t known how to handle the texture or the amount of hair she had. Looking back at pictures, Emily knew exactly when she began caring for her own hair as a preteen.

It was Emily’s goal to make this time as painless as possible for her daughter. It didn’t mean there weren’t ever tears. Ale’s scalp had started out tender, but Emily was sure to be as delicate as possible, using as much detangler and conditioner as needed, being gentle with the combs, teasing the curls back to life afterward.

Emily didn’t yell or fuss when her daughter tried to get away from the pain. The mother did her best to distract from the pain with jokes or stories. Overall, she shaped the hours of hair care into quality time, something she’d always wanted her mother to do with it.

“Mami?”

“Yes, baby?” The comb caught on an extra ratty tangle. Alejandra hissed. “Sorry.”

She reached back, rubbing her scalp gently before allowing her mother to continue. “I think we need to do that conditioner treatment thing again.”

“I think you’re right.” Emily kissed her head. “I’ll put it on the list. It helped a lot.”

Ale nodded. “Do you think Mr. Javi is going to think we ditched him? We were supposed to be there already.”

“I think he’s very used to us being late.” Emily laughed, freeing the last of the tangle with a deep sigh. She sprayed the hair again, letting it curl up a little before she began to part it.

“I think we should call him.”

“He’s probably at the park already.”

“I’ll leave a message. Just so he knows I was worried when he gets home.”

Emily rolled her eyes playfully, grabbing the phone off the wall behind her. The extra long cord lay flat on the floor between the wall and table. She handed it to Alejandra. “You know the number?”

The girl gave a firm single nod as she quickly dialed the number having memorized it at the beginning of the summer. She kicked her legs back and forth, bare feet brushing the legs of her chair under the table. Emily tied half of the curls to the side. “Look up at the ceiling, Ale.”

She obeyed, pressing the phone to her ear. Emily could hear it ringing as she focused on pulling all of the baby hairs around Ale’s hairline into the tight French braid. “Boys! Time to put on your socks and shoes!”

“Hello?” Javier’s static voice came through the phone.

Ale’s eyes lit up as she sat up a little straighter. “Mr. Javi! You’re supposed to be at the park already!”

He chuckled. “So are you, Alejandrina.”

“Yeah, but we always run late. You don’t.”

Emily shook her head, trying to hold in her laughter as she efficiently twisted Ale’s hair into the braid with minimal flyaways. Nothing like being called out by your own kid.

“I was just about to leave my house. What are you doing right now?”

“Mami is braiding my hair. I had a big tangle, otherwise, we would’ve been almost on time.”

“Well, that means I need to get going if I want to beat you there.”

Emily tied off the first French braid.

“Drive fast 'cause she just finished my first braid.” Alejandra tilts her head back again so Emily can start the second.

“Do your brothers have their shoes on?”

“Nope, still in their room.”

“Boys!” Emily called again. Javier’s chuckle came through a little louder. A faint Coming echoed from their room.

“He’s laughing at you,” Ale grinned up at her mother.

“Tell him to shut up.”

Ale’s eyes grew wide. “But I’m not allowed to say that. It’s not nice.”

“One-time exception.” Emily winked.

Alejandra bit her lip. Her honey-brown eyes sparkled with brief debate. Was she really being given permission? “Mami says to shut up.” She said it quickly like the permission might expire.

Javier kept laughing, it coming from deep within his chest this time. Emily let out a groan as she scrapped the braid and started over. The second one never cooperated like the first.

“I’ll see you soon,” Javier said.

“See you soon,” Alejandra replied and the line went dead. She handed the phone back to Emily who placed it back in the cradle. “We gotta go fast so we can beat him.” She wiggled excitedly in the chair.

The braid slipped through Emily’s fingers again and she let out a frustrated groan. “I’m trying, Mija. Boys!”

Finally, two pairs of footsteps echoed down the hallway. Mateo grabbed his toy off the table with a proud grin. “Tennis shoes with the laces, Mateo.” She reminded him.

Mateo groaned, dropping his velcro shoes where he stood. He was about to start kindergarten in the fall and she was desperate to get him ahead on the shoelace tying assignment. She’d learned her lesson from Alejandra’s kindergarten year. She’d essentially homeschooled Miguelito through Kindergarten in Mexico and managed to skip that assignment.

“I’ll help you,” Miguelito said.

Despite having to start Alejandra’s braid over for a fourth time, Emily found herself smiling as she listened to Miguelito’s patient and encouraging exchange with his younger brother over the tying of laces.

The flyaways weren’t as wrangled in the second braid, but finally, Emily tied it off. The Texas heat and sweat would pull them out soon enough. “Alright, shoes my dear.” She kissed Alejandra’s head

She popped out of the chair, pulling her shoes on as quick as possible. Matoe kicked his feet back and forth on the couch wearing a huge grin. “Done!”

“He did the second one all by himself!” Miguelito exclaimed, looking proud.

“That’s amazing,” Emily smiled brightly, smushing Mateo’s cheek with a kiss. “I’m very proud of you.”

“Thank you, Mommy.”

“Okay! Let’s go!” Alejandra said, panting as if she’d used all her energy to pull on her shoes. “We have to beat Mr. Javi!”

The family of four bustled out of the house, with only one person having to run back in for a forgotten item. Alejandra was certain they would beat Javier to the park until they pulled in next to his faded red pickup. He leaned against it, arms crossed, sunglasses on the tip of his nose, and shirt half unbuttoned as usual.

Alejandra sighed exasperatedly with a loud huff. Javier smiled, waving to her through the window as she glared at him. “He definitely speeded.”

“Sped,” Miguelito corrected.

Javier stuck his tongue out at Alejandra from the other side of the glass. She mimicked him. Emily bit back a laugh.

They set up their picnic under the shade of a large oak tree set off the playground. The park was relatively quiet for a Saturday with only one other family nearby, but they knew it likely would be. That’s why they picked it. Set outside the city limits, it was a longer drive for the Kuykendall crew, but closer to Javier.

After lunch, Emily and Javier were pulled into a game of Blind Man’s Bluff which ended when a blinded Javier knocked his head against the monkey bars. Luckily for the adults, the children from the other family asked to join.

“How’s your head?” Emily laughed, falling to the picnic blanket, laughter still lacing her voice.

Javier rubbed it, easing down with a soft groan. He wasn’t sure if he was going to be able to get off the ground between his aging bones and the hot summer day. “Been better but I’ll live.” He eased onto his back, letting the faint breeze ease over him.

Emily grabbed a water bottle from the cooler. handing it back to him. Cool droplets splashed over his chest and head. Javier placed it against his carotid artery, humming with contentment. “It’s hotter than I realized today.”

Emily nodded, pulling her hair out of the loose ponytail. “Should probably make the kids come cool down before too long.” She dug into the cooler again, searching for her own water bottle.

Javier’s eyes followed the sway of her curls. His hand floated up of its own accord, letting one twist gently around his finger. Emily didn’t even notice. He sighed softly. He needed to tell her. The thought passed as his heat-soaked brain caught up and he let it drop. The feel of her soft hair against his skin stayed.

“They should sleep good tonight.”

“We all should,” Emily sighed, pressing the water bottle to her neck.

“Nightmares been keeping you up?” Javier asked, easing into a sitting position.

