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celestialrry · 4 years ago

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stood up

3.5k

hello everyone!!!! I've been awol for literally weeks because i had absolutely NO motivation to write but i finally finished this piece ˊᗜˋ so YAY. ALSOO thank you for following me, liking, and reblogging my pieces (it encourages me somuchsothankyouireallyappreciateit-- and remember reblogging really helps us writers :))) ) here’s a hug for all ur patience and feel free to send me asks or requests i love talking to you guys! ε(♡'-')з

summary: Harry keeps standing Y/N up. (request from @ballerinrry! thank u love)

warnings: cursing, mentions of alcohol and sex, angsty but with a happy ending cause for some reason i can never let them end on a bad note

Y/N was excited.

It had been a while since Harry had asked her to go on a date, it was always the other way around recently. She couldn’t blame him though, Y/N knew just how busy Harry always was, and it wasn’t like he was purposefully not asking her to go do things, he just had a lot on his plate.

That’s what she kept telling herself anyways.

It’s what she told herself when it had been 2 weeks since they had even eaten a meal together, and given the fact that just a few months ago Harry had come back to London for a while, that was rare. So, Y/N asked him to grab lunch on a Saturday while they were lying in bed together, and when he agreed, but failed to show up, leaving Y/N sitting at the cafe, her lips morphed into a frown and her eyes not focusing on the phone in front of her, she told herself he was simply booked up with meetings and studio time and such.

Thats what he told her when he got into bed that night to apologize for accidentally standing her up. She forgave him, of course, and suggested they could just get dinner the next week. He agreed, even walked around to his calander her to show her he was marking the date off in his calendar with a heart, her first initial, and 7:00 PM etched into the little box with red sharpie.

So, the week passed with quick kisses of good mornings and good nights, and while Harry was gone Y/N had on a black dress she had been excited to wear for a while now, with those little mini silver heels and a coat strung over her shoulders as she sat on her couch waiting for Harry to swing by to pick her up. She shot him a text that simply asked “You otw? xx”

He was not.

It took about 30 minutes of waiting on their couch to realize he was standing her up, again. And it took until the next morning for Harry to see her text (his phone had been on do not disturb while he was at the studio and he ended up spending the night at Sarah and Mitch’s after a few beers), and for the guilt to seep through his veins.

He apologized, again. And Y/N forgave him, again.

Only until it got to the point where Y/N no longer remembered the amount of times Harry had stood her up, for being at the studio, or sleeping after a meeting, or simply just not paying attention to his phone, she knew there was a problem.

Harry was fully aware of the problem too. He knew that this was no way to ever treat a partner, and if someone was doing this to him, he’d dump them— well, he’s never been one to end a relationship unless it was necessary, so that’s an exaggeration, but it’s the principle of the thing.

Which is why when he got home one day around 11 PM, gave her a kiss to the forehead after she sat up in their bed to give him a hug, and a soft “Can we talk?” escaped her lips, he knew he had to fix this. So he asked her if they could talk over dinner the next night, he just wanted to sleep but also wanted to fix things with his girl, asking her if she was free of course, before telling her he’s gonna make a reservation at that nice restaurant the two of them used to go to quite often, because “it’s been a while since I’ve taken my favorite girl out”.

A grin broke out on her face because he had asked her! And if Harry was planning it, there’s no way he’d cancel or stand her up.

So yeah, Y/N was excited.

She woke up that morning with a smile on her face, and something akin to a what she thinks a rainbow would feel like running through her veins. It had only been a few months since she’d last been on a date with her boyfriend of almost 2 years and a half in person, and she was going to make the most of it. Because after this date, things would change. They’d spend more time together again and it would be like this little bump (that neither had acknowledged) never happened.

Y/N did, well, everything to prepare. Took a long shower, shaved, put on that coconut lotion Harry likes— he tended to dig his face in her neck when he smelled it while holding her—, brushed her teeth more than 3 times, dug in her closet to find that one patterned soft purple dress she bought ages ago but never had a change to wear it, until now, put on those really cute heels Harry said he liked once (“Looks like something you’d wear on a runway pet, I love ‘em.”), and even styled her hair differently than normal.

He had told her he would swing by at 8 on the dot after the studio, and soon enough, it was 8, with no sign from the man who made the promise himself. Y/N thought maybe there was traffic, he was just running late, texted him a quick, “Can’t wait to see you!! xxx” and put her phone on the coffee table, waiting on their couch.

8 turned to 9, 9 turned to 10, 10 turned to 11, and soon it was midnight. Y/N doesn’t think she’d ever felt more empty than how she felt then, walking to their shared room of a year, slipping off her heels and tossing them towards the closet, as well as pulling her dress over herself and letting it fall to the floor behind her, grabbing that one t-shirt she always wears when she needs comfort (which just happened to an extra 2018 Live on Tour shirt Harry had laying around that she snatched just 3 months into them dating), and flopping into bed.

She couldn’t fall asleep, and instead spent her time curled up in their bedsheets, a steady flow of tears making their way down her blush covered cheeks.

。:°ஐ

Harry usually didn’t make mistakes.

Sure, he had his moments, grabbing the wrong coffee off the counter when his name was called at the cafe, forgetting to text Jeff that he actually couldn’t make it to a meeting that was scheduled in a few hours. Just little things, things that didn’t matter that much, and could always be fixed. He didn’t usually make mistakes that weren’t easy to fix. He just wasn’t that kind of guy.

Until, he was.

Harry loved Y/N. He loved having her around, loved spending time with her, loved loving on her, loved kissing her, loved touching her, loved the way she went about almost everything. He was so in love with her, that hurting her was out of the question. He never wanted to be the one to make her cry, make her bottom lip quiver before the tears rushed out like he’d seen many times before, due to movies, his songs (which as sadistic as it sounds was an ego builder to have someone so close to him so affected by the music he wrote), her school work, or even her friends that weren’t being so nice.

In fact, he was so in love with her, even being so afraid of commitment (it took him over a year of them dating to ask her to move in), all he wanted to do was blurt out those 4 dreaded words. “Will you marry me?” It was a bond for life, and he was terrified of that, but with Y/N all he wanted to do was spend the rest of his living days with her.

When Harry had come back from being in L.A. for so long and finally being in the same city as his girlfriend back at their home, all they did was spend time together. Every time he saw Y/N all he wanted to do was say those 4 words that he hadn’t even fully come to terms with himself. It was dangerous, and Harry’s self control when it came to Y/N was lacking, so he simply did was every normal person would do in his situation.

He stood her up.

Many more times than he could count, and of course he felt like the shittiest person in the world— shittiest boyfriend in the world—but at least now she can’t possibly be under the impression that he wanted to marry her, which is what he wanted. Or thought he wanted, until Sarah called him up one day after he had stood Y/N up for dinner the night before and told him off. Told Harry just how fucking terrible he made Y/N feel, how unwanted she thought she was, how she felt like they were loosing their relationship, and Harry didn’t know what to do with himself. (Of course Y/N had sobbed to Sarah about it over the phone while she was drunk off the wine she opened 40 minutes after Harry said he would be there, so she really didn’t even remember the conversation).

And later that day Harry had come home, heard her wavering voice asking if they could talk, and decided in his head he would tell her how he felt, how sorry he was, and how he wanted to be with her forever and love her forever if she allowed him. He had a few expectations for their dinner, that Y/N would probably tell him how he’s made her feel, and Harry would apologize, tell her why he did it, explain he thought it was no excuse, then tell her he plans on marrying her (obviously not proposing just yet, but finally bringing up the conversation they had never had even though they were in a serious committed relationship) and they’d go back home, have the most amazing sex ever, and forget about the whole thing.

What Harry didn’t expect was to get a call from Jeff around 5 asking him to come to the studio to fix few vocals, then end up nailing down 2 songs in one night, go to a bar with the band to celebrate, get drunk, then pass out at Mitch and Sarahs flat.

But that’s what happened, according to Mitch, who woke Harry up the very next morning.

“Good morning man, wakey wakey,” Mitch’s teasing tone echoed through Harry’s (what felt like full of vodka) brain as he groaned and squinted his eyes. “Why are you waking me up at this hour in the morning?” Harry asked drearily, sighing and simultaneously regretting last night as a whole because the last thing he wanted to do while hungover was be up before at least 9 AM.

“We’ve gotta go to meet with Jeff about tour in like a hour, H” Mitch stated .

At Mitch’s words Harry sat up on their couch, eyes wide in fear. “Wait mate, I thought tha’ meeting was on Wednesday.”

“It is Wednesday H, god how drunk did we let you get last night…” Mitch said, beginning to recount some of Harry’s antics the night before. Harry however, couldn’t hear a thing with the blood pumping through his ears. If today was Wednesday, that meant yesterday was Tuesday, and he went and got trashed at a bar with his friends Tuesday night when— when he was supposed to be on a date with Y/N, when he was supposed to confess his intentions, when he was supposed to apologize for standing her up over and over, yet instead he went and did it again.

Now this, this was a mistake.

“…H. H. Harry? Are you there?” Mitch’s voice came back into focus and Harry shook his head. “I- fuck, I was supposed to take Y/N out last night.” Harry said, his voice trembling.

‘I’m sure she’ll forgive you, it’s just one night.” Mitch tried to make Harry feel better. He knew Y/N was a very forgiving person, she would get over this in no time.

“No, she won’t. I-I’ve stood her up for the past month and a half, Mitch.”

At these words, Mitch stands straight up making pained eye contact with Sarah in the kitchen who was overhearing most of this conversation with her eyes wide. She had no idea it was this bad. “Month and a half? I thought it was just that one time a few weeks ago, Harry what the hell is wrong with you?” Harry simply shook his head and didn’t reply. He had absolutely no idea how to make it up to her. “I-fuck, I don’t know Mitch!” Harry raised his voice. “I need to see her and apologize, now.” Harry said, standing up and rushing over to the front door and slipping on his shoes.

“This meeting is mandatory Harry, as much as I want you to see her too, she’d probably still asleep, and I don’t think this can be solved in under an hour.” Mitch said calmly, already knowing Harry was close to walking out his door. Harry stayed silent for a moment, weighing the options. Either go apologize to his girlfriend, or prioritize himself over her again.

“We can do it another day, I’m sorry, but I have to go see her, tell Jeff I feel sick.” And he walked out without another word.

。:°ஐ

The morning after Harry stood Y/N up again was brutal.

She stayed up all night, replaying moments with Harry in her head, analyzing if he wanted to be there with her, wondering if maybe he felt like he had to stay with her out of pity. It was torture, and the pain seemed to turn into numbness as time went by, and eventually the sun came up, and she stayed in bed, her motivation lost.

A loud crash and “Fuck!” woke her up, swollen eyes fluttering open to the invasive noise. Y/N furrowed her brows, her mind connecting everything that happened yesterday and unfortunately reminding her of the unbearable pain she went through the night before. A groan escaped her lips as she sat up and flung her legs out of her bed sheets that had been flung off the bed in the middle of the night. She began grumbling to herself as she made her way downstairs, ready to tell Harry off for making so much noise.

Her mouth stopped moving, and instead remained in limbo as her eyes met Harry’s. His mouth opened to speak, but his words were caught in his throat as he saw the state she was in. It was when her mouth pressed into a line that he could begin talking. “Y/N, baby, please I know you don’t wanna see me or talk t’me right now but I’m so fuckin’ sorry, love. So so sorry, it was an accident, I went t’ the studio to fix a few things then got hung up on the songs and by the time we went to celebrate I completely lost track of time, and I was too drunk to drive home so I crashed at Mitch’s.”

Her mouth fell open at his words. Everything was happening too fast. Hearing that he stood her up to drink at a fucking bar to celebrate himself, then coming home and accidentally knocking over a glass in their kitchen (which she put together was the crash earlier after seeing the shards of broken glass on the floor) frustrated her to no end. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him any longer, and Harry had stopped talking after realizing what he just admitted to her. Without another glance, instead of looking at Y/N’s tear stained face, all he saw was her back, walking up the stairs to their room.

“Fuck,” He said to himself before following her up the pink stairs. “Y/N, love wait-please, I’m so sorry, I just need to talk to you, I need to explain myself, please.” He begged as she shut their bedroom door in his face, his voice turning into a desperate whine at the end.

。:°ஐ

It’s been 3 days since then, and she hasn’t spoken to him. He would leave in the mornings, kissing her forehead and mumbling an “I love you” and telling her exactly what time he’d be home, before leaving and coming back on time to find an empty plate in the sink and her lying in their bed, whether it be reading, scrolling on her phone, or typing on her laptop. He would apologize many times, reaching his hand out for hers and she would simply situate herself in their bed and lay down, back turned to him.

Harry just couldn’t take it anymore.

It was when she had finally let him kiss her forehead goodnight that he decided to take his chance. “Y/N.” He spoke softly, with no response or anything to indicate she heard him. “Baby, can we please talk- or I’ll talk and you listen, I just- I really need to say some things.”

She was still faced away from him when he leaned against their headboard and he decided to keep going.