“Not as often as they had. You?” She glanced at him, pulling her hair over one shoulder.

Javier bit his lip, arms slung over his knees. A pit formed in his stomach. He knew he had to tell her. He couldn’t put it off any longer, not when he had a date circled on the calendar. “A little more the past week.”

“Something happen?” Javier looked away, a newfound interest in the tree to their left. His brow creased, frown lines appearing around his mouth. Emily felt the air shift. She fought the fight or flight response itching to life inside her. “Javier?”

He swallowed, pulling his attention back to her. “The DEA offered me a position,” he huffed, pulling up some of the grass beside him. “Hell, it’s a promotion really, back in Colombia. They want me to help take down Cali.”

Emily’s heart dropped. She tried to hide the dread that filled her, but he could see it. “When do you leave?”

“Never said I was going.”

“Didn’t have to. You wouldn’t be actin like someone died if you weren’t.”

Javier finally met her eyes through the light tint of his sunglasses. She chewed on her lip, eyes glistening even in the shade. “I’m sorry,” he said. His arm settled across her leg, hand hanging on her calf. Their thighs pressed against each other. Even in the scorching heat, neither minded.

“When do you leave?”

“August 5th”

Emily looked away, eyes tracking each of her children on the playground. They still played happily with the other children, having moved to a regular game of tag. “How long?”

“Contract’s for a year. Could be longer though. Just depends.”

Her gut twisted in a million tiny knots. She had so many questions. Some for him, and some for herself. Would she still be able to do all these things without him?

“You didn’t tell me they’d offered you a position.”

It was a silly thing to say. He didn’t owe her anything, but she felt a little hurt he hadn’t told her he was even considering it. “I didn’t think I would at first, but they kept calling and I-” Javier took a deep breath.

“You realized you had unfinished business.” She met his eyes again.

Javier sucked in a deep breath. “Yeah…”

She nodded, leaning into him slightly so their shoulders touched. He squeezed her calf softly as she wove her arms through his. The breeze picked up a little, providing some relief. Slowly, her body leaned into him more. Emily hesitated only slightly before letting her head drop to his shoulder.

Javier looked at it, almost in disbelief as the faint smell of her shampoo drifted his way. His heart pounded in his chest as his brain ran wild, setting off all the signals like he was a teenager asking his crush to homecoming. He hadn’t felt this way in years.

He wanted to press a kiss to her forehead. He wanted to do more than that, but the better-behaved part of his brain warned against it. One day, maybe he could kiss her head like well-meaning friends do, but not now. He wasn’t in the position to be a well-meaning friend today, and she had still hesitated to fully relax into him. Instead, he settled on resting his head against hers.

She kept her eyes focused on the kids. He kept his on her.

“Don’t forget about us, Okay?” She said.

Javier nudged against her softly, a soft smile ghosting over his lips. “Never. Couldn’t break Alejandra’s heart like that.”

She laughed and his heart lifted. “She’s grown quite fond of Mr. Javi.” She nudged him back, looking his way again. The whole world melted away when she looked at him like that.

Javier chuckled. He tucked a runaway curl behind Emily’s ear, careful not to linger. “Hope she’s not the only one.”

“I mean I think the boys will miss you too, but they don’t seem to have the same… affinity for you,” Emily winked at him. “that Ale does.”

“And my best friend?” Javier said. It was the first time the words felt painful to say like they didn’t cover the full scope of what Emily was to him.

“Will miss you greatly.” She squeezed his arm. “Not sure how I’m gonna function without you really.” She said it with an air of humor, but they both knew there was a real question buried under it.

He searched her eyes, racking his brain for something to say, but nothing came.

The kids came running back, Alejandra running through their bubble first followed by Miguelito, and then Mateo lagging behind on his shorter legs.

“Everyone needs to sit and drink some water,” Emily instructed.

Javier thought she might pull away, switch instantly into mom mode as he’d seen her do so many times, but she stayed against him as the kids followed her instructions with heavy panting.

Javier smiled taking in the scene. It made him wonder if he was doing the right thing. He had doubts about going back to Colombia, but the pull to finish it once and for all had outweighed them all. This right here, balanced the scales, tipping them in the other direction even.

Without warning, Alejandra gasped looking directly at the adults. “Don’t move.”

She dug around in Emily’s bag, pulling out the Polaroid camera Emily toted everywhere. Ale had as big of an affinity for taking pictures as her mother.

“Ale, I’m all sweaty,” Emily said as her daughter held it up.

“No mami, you look beautiful,” She chastised. “Now smile.”

“Do as the lady says.” Javier chuckled, shifting so his arm was behind Emily’s back as he let a genuine smile overtake his face. Emily’s hand fell to his knee. She sighed, but obeyed, smiling at the camera.

Ale shifted around, making sure to get the correct angle until finally the camera flashed. She announced it was “perfect” before the photo had fully spit out of the camera and placed it carefully in the case Emily kept for developing photos.

Javier chuckled next to her as he slowly pulled away from her. Even in the sweltering Texas heat, Emily missed him next to her.

Emily lay in bed that night, sheets kicked to her feet. She couldn’t get it out of her mind. Javier was leaving. Leaving Texas, leaving her, and he didn’t know when he was going to be back. What if he didn’t come back? The thought turned her blood to ice, sparking the flame of anxiety. She shot up, sweat gathering across her skin as she struggled to catch her breath. She couldn’t go there, couldn’t let the thoughts consume her, but they already had. Try as she might, none of her usual tools worked to combat it as images of Javier lying in the street with a bullet hole filled her brain.

Finally, she pulled herself out of bed on shaky feet. She grabbed a stray pack of cigarettes and a lighter off the table on her way to the backyard, barely keeping it together long enough to flick the lighter to life and inhale the smoke. Her shaking steadied with the first hit of nicotine. The rhythm of it gave her mind a distraction, pressing the butt to her lips, the orange glow at the tip, smoke filling her lungs and then releasing into the air. She hadn’t smoked in months, deciding to stop when Javier did, but tonight none of that mattered. He was leaving her.

The door opened behind her. She spun around to find her father, looking disheveled in his boxers and opened robe with his hair sticking up. He lifted an eyebrow. He returned the gesture, holding out his hand for the pack of cigarettes. She handed it over with the lighter.

Jaime methodically pulled one out, flicking the lighter with more ease and steady hand than Emily had moments before. The father and daughter stood next to each other, their silhouettes copies of the other in the moonlight.

“Haven’t caught you out here in a while.”

“Was I loud?”

“Rattled the whole house when you slammed the door.”

Emily cringed, taking another drag from the cigarette. “Sorry.”

“What’s wrong?”

She waited a second, flicking the ash. “I’m guessing you already know.”

Jaime sighed. “I knew he was offered it. Just found out he accepted last evenin.” Emily bristled slightly. “It’s just a year, Sweetheart.”

“No, the contract is for a year.”

Jaime turned toward his daughter. She looked like the Emily he’d known before the spring, the one who was scared and jumpy all the time, not the blooming flower he’d come to know in the past few months. The difference was night and day. He didn’t want to see her go back to that place.

“Em…”

“What if he doesn’t make it back?” Emily interrupted him, letting the internal thoughts become external. “What if he gets shot or worse, and I never see him again?”