“I- um. I’m sure you know how sorry I am, but I really am- sorry I mean. Not just for tonight but for every other time I’ve stood you up. I’m so sorry for not showing you how much you matter to me, and how much the things you do matter to me.”

It was then that she slowly sat up next to him and looked at him, eyes begging him to continue. He blushed at her intense eye-contact that he had barely gotten over the past few days and took a breath, opting to look at his hands fidgeting in his lap.

“We’ve been together for 2 and almost a half years, which is the longest relationship I’ve been in, and it’s no excuse to treat you this way, but I had just been thinking about how things progress even further than now,” He coughs. “Which is marriage, and when I finally came home, all I wanted to do was ask you to marry me- I don’t- m’not proposing right now, I just- I got really scared because wanting to spend the rest of your life with someone is crazy to me,

I’ve never thought that way about anyone else until you, I didn’t even really want to get married before you, and I started to distance myself before I ended up telling you this, but obviously that blew up in my face.” He chuckled a bit, locking eyes with her unreadable ones for a moment and lifting a hand to run through his hair. “What I’m trying to say, is that I love you, so so much, and I plan on marrying you— obviously if you want to too, of course— and I’m so sorry for trying to make you think that I didn’t care about you anymore or love you any less, because it’s the complete opposite of that.”

His eyes were watery now, as he started down at his interlocked fingers, and his eyes widened when her hand was gently placed over his own. “Harry,” Y/N began. “Look at me, please.”

His head lifted to see her facing him, her brows knitted and a small smile on her face. “I forgive you, okay? I could tell you were kind of scared of commitment when we first started dating, and I wish I could say your reason for standing me up is surprising but it’s not.” They both chuckled a bit at this. “I- I’m still upset at you, I need you to know that, because 2 months of thinking the love of your life is avoiding you doesn’t feel all too great, so you suck for that,” she said, planting a quick kiss to his cheek which quickly turned pink. “But Harry, even if you asked me to marry you a year ago I would have said yes. I love you, so much, and I plan on spending the rest of my life with you as well. I’m sorry for giving you the silent treatment, it was… unnecessary and immature. So, thank you for apologizing. I love you.” She confessed again.

“S’okay, I deserved it, and I love you too. Maybe even more. So um, we’re okay?” Harry asked, a hopeful smile on his face.

She nodded with a smile and pulled him into a much needed hug and pulled away only for him to bring her into an even more needed kiss. “If you ever try to pull that shit again, I’m breaking up with you.” She laughed and he tackled her into the sheets hiding his face in her neck.

“Duly noted, love. Duly noted.”

#harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #Harry Styles #harry styles angst #im pretty proud of this one #if I do say so myself #harry styles fanfiction #its kinda short tho sorry

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free-pool-trash · 4 years ago

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of pick up lines and garden flowers - peter maximoff

requests: Hello! I'm a big fan of basically all your Peter Maximoff x Reader stories and was wondering if you could write one where both of them got sucked into Westview and reader's "role" is a florist and Peter's in love with her or something? Bonus points if they were already together before getting trapped in the town and every time they meet, reader gets a flashback of when they were together? That would be pretty awesome to read :D

hey bestie ✨ i love this idea it’s super cute <3 thank you for sending it in i hope you enjoy <3 comments and reblogs are appreciated

word count: 1.1K (it’s short but i quite like it)

warnings: peter being dorky, really fluffy

masterlist

The sound of the bell above your door chiming alerted you that you had a customer. You smiled softly, not turning around, continuing to fix the arrangement of flowers in front of you.

“Back again?” You teased, already knowing who the visitor was without having to turn around. He came in at the same time every single day.

Once you finished adjusting the lilies on the shelf, you spun around to face the silver haired man who leaned against your cash counter casually, “Thought you needed your daily dose of vitamin P.”

“Dear god. That’s the worst one yet, truly, you’ve outdone yourself.” You cackled, busying yourself with filling out orders to avoid catching his trademark cheesy grin.

It had become a routine. He’d stroll into your shop and hit you with his best terrible pick up line and you’d send him away with a single flower.

“You smile wider the worse they are.” He informed, his dimples on full display as his grin had turned into a wide, loving smile.

If you hadn’t known better you would’ve sworn that you’ve seen that adoring smile of his before. Yeah, you’d seen it almost everyday this week but even from the very first day he’d stumbled into your shop and accidentally knocked over a vase of freshly organised hydrangeas he was familiar- he felt familiar.

Riding that train of thought you let out a soft “Oh”, as you remembered the flower you’d chosen to send him away with today. It wasn’t anything too special to the naked eye but whenever you looked at it you were hit with a sudden wave of nostalgia, the feeling was similar to the one you got when you’d lock eyes with the man who stood before you now, and so you figured why not put two good things together?

Quickly you pulled the flower out of the vase behind the cash counter where you were keeping it and presented it to Peter with a bright smile, “Tah-dah!”

Peter stared at the flower for a second, before his eyes moved up to your face. Truthfully, Peter didn’t really care about flowers, but he did however care about you and for whatever reason he couldn’t seem to keep himself from coming back to you time and time again.

He took the flower from you gently, making sure his fingers lingered against yours while you passed him the stem, he admired the steady blush that began rising on your cheeks at the contact.

“Why’d you pick a daisy?” He asked, twirling the green stem between his fingers and for a brief second, as you watched him grinning and messing with the taller than average garden flower, it was as if the fog had cleared completely.

The night was hot, you were laying in the garden simply listening to the crickets and allowing the cool breeze to sweep over you as you twirled a small daisy that you’d plucked from the grass between your fingers.

“Psst. Y/n!” Peter’s whisper startled you from your relaxation and you turned your head to look at him.

“Mhm?” Peter plopped himself down beside you, dropping his head onto your lap and letting out a content sigh as he did.

You sat up on the grass, careful not to move his head too much, you began to play with it softly as he began to speak, “Are you a magician?” He asked, looking up at your face seriously as if the question he just posed was the most important question he’d ever ask you.

Before you could even really process his question, a huge grin made its way across his lips, “Because when I’m with you everybody else disappears.”

“We’re the only people here, my love.” You reminded him through a giggle, “But counter question- Are you a parking ticket?” Peter scoffed, raising an eyebrow at you, completely unimpressed by your line’s set up.

“Why? Cuz I’ve got “fine” written all over me? Lame.” He complained rolling his eyes.

Lightly you flicked his nose, “No, I was gonna say it’s because you’re a huge inconvenience.” His gasp caused you to bark out a laugh, pleased with his outraged response.

Within a second Peter tackled you back into the grass, his fingers running up and down your sides, relentlessly. Loving the way your laughter came out in howls, the way they always did when he tickled you. Your eyes watered as he refused to let up until you were begging through squeals of laughter for him to stop. When he finally ceased his attack on your ribs, he let out a chuckle of his own and rolled off of your body, lying on the grass beside you instead.

It took you a second to catch your breath again, eventually when you managed to even out your breathing you turned your head to look at Peter, who was already looking at you. His gaze almost made you lose your breath again. His brown eyes twinkled and his skin was illuminated weakly by the moon that shone full above you, perfectly highlighting the dips in his dimpled cheeks as he smiled softly yet widely. You knew what that look was, he was in love, and conveniently; so were you.

“Truce?” You whispered, holding out the little daisy you had plucked from the grass earlier and offering it to Peter, whose smile never dimmed as he nodded in agreement.

You shimmied closer, pressed a small kiss to his nose before tucking the flower behind his ear. The image of him so in love with a daisy poking out from behind his ear was the purest, sweetest thing you’d ever seen and it caused your smile to nearly split your cheeks.

“You look perfect right now.” You voiced your thoughts quietly as to not disturb the moment.

Wordlessly, he placed his hands on your hips and tugged you into him so that your chest was flush against his. He kissed you softly, his lips moved meaningfully with yours, pouring all of his emotions into the kiss before he pulled away reluctantly.

He rested his forehead on yours and let the words he was thinking slip from his lips, his smile back and wider than it had been before your lips connected, “You’re perfect all the time.”

Peter watched in concern as you seemed to zone out for a second, a thoughtful look on your face. It only lasted a few seconds, though.

As quickly as it had gone, the fog returned and the memory slipped away as if it were never there to begin with, leaving only a feeling of warmth behind. With a gentle shake of your head, you zoned back in on Peter.

His heart skipped a beat at the smile that stretched across your lips. It was dazzling, no that wasn’t it, it was perfect.

He watched mesmerised as you shrugged your shoulders and spoke through a grin, “Not sure. It just reminded me of you… for some reason.”

Maybe, you’d been right to say you’d known him before. There was something so vividly sentimental to you about the boy that had you convinced that; yes, perhaps you had been met with his adoring smile before- in another life.

#peter maximoff x reader #peter maximoff #peter maximoff imagine #wandavision x reader #wandavision spoilers #pietro maximoff #pietro maximoff x reader

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aggressive-positivity-network · 4 years ago

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i love your debate style so much cause people will say the dumbest shit and complete misrepresent trans rights and you'll just be like "oh of course not! here's a well reasoned counter :) also would you like to hear about this lighthearted but irrelevant thing" your url is completely correct and you are braver than any cop

And it works!

That’s the great thing about it!

If you treat every argument like a formal debate, TERFs shrink from it like a vampire from the sun. They aren’t used to people being so willing to calmly write a rebuttal and treat them like you’re both in a real debate. Without emotion and insults, whatever argument they are using falls apart - and the more detail you make them go into, the more they squirm.

Ask for sources. Ask for articles. Ask for clarification.

Take everything literally.

Show them that you aren’t angry, because why would you be? This is just a friendly debate, right? We’re just doing this over the benefit of knowledge.

I’ve gotten asks and comments that people either don’t respond to when I give them this treatment, or they get mad and block me, telling me that I’m too stupid to have this argument anyway. Okay! Take something from the prize box on your way out!

It’s been two days and I’m already scraping the bottom of the barrel of hate anons. No new ones are coming up, and if they do, it’s what usually amounts to a pitiful mew for attention. I’m imagining a toddler stomping their feet and whining, on the verge of throwing a fit.

“Why aren’t you maaaaaad? Pay attention to meeeeee! Why aren’t you doing anythiiiiiiiiiing? WAAAAAAAAAAAAA!”

I think I’m really taking a chunk out of them, and I couldn’t be happier. If you want, try using the same tactics! Here’s the steps, just in case you want to practice before you have your own tantruming child in your inbox:

How To Tick Off A TERF

1. Get the ask! Or the comment, post, or reblog. Take a good, hard look at it. Make sure you understand everything that the TERF is trying to say. This also keeps you from going in guns blazing when there’s really no need to respond at all. I’ve lost plenty of debates because I didn’t read everything clearly.

2. Take a deep breath. Maybe more than one, if you need. The best way to tick a TERF off is to not be pissed yourself. No matter how stupid they are being, remember that this is like a school debate, and they’ve pitted you against what amounts to a twelve year old child. Take a walk. Think about your response while making lunch. Sleep on it. Let your brain marinate in it. Don’t answer until you are completely calm. Remember not to take this personally, even if you know someone who is trans or you are trans. Anger is not how you win this battle, I promise.

3. Kill with kindness. When you start writing your response, put yourself in the mindset of a kind, child-like entity that’s just excited about learning together with someone. It sounds super weird, but that’s how I do it. Pretend that the argument you received has merit and weight, but don’t trick yourself into thinking that it has any bearing on anything. Don’t use insulting or emotional language. It may feel good to let off steam, but it doesn’t prove your point in the long run.

4. State your case. Write your rebuttal in a clear, well-worded way. Stay away from long metaphors or examples - they’ll just get more confused and angry. If you can, include articles, statistics, and sources for all your information, if you can find them. Keep going back to the TERFs argument to make sure you don’t miss anything. Try to predict any obvious arguments they may make and prepare for them. Read it once more before sending.

5. Let you phone boil. What I mean by this is to leave your phone somewhere for a while while your post/message circulates. This not only rests your brain, but it keeps you from anxiously waiting for the TERF to respond. Turn your notifications off. Relax. You did good.

6. Repeat. This person may send you several messages, and may reblog several times. Make sure to follow the steps each time you make your next rebuttal.

7. Use positive language and reinforcement. Like I said, the best way deescalate is to be as formal, put-together, and kind as possible. Treat them like a very misguided child - because that’s truly what they are sometimes. And this also brings up the possibility to younger TERF members that maybe the trans community isn’t so bad (like they had been taught to believe), and that maybe they shouldn’t be afraid of us. We aren’t dangerous. We just want to support the people who don’t get a whole lot of support. Bring up a happy memory. Include a picture of something cute. Make a cute little scenario (my favorite is the prize box). This will either lower their anger or heighten it to a rage, where their true intentions come to light and they lose the debate.

8. Have fun! Really, have fun. Misinformation is bad, but you can’t convince someone who won’t listen. Just treat it as a game, because that’s all it is to you. Unlike the TERF community, you have better things to do than argue with people on the internet. Put your own spins on it! Support people who choose to change! Ignore people who don’t! In other words, take the piss out of people who are full of it.

I hope this helps, my friend! This will probably get a lot more hate anons, so feel free to stick around for the show.

I’m anxiously waiting for the first KYS. Feel free to place bets on when that’s going to happen. I’m saying before the next ten asks. Any takers?

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just-dreaming-marvel · 4 years ago

Text

My Superhero

MAIN MASTERLIST

Steve Rogers x Reader

Word Count: 1,500ish

Summary: You and Steve’s relationship is fairly new, so you haven’t told him everything yet.

Notes: I did a Tony Stark one about chronic illness called Invisible Pain. I wanted to do a Steve Rogers one as well.

Feeling completely well on any given day was a luxury. It never really mattered what medicine, diet, or amount of essential oil you put on, your joints hurt. End of story. Of course, it wasn’t completely random. You had Rheumatoid Arthritis, so there was a reason for it. You just sometimes wished that your arthritis was located in specific joints instead of all of them.

You were currently in your apartment getting ready for your fifth date with none other than Captain America’s, Steve Rogers. He was suppose to pick you up in a little more than an hour and, yet, you still couldn’t get out of your pj’s to shower. Your shoulders were causing you excruciating pain. Trying to take your shirt off was bringing you to tears, each try more unsuccessful than the next.

You were at a loss of what to do. You had yet to inform Steve about your chronic illness due to past experiences. Every other man you had dated, or tried to, quickly left you in the dust after finding out that you would forever be sick and that it would slowly get worse with age. So you had told yourself that you would tell Steve once you were official, even though there was still a chance of heartbreak even then. You just wanted to enjoy this while it lasted.

Steve was so sweet, kind, and gentle towards you. You two had met after he accidentally walked into you about two months ago on the side walk. This was only your five date in that span of time due to the missions he was constantly being called on. Though, the two of you texted or talked on the phone whenever you could.

You were currently sitting on the edge of your bed, staring at the typed up message just waiting to be sent. At this point, canceling the date was your only option. You couldn’t change and you had already maxed out on drugs for the night. You sighed, a tear strolling down your cheek, as you pressed sent.

You: Hey, Steve :) I’m so sorry to do this to you at such late of notice, but something’s come up and I won’t be able to make it today. Sorry :( Can we reschedule?

It didn’t take long for Steve to respond.

Steve: hey doll :) is everything okay?

You: Yeah, I’m just not feeling the greatest. But I’ll be fine after some much needed rest. How does next Friday sound?

Steve: Next Friday sounds wonderful. But are you sure you’re okay? Do you need anything? I could come over and we could stay in for the night. Order food and watch one of the movies I’ve yet to catch up on.

This man was too good to you. Almost too perfect. But you were too scared. You didn’t want to lose him just yet. You were enjoying it too much to be hurt already.

You: I’ll be fine, Steve. I just need some rest. You should probably get some too. I’ll talk to you later.

He didn’t respond. You sighed, laying back on your bed, tensing at the pain in your joints. You closed your eyes, trying to will your pain away, to no avail. Apparently, you had slightly fallen asleep because when a few knocks sounded at your door, you jumped up. Immediately regretting it because of the pain that shot through your joints.

Confused, dazed, and in pain, you shuffled over to the door. You didn’t even bother checking the peep hole before opening the door. Your jaw practically dropped to the floor at the sight in front of you. There was Steve, standing there in sweatpants and sweat shirt, your favorite flowers in one hand and two boxes of pizza in the other.

“Steve?” You questioned quietly, willingly yourself to stay put instead of run away embarrassed. You knew you didn’t look your best. “What—what are you doing here?”

“I came to check on you,” he responded with a gentle smile. “Can’t have my best girl feeling unwell now, can I?”

“Steve,” you shook your head, “you really didn’t—“

“Of course I did. Now, are you going to let me in or do I have to let myself in?”

Biting your lip, you opened the door wider, letting him walk in. Steve went straight to the kitchen, setting the pizzas down on the counter.

“Do you have a vase?” He asked, looking around. “For the flowers?”

“Under the sink,” you responded. “Um… I’m going to change.” You pointed over your shoulder, immediately regretting it and grimacing.

“Y/N, is something wrong?” His concerned eyes raked over you.

“No, nothings wrong. I just need to change. I-I haven’t gotten out of these all day.”

The look in his blue eyes told you all you needed to know, he didn’t believe you. You turned around as quickly as you could. You could feel his eyes following you as you disappeared into your room. You slowly pulled down your pj pants, holding in a cry as you did. Pulling up clean sweats was easier, thankfully. It was the new shirt, you knew would be the killer.

Taking a deep breath, you grabbed the hem of your shirt and tried to pull it over your head. Failing to conceal the whimpered cry that left your lips, you heard Steve’s quick footsteps stop at your door.

“Y/N?” He called outside the door. “Are you okay?”

“Y-yeah,” you responded, clearly your throat. “I’m fi-fine.”

“Are you sure? Do… do you, uh, need help?”

“No! I’ll be right out.”

Steve didn’t move from his spot outside your bedroom door. In fact, he leaned in, pressing his ear to the door. He could hear you breathing deeply, like you were trying to calm down. Which concerned him. You had told him that you hadn’t been feeling well, but you looked like you were fine. So what was going on? He waited, keeping quiet at your door.

Inside, you were still trying to get your shirt off. You were riding it up, but you couldn’t get it past your breasts. You let out a louder cry, finally breaking. Steve couldn’t wait any longer, he came in to see you in tears on your bed.

“Oh, doll,” he cooed, heart breaking at the sight of you. He rushed over and sat beside you on the bed. “What’s wrong?”

“I’m… I’m so sorry, St-steve,” you cried. “I didn’t want you to find out like this… honestly, I hoped you would never find out.”

“Find out about what?”

He went to put an arm around you, to pull you into him. But when he put his hand on your shoulder, you winced and let out a small whine. His hand quickly was off your shoulder and the furrow between his brows increased.

“Y/N? What’s going on?”

“I… I… I’m sick.”

“Like, with the flu? Or… or worse?”

“I guess, you could say, something in between.” You looked at Steve to see him intently listening. “I… I have arthritis. Rheumatoid Arthritis. It’s where, well… my body is attacking its own tissue and joints. Even… even my internal organs. As I age, it will slowly get worse. Possible bone erosion and joint deformity… It’s painful, but I’ve been able to manage it. I still have good days and bad. Today… today’s—“

“A bad day. Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“Because all the other guys I’ve dated have left me after finding out. I… I like what we have. And I don’t want to lose it. But… but I’ll understand if this is too much for you.” You looked down at the hands resting in your lap. “It is for everyone else.”

“Y/N… can you look at me, doll?” He carefully guided your head back up. “I am so extremely sorry that others have been so stupid. They obviously don’t know what they’re missing out on. And I guess that makes me lucky, cause now I get to know you and get to fall in love with you.”

“You’re… you’re falling in love with me?”

Steve nodded. “Yes. And I would like the opportunity to keep doing so, if you’ll have me?”

“Of course. Will you… will— you still want to date me?”

“The fact that you go through life every day, trying your hardest and pushing yourself, even though you don’t have to. That only makes me fall more in love with you.” He gently cupped your cheek. “You’re a real superhero.”

You giggled. “No, I’m just—“

“My superhero. You’re my superhero.” He pressed a short kiss to your lips. “Thank you,” he whispered, “for telling me. Please know that you don’t have to hide from me. I really don’t want you to. I want to help you in any way I can.”

“Thank you, Steve.”

He gave you another kiss. “Now, how about we eat the probably cold pizza and watch anything you want?”

“I’d like that.”

I have Rheumatoid Arthritis, but I would like to remind people that everyone who has it suffers from it differently. This story is based off of my own personal pain and struggles. I go through most days pushing through the pain that is constantly there without most people realizing. And I know that I’m not the only one.

Remember, everyone is going through unseen challenges. Please be kind to everyone you interact with/come across.

Comments, likes, reblogs, and asks are always welcome!

#steve rogers x reader #captain america x reader #Steve Rogers #steve rogers imagine #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america fanfiction #the avengers x reader #avengers x reader #marvel x reader #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #avengers imagine #captain america imagine #captain america

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penguintransporter · 3 years ago

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Walker (John Stones imagine) Part III

Okay, this is definitely turning into a story, rather than imagine, but I am so enjoying writing this, but I think since the chapters are much shorter, it’ll need two more chapters to complete it. This one is dedicated to everyone who has read and liked the previous chapters, but especially @rosie7703 hope you enjoy this one as well. Read, enjoy, like, comment, reblog, whatever you feel like doing. Love you all!

Part I | Part II

Rosie’s phone vibrated in the back pocket of her dark, denim jeans, and when she reached out for it to check it, she couldn’t help but smile like a fool at the name that was written on the screen.

Have a safe trip, Rosie.

Sheepishly, she sucked in her bottom lip between her teeth, feeling her heartbeat accelerate - fingers hovering over the reply button. When she gave him the phone number the night before, and told him to text her, she never thought he would actually do it, but he did - the very same night, giving her the reason to stay awake more than she had planned too.

Rosie kept smiling to herself as she thought about her answer, but as she was about to type it, the doors of her brother’s room opened with a small squeak, making her lock the phone and put it away.

“What drugs did you take this morning?” her brother asked, walking through the narrow doorway and into the kitchen, wearing a pair of pyjama bottoms and a wrinkled t-shirt with the emblem of his favourite football club, embroidered on the left side of his chest. Both items that he was wearing were way too small for him and his lanky figure - trousers barely reaching his ankles. “Having you smile like that so early in the morning is unsettling.”

Rosie grinned, looking over her shoulder at her younger sibling as she filled the old kettle with tap water, suddenly feeling sad for him. He was slumped over in a single barstool, and with his messy hair and tired face-expression, he looked as if a boulder ran him over. Twice.

“Obviously, not the same as you,” she answered, knowing perfectly that she was about to hit the right nerve.

“You’re annoying, you know that?” he muttered, lifting his head for a second from where it rested on the kitchen counter, “and I think, your happiness makes me sick to my stomach. Can you go back to being your boring self?”

Rosie only rolled her eyes at her brother’s childish behaviour before placing the kettle on the already warm hob - droplets of water sliding down and onto the stove and turning into the steam instantly.

“It’s hardly my happiness that makes you sick to your stomach,” she spoke calmly, “it’s the amount of alcohol and God knows what that you’ve consumed in the past week,” Rosie added with a grin, opening the cupboard to pick a mug from the empty shelf. How her brother survived with three mugs and two plates was beyond the mystery to her. “Cuppa?”

Her brother didn’t look up, but managed to raise his hand a little before flipping her off, and Rosie couldn’t help but laugh.

“What I need is something that will fix my head?” he muttered quietly, shaking his head before wincing - a small profanity leaving his mouth.

“I’ve got Ibuprofen,” Rosie offered.

“Nah,” he responded, sliding down from the stool before walking to the refrigerator - the white front of it covered in way too many red stickers, matching to the emblem on his t-shirt.

Rosie shrugged as she proceeded to pour the boiling water over her teabag, watching her brother from the corner of her eye as he took out a bag with, what looked like, frozen dumplings before putting it on top of his head - wincing a little as he did so. She tried to contain her laughter inside her throat as she looked back at her tea, pressing her lips together.

“Hey,” she started, trying to subtly change the topic, “I need to ask you something.” Her brother ignored her as he made his way towards the sitting room, and Rosie sighed, unsure how to formulate her question without sounding too eager. “Do you know any lads named John?”

Her brother looked at her from where he was half-sitting, half-laying on the sofa with Walker sitting next to him - the dog’s head resting in her brother’s lap.

“Here? In Barnsley?” he asked as Rosie made her way towards him, stepping over her weekender bag that rested on the floor, along with her trainers and a tote-bag with some snacks for her trip home to Manchester. Rosie nodded, humming softly, while trying to contain her giddiness. “I know a few, why?”

“Any of them have tattoos?” she asked, sitting down before setting her cup of tea on a random brochure from the local sushi place.

“John Sutcliffe has a panda bear on his arse, but you know him. Why?”

Rosie made a small grimace, remembering who exactly John Sutcliffe was and why she remembered him in the first place. Their first encounter ended up with him stealing a pair of knickers from Rosie’s bedroom and taking it to the school with him to brag about sleeping with his mate’s older sister.

“Ah,” she murmured, trying to pretend that she wasn’t bothered by the information that her brother gave her. “I just met a lad the other day in the park,” she started again, “his face was oddly familiar and I was wondering if I’ve met him before. I thought it was maybe one of your mates.”

Her brother gave her a small, disinterested shrug, and Rosie sighed, reaching out to stroke Walker’s furry back as she took a small sip of her tea.

“It’s none that I know. The Johns that I know, two of them live in London, and the other two visit the park only at night, to drink with the bums.”

“I assume Sutcliffe is one of them,” Rosie murmured, making her brother throttle as he turned on TV.