He reached out, putting an arm around his daughter. He kissed her head, rubbing soothing circles against her back. Tears gathered in Emily’s eyes.

“He’s good at what he does.”

“Even the best agents get killed.”

Jaime nodded. He’d know some of those. He kept his mouth shut and let Emily talk. That was what she needed anyway. She talked through all of it until she started leaning into him more, words slurring with sleep until she all but fell asleep standing against him.

He smiled, guiding his grown, sleepwalking daughter through the house. He tucked her into bed, all the nights he missed when she was little flickering through his mind. It was these nights when it hit the most. The what ifs. What if he’d pursued more legal action against her mother? What if he hadn’t let the DEA whisk him off to Guadalajara without a custody agreement? The guilt of it all never left him.

He pushed the hair out of her face, setting one last kiss on her forehead. As he closed the door behind him, he heard her soft, slurred words. “Goodnight, Dad.”

He smiled to himself. “Goodnight, Sweetheart.”

[riddles-n-games]

Exposed

Pairing: N/A Summary: Grayson gets to enjoy a late start for once with his best girl, Tiramisu. Unfortunately, someone decides to spoil that dreamless sleep and expose his closely guarded secret. Puppy cuddles are therapeutic for the soul. Sue him. Length: Moderate Story Type: One Shot

A/N: Hey guys, sorry this is a bit late but this is my dedication to Grayson's birthday appreciation. Originally this was supposed to be a bonus fic after I released my second horse fic but as you can see that hasn't happened so I thought why not just get it done for his bday? (Ok, I know it's past his birthday but ignore that.)

    Disaster struck, tragedy ensued. He was discovered, his secret exposed. The world would know his wrath but world domination would have to wait a bit because at the moment, there was still a snuggly bundle curled up next to him asleep in his arms. He smiled down at her. 

    Tiramisu Panini Hawthorne. The Hawthorne puppy was not so small anymore as she was five months old now but she was just as wriggly, happy, and fluffier than ever. And also a backstabber by choosing him as her favorite Hawthorne which must have been the reason for the flash breakin that woke him. He heard sniggering and hushed voices down the hall which meant two suspects; Xander and Jameson. On an infamous night when a certain incident occurred perhaps involving the tightest pair of leather pants in existence, videos and photos were taken and posted that unfortunately went viral.

    While he managed to deep clean the Internet in only the way Grayson Hawthorne could, the original menac-posters still had the content saved to their devices, several of them. He feared how much new blackmail material they got away with this time. He would scour every corner, surface and dark web, deep cleaning the Internet of all footage just like the first time. He’d get his revenge, he just had to bide his time.     

Grayson would not be dubbed Mr. Cuddles and yes, he would decline the puppy interview to keep his sanity, no matter how many hearts were broken or the adorableness of the pups. He would not yield. This was a call to war; a total and absolute declaration. In such a case, Hawthornes loved getting down in the dirt and Grayson didn’t mind getting his hands dirty to get things squared. Playing dirty meant gloves off; that was the Hawthorne way. So maybe his homicidal mother was right about something after all.

    But till then he’d relax in his bed and enjoy a late morning for once, though the photographer in him was now itching for a photo. The rays of sunlight coming in through the blinds, the way it lit up the carpet and the left side of his bed, the adorable puppy snoozing happily under his comforter- Ah yes, her. She would be his subject but he was too comfortable to get up and he didn’t want to disturb her. Besides, growing puppies still need plenty of sleep.  “Just don’t grow up too quickly,” he whispered. The photoshoot could happen later.

    Suddenly, Tiramisu shifted in his arms and started pawing at his chest, whimpering as the swiping got faster. Nightmare?  Note to self, look into dog dreaming. “Shh, girl. You’re alright.”

   Grayson moved away to avoid getting scratched and quickly turned her over so that her legs were away from him, hugging her tight and readjusting the blanket over them. When he got resettled, he brought a hand to her ear and rubbed gentle circles into the fur with his thumb. He loved her ears; they were super soft, curly, fluffy, and floppy. Oh how time went by; it was funny, he mused, how attached to the puppy he became after a few short months. Who knew that all it took was a puppy to single-handedly turn Grayson Hawthorne into a pile of mush? 

    Yes, so he was wrapped around her cute little paw. He’d hurt anyone who dared make a move. But it’d taken being at his lowest to get where he was now. 

    After Atonement Night, he often found her wandering his wing or lying down at the foot of his door, waiting to be let in. Her tail would instantly start wagging when he approached and those forlorn puppy eyes would stare deep into his soul, so hopeful that he’d let her in and how could he say no to that face? 

     He’d sigh a little dramatically and just before he unlocked the door, she’d get up, waiting expectantly as he scanned the hall for uninvited visitors and extra cameras. When he opened the door, he would pause so she could go in first and prance right past him, heading for his closet. It confused him as to what the pup found so interesting there as he would set down his stuff on and around the desk before heading for the ensuite. Most times he’d leave her be as there were spare clothes in the bathroom but one time he forgot so when he entered the closet, he found her wrapped in old shirts and socks with one of his slippers in her possession. He wasn’t sure what to make of it but she looked too cute and innocent with those big eyes that he just had to take a picture. 

    Some weeks passed and the pattern continued; every time he checked on her, she had his slipper and rested on a particular shirt that he discovered was from his HCD days. She also started staying late into the night in his room, sleeping at the foot of his bed right next to his slippers; another photo op. Eventually that too changed as when he woke early to swim, a chocolate brown lump would greet him at the edge of his bed which often got him smiling to himself. He would do his best to slip out of bed without disturbing her and before he left, scratched behind her ears and placed a fluffy blanket on top of her. 

    It didn’t take long for him to jump the gun and when he finally caught her sneaking onto the bed one night, he called to her and patted the spot next to him. Tiramisu had all too eagerly bounded toward him, all happy tail wags and pants before she laid her head on his side and settled down. 

    When she fell asleep, Grayson stayed awake, stroking her fur and staring at the ceiling, deep in thought. For the first time he’d realized that something about him was changing; he’d been careless. No, not in a bad way but he hadn’t been paying much attention to his actions for once, at least, in regards to the puppy. Though he remained his usual controlled self wherever he was in the House and in his wing with Tiramisu in tow, he hadn’t bothered acting removed or unaffected by her happy presence. He could just be. Sure, he wasn’t around her much those first few weeks but he hadn’t been cold or distanced when they were alone. It was just that the little happy accidents had finally gotten the ball rolling and pushed them together to start bonding properly. He never relaxed that quickly around anybody so it was a shock to him how quickly he adapted to being laid back and receptive to her in his privacy, his safe space. She made him happier, more smiley (that was still something he didn’t want to easily admit); that was when he knew Xander had been right. No wall was too high or too strong for her to knock down with just a blink of her big eyes. But Xan would never get to know that unless he ran out of secrets to share during Chutes and Ladders which he doubted would ever happen. But most important of all, she made him feel carefree. 

    For so long, he had to keep his guard up and be perfect; that was his curse as heir apparent. Former heir apparent. Eve and Emily, they’d been awful lapses in judgment but dwelling on the past did nothing to wash away the sins. And he’d been learning to let that go, slowly. Spending time with the puppy in his room helped that progress and relieved the ache of responsibility off his shoulders. With Tiramisu, he finally felt that long needed peace and it was nice that she had no expectations of that sort. All she needed was food, water, sleep, and play while all she wanted was a bit of attention, snuggles, walks, and love. Grayson knew he could give that much because what was a dog’s duty as man’s best friend in comparison? 