Rosie leaned back into the sofa, taking her phone out of her pocket and looking at the screen - the stream of messages they exchanged last night greeting her. With a slide of her finger, she scrolled through them - a small smile appearing on her lips as she stopped at the particular text that made her heart skip a beat.

I really want to see you again.

“Speaking of lads named John,” her brother’s voice caught her attention, stopping her train of thoughts, and she curiously looked at him, waiting for him to continue. “There’s John Stones, and he’s originally from around here, a bit older than me. But, he might as well not be from around here,” he said as he placed his feet on the coffee table in front of them. “Don’t like him.”

“And he lives in Barnsley now?” she asked, eager to hear the answer - anticipation eating her on the inside. Her brother grinned at her, adjusting the bag of frozen dumplings that he still held on top of his head. “What?” Rosie inquired, almost defensively.

Her younger sibling kept his smirk on as he pointed at the TV screen with the hand in which he still held the TV remote. “You are so useless,” he muttered, “how do you even live in Manchester? It’s just bloody amazing…” he trailed off, and Rosie huffed slightly in annoyance, causing her brother to chuckle. “No, he doesn’t live in Barnsley, Rosie,” her brother drawled out, “because he’s a bloody Citizen. Liked him much better when he was at Everton.”

With a confusion etched across her face, Rosie slowly moved her gaze from her brother’s amused face and at the TV - the phone she held in her hands instantly dropping into her lap as her eyes met with the familiar blue ones.

He looked tired, but content as he stood in front of a Sky Sports backdrop, wearing a light blue jacket - his hair as sweaty as on the day when she first met him. With a small smile, John was nodding at the journalist who was asking him something, but despite the volume being high, she couldn’t hear a word because her heartbeat was drumming loudly inside her ears.

She kept her eyes focused on the man on the screen, and when he laughed at whatever they were talking about, Rosie’s heart dropped to the bottom of her stomach.

Hope you like it. Tagging quickly @avenirdelight because she asked me to do so. If you want to be tagged as well, let me know.

#john stones #manchester city #john stones imagine #john stones fanfiction #john stones oneshot #football fanfiction #football imagine #football oneshots #footballer imagines

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dontworrysunflower · 4 years ago

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Merry Fucking Christmas | h.s.

a/n: i’m baaaaccckk!! lol idk it took me a while to finish this and i was gonna have it finished before christmas but then i was exposed to covid so i was little paranoid but anyway (i’m good tho). merry christmas and happy holidays!! i know this years been hard but hopefully we can make it a little better :)

warnings: drinking, angst?? idk not proof read word vomit, some language too

word count: 3.1k

also thank you @watchmegetobsessed !!

feedback/reblogs appreciated

You knew the holidays this year were going to be difficult. You procrastinated on getting gifts for your friends. Your work seemed to pile up on your desk since you got your promotion. You weren’t able to fly back home, and you still had some thanksgiving weight you weren’t able to put off.

Oh yeah, another thing. Harry was still with his girlfriend.

You met Katy, Harry’s girlfriend, at his birthday party in February. She was the epitome of ‘his type’. She had bleach blonde extensions and the bluest eyes you've ever seen. She was tall and really, really loud.

Since then, she’s all he ever talked about when they weren’t together, but when they were in the same room, boy did you want to gag.

You thought they would last maybe three to four months, you were so sure, you bet with some of your other friends.

Needless to say, you lost quite a lot of money.

You tried not to let it bother you, really. But it was so hard when Harry is the literal sweetest person you’ve met, had the voice of an angel and wasn’t bad to look at.

You felt you were the closest with Harry when you moved to London. He made you feel welcome in your little friends group. There was a little flirting game between the two of you that you didn’t even notice until one of your friends brought it up.

“Oh c’mon, it’s so obvious you like each other.” Margot slurred, her second glass clinking against the table as she finished every drop.

“What?” You asked, baffled. Your eyes were wide and your face started to heat up. “He doesn’t like me.”

“But you like him?” Ava, a friend from work, smirked at you.

You stumbled on your words, wiping at the condensation on your glass.

But since he was in a relationship now, you felt almost icky around him. You felt so uncomfortable around him that you did whatever you could to not be in the same room as him.

You were ready for the holidays, you thought. It would give you a break from constantly thinking about him being so busy with your family back in your hometown.

You should’ve known London weather wouldn’t be in your favor. It rained constantly everyday and the fog seemed to get closer to the ground every other day. The weather was getting so bad that you started working from home, the roads too wet and icy to drive on. So honestly, you weren’t that surprised when airports closed due to the weather, meaning you had to spend Christmas in London.

With Harry.

The day after flights were cancelled Harry texted on your group chat saying he could host a dinner and party on Christmas eve and everyone was invited. You watched texts from your other friends flood in, some excited vulgar words were thrown in there as well.

You never responded. Not only because you still felt weird around him for having this massive crush on him, but because things haven’t really been the same between you two.

You can’t remember the last time you had a full on conversation with him before you had to excuse yourself because you couldn’t take the ache in your chest when you were around him, and he wasn’t yours. You can’t remember the last joke he ever told you or when you went out for lunch or drinks when it was only the two of you. You were sure he noticed how weird you were around him, but never said anything, so you let it be.

As the day neared, your mind would change on whether you were going or not. You didn’t want to seem bitchy and cold on what was supposed to be the happiest and cheerful day of the year, so you thought you would go. You thought of every reason you shouldn’t go that had nothing to do with Harry, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to handle seeing him cozy up with his very serious girlfriend.

But there would be alcohol, so you decided to go.

•••

Hey (y/n)! Think you come over early and help me set up for tomorrow? H xx

You stared at the text for what seemed like hours, but it was only a couple seconds. Before you could even register what your fingers were doing, you tied up a quick message and hit send before you could stop yourself.

Of course!! See you tomorrow!

You hated yourself for the rest of the day. Why would you do this to yourself? You could barely be in the same room as him and some other friends. How would you survive being alone before the party started?

•••

The butterflies in your stomach have not been able to settle since you woke up Christmas Eve morning. Just the thought of seeing him made you nervous. You almost didn’t get out of bed that morning. But you pat yourself on the back when your feet finally hit your wooden flooring and moved on with your day.

Your shoulders hung low beside you as the time to meet up grew closer, the sun lowering behind you, Christmas lights and inflatable decorations coming to life as stars dotted the sky.

You sighed heavily as you styled your hair and naturally did your makeup.

You slid on your silky, tight dress and grabbed your coat and quickly made your way to your car to get away from the bitter cold.

You rubbed your hands together, blowing into them to regain some feeling before turning the key into the ignition, quickly turning the heater on, Mariah Carey blasting through your speakers.

You were about to pull out of your driveway, mumbling along to Mariah’s notes when you realized you forgot the gifts.

•••

Your shoulders were hunched up as you knocked on the white door, your foot tapping against the brick stairs of Harry’s house as you waited for him to open it in the freezing cold.

You could hear shuffling from the other side and watched the doorknob wiggle, Harry having trouble with his lock since June and still hasn’t had anyone fix it.

The door swings open to reveal Harry in his glory, brown corduroy pants and an ugly Christmas sweater under an apron that’s tied around his slender waist that you’ve always been jealous of.

“Hey, sorry, come on in.” Harry said to you before moving out of the way, a bowl nestled between his side and his arm.

You mumbled a quiet thank you before stepping in, your cheeks reddening at the warmth enveloping you as you walked through the foyer of his home.

“Mm,” he hummed as he remembered something. He puts down the bowl he had on his white kitchen counter and waddles over to you, a small curve on his lips as he wrapped his arms around you. “Merry Christmas, love.”

You hate that nickname. But you don’t. You hate the butterflies that flutter in your stomach when he says that word. You hate the goosebumps it causes you and the hairs sticking up on your neck when he says the one thing you feel too harshly for him. And you hate how much he doesn’t feel it back.

“Merry Christmas, Harry.” You mumbled into his neck, his cologne flooding your senses bringing you comfort.

He doesn’t let go of you yet, but he backs up just a little to see you. “You look gorgeous, (y/n).”

The air gets stuck in your lungs and you almost forgot how to formulate words. You hoped Harry thought the pigment on your cheeks would be from the cold because it totally was. Before it was obvious how his words affected you, you stuttered out a few words. “Thank you, you look nice too.”

He chuckled at you, the breath passing his lips hitting your neck, a tingle passing through your spine. “You don’t have to lie, darling.” He squeezed you one last time before letting you go, your body instantly becoming colder as he backed away.

There's a low hum of Christmas music playing in his surround sound system, a tall tree tucked in a corner between his burning fireplace and window looking out onto the street.

You turn your attention back to Harry as he speaks up again, his famous dimples puncturing his cheeks. “Thanks fo’ comin’ early to help me out.”

You rolled your coat off your shoulders and hung by the door, walking up to him as he moved around the kitchen. “Oh yeah, it’s no problem. Not like I had anything else to do.”

He gave you a small sympathetic smile before throwing a tray full of greens into the oven. “I’m sorry you couldn’t go see your family.”

You shrug as you run your finger on the edge of his marble counter. “It’s alright, nothing I can do much anyway.” You perk up when you remember what you’re doing here so early in the first place. “Guess that’s why I’m here, no? What can I help you with?” Your heels click as you move around the counter closer to him.

“Nope.” His lips puckered as he pushed you back to where you were standing. “Just stand there and talk to me. Wine?”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you blindly nod, watching him uncork a bottle of Moscato. Your favorite.

He hands you a glass of the sparkling wine before turning back around to the dishes, prepping food of all kinds for everyone and most importantly; eggnog.

“But, you said you needed my help.”

He chuckled nervously, his cheeks reddening. From your comment or from the wine? You weren’t going to get your hopes up. “I just need some company before the party. Just stand there and look pretty.”

You try your hardest ignore the blush on your cheeks. You twirl the wine glass from the neck, watching the liquid swirl around in the depths of the glass. “What about Katy?”

He sighs deeply, opening the oven to check on the food. “We’ve been kind of fighting lately.”

You did your best to stop the grin from forming on your lips, hoping he did notice your sudden burst at the new information. They are still together, so you can’t act on anything. “I’m sorry. Can I ask what’s going on?”

He shrugs. “I don’t know really. Anything and everything. Every little thing I do annoys her and anything she does annoys me. It just wasn’t the same.”

“Is she coming?” You ask before you can think about it.

He shrugs again, shoulders hanging more than usual. “I don’t think so. She said she was staying home since she can‘t fly back to her family either.”

A silence hangs between the two of you when neither of you said anything, not really sure of what needs to be said next.

“I don’t think I feel the same way for her as I did in the beginning.” Harry mumbled, arms crossed over his chest as his hip leaning against the counter, his usually bright eyes a little darker, a little sadder.

You walk up to him and lay your hand on his shoulder, giving him a small smile. “It’s not my business but, if you really feel that way, you shouldn’t lead her on, it’ll only hurt both of you.”

Harry looks down at the floor as he nods. “Thanks, love.”

There’s a wave of silence between you again as he raises his head to look at you. You almost felt small under his gaze. Something about his crystal green eyes always made you nervous. You were scared he could see what you were really thinking.

And you also swear his eyes fell to your lips.

•••

The dinner party was in full swing now, people’s laughter bleeding in with the loud Christmas music playing around the house. Some people were dancing in front of the fireplace, drinks being refilled every once in a while.

You were standing by the counter with your friends, Margot and Ava, chatting and drinking your eggnog instead of the wine you had before the party started. You had completely forgotten about the wonderful man hosting this party, the conversation you had earlier with him slipping your mind as the drink in your hand lowered to the bottom of the glass, intoxicating your thoughts.

Even though you offered to help, Harry didn’t let you help with the rest of dinner before everyone came over, so now the food still wasn’t ready as people flooded in. You heard him say something about potatoes and that was as much as you knew of the food preparation and when you would be able to eat.

The music is lowered a bit and then a clicking sound was heard, everyone turning their heads towards Harry, who clinked a fork against his glass. “Dinner is ready!”

Everyone cheered and started making their way towards the dining room. Most people had already filtered towards the next room when a knock on the front door was heard.

You turned your head as Harry twisted the knob. You were sure Harry's face mimicked yours when you saw who was standing at the doorway.

There stood Katy, hair newly bleached and a little overdressed.

She wasted no time in wrapping her arms around him, her plump lips repeatedly marking his face with the bright lipstick.

“Oh god,” you waltzed over towards Ava, who was pouring herself a new glass of eggnog. “pass me the eggnog, I can’t stand this sober.” You pushed her over slightly and grabbed the handle of the ladle she was using, filling up your cup almost to the brim.

Ava looked at you in curiosity at your sudden change, carefully looking over at the lovely couple still by the door. “Wait, I thought you told me they were fighting.” She whispered beside you, eyes widening as she watched you gulp down some of the eggnog you just served yourself to give yourself some more.

“Guess fucking not.” You were much less sober now, on the brink of tipsy and drunk. Your words slurred, eyelids heavy, vision blurry. “Let’s go fucking eat.” You dragged Ava by the wrist towards the commotion in the dining room, almost, but not quite forgetting about the couple behind you.