    They were expected to be loyal, trusting, fearless, protective, playful, and loving. They had to give all of themselves to their purpose and one could beat them, hurt them, scare them into submission, break them completely and a dog would still give and give and give in hopes that they would be enough for their owner’s expectations. That they would be worthy of just a bit of affection that their owner could spare no matter what they went through because it was in their nature. And hadn’t that been him his entire life thus far?

    He’d given and given more every time as he bent over backwards trying to please his grandfather and the world as the heir, as the second eldest, as the one with the brightest future of all his brothers. He dedicated himself wholly; heart, body, mind, and soul to perfecting each talent, every skill, every part of his being to be the perfect well-oiled machine of control. And it was all for naught. But that hadn’t been Avery’s fault. It was just that begged the question, What now? What to do with his life after all he’d been promised and told to do so he could become the rightful successor worthy of his grandfather’s place was ripped right from under him? He didn’t know. The foundation wasn’t going to need him forever and he dropped Harvard so what next? 

    The chocolate Labradoodle obscured that and he’d been immensely thankful for it. She reminded him that there was a time and a place and maybe where he needed to be was just in the right now. He could do that and he would have her to keep that new motto going. Having a new pet in Hawthorne House in general had been good; it gave him and his brothers a change of pace. He looked into the science of pet therapy and the specifics of having a dog as said therapeutic animal. It had to be done from a secret laptop to ensure Xan wouldn’t snoop; he already had too many hacked gadgets, even an old camera! At first, it had been mild interest but the more papers he read and explanations from credited sources, he became more and more invested. It was very a Hawthorne thing for him to do. But in the end, it did serve a purpose as he shifted from needing everything to be perfect.

    When he went home after working into the night at the office and he was too tired to properly function, he gladly scooped up the puppy and leaned his head against her neck as he fell asleep. He didn’t care that he shouldn’t need a cuddle buddy. He started keeping a bag of her favorite treats in a desk drawer and got a dog bed complete with a little pillow and the old swim athletics shirt. Grayson had realized his scent was still on the shirt since he hadn’t washed that one in a long time and she liked his smell so he let her have it. There was also a little basket with some toys wrapped in an old pillowcase but her favorite thing was still his slipper which he amended by getting a new pair so the other single slipper would be hers as well if she wanted. He even came up with a special secret nickname for her that he’d use when no one was around and used it indulgently; Misu. Funny enough, he found out that it was also a real thing, a Korean beverage made of grain powder.

    On sleepless nights, he would start telling her about his day which eventually led to him admitting his fears out loud and whispering his worst secrets in the dark. At first, he tried to refrain but when he forced him to say it, he felt better. It didn’t have to be this way anymore. He could have something better, something he wanted. And anyways, it wasn’t like Tiramisu was going to say anything but knowing that he could confess without fear of judgment or anyone knowing yet before he was ready to share, he felt relief. So much so that sometimes he could feel the sting of tears prickling at the corners of his eyes but he’d swiped them away before they could become fully formed. He wasn’t there yet in his emotional acceptance. Long story short, since then, she’d become his closest confidante and as of the moment, favorite family member. 

    At some point in his mindless reminiscing, somebody had woken up. Grayson had been stroking her fur, letting his hand glide through the curls and when he once again reached the top of her head, he felt eyes on him. He turned his head and saw Tiramisu looking at him in that innocent way that dogs did when they were expecting something. He smiled. “Hi girl, did you sleep well?” 

    She butted her head against his palm gently as he stroked the side of her snout. Then, she got up and shook herself off before stepping over him and sniffed curiously at his neck and shoulders. He scratched her neck in response. 

    “We had some very rude intruders this morning, Misu. Wanna help me get back at them? You distract and I will set up cameras.”

    She licked his nose. He chuckled.

    “I’ll take that as a yes.”

A/N: Well, hope you enjoyed that. See you in the next one. But before I forget, I'm thinking of starting a tag list. Let me know if you want to be put on it for my next fic. Bye!

Bonus:

These were some earlier tries (don't even ask about the dozens of awful attempts which will stay there to purposefully haunt me) that were among my faves. Unfortunately, different AI generators either couldn't get Grayson to look like a young man WITHOUT a beard (they insisted that be a feature almost every time) or they messed up the chocolate brown of Tiramisu. Not to mention the extra limbs, eugh.

[syddsatyrn]

Chapter 1⛤Chapter 2 ⛤ Chapter 3 ⛤Chapter 4 ⛤ Chapter 5 Masterlist

⛤Pairing: - Eddie Munson x FemReader

⛤Warnings: Swearing, drinking / smoking, drugs, fluff, friends to lovers, kissing, a little angst if you squint.

⛤Words: 2.7k

⛤Song: "Photograph" By Def Leppard

⛤Summary: Moving away from Hawkins was the biggest mistake of your life. You left your best friends and forgot to stay in touch. Years later, you decide to hit up your good friend Steve. Its time to make a plan and make amends. The one thing you didn't expect was feelings to resurface when you saw your old high school crush.

⛤Notes: This series is 18+ Minors scram. I've got a super extra long chapter for you guys today! @hellfiremunsonn is my faithful beta reader and assists me so much. Thank you guys for making my come-back series a fun one. My next chapter will be the end of this series.

⛤Chapter: 4 "Subtle" Chemistry Star court mall is always at least a little crowded. The lively hum of conversations, laughter, and distant music formed a vibrant backdrop. Storefronts beckoned with their displays of trendy fashion, electronics, and enticing sales. Shoppers meandered through the wide walkways, their bags filled with many treasures. Neon signs buzzing, the occasional sounds of a cash register, and the scent of cinnamon drifting through the air. It was just like you remembered it. You had a blast hanging out with Robin. She picked out a brand new pair of ankle length combat boots. You both decided to get ice cream and take a break from walking around. The food court wasn’t super crowded, it was the perfect place to chat. “Can I tell you something? It’s a secret so dont go telling Steve.” “Ohhhh is it secret time?” I won't tell Stevie boy, I promise.” Robin raises her right hand, “Scouts honor.” “Okay. Uhhh…well…I slept in Eddie’s bed last night. He came home from tour in the middle of the night.” Your face turns redder with every word. “Oh shit. Wow Y/N, I didn't think you had it in yah.” She chuckles and puts another spoonful of strawberry ice cream in her mouth. “We didn't do anything!” You affirm your tone a little on the defensive side. “What!? I’m just saying you guys have been madly in love with each other since sophomore year and neither of you have had the audacity to tell each other for some unspoken reason…until now.” She's not wrong, Robin has always been one to spell it out for you loud and clear. She never holds back, it's something you’ve always appreciated about her. Robin has been telling you to come clean for ages now.

“Look, I’m not saying you’re wrong, but I don't want to screw up my friendship with Eddie. Also, he's like a big rockstar now, I doubt he has any time for stuff like that.” You explain as you sink into your chair. "He probably has some cool metalhead girlfriend I don't know about.” You take a bite of your vanilla ice cream. It's so fitting for this conversation, vanilla ice cream for a vanilla person.