•••

You’ve had four glasses of eggnog. Or was it five? But now, you stand in front of the bowl, pouring some into your glass again, making it six.

“Don’t you think you’ve had enough?” You hear his sultry voice behind you, his tone a little sassy and annoyed, but you didn’t care.

“What are you gonna do about it?” You slurred, turning around to face him. His pink lips were turned down in a frown, his eyebrows furrowed in frustration, his buff arms that were constricted in his sweater cross in front of his chest. “Gonna go kiss your girlfriend some more?” You stumbled on your feet, your drink almost spilling over the rim.

“What does that have to do with anything?” His face changed from annoyance to confusion. His thumb twisting the ring on his other finger nervously.

You open your mouth to retaliate, but even in this drunk state you knew not to say anything. You chug the creamy drink, keeping eye contact with him, watching his face change again. You didn’t care.

He obviously didn’t care either.

You sighed dramatically as you finished the drink. “Merry fucking Christmas.”

•••

You had sobered up quite a bit after your little encounter with Harry, mainly because there was no eggnog left.

You realized it was for the better though, so you made your way back into the kitchen, doing your best to not stumble or bump against anything as you grabbed an empty cup to fill with water.

“I am really sorry.” You knew his voice anywhere. But it wasn’t his usual chirpy, charming voice he had that always soothed you, it sounded more sad and somber.

“On Christmas? Out of any day you chose today?” Katy sniffled, voice wobbly and hurt.

“I know but, you know we can’t go on any longer, we’ll just hurt each other more.”

“I think I'm going to head out.”

You don’t hear Harry say anything back, but the sound of the door clicking open catches your attention and you almost turn around to watch.

“I just have one question.” Katy said weakly.

You walked away before you could hear anything else.

��••

Even though you were still a little upset at Harry (For what? You weren’t sure anymore), you stayed behind as everyone left to help him clean up before you head home.

You were putting things back in his refrigerator when you heard the front door close, the light chatter and drunken goodbyes silenced by the wooden door.

You kept your back towards the door, suddenly nervous of the words that would be spoken between the two of you.

“(y/n), can we talk?” Harry’s voice was low and sultry, your knees almost gave out.

“I should um-I should get going. It’s late.” You hurry around him to grab your things and for the door, but he holds your wrist.

“Please?” He sounded desperate, and for the first time in what felt like days you looked up into his emerald eyes. There was that desperate look in his eyes, his eyebrows furrowed and lips turned down into a frown.

You sigh and nod slowly.

He lets go of your wrist and stuffed his hands in his back pockets, his pink cheeks either from the cold or from nervousness.

“I’m sorry.” He said suddenly. “I didn’t mean to get mad and I know I shouldn’t have said anything.”

Is that it?

You weren’t going to lie, you thought he would profess his love to you or something.

“I um- I also,” he swallows and takes your hand, his rings cold to the touch. “I broke up with Katy.”

Your mouth opened for words to come out but nothing ever left your lips.

“Do you want to know the real reason why Katy and I were fighting?”

You’re still speechless, scared of the answer, even though you have an idea of what he'll say.

“I’ve always liked you, (y/n).” His shoulders rise in a deep breath. “I guess, I don’t know, I thought if I started seeing someone else it would it easier but, not being with you this past year has been hell and I know I haven’t made it any easier with being with Katy but—”

Your lips crash on his, your arms wrapping his neck, your fingers immediately tangling in his brown locks.

He stumbles back in shock but grabs at your hips, bringing you closer to his chest.

His pink lips press against yours, the corners slowly turning up into a smile, breaking your kiss.

“Merry fucking Christmas to me.”

•••

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prettyboybarzal · 5 years ago

Text

lessons in romance // nate mackinnon x reader

summary: nate mackinnon is really bad at keeping a steady girlfriend. so bad that’s become somewhat of a joke between him and the boys. but you come along and try to set him straight.

word count: 14k+

author’s note: it’s finally here. i’m honestly surprised at how fast i cranked this out... which is actually a LOT longer than most people write on here so mayb i shouldn’t brag lmao! this fic was inspired by THIS gifset. PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE give me feedback/reblog!!!!!!

warnings: smut (i jumped out of my comfort zone people. i finally wrote some lmfao) & mentions of a past toxic ex

Weekends were better spent in bed or visiting family, not sitting in a crowded bar with men who reminded you slightly of your ex-boyfriend. You were probably overreacting a little bit because the guys truly meant well, but their overly boy-ish energy was startlingly similar to that of your ex. Maybe a few more drinks would help the cause and you could get passed the sex jokes.

Mel Landeskog was the reason you were there. She wouldn’t take no for an answer, much like her husband, and so you were sitting across the booth from some of the largest men you’d ever seen in your life. Gabe gave you the rundown of their names as they arrived though the only one you could remember was Cale. He was a perpetually blushing 21-year-old named after a vegetable; how could you forget him?

“Do you think Nate’s upset about this one?” Cale asked. The new topic of conversation was their friends’ disastrous date since he texted to tell them he was broken up with and was on his way to them. “They were sort of serious.”

“We’re about to find out,” Gabe announced, nodding towards the entrance of the bar. Nate was on his way to the booth, tired smile on his lips. As he got closer, he started shaking his head and the table erupted in chirps at his expense.

You recognized him from earlier at the Landeskog’s pregame. He was slipping out of the front door as you stepped in. His cologne was the type the good-looking guys always wear, and you weren’t disappointed when you looked up at him. He was handsome with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled to his elbows and the top three buttons undone, and when he smiled, you all but swallowed your tongue.

He began to greet his teammates. The chain around his neck caught the light of the DJ booth and you found yourself gazing at it. You tore your eyes away from the gold at the sound of Mel’s voice introducing you.

“This is my girlfriend, YN, from my Saturday morning Cycle class,” she said. “And, YN, this is my husband’s boyfriend, Nate MacKinnon.”

He threw his head back in a laugh at Mel’s joke as he extended a hand to you. “Nice to meet you.”

You listened to the quips from his teammates, each one with their own opinion about Nate’s relationship or lack thereof. It seemed like this wasn’t the first time in recent months that he’d been broken up and it had become somewhat of a spectacle to the boys. Mel, who’d seen this song and dance one too many times, wrapped her fingers around your elbow and tugged you with her towards the bar.

“What was that about?”

“Nate can’t hold down a girlfriend,” she explained. “It’s been a joke since he first came here because they almost all have the same issue with him.”

“And what is that?”

“He’s not romantic enough.”

You glanced back over your shoulder and watched the boys laughing amongst each other. It looked like they were celebrating as they lifted their beers in a sad looking toast, and it hit you right where it hurt.

You really saw your ex-boyfriend in the group now and, though you tried not to make assumptions, you found it hard to set the first impression aside. The liquor in your system didn’t help. With each joke about his dating misadventures, you became less of a fan of him and by the end of the night you were bubbling over in annoyance.

Gabe and Mel offered Nate a ride home towards the end of the night and you managed to keep your expression neutral when he accepted. As they headed out to grab the car, you and Nate waited at the curb several feet away from each other.

“I’m sorry about your break up,” you offered after a moment of silence. The statement came out more like a question and Nate’s lips quirked up into a smirk at the inflection of your voice. “Sorry, I just can’t tell if you’re upset or not, so I don’t know if I should even offer my condolences.”

“I’m, uh, I’m not upset,” he began. “I saw it coming.”

“How so?”

“Let’s just say this isn’t the first time a girl’s broken up with me for not being romantic enough,” he said. Thoughts were filling your head faster than you could make sense of them. There was no reason for the situation to annoy you as much as it did. You didn’t know this guy and the odds that you ever saw him again were slim.

“So, if it’s not the first time, why hasn’t anything changed?”

“Excuse me?” he asked. There was a crease between his eyebrows. He hadn’t been expecting you to respond like that. You shouldn’t have. It wasn’t your business

“I mean, you act like a martyr when you probably would be successful in love if you just put in the romantic effort these girls are craving,” you said. Your anger had begun to boil over and words were spilling from your mouth faster than you could stop them. “Guys like you are the worst. You lead girls on and make them think they’re special. Next thing they know, they’ve been wasting time on you and your lack of effort.”

The comment made Nate take a step away from you. His eyebrows drew together in shock and confusion. As you spoke, he turned his body to you and crossed his arms over his chest. The moment you closed your mouth, he interjected. “You don’t even know me.”

“I don’t have to,” you argued, turning to him. You were in a stand-off with a man several inches taller than you, and to any passerby it probably looked a little bit funny, but you weren’t backing down. “I know guys like you. I’ve dated guys like you.”

Before Nate could continue arguing, the Landeskogs pulled up to the curb. Mel hollered out for you two and the topic of conversation was dropped.

---

You regretted everything you said to Nate the moment you woke up the morning after. It wasn’t like you to be so rude, especially not to someone you didn’t know. Your heart stopped every time Mel texted you in the days following. You thought that at any moment she’d confront you about what you said to him, but it never came. As the week carried on, you found yourself forgetting the harsh words spoken outside the bar and the worry stopped.

Until Thursday night.

The knock at your apartment door was unexpected. You met your roommate, Mara’s, narrowed eyes over the dirty dishes you were working on. By the look on both your faces, neither one of you had a guest on the way over. She turned on her heel to check the peephole and the next look she gave you was equally as confusing as the previous one. She still opened the door.

“Does YN live here?”

The voice sent shockwaves through your veins and you stopped your movements, plates held just above your head as you were about to slide them into the cabinet. Nate MacKinnon was at your apartment. Mara nodded at him slowly before stepping back to let him in.

“Hi,” he greeted. His hands were tucked into his sweatshirt pocket, legs clad in compression leggings and a pair of shorts. He looked like he’d just come from a workout and his hair was still wet from the shower he’d taken before coming over. “I hope you don’t mind. Gabe gave me your address.”

“No problem,” you told him through a shaky breath. “Come in. Come sit at the island.”

He removed his shoes and approached slowly, sending Mara one last smile as she crept off down the hall. You silently cursed her for leaving you with your shaking hands as you cleared the clutter from the countertop. You watched him as he settled into the stool across from you, mirroring the kind smile he was sharing with you.

“Can I get you anything? Water? Coffee? I have food, too, if you’re hungry.”

“Don’t worry about me,” he said. His voice was softer now than it had been before. “I wanted to talk to you about the other night. It won’t take long.”

“Oh?” you asked, trying to ignore the way your stomach dropped. You wanted to start apologizing right then. You didn’t have a reason to go and butt into his personal life like you had. You should’ve kept your mouth shut. Guys like him didn’t care about your opinions. “I’m sorry for what I said. When I get drunk, I have the tendency to shoot off at the mouth.”

“Don’t apologize,” he said. Your mouth snapped shut. “No one keeps me in check. All the guys think the fact that I can’t keep a girlfriend is a big joke because I’m so bad at dating. It shouldn’t be a joke. So, I��m sorry and thank you.”

You dropped your hands to the counter and leaned against it. The last thing you expected was for Nate to thank you, so you needed a moment to gather your thoughts. His eyes glistened as he watched you and then the corner of his lip quirked up because you started giggling.

“You should not be thanking me,” you said. With that simple statement, the tension in the air lifted. You turned your back on him, indicating that if the conversation must go on, you were going to be doing the dishes as well. “I was just being bitter the other night.”

“You had every right to be,” he said. “I was gloating.”

“You were kind of gloating,” you mumbled. You hadn’t meant for Nate to hear, and he knew that, but he laughed anyway. You turned to face him with an apologetic smile. “Sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he said. He didn’t even know why you were apologizing at that point. It seemed like you’d apologize for taking up space and that made him feel a bit sad. He smiled politely at you anyway, to signal he wasn’t annoyed by the apologies, and it lit up his features in a way you hadn’t noticed the other night. “Anyway, I came here for a reason.”

“Okay.”

“I need you to teach me to be romantic.”

He delivered it tentatively, as though he was afraid of the way you might react. In the split second that followed, your mouth open and closed twice as every possible response came to your mind. He waited patiently.

Finally, “You don’t even know me. How can you be so sure that I’m the right person to teach you this stuff?”

“You’re a girl,” he explained, deadpan. “Girls know romance.” You snorted at how adorably dumb he was. Your hand flew up to cover your mouth in embarrassment and your cheeks burned as he grinned at you, amused by the sound of your laugh. “What do you say?”

---

Mondays were always your least favorite day of the week. Every weekend, your workload piled up and most Mondays you could hardly take a lunch break because you were so busy getting shit done. Whenever you came home from work on Mondays, you were wiped. Mara always made sure to have dinner ready for you when you got in, and the two of you often sat on the couch while eating those nights.

That Monday, you were sure that you’d be in bed before the Bachelor even started. But then Nate showed up unannounced. Mara was in the middle of washing the dishes this time, so you were the one to open the door. He greeted you with a goofy smile and a large electrical wire. Without a word, you stepped to the side and he was kicking off his shoes to enter the living room. Mara caught the roll of your eyes as you followed him.

He was standing beside the television when you entered the room. The wire he’d brought with him was connected to his cellphone while he found a port for the other end. You sat at the corner of sectional and waited, yawns escaping your mouth every minute or so. The day had been long enough already.

Suddenly, the television lit up with his cellphone background on full display. He held it up to show you, a grin present on his face.

“I need your help,” he began. He tapped one of the dating apps on his home screen and immediately you were regretting letting him in. You realized he wasn’t leaving any time soon as he unraveled the cord and plopped down beside you on the couch. Mara entered the room, eyes catching on the beautiful brunette woman on the screen, and then she gave Nate a curious look. “Come on, Mara. Join us.”

An amused smile came to her lips as she sat on the other end of the couch.

“I am not swiping for you,” you grunted, rubbing at your eyes. “I have no interest in judging girls off these apps.”

“Relax, YN,” he said. “I’m not asking you to play matchmaker. Just help me talk to this girl.”

“You need help talking to girls?” Mara asked as she gave him the once over. You laughed out loud while Nate blushed.

“I don’t need help,” he began. He turned his attention back to the television and pulled up the profile of a beautiful brunette woman. “I just don’t want to come on too strong, or douche-y. This girl is perfect and I wanna take her out.”

“Can you two make this quick?” Mara asked. “The Bachelor’s on tonight.”

“And my bed is calling my name.”

Nate peered at you over his shoulder. He smiled at your tired eyes, drooping as you leaned your head on your hand. He leaned back, stopping inches from your face and said, “I’ll make it quick.”

To your surprise, and Mara’s delight, he reached up and ran his hand over your hair before turning back to the television. He gave a rundown about the girl on the television, but his words went in one ear and out the other. Your glazed eyes watched as he typed out messages to her, and you laughed when Mara made fun of the way he was talking. (“Why the fuck are you talking like that? Are you her father?”) Finally, he turned on you.

“Are you gonna help or what, love doctor?”

“Give me the phone,” you said, extending your hand. He plopped it into your palm and watched you type out the message on the television screen. It took you less than a minute to type out a sweet message asking the girl out on a date before you were shoving the phone back into his hand. “You overthink too much.”

“That’s it?”

“Short and sweet,” you noted with a shrug. “I’d say yes.”

Nate’s eyes cut to you and you felt a chill run down your spine at the intensity behind them. Mara cleared her throat as you diverted your attention from him, shaking the feeling you got from his baby blues. She smiled sweetly at the two of you. “Can I detach your phone from our TV now? It’s almost time for Bach.”

You peeled yourself off the couch and headed to the bathroom to wash your face before changing into sweats and a t-shirt. You returned to the living room to find Nate with his feet up on the coffee table. Mara had tuned the television to ABC and the Bachelor recap was playing. He looked up as you entered and frowned.

“Stay out here a little bit longer,” he proposed, bottom lip jutting out in a pout. “We’ll watch some of this and see if she says yes to the date.”

“Nate, I’m exhausted.”

“C’mon.”

You couldn’t say no, not when he was pouting like that. So, you rolled your eyes and walked around the couch to plop down in the spot you’d been before. Before long, your eyes were closing and you couldn’t keep them open any longer.

Nate didn’t realize you fell asleep, but he didn’t mind when you leaned against his arm as a pillow. He stiffened for a moment, unsure of what to do, but a soft snore escaped your lips and he found himself smiling down at your peaceful face. He didn’t move for the rest of the episode because he was too nervous to wake you. When the credits began to roll, he dropped a hand to your knee and shook you lightly.

Your eyes opened, bleary from sleep, and you found that you’d fallen asleep on him. You jerked away, realizing that it was probably too close for comfort, and smiled apologetically. He returned the smile before standing and gathering his things from the coffee table.

“Get some sleep,” he said on his way to the front door. You hummed in response, following him to the door to say a proper goodbye and lock up. He pulled you into a hug before going, shocking you once again by with how gentle he was despite hardly knowing you.

“Did she say yes?” you asked as he pulled away from the hug. “I almost forgot to ask.”

“Yeah, she did.”

---

Lesson #1: The First Date

In the chaos of the week that followed, you’d almost forgotten that you promised Nate your assistance before the date. You weren’t used to being accountable for someone else like you were now, so it wasn’t surprising.

“There is a man at reception asking for you.”

The office receptionist, Debby, was standing in the doorway with a giddy smile on her lips. You knew immediately from the look in her eye that the man at the front desk was going to be the talk of the office for a week.

You stood, following her out the door of your office and down the hall. As you rounded the corner to reception, you saw Nate leaning against the desk. He was sucking on a mint from the bowl in front of him and smiled wide when he saw you.

“What are you doing here?”

“I have my date tonight, remember?” he asked. One glance at your watch told you that you worked a little too late. You cursed under your breath, turning quickly to head back to the office and send one last email. Nate hesitated, but ultimately decided to follow you down the hallway. He eyed the pencil skirt you were wearing, eyes lingering a little too long on your ass. He shook his head from his trance, knowing damn well that he was just asking for trouble.

Nate lingered in the doorway of your office for a moment before his eyes landed on a picture frame across the room that caught his attention. It was a marble frame without a photo like it had been removed and never replaced. He picked the frame up and turned it over in his hands, then turned to you.

“You need a picture.”

“What?” you asked, eyes still trained on the screen. They flickered up to see what he was talking about and then got right back to work. “Used to be a picture of me and my ex. Nobody’s important enough to put in.”

Nate placed the frame down. He felt a pang of sadness for you in that moment, but distracted himself by moving onto the next shelf and playing with some of the desk games on it. He was in the middle of fiddling with your Rubiks cube when you stood from the computer.

“You’re wearing that?” you asked. Nate winced at the question, glancing down at the jeans and t-shirt he was wearing. When he looked back up, you were wearing a shit eating grin. “I’m fucking with you.”

“Jesus, YN.” He clutched his heart and released a deep breath. You rounded the desk and grabbed your jacket from the hook. As you swung it over your shoulders, Nate stepped up to help. You slipped your arms through the arm holes trying to suppress the flair up of butterflies in your stomach.

When you reached the sidewalk outside the building, you led him down the block to a florist. Their window displays were your favorite in the city and you often found yourself going out of the way to peak at them on shitty days. You daydreamed about the day someone bought you a bouquet from there specifically.

The bell above the door rang as you stepped in. The smell of fresh flowers hit your nose and you sniffed it in happily. You grinned back at Nate and he felt a tug at his heart at your excitement.

“Can I help you?”

You bounded over to the woman behind the counter, Nate following behind you a little awkwardly. You gave him an expectant look and then his brain finally caught up with the question. As he leaned forward to look at the flowers in the case in front of you, his hand pressed against the small of your back.

“What would you get?” he asked curiously. You took a sharp intake of breath at the lack of space between you and pulled away to look at the flowers.

“Sunflowers and baby’s breath are my favorites.”

Nate smiled at the woman behind the counter and repeated what you’d just said, adding, “It’s for a first date, so I don’t need it too big or anything.”

You laughed at his explanation, and then the blush that come to his cheeks when he realized how silly he sounded. Neither of you noticed the confused look on the florist’s face. She was about to comment on how cute the two of you were, and in hindsight she was glad she kept her mouth shut. He reached out and squeezed your arm as a warning to stop teasing him. You stepped away completely, still smiling stupidly as he turned to pay.

“I’d’ve put roses in there too,” you told him once you were back on the sidewalk. “But this is only a first date. It might’ve been a little intense.”

“Roses?” he asked. You hummed in response, plucking the flowers out of his hand as you continued in the direction of the restaurant he was meeting his date at. “Good to know, you know, for the future.”

The walk to the date spot was only about ten minutes long and most of it was spent talking about your plans for the weekend as opposed to his date. He was going to be away with the team and you had plans to visit family. You kept thinking to yourself that you needed to stop getting distracted by him and his good looks and his sweet disposition. He was dating someone, and that person was not and would not be you, but he kept surprising you with the way he weaseled himself into your life.

“We’ll have to hang out next week sometime, then,” he said, snatching the flowers back out of your hand playfully. You nodded, but you were taken by surprise. It didn’t make sense that he’d want to hang around you without getting something out of it, whether it was dating advice or something more. Clearly, Nate didn’t care and you were beginning to wonder if maybe you’d get a beautiful friendship out of this nonsense.

“Any last-minute advice?”

“Don’t say anything dumb,” you said to him, emboldened by the realization that you might actually be friends now. Nate laughed out loud. “You think I’m just being funny, but sometimes you say stupid shit.”

“Jeeze,” he muttered. “Way to fuck up my self-esteem right before a date.”

“Oh, please.” You rolled your eyes and came to a stop just before the crosswalk he’d be using. He slowed to a stop as well, the bouquet of flowers falling to his side as he looked down at you. You reached out to right them with an amused smile. “Careful with these.”

“Got it, boss.”

You stalled a moment more, gazing at the flowers. You almost felt jealous of the girl going to dinner with Nate because those flowers would look perfect in a vase on your dining room table. “God, I really hope she appreciates those.”

The tone of your voice took Nate by surprise. It sounded a little sad, and full of yearning, and he felt kind of bad that he’d be walking away with the flowers you’d been admiring the entire walk from the florist. Even so, you said your goodbyes and he watched you turn on your heel to head home. He felt stuck in place, eyes trained on your retreating frame while his feet were cemented to the sidewalk. Before he could second guess himself, and his motives, he called out your name.

“Wait, YN!” When you turned, he was halfway down the sidewalk to you and, once he was within arm’s length, he plucked a sunflower from the bouquet and extended it. “For you.” Your cheeks felt red hot as your fingers curled around the stem. You hoped he couldn’t notice a blush. If he did, he didn’t make it known and left with a simple, “I’ll talk to you later.”

A stupid smile sat on your lips the entire way home. You felt the thumping of your heart long after you’d entered your place and placed the flower in the dining table vase. No matter what you found yourself doing that night, Nate remained at the back of your mind. You swore to yourself that it was because you wondered how his date was going, nothing more. But, when your eyes kept finding their way to the sunflower on the dining room table, you worried that maybe the reason you couldn’t stop thinking about him was something more.

---

You grabbed dinner with Mel the next Tuesday. Because of your trip to visit family, the two of you agreed to take a week off and reschedule some sort of get together for Tuesday. Gabe was home so he’d be with Linnea, and you were just happy that it wasn’t Monday. She was in the middle of a story when your phone lit up beside you; Nate’s name was on full display.

When’s our next lesson?

You snatched the phone off the table and away from Mel’s prying eyes, hoping that it wouldn’t peak her curiosity. The movement itself was enough to stir her, though, and Mel was soon leaning forward to see what was going on. She reached out and pushed the phone down, craning her neck to read the text.

“Next lesson?” she asked, eyebrow quirking. “Who is this?”

“It’s Nate MacKinnon.”

You said it so quickly and so nonchalant that Mel actually continued picking at her brunch before she reacted. Her fork clattered to the plate. “Did you just say Nate MacKinnon?”

“This,” you began gesturing at her wild eyes and wicked smile, “is exactly why I didn’t tell you.”

“Why?” she asked, feigning innocence. “Because I’m totally going to take this and run with it?” You dropped your face in your hands. “You should go for it. He’s a little dumb, but mostly cute. You definitely have the patience to deal with him though.”

“Mel, it’s not like that at all,” you told her. “I’m helping him learn how to be more romantic.” Her eyebrows shot up to her hairline in shock. “I’m serious. You know just as well as I do that he’s bad dating. He asked for my help after we met. I have enough experience with douchebags to tell him what not to do.”

“You sure do,” Mel agreed. You laughed at her response and an easy smile spread across her face. “Maybe teaching him a thing or two about how to be romantic will remind you of what you deserve.”

You sighed, picking up the coffee in front of you to take a sip. Mel knew better than anyone, besides Mara, how shitty the guys in your life had been. She met your ex last year just before your break up and she hated him from the moment you introduced the two. He never deserved you and her heart broke the longer you spent wasting your time on him. When you finally ended it, she was your biggest supporter.

You left the message unanswered, not wanting to give her anymore ammo in what was sure to be her new mission. When she got up to head to the bathroom before the check came, you opened the message from him. The last conversation was from Saturday night and he was letting you know that the girl he’d gone out with was looking forward to their next date.

What do you need help with now?

Do you know how to cook?

---

Lesson #2: A Homemade Meal

“I can’t believe you don’t know how to cook,” you grunted as soon as Nate pulled his apartment door open on Friday night. The grin on his face was anything but apologetic and you pushed past him with two large grocery bags in hand. You brought them to the kitchen and began unpacking them onto the counter.

“I do know how to cook, by the way,” he said, stepping up beside you to help you remove everything from the bags. You eyed him skeptically. “Mostly just the basic meats and vegetables.”

“You can’t cook a date your pregame meal.”

Nate knew that. He wasn’t that stupid, but he did love saying stupid shit around you. You tended to roll your eyes at him, but your lips always gave away how you really felt about his stupidity. The right side always curled up into a smirk, like you were trying to fight the laughter bubbling in your chest. He loved it when you did that.