“God it's been years and I still can’t wrap my head around your stupid self doubt.” Robin says, shaking her head. “Eddie doesn't have a girlfriend. When you left he moped around his trailer for weeks. No one could get him to come out, not even Dustin. One time I went over to his place to check on him and he was sloshed out of his mind. He told me, "The songs he sings don't mean a thing if you’re not there to hear it.”

“He didn't say that.” You scoff.

“Oh but he did, and he keeps a photo of you in his wallet.” Robin says teasingly.

“You know about that too?!” It's becoming apparent that everyone knows this except you.

“Of course I do. It's me, I know everything.” Robin says with a cocky tone.

You and Robin decide to float around the mall a little longer. A small department store was calling your name. The story had low lighting and they were playing some classic rock on the radio. Robin's goal was a pair of shoes, your goal however, was a hot outfit for tonight's party at the hideout. It honestly didn't take you long to find the cutest black skirt with chain embellishments, you picked out some new stockings too. —-------------- After the girls left Eddie felt like he could finally breathe. He finishes his coffee and breakfast, then falls backwards onto his bed. He stares at his ceiling as he finds himself lost in the intricate dance of thoughts that revolve around you. Images of you smiling genuine and heartwarming, flashed like snapshots in his imagination. Casual conversations, stolen glances, and the subtle chemistry that lingered in the air when you were near. The anticipation of his next encounter with you and the sweet nervousness that comes with it. The soft glow of the afternoon sun is casting a warm hue across his room. Steve and Dustin went grocery shopping, the apartment was silent. Eddie pulls himself out of his thoughts and shakes them off. He grabs a pre-rolled joint and lights it, Eddie is nervous and he knows it. All these years and he still can't tell you the truth. His life has changed so drastically for the better ever since he signed that record deal. But there was always something missing, something he was holding out for. Of course many girls are interested in him, but he's not interested in many girls. He promised himself after you left that next time he sees you, he is gonna tell you. If he misses this opportunity, he might lose you entirely. He almost completely gave up on you after a year of no contact. But every time he opened his wallet, he saw a glimpse of your face, he couldn't bring himself to get rid of you or the photo. Eddie puffs on his joint, each inhale making him a little less anxious. He tries to think about something else. It will be nice to hang out at the hideout again. That was where he played his very first gigs when the band was just starting out. They barely had any attendees and the band definitely sounded rough. Then Eddie recalls you being there for every single show. Your smiling face in the crowd, cheering him on after every song.  “Uhgg, get it together, man.” He says under his breath. He finishes his joint and decides to get dressed. —--------------- When you returned with Robin, Steve was putting away the last of the groceries. “We’re back!” Robin announces. Dustin is reading on the couch, when you look down the hall, Eddie’s bedroom door is open. “Welcome back, we will head to the bar when I finish this. I also need to get dressed. Eddie is out, said something about dropping off some equipment with Gareth. He’s gonna meet us there.” Steve says. Honestly, you were a little bummed. You were hoping he’d be around when you got back. But you shrug it off and take your stuff to his room. Robin follows you and shuts the door behind her. You both change into something a bit more stylish. You had a cropped Def Leppard shirt that you paired with the new skirt. This outfit would go well with boots and stockings. Robin didn't change anything really, just her shirt and shoes. You put on a couple of layered chain necklaces, a few rings, and a pair of small silver hoop earrings. “I am astonished really.” Robin says with a smile as she looks you up and down. You tilt your head in response and she laughs. “Eddie is gonna have a full on heart attack when he sees you.” Your face feels a little hot and you laugh nervously. “Do you think so?” “Oh yeah. No doubt.” She smirks. “Someones lookin’ to get lucky.” “Shut up!” You place your hand over her mouth. She does the unthinkable licks the palm of your hand. You give her this horrified face followed by both of you hysterically laughing like a couple of hyenas.  ---------------

The sun was setting and the sky grew darker with every passing minute. There is a chill in the air, which makes you shiver when you open the door. Steve drove to the hideout, it wasn’t far, maybe ten minutes away. When Steve pulled into the parking lot, you looked out the window and saw Eddie’s van. He’s already here, and you start to feel a bit anxious. The Hideout had not changed a bit. The neon signs in the window buzzed as you walked inside. Posters, fliers, and rustic decor filled the walls. You hear the low hum of chatter and the clinking of glasses, the place has a warm glow to it. You used to watch Eddie play here all the time. It felt like your heart was swelling, it's that bittersweet feeling again. You turn the corner and see Eddie and Gareth sitting in a booth. Eddie waves and one by one you all walk over and pile into the same booth. You sit across from Eddie, you can see his face getting a little red. “You uh…look really good, Y/N.” Eddie says with a half smile. He reaches over and adjusts one of your chain necklaces. Robin sees this and covers her mouth, trying not to laugh at how embarrassed you are. But you had to pull all that on hold for now. Nancy and Johnathan walk up and greet the group. You practically climb over Robin and wrap Nancy in a tight hug. “Oh! Y/N? You’re here?! When did you get into town?!” She hugs you back just as hard. “The other day! It's so good to see you, Nance.” Nancy smiles and fights back tears, she didn't expect any kind of reunion. The thing is, You both grew up together. Your mom was friends with Mrs. Wheeler. You spent a lot of your childhood with Nancy and her brother Mike. When you left, Nancy thought she lost you to the city for good.  “Don’t cry! I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.” “They are happy tears, it’s fine. I’m just so happy to see you.” Everyone in the group is touched to see two best friends reunite. Robin looks like she might start crying too. You give Jonathan a hug as well, It's nice to see him doing well. He wasn't always full of smiles and you’ve wondered how he's been over the years. You remember Jonathan used to take photos of the gang, half of the polaroids you have were probably taken by him. A bartender comes by and takes our order. Eddie ordered whiskey and so did you. Vodka soda for Nancy and Robin, Steve and Jonathan order beers. The clinking of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter, and the subtle hum of the other patrons deep in conversation created a soundtrack to this shared experience. You updated your friends on your new life, and once again apologized for being an awful friend. Everyone was so happy to see you that it didn't matter anymore.  “You better not leave and go back to ignoring us.” Robin says. --------------------

The sun was setting and the sky grew darker with every passing minute. There is a chill in the air, which makes you shiver when you open the door. Steve drove to the hideout, it wasn’t far, maybe ten minutes away. When Steve pulled into the parking lot, you looked out the window and saw Eddie’s van. He’s already here, and you start to feel a bit anxious. The Hideout had not changed a bit. The neon signs in the window buzzed as you walked inside. Posters, fliers, and rustic decor filled the walls. You hear the low hum of chatter and the clinking of glasses, the place has a warm glow to it. You used to watch Eddie play here all the time. It felt like your heart was swelling, it's that bittersweet feeling again. You turn the corner and see Eddie and Gareth sitting in a booth. Eddie waves and one by one you all walk over and pile into the same booth. You sit across from Eddie, you can see his face getting a little red. “You uh…look really good, Y/N.” Eddie says with a half smile. He reaches over and adjusts one of your chain necklaces. Robin sees this and covers her mouth, trying not to laugh at how embarrassed you are. But you had to pull all that on hold for now. Nancy and Johnathan walk up and greet the group. You practically climb over Robin and wrap Nancy in a tight hug. “Oh! Y/N? You’re here?! When did you get into town?!” She asks and hugs you back just as hard. “The other day! It's so good to see you, Nance.” Nancy smiles and fights back tears, she didn't expect any kind of reunion. The thing is, You both grew up together. Your mom was friends with Mrs. Wheeler. You spent a lot of your childhood with Nancy and her brother Mike. When you left, Nancy thought she lost you to the city for good.  “Don’t cry! I’m sorry I’ve been gone for so long.” “They are happy tears, it’s fine. I’m just so happy to see you.” Nancy says between sobs. Everyone in the group is touched to see two best friends reunite. Robin looks like she might start crying too. You give Jonathan a hug as well, It's nice to see him doing well. He wasn't always full of smiles and you’ve wondered how he's been over the years. You remember Jonathan used to take photos of the gang, half of the polaroids you have were probably taken by him. A bartender comes by and takes our order. Eddie ordered whiskey and so did you. Vodka soda for Nancy and Robin, Steve and Jonathan order beers. The clinking of glasses, the occasional burst of laughter, and the subtle hum of the other patrons deep in conversation created a soundtrack to this shared experience. You updated your friends on your new life, and once again apologized for being an awful friend. Everyone was so happy to see you that it didn't matter anymore.  “You better not leave and go back to ignoring us.” Robin says.

“I wouldn’t even dream of it.” You reply.Hours slipped away unnoticed as the night unfolded, a mosaic of laughter, camaraderie, and the shared appreciation of the moment. Eddie could help but sneak glances at you, it was hard not to. He’s been trying to keep his cool all night, he had several shots of whiskey to build up some liquid courage. The world outside the café window dimmed as everyone delved into stories and life updates.

Eddie hands you his pack of cigarettes, silently asking if you’d like to go outside with him. You take one and place it between your lips. You and Eddie excuse yourselves from the group and head outside, the cold air sent a shiver up your spine.

“Brr! I forgot how cold it is when the sun goes down. I should have brought a coat.” You offhandedly say as Eddie lights your cigarette for you. Eddie removes his leather jacket, leaving him with a thick black hoodie. He drapes it around your shoulders and you are immediately much more comfortable. Your face gets a little red, he’s always been such a gentleman. You both lean up against Eddie's van. His thoughts are a symphony of emotions, dancing between hope and uncertainty. The evening was filled with a serene ambiance, and even in the quiet moments, you still felt comfort in his presence. “Y/N…” Eddie finally pipes up. “Yeah?” “I think we should talk. Y’know…about where we stand with each other.” Eddie admits. Your eyes widen, this is finally happening. The anxiety sets in and you try to swallow your nerves. Eddie stands in front of you, looking at his feet. “Do you remember, right before you left, that time we got high in my van next to lovers lake?” “Yeah. I do.” You answer quietly. “Do you remember me telling you that no one could ever replace you in my life?” He asks and you nod. You remember it like it was yesterday. It was a sunny day, the light glistening along the top of the water. You and Eddie passed a joint back and forth. You gave him a small wallet sized photo from picture day. “I still have that photo, I keep it in my wallet. You told me to keep it as a reminder, so I don't forget you. The thing is, meeting you was like finding my favorite song in a world full of noise, and I can't stop hitting replay no matter how many times I hear it.” Eddie takes a deep breath. It's like a weight has been lifted off his shoulders. You were stunned, absolutely speechless. In that moment, the unspoken became words, there was no going back now. Eddie moves a few inches closer, pinning you between himself and van. Under the glow from a nearby streetlamp, the air was charged with tension. You met his gaze with a gentle smile. Without another word, Eddie cupped your face in his hands. Time seemed to slow down as Eddie leaned in and pressed his lips against yours. You kiss him back, It spoke volumes with no words at all. Eddie presses his body against yours and you wrap your arms around his neck to bring him closer. You can't stop shaking, your nerves combined with the cold air made it impossible to be completely still. Eddie finally breaks away from you and opens the back doors to his van. “Hop in, you’re freezing to death.” Eddie says, you take his hand as he helps you into the van then he climbs in after you and shuts the door. You take a seat on an upside down milk crate while Eddie starts the car and cranks the heat. You still can't believe what just happened, you’ve only ever dreamed of this moment. Eddie grabs his acoustic guitar and sits on top of a large amp. He took a deep breath, fingers gently caressing the strings of the guitar, and he started to strum. “I feel so stupid for leaving you alone out here.” You say while looking down at your hands. “If anyone deserves an apology it’s you. I just assumed you moved on and didn’t need any reminders.” “Don’t worry your pretty little head, I forgive you.” He chuckles. “Besides, they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, right?” You recognize the tune he's playing, you’ve heard it before. “What song is this?” You ask, it's so familiar. “Photograph by Def Leppard.” He answers with a half smile and you smile back at him, your eyes widen as you recall the lyrics. He played this song for you before, but you ant remember how long ago. 

“Y’know, I still haven't figured out how to sit across from you and not be madly in love with everything you do.” You reply, hearing him play was actually really calming, you’ve missed this side of him. The guitar became an extension of his feelings, his voice carrying a sweetness to it, like warm honey. ♫“I see your face every time I dream

On every page, every magazine

So wild and free,

So far from me

You're all I want, my fantasy

Oh, look what you've done to this rock 'n' roll clown

Oh-oh, look what you've done

Photograph~

I don't want your photograph

I don't need your photograph

All I've got is a photograph

But it's not enough”♫ As the last chord resonated. Eddie sets the guitar against the wall of the van. You spring into his arms, tears stinging the corners of your eyes. You bury your face in his shoulder, you didn't expect to get so emotional. You’re so happy but you still feel so guilty, you question why anyone would leave this feeling behind.

Eddie pulls you into his lap. “Are you crying?! Oh shit, no don’t cry…”Eddie squeezes you a little tighter. “Shhh…it's okay, sweetheart.”

You took a deep breath, “I love you, Eddie.” The words spilled out.  “I love you too. I’ve always loved you.” Eddie says, when you look back at him he smiles and brushes a few strands of hair away from your face. “Do you want to go back to mine?” He asks, it's like he read your mind. You nod in response and Eddie chuckles. “Let's get out of here.”

[phillippadgettwrites]

The First Time, Every Time: Lazarus

Rated X / 2231 words / Posted on AO3 / Tagging @today-in-fic

Scully’s been glued to her couch for hours, lost in the melancholic churn of regret. She can’t help but feel partially responsible for Jack’s death, in some tangential way. Perhaps the vacancy left by her departure was too vast to be adequately filled, even three years later. Perhaps he never really got over her. Just as soon as she has the thought, she dismisses it as terribly self-important. 

The phone rings, and she half expects it to be Jack on the other end of the line, admitting that it was all a prank that went way too far. 

“Hey, it’s me. Just checkin’ on ya.”

Scully smiles and moves the phone to the other ear. 

“I’m okay,” she says with a sigh.

There’s a stretch of silence that begins to make her nervous. 

“Most people wouldn’t be okay after going through what you just did, you know. It’s okay to…not be okay,” Mulder says gently, and Scully cringes and closes her eyes. 

“I know, Mulder,” she tells him with just enough insistence that he’ll drop it. “I really am fine, though.”