“Is this, like, a meal your ex used to make?” he asked after grabbing some spices from the cabinet. You were grateful that his back was turned because the easy smile on your lips disappeared at the reminder of him. You busied yourself with the pot of water on the stove and set it to boil.

“No, my ex never actually made dinner for me,” you answered in a poor attempt to keep your voice steady.

Nate stopped prepping the meat and turned to face you. Questions sat on the tip of his tongue, begging for him to ask, but you wouldn’t look at him. He felt a little bit angry at your confession, though he couldn’t quite place why. Admittedly, he had been that boyfriend before – the one that didn’t cook dinner. Now, he was mad at himself for ever being that guy.

When you didn’t turn to look at him, he dropped the subject. You worked in silence, you busy with the pasta and him with the chicken. As you waited for the food to be ready, you hiked yourself up onto the counter. Nate grabbed a bottle of red wine from the end of the counter and poured glasses for the both of you.

He stood across from you with a dish towel over his shoulder and his own glass of wine in his palm. He asked about work and you filled him in on all the hot office gossip. The smile on his face didn’t fall once as he listened to your stories, and he never tried to change the subject or take over the conversation for himself. After a while, you stopped.

“I’ve been talking forever.”

“Yeah, and I’ve been enjoying it,” he told you. You laughed. “I wish I could be a fly on the wall in your office.”

Feeling a bit bolder, you kicked your foot out and nudged his side. “Maybe I can take you to bring your pet to work day.”

Nate’s jaw dropped, a reaction you weren’t expecting, and you began laughing hysterically at his surprise. He placed his wine glass down beside him and took a step closer, wrapping a hand around your ankle to tug you closer to the edge of the counter. You yelped in surprise.

“Pet?” he asked. You wiggled your foot out of his grasp, giggles falling from your lips as he dropped his hand to his side. The oven started beeping, interrupting whatever moment you were having before it could continue. “Saved by the bell.”

“Looks good, Nate,” you praised as he pulled it out of the oven. “My mouth is watering.”

“Go sit down,” he ordered. “You have to evaluate my presentation and make sure I look good.”

Nate entered shortly after you sat down and placed the plates on either side of the table with a smile. He slipped back out and returned with the wine. There was mischievous glint in his eyes as he topped your glass off and added to his.

“How is it?” he asked, leaning back. A look of cockiness flashed over his features and you felt it in your stomach when you looked at the way his arms were crossed and his biceps filled out the sleeves of his t-shirt. You picked up your utensils and cut into the meal, picking up a bit of each piece before putting it in your mouth.

Nate leaned forward eagerly. He watched your eyes light up when the flavor hit your tongue and he let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. You nodded emphatically as you swallowed your first forkful. He cut into his own meal and the moment he took a bite, he moaned. The meal was so good that conversation was sparse and, by the end, it looked like your plates had been licked clean.

You didn’t stop Nate from filling your glasses again, though you figured you should have. The third glass always lowered your inhibitions.

“How pissed off would you be if I asked you about your ex?”

“Not pissed off,” you answered. You took a sip of the wine, then leaned your cheek in your palm as you spoke. “What do you want to know?”

Nate sat up at this, suddenly realizing that he hadn’t prepared himself with a question because he didn’t think you’d give him the go ahead. He let out a tuft of breath, took a sip from his glass, and thought. Finally, he asked, “Why’d you break up?”

“How long do you have?”

“As long as you need,” he answered. His voice was soft, comforting, and you felt yourself relax into the question.

“Honestly, I didn’t want to break up with him,” you began. “And, if I didn’t have friends like Mel and Mara, I might still be with him. Things have changed now, though. I realize what a crap human being he was but, if I stayed with him, I don’t think I would’ve realized how much better I deserved.”

“Did you fight a lot?”

“Do I seem like the fighting type?” you teased. He shook his head. “He did enough fighting for the both of us. He would yell at me for no reason sometimes, just because he felt like it.”

Nate was angry. His features were contorted in distaste as you told him about your ex. Even though you tried to make light of the situation with a few light-hearted jokes, Nate couldn’t find it within in him to react with laughter. You deserved so much better than what you’d been given.

“When I broke up with him, Mara was there. We packed my things and moved it all out. I was going to leave a note, but he came home from work early and caused a scene. He went out the night after and sent me all these videos and pictures of him out with his friends. They were flipping me off, girls were draped all over him, etcetera. I blocked him the next morning and I haven’t seen him since. That was over a year ago.”

“Fuck,” he muttered, dropping his head in his hands. He felt ashamed. “That’s why you yelled at me.”

“Yep,” you answered. “Emotions got the best of me.”

“I don’t blame you.”

Silence filled the room and you felt vulnerable. You didn’t share the story about your tumultuous relationship often, but with Nate it just slipped out. You grabbed your glass from the table and finished it off.

“I’m not staying for another,” you announced. Nate sat back, his face flashing with an offended expression. As you gathered the plates from the table, you tried to ignore the knots in your stomach that were becoming more and more prevalent when he was around. “Nothing good ever happens after the third glass. But, if I was your real date, I would definitely stay for a fourth and you would probably get to kiss me at the end of the night simply for how good that meal was.”

The words fell from your lips so easily that it shocked you and you hoped that the playful tone of your voice wouldn’t scare him off. You gathered yourself before turning back to look at him. He was still sitting at the table, chair pushed back with one arm over the back of it. The way he was looking at you was lethal, eyes drinking you in as you stood in his kitchen. You couldn’t tell if you were imagining the tension or it was real.

“Thank you for dinner,” you said finally. You grabbed your bag from the counter and pulled it over your shoulder as you headed for the door. Nate stood then to walk you out, pulling the door open as you slipped into your sneakers. “It was delicious.”

“Thank you for teaching me how to cook something actually good,” he said. “Poor girl would’ve been eating chicken and vegetables or pasta if you hadn’t come by.”

“Can’t let that happen, can we?” you asked. “Let me know how dinner goes.”

Nate leaned down, wrapping an arm around your waist to tug you into a warm embrace. You melted into his arms as yours came up and around his neck. For a moment, the two of you just stood there in each other’s arms. You wondered if he could feel the beat of your chest again him. It sped up as his hands flattened against your back, crossing over each other to engulf you completely.

“I’m not that kind of guy,” he said. He leaned his cheek on the top of your head and his chest rumbled beneath your own cheek as he spoke. “You know that, right?”

Your blinked away tears before he couldn’t notice then and nodded in response to his question.

When he pulled back, he leaned in to press a kiss to your cheek and his lips caught the corner of your mouth. An electric shock coursed through your bloodstream and you pulled back quick before offering one last smile and tossing a goodbye over your shoulder.

---

Nate called you the next Friday night with plans for Saturday.

“Mel and Gabe invited a bunch of the guys over and she told me I should see what you were doing tomorrow.” he said. “I feel like I haven’t talked to you much since last week. The guys would love to meet you.”

“Meet me?” you asked. “So, it’ll be more than just the ones I know?”

“A few more,” he answered with a laugh. “They’ll love you, okay? I’ll be at your place to get you at 5:30.”

It was the first time you were going to see him since you made dinner together last Friday. You exchanged a few texts throughout the week, but nothing of substance. You knew his dinner date went well, though you didn’t know to what extent. You found yourself wondering if she stayed for that additional glass of wine after dinner, or if she stayed for the night after.

He showed up to your apartment wearing a white dress shirt, sleeves rolled to his elbows. You welcomed him in while you went back to your room to get your heels on. He gaped at the dress you were wearing as soon as you had your back to him. His eyes wandered over your curves as you bent to grab your heels from the floor in your bedroom. When your dress slid up your thighs, he had to force himself to look away.

You tried to get more details about his dinner date out of him on the way to Mel’s, but he kept quiet. She liked dinner, she stayed for an extra glass of wine, and then she went home at the end of the night. An invisible weight lifted from your shoulders upon hearing she didn’t stay the night and you settled back into his passenger seat.

Nate noticed the way you relaxed into the seat and tore his eyes from the road for just a moment to sneak a peek at you. You were watching the world go by from the window, unaware that he was even looking at you. When he turned his attention back to the road, all he could think about was his sweaty palms and accelerated heartrate. Why did he care so much about what you thought?

Everyone was already at the house when you pulled up. The two of you walked up the driveway, his hand against your lower back much like it had been in the florist. Mel opened the door, lunging to sweep you into her arms and whisk you to the kitchen, her husband and your, well, Nate left behind.

“Thanks for having me, Mel.”

She handed you a drink complete with a salted rim and said, “I’m glad Nate asked if you could come.”

“Nate asked?” you repeated. She affirmed with a nod and ushered you to join the others in the living room while she and Gabe finished dinner.

You swore half the team was there, which meant not one seat was open on their couch. As you passed Nate, he grabbed your hand and sat you on the arm of his chair. He pulled your legs over his lap and began introducing you to the boys you didn’t already know.

You caught Cale’s eyes and felt heat rise to your cheeks. Out of everyone in the room, he was the only one making note of the lack of space between you two. Though you weren’t technically sitting in his lap, it still felt a little inappropriate. Nate’s hand was like fire where it rested against your thigh and you had to remind yourself to stop peeking at the placement.

Nate lied about your invitation to dinner, and for what? He could’ve just invited you himself instead of disguising it as a joint decision between him and Mel. What was he so afraid of that he couldn’t man up and admit he wanted you there? Better yet, why didn’t he ask Gianna?

You somehow ended up seated away from Nate at the dinner table. Cale settled in on one side of you and EJ occupied the other. Across from you sat JT and Tyson, bickering as always. You don’t know how you ended up separated from Nate, but you welcomed it because you needed the breathing room.

The meal was delicious, but Nate couldn’t even enjoy it because you were so far away. He was going to get fucking whiplash because of the way he kept looking back to see who you were talking to or hear what you were laughing at. How did he even end up this far down from you?

On the other hand, he couldn’t stop the smile that kept creeping up to his lips when he saw you with his teammates. They loved you, probably almost as much as he did, and he was proud to have you by his side that night. But then came the harsh reality that you weren’t actually his to show off.

When the party relocated, he made sure to slide up next to you on the way to the couch. EJ’s laughter mocked him, but you didn’t catch on to his teammate’s playful ribbing. With Gabe and Mel’s eyes in the room, he didn’t pull you over his lap and opted to lower his arm over the back of the couch instead. There were just inches between your skin and his but, after having you on his lap earlier, it felt like miles.

Drinking games were played, stories were shared, and you all left the house with full bellies and large smiles. Nate was driving, so he eased up on the drinks after dinner. You, on the other hand, were feeling just as free as you did after three glasses of wine at his place last week, and feeling daring enough to ask him the question that’s been on your mind all night.

“Why did you tell me that Mel asked you to invite me?”

“What are you talking about?”

“When you invited me, you said that Mel told you to,” you explained in a slow voice as if you were breaking the situation down to a child. “But she said that you asked if you could invite me.”

“Why does it matter where the invite actually came from?” he asked. A slight panic was rising in his chest because he didn’t have an answer for you. This wasn’t supposed to come back around to you. “Everybody wanted you here anyway.”

“Why didn’t you ask Gianna?” you asked, stepping down to join him on the path to the driveway. He rolled his eyes at this, and you noted it because though you’d done it to him many times, he’d never done it to you. He began walking, so you followed. “Are you going to answer my question?”

“Because I didn’t want to introduce her to everyone yet,” he answered. “You just fit in with us.”

Nate saw your face fall and decided not to push the conversation any farther. He said something wrong, but he didn’t know what. As far as he thought, he was complimenting you. He was complimenting how easy going you were, how his friends got along with you so easily. You were already a part of the group. It was great.

You continued along to the car in silence, not bothering to argue with him over a dumb comment. He wanted friends, so you were giving him friends, but the touches and the invite to team dinner was something more than friends. You needed distance. And he needed to figure his shit out, fast.

---

Lesson #3: Meeting the Friends

Something changed. When Nate dropped you off that night, he left you with a half-assed hug and a quiet goodbye. You couldn’t catch a wink of sleep that night because something changed. But then, Nate texted you tomorrow and tried to carry on as normal. Things weren’t normal.

And you knew that for sure when Nate didn’t invite you to EJ’s house the next weekend. Mel invited you instead and since you could never say no to Mel, you went. The thought of texting Nate to let him know passed briefly through your head, but the sheer fact that he hadn’t even bothered to talk to you about it in the first place was enough to decide against it.

When you entered EJ’s living room, you knew exactly why he hadn’t asked. Gianna was sitting on his lap, fingers curling through his hair as they talked. Anger rose in you no matter how hard you tried to suppress it. Just last week he said he didn’t want to bring her around and now she was here? Now she was here and he couldn’t even talk to you?

There was an uproar as Nate’s teammates noticed you standing in the doorway and Nate’s eyes cut to you in surprise. You lifted your hand in a pathetic wave before Cale was wrapping his arm around your shoulders and leading you to the kitchen.

“Who’s the girl with Nate?”