“Okay,” he relents. “Message received. What are you up to?”

Scully looks at the open box of photographs strewn across her coffee table and the half empty bottle of wine sitting in the middle of them. 

“Not much,” she says, leaning forward to pick up a candid shot of Jack with a cigarette dangling from his smiling mouth. “Just…thinking, I guess.”

“About Jack?” It’s a rhetorical question, one she responds to with only a hum. “He seemed like a good guy,” Mulder comments, somewhat detachedly. It’s the kind of thing you say about people you didn’t know well after they die. The kind of thing that’s said more for the comfort of the living than the benefit of the dead. 

“He was,” she agrees, equally detached. 

They are both quiet for a beat, but it’s a comfortable silence. 

“I reviewed his case notes,” Mulder says carefully, like he’s unsure whether she’ll find it intrusive. “He had some interesting insights on Dupre and Lula’s relationship.”

“Such as?” Scully asks, curious but guarded. 

“He said that he envied their devotion to each other. That they lived in a world where nothing mattered but their own needs, which he found intoxicating,” Mulder recites without much affect, leaving his opinion on Jack’s musings up to her interpretation. 

Scully thinks back to the desperate, lovesick way Jack carried himself through their relationship, like he could never quite get enough of her. At first it had been exciting and addictive, but soon became overwhelming and burdensome. The more she withdrew, the harder he tried to get back in her good graces, and she finally came to the conclusion that he wanted something from her that she was simply unwilling to give. 

“That sounds like Jack,” she says, tossing the photograph back on top of the haphazard pile. 

“I hope you don’t take offense to this, but I was surprised to learn that you’d been romantically involved with him.”

“Because he was my instructor?” she clarifies. 

“Not necessarily,” he tells her, pausing to consider his words. “I guess I just…wouldn’t have thought he’d be your type.”

This makes Scully smile. 

“Oh? What did you think my type would be?” she asks, somewhat playfully. 

“I don’t know,” Mulder admits. “Somebody less…intense. Obsessive. Single minded.”

Somebody less like you, she thinks to herself. 

“I’m not sure I have a type,” she says, knowing it’s a lie even as it leaves her lips. Her type is older, assertive, and unavailable. Bonus points if they make her work to earn their affection.

“Well,” Mulder says in a markedly more upbeat tone, “my type is canadian bacon and pineapple. You hungry? I was thinking about ordering a pizza.”

“I could eat,” she says, and her stomach growls in agreement. “But you don’t have to drive across town, Mulder; I can feed myself,” she adds, feeling undeserving. 

“I need to return a movie, so I’m going out regardless,” he says, and she can hear in his voice that he’s already up and moving around his apartment. 

“I’m sure the late fees at the adult video store are steep,” she teases, and he humors her with a wry chuckle. 

She tidies her apartment while she waits for him, stashing the photos of Jack and corking the rest of the wine for another night. When she hears his “shave and a haircut” knock at her door, she answers with a “two bits” rap of her knuckles before she opens it and takes a pizza box from his hands. 

“I got a movie,” he says, kicking the door closed behind him. “I know it’s a school night, but I’m feeling reckless.”

“When are you not feeling reckless?” she says mirthfully, gathering plates and napkins. 

The movie is something silly that neither of them pays much attention to. It’s clear that Mulder’s intention in coming over was to lift her spirits, and he hits it hard with little self-deprecating quips that make her feel equally entertained and sad for him. She can’t help but see the similarities between Mulder and Jack, their shared restlessness and obsessive nature. Their stalwart belief that if they could just solve this one case, the world would tip back on its axis. 

At one point she turns away from the TV and catches Mulder looking at her. He does this sometimes, perhaps much more frequently than she’s privy to. He’s quite good at averting his eyes almost immediately, but she still catches the tail end of the pained, longing expression on his face, and it makes something warm blossom in her belly. She can’t help but wonder why she’s so drawn to these broken, chronically unfulfilled men. She can’t help but wonder why they are so drawn to her. 

The movie ends, and he helps her collect their dirty plates and cups and move them to the kitchen sink, offering to take the pizza box to the dumpster on his way out. While prone to thoughtlessness when he’s chasing down a lead, he’s the most considerate man she’s ever known, and she wonders for the first time if he’s like this with everyone, or just with her. 

“Thank you for dinner,” she says, following two paces behind him as he moves toward her front door reluctantly, shuffling from one shoeless foot to the other like he has something else to say. 

“Anytime,” he tells her. 

They stand there awkwardly for a beat, and an uncomfortable smile stretches across Scully’s mouth. 

“What?” she asks, and Mulder laughs and looks at the floor. 

“Sorry, I’m being weird,” he says, running his hand across the back of his neck. “I was just going to say…I just felt like I should tell you, or that you should know…” He lifts his head and meets her eye with a level of intensity she wasn’t prepared for, and her stomach drops a little. “I was really scared when you went MIA,” he says. “Just thinking about the possibility that we wouldn’t find you alive was…” He stops and swallows, pausing before he speaks again. “I’m really glad you’re okay,” he finally says. 

She steps forward and opens her arms to him and he greedily accepts her embrace, scooping her up into a bear hug that nearly lifts her feet off the floor. It feels like this is what he came here for, to ease his own mind and see for himself that she continues to be alive and well. She feels the beat of his heart thrumming against her rib cage, hard and fast, and her own heart follows suit in anticipation. He holds her for much longer than is customary, and when he finally loosens his grip enough for her to pull away a little, she presses her lips to the corner of his mouth without giving it much thought. It just feels like the natural thing to do. 

Mulder stiffens, but doesn’t let go of her. A bolt of shock at her own out of character behavior makes her ears ring, and for a moment she doesn’t move at all. Mulder turns his head slightly, which makes his bottom lip brush across hers, and an involuntary little whimper escapes the back of her throat. 

His mouth tastes like sweet pineapple and acidic tomato sauce, and it’s so abundantly clear that he’s wanted to kiss her since long before tonight. She’s wanted to kiss him too—of course she has—but they can’t. They can’t, but they are, and she’s not sure why she’s doing this but she knows she doesn’t want to stop. His tongue is in her mouth and they’re pawing at each other like horny teenagers, and she doesn’t want to stop more than she doesn’t want to find out what will happen if they don’t stop. 

“Wait,” Mulder says, grabbing her hands to stop her from unbuttoning his fly right here in her foyer. It hits her like a ton of bricks just how stupid this is. How reckless. “What are we…what does this mean?” he asks, his eyes questioning and his cock visibly hard. 

Scully shakes her head softly, dazed and aroused beyond rational thinking. “I don’t know. It doesn’t have to mean anything,” she says, and she means it. She knows he has nothing more to give her, and she knows that she is unwilling to sacrifice a larger slice of her life to him than she already has. 

He stares at her for a beat, debating, and then his mouth is right back on hers. 

When she was with Jack, she felt like she couldn’t breathe. His arms around her waist were an anchor, and his kiss stole the air from her lungs. His love was an obligation. Being with him felt like drowning, and she had to swim for the surface to save herself. 

Mulder is nothing like Jack. She’s never felt as safe in anyone’s arms as she does in his, and when she kisses him her whole body lights up. He’s not asking her to love him, though she thinks she could. He’s not asking anything from her at all, and yet she desperately wants to give herself to him. Give him her mind, her dedication, her body. He treats each of these with equal reverence, and whatever the opposite of objectified is she’s feeling it now as he peels the clothes from her body and lays her down gently on top of her bed.  

He crawls over her, nude and stiff to the point of leaking, and nudges her leg to the side with his knee. He watches her face while he touches her with two gentle fingers, mapping her body by feel, and his undivided attention is the most erotic thing she’s ever experienced. He makes her come embarrassingly quickly, first with his fingers and then his mouth, before she manages to get her hands on him. He tucks his face into the crook of her neck while she strokes him firmly, murmuring little words of pleasure and affirmation that make her feel like a goddess. 

It’s been so long since she’s been with anyone that she doesn’t have a condom, but she trusts him enough to rely on her birth control and his promise to pull out. He pushes into her slowly, kissing her all the while, and the stretch of him makes her gasp with surprise and pleasure. 

“Am I hurting you?” he asks quietly, his hips stilled. 

“No,” she whimpers, wrapping one leg around his hips to pull him closer. “You’re not hurting me, Mulder.”

Somehow it feels like fucking and making love at the same time. His mouth on her neck, his hand clasped with hers, his cock buried deep inside her. Being with him feels like flying, like an endless endorphin rush. She may never be able to get enough.

“Shit, I’m gonna come,” he sputters.

Suddenly his slippery cock is laid out on her belly, streaks of hot white cum shooting up onto her breasts. She wraps him up in her fist, stroking him through the final few throbs until he begins to grow soft in her hand. He looks up and smiles at her, a kind of uncomfortable was that a mistake? smile, and she smiles back at him. 

“I’ll get you a towel,” he says, and she averts her eyes out of habit as he makes a run for the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later they are back at her front door, fully dressed. Scully picks the pizza box up off her dining room table and hands it to him sheepishly, and he drums his fingers against the thin cardboard lid as he tries to think of something to say. 

“I’ll see you at work tomorrow,” she says casually, like they just ate pizza and watched a movie, nothing more. 

Mulder sighs, potentially with relief, and nods. 

“I’ll bring you a coffee,” he offers.

“That’d be great,” she says casually, opening her front door for him. 

They wave at one another awkwardly, and she watches him walk down her hallway and out the building before she closes and locks her door.

Mulder is nothing like Jack, she’s sure of it. And she’s not going to run away this time—she’s going to see where he takes her. Where he takes them both. 

She’s never felt more excited in all her life.

[dotster001]

La Chasseur d'Amour , Chapter One

Summary: Rook x gn!reader. You vanished just as quickly as you appeared. But Rook will find his love.

A/N:I know what you all are thinking. "Dot, don't you have like ten other series You've started and haven't finished yet?" Yes, and shut up 😂

CW:therapy, discussions of trauma (it's not real, but just in case), self gaslighting

Chapters: Two Three Four Five

As you crossed the stage for your NRC Graduation, and received your diploma from a very proud, very tearful, Crowley, you made eye contact with Rook. He was the photographer for the graduation, obviously, because Crowley wasn't going to hire someone he couldn't guilt into pro bono. 

His eyes twinkled with delight as you grinned at him, and he shot a picture. You always looked good in pictures he took. He said it was because you could see his love for you in the photo. And, at this point, you were inclined to believe him. 

Your friends who had been there since the beginning cheered raucously, even Jack, who had been against obnoxious cheering when Ace had suggested it. 

You shot them a smile, and then the floor fell out from under you, and all you saw was black.

5 years later….

"There's these twins," you said, eyes closed, and searching for lost memories.

"What do they look like?" Your therapist asked, taking some notes.

"They're tall, and they have blue hair."

It'd taken two years for you to accept that Twisted Wonderland wasn't real. You had to be thankful to your therapist for her patience. Your parents certainly weren't as patient with you as she was.

"One is serious, and the other is kind of goofy…like he marches to the beat of his own drum."

The hospital had suggested therapy the moment you started talking about magic. They told your parents that the trauma you had gone through, during your kidnapping, had lead to you creating a fictional world to protect yourself in.

"What does the serious one do?"

"I think he eats mushrooms…"

Your therapist had gently waited for you to be willing to give up the illusion on your own. Your parents hadn't, though. The colder the case got, the more they pushed for you to remember any details.

Again, your therapist was patient. Both of you had figured overblots were particularly traumatic moments, so you hadn't touched them yet. For now you were sorting through memories to see if anything coincided with the real world.

"I think the goofy one likes hugs, and shrimp…"

"That's an odd combo. And what do we say about odd combos?"

"Probably important, ha ha."

The problem was, just like with real memories, over the course of five years the memories of Twisted Wonderland had started to fade. It was harder to pick them apart because you couldn't be sure what you properly remembered.

"They both eat octopus."

"The twins?"

"Uh huh."

You had one clear memory. A man with emerald eyes, and blond hair, who often wore a silly hat. Rook. That was his name. Everytime he looked at you, you felt so loved and safe. So many of your "memories" revolved around him.

"Anything else?"

"That's all I have today, I'm sorry."

Which is why you never told your therapist about him. You were, in full honesty, terrified. Because if so many of your "memories" revolved around him, it probably meant that…

"I don't think either of the twins were the ones who took you, but we'll definitely talk about them later. Now open your eyes and slowly bring yourself back to me."

You followed the instructions, squinting in the sudden burst of light, and slowly sat up from the couch you were laying on.

"Good work today," your therapist smiled warmly. "I'll see you next week, Y/N."

You were such a coward. This might all be over if you weren't so terrified of losing him.

….

"This one isn't it," Rook said firmly, staring at a mirror portal.

"How can you be so sure?" Vil asked in exasperation.

"I don't feel Y/N in there," he said before turning back to his table full of viles, making a quick note, and resuming his prior work of mixing different potions.

"Rook, I'm saying this as a friend. It's time to let go."

"You know I can't do that," Rook muttered under his breath.

"Rook!" He grabbed him by the shoulders, forcing him to look at him. "I came to visit you because we're all worried, and you need to hear someone say it. It's time to let go of Y/N."

Rook shoved him away.

"Roi du poison, with all due respect-"

"Rook, when was the last time you ate-"

"I'll eat later-"

"When is later?"

Rook slammed the potion he was working on down on the table.

"You don't understand what it's like!" He shouted. "I can feel them! I just…I just need the bridge to make the final push!" 

He hastily grabbed a pile of books, and stacked them into stairs. He laid a piece of paper at the base of the stairs, drawing a circle.

"This is us."

He placed another piece of paper at the top of the stack.

"That's where Y/N is. The closest portal I've come to is," he placed a paper on the book step right below the top, "here. So I just need to work with that potion. Just a couple more tweaks-"

"How can you possibly even know that!" Vil shouted. "you don't even go through any of them, how do you know it's not where Y/N is?"

"My signature spell-"

"And that's another thing! You're not keeping how much blot you produce in check! You've been at this five years! It's not good for you!"

"I'm so close," Rook muttered, adding an ingredient to his vile.

"Are you? What if you go through the portal and Y/N has moved on?"

Rook threw the potion at the mirror, instantly creating a shimmering pink portal. He stared awestruck.

"That's it."

....

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