“His new girlfriend,” you answered, hoping that you didn’t sound bitter. “I don’t even know if that’s the right title for her, but they’ve been on a few dates.”

Cale let out a soft hum, his tone indecipherable, just as Tyson entered the room.

“What’s the deal with Nate’s new girl?” he asked as soon as he saw it was just you and Cale in the room. When you didn’t answer, he nudged you for an answer.

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Well, she’s no you.”

---

Nate couldn’t help but ask himself, “What the fuck are you doing?”

As you were pulled into his teammates arms, he watched and couldn’t decide whether he wanted to get up and hug you too or if he just wanted to disappear. When Gianna’s fingers gripped his bicep, he decided he wanted the latter.

That’s when you looked at him, of course, and the smile that was on yours lips faded just a bit. At least, that’s what he thought. You lifted your hand in a wave before Cale was looping his arm around your shoulders and directing you towards the kitchen.

“Who was that?” Gianna asked, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of his neck.

He looked up at her with a simple answer. “One of our friends.”

Gianna kissed him and for the first time since he met you, Nate thought about what it would be like to kiss you instead. He brought her to EJ’s in a pathetic attempt to right the way he was feeling about you, but it only made it worse.

---

“Nate was weird last night,” Mel murmured after Cycle the next morning. You were waiting for her to say something. Since all the guys made comments the night before, you knew Mel was next. “Did you guys fight?”

“Fight? Me and Nate?” you repeated, stalling for time. “We didn’t fight.”

“What did you think of his girlfriend?”

“I actually didn’t get to talk to her,” you answered. You shrugged, giving the illusion that you didn’t care all that much even though you were fuming. After all the help you’d given him, he couldn’t be bothered to introduce you to her? And that wasn’t all. He hardly spoke to you all night, only entertaining conversations with you when someone else was around. You ended up spending most of the night with EJ.

“My sitter just bailed for tomorrow.” She’d been tapping away at her phone for a few minutes, no doubt panicking to Gabe. You watched her a moment longer as you wondered what her plans were for the next day. Then, it occurred to you.

“There’s a game tomorrow, right?” you asked. She nodded, still typing out messages to whoever was on the other end of the phone. “I can watch Linnea tomorrow. Don’t worry about finding a sitter.”

“I couldn’t ask you to do that.” She waved you off absentmindedly and continued talking, “Besides, I thought Nate had a ticket for you or something. Didn’t he ask you to go?”

“Tomorrow?” you said incredulously. “No, absolutely not. Isn’t it like a WAG game? It would make no sense for me to be there.”

“Oh,” she murmured. “I just thought that he told Gabe,” she paused and noticed your set jaw. You were clearly not Nate’s biggest fan at the moment, so she decided to tread carefully. “You know what? Nevermind. I would love it if you could watch Linnea.”

---

As expected, Linnea was an angel the next day. You spent the time lounging in their living room with the game on TV while you played together. She took a bottle in the middle of the game and you brought her to her nursery once she’d been burped to rock her to sleep. But, you couldn’t quite peel yourself from the chair to put her in her crib. She was sleeping so peacefully and for the first time in a while you felt calm, so you stayed with her in your arms long after she’d fallen asleep.

You didn’t know what time it was when Gabe and Mel got home, but you heard their car doors close. You waited for them to happen upon you in the nursery, so you were surprised when it was Nate that knocked at the door.

“Hi,” he whispered, stepping into the room. He studied the decorations as he approached the rocking chair you were sitting in. When he stepped up beside you and admired Linnea, you tried not to look up at him. You knew it wouldn’t help the butterflies in your stomach, but you did it anyway. He was smiling down at the peanut in your arms. “Mel and Gabe are in the kitchen. They saw you on the baby monitor and told me to come get you.”

“Okay, I’ll put her down and meet you in there.”

“I can wait for you,” he said, stepping away. You stood, cradling Linnea to the crib and then craning to put her down in the center. Nate was watching you intently from the doorway with an unreadable expression on his face.

He stepped out into the hallway first, but he wasn’t walking towards the kitchen. He stood, waiting for you to stepped out into the hallway and look at him. You gave him a half-assed smile, still feeling a little hurt that things had been so weird between you two, and he asked, “Are we okay?”

“We’re fine,” you answered. He wasn’t convinced, but you reached up and shoved him lightly to get him to move down the hall. He didn’t budge, hand coming up to grasp yours against his chest. The beating of his heart sat right at your fingertips. “How was your game?”

“It was good,” he answered. “I wish you were there.”

“Well, then, you should’ve asked me to come,” you said, quite boldly. His lips parted, but whether it was to speak or not you wouldn’t know because you were continuing down the hallway without him.

You slipped into the kitchen to find Mel, leaving the men on the couch in the living room. The moment you stepped in, she was turning to greet you with a smile. You hissed, “Are you behind this?”

“I mentioned you were babysitting, his eyes lit up, and Gabe was the one to invite him over.”

“Team effort?”

She feigned an apologetic smile before ushering you out to rejoin the boys. Gabe got the fire going and Mel curled in his chest once he settled back on the couch. You sat on the other end, legs extended towards Nate in the corner. You felt his eyes whenever there was a suspended silence. You knew he was thinking about you, and selfishly you relished in the attention.

“YN, did you know that Nate’s parents were visiting next weekend?” Gabe asked during a lull in conversation. Nate glared at him, but the Swede happily ignored his buddy at the center of the couch. His eyes cut to you.

“I didn’t,” you answered. “But that’ll be fun. I know how much you missed them.”

All he could offer was a stupid ‘yeah’ before Mel swooped in to save the entire group from a very awkward moment.

Nate was going to kill Gabe. He was going to kill Gabe, but first he had to make a decision. He knew exactly what he had to do. It felt like you were a thousand miles away, not only physically but emotionally. Gabe should’ve kept his mouth shut. He was going to have you meet his parents, he just hadn’t gotten the chance to ask. Now, he looked like a dick. You couldn’t even look him in the eye.

“I was going to tell you about my parents,” he said, practically chasing you down the driveway after you ducked out while he was in the bathroom. To his surprise, you stopped walking and waited for him to catch up. “Seriously.”

“It’s getting hard to believe that, Nate,” you said. “I don’t know what’s going on in your head.”

Nate felt his heart sink. He began to rack his brain for a way to salvage the conversation, but it was too late by the time you reached your car. You stopped before opening the door to look up at him.

“You’re thinking too much.”

“I just—I know you’re upset with me,” he began. “I want to make it better. We haven’t really talked since EJ’s, and that’s on me.”

“Were you going to invite me today?” you asked. He gave you a curious look. “To the game. Mel mentioned something about it at Cycle. That you told Gabe you were thinking about giving your ticket to me.”

Nate ran his hand over his face. The Landeskogs had really gotten him into some trouble here, and he wasn’t sure it was accidental.

“You’re the one I wanted at the game,” he admitted. “I wanted to invite you, but I knew how bad it would look if I didn’t ask Gianna.”

“So, you invited her,” you concluded.

“No.”

You looked at him in shock, mouth agape, and asked, “You’d rather no one go than give the ticket to her?”

“Well, when you put it that way,” he grumbled. You threw your arms up in surrender, hoping the words would sink in. “I don’t know, YN.”

“Yes, you do,” you argued. He kept his mouth shut at that, knowing you had enough. You sighed heavily, allowing the conversation to roll off your back. “When are your parents going to be here?”

“Saturday morning.”

“What are you planning to do?”

“They’ll be at my game in the afternoon and then I was getting us a reservation for dinner,” he trailed off only momentarily. “I haven’t made it yet because I was going to invite you, but Gabe beat me to the punch in there.”

“What about Gianna?”

“YN, if I didn’t want her at my game, why would I want her to meet my parents?” he asked. He made it sound like you were asking the stupidest question in the world. But, he wasn’t answering the most important one. Was he breaking up with her? You wanted to ask, but part of you didn’t want the disappointment. He worried while you thought.

“I’m around on Saturday,” you answered. He smiled, and you forced one back. You hated the feeling between you two. The air between you had never been so stuffy and you wanted to clear it. “Anything else you wanna tell me before the Landeskogs do? Is Sid actually your long-distance girlfriend?”

Nate laughed loudly as he stepped away. He answered your question cryptically, “No, nothing to tell you right now. Not yet.”

---

Lesson #4: Meeting the Family

You planned to meet Nate at his apartment before dinner since his parents had gone to the hotel upon arrival. On the way, you picked up a box of pastries from your favorite bakery. You were taught to do little things for important people, and anyone who was important to Nate felt important to you. You tried not to think about the implications of having dinner with his parents, but it was hard to shake the nerves.

“What’s this?” he asked as soon as he opened the door. His finger slid over the logo on the top of the pastry box, eyes catching on the word bakery. When he looked up at you, his eyes were shining. “For me?”

“For your family,” you told him. “Don’t get any ideas.”

“I thought maybe you heard about my break up and you were trying to comfort me,” he said like it wasn’t breaking news. “I’ll put these in the kitchen.”

“You broke up?” you asked, following him to the kitchen. You stopped in the doorway as he put the pastries on the counter. He nodded simply as he cleared some clutter from the countertop. You could see his muscles moving beneath his navy polo. Guiltily, you couldn’t stop yourself from admiring the way the sleeves hugged his biceps or the wide expanse of his back and shoulders. “What happened, Nate?”

“We can talk about it later, alright?”

“Are you single or not?” you asked. Nate caught the frustration in your tone and he’d be lying if it didn’t make him want to kiss you right then. You needed to know what was going on with him, and that made him feel good about whatever was going on between you two.

Nate started to exit the kitchen, but stopped in the doorway beside you. You were crowded against his chest as he smiled down at you and answered, “Yeah, I’m single.”

You released a breath once he stepped out of the doorway. He slipped his shoes on while you stood nearly the front door. He caught the look on your face, a little scrunched up as you spaced out. You were thinking too much, worrying about what happened with him and Gianna. When he walked back over to the front door, he took you by the hips and said, “We can talk about it later, if you want. Right now, I just want to be with you and my family.”

---

“I’m nervous,” you admitted as Nate pulled up to valet outside the restaurant. He looked at you in shock. “Don’t make fun of me.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you,” he promised. He reached over and dropped his hand to your thigh. You pouted at him, and his first instinct was to lean over the center console and kiss it off your lips. He knew better than to risk it all just before dinner, so he grabbed your hand and dropped a kiss to your palm instead. “You’ll be fine. No need to be nervous.”

A heavy sigh left your lips as he stepped out of the car. He rounded the front and opened the passenger door for you, grabbing your hand as you stepped out. After he handed his key to the valet, he laced his hands in yours and led you into the restaurant.

The MacKinnons were already at the table that had been reserved for them. There was uproar of cheers when they saw Nate walk in. You stole a peek at his face and the pure joy on it set your heart aflame. He dropped your hand as you approached the table to hug his parents and sister. They introduced themselves to you as well, sweeping you up in tight embraces like they had with Nate.

“It’s great to finally meet you,” they spoke as they hugged you.

Nate pulled your chair out from across his mother and then situated himself beside you. The menus were passed out and Nate whispered suggestions in your ear while his family members debated their own meals. She took the time to calm her nervous. Parents loved her, so there was no reason to freak out. Eventually the drinks were handed out, orders were taken, and the chaos at the table stopped.

“Now, how’d you two meet again?” his mom asked. You looked at each other, stupidly, both stammering in response until Nate got his shit together.

“We met through friends,” he answered simply. Then, his lips curled up and he said, “She yelled at me.” You dropped your face into your hands, embarrassed by the picture he was painting of you, but they took it in stride, laughing at your expression. “It wasn’t that bad.”

He continued, “As you guys know, I’ve been very unlucky in my personal life.” Sarah snorted at this. Their mother smacked her knee as a scolding. “I literally suck at being romantic and all the guys were joking around about it after I’d just been broken up with. YN called me out, so I asked her to teach me how to be romantic.”

“Well, what’d you learn?”

“How to cook a meal other than my pregame types, and I also have a new favorite florist,” he said. He reached into his back pocket for his wallet and flipped it open to slip out their business card. You didn’t realize he grabbed one. “There are some other things, like her wine rule.”

“Wine rule?”

“Nothing good ever happens after the third glass of wine,” you explained. They laughed at that, though they seemed bewildered by your reasoning.

Nate elaborated, “It just means that if your date stays for a fourth glass, you’ll probably get lucky.”

This earned him a smack on the arm from both his sister and yourself.

Nate’s family was just as kind as he was and it was clear how much they all adored each other. You fit in seamlessly, at least that’s how it felt, and when they asked the waitress to take a picture of them, Nate tugged you into his side to keep you in the frame.

“Take one without me,” you urged him. He just shook his head, gazing down at the picture on his phone. He passed it off to his parents and sister for approval. “Nate.”

“I want you in the picture,” he whispered to you. His hand came up to the back of your neck and he pulled you in to place a chaste kiss to your temple. He pulled away, like kissing you in public and on the forehead was normal now, and asked, “How was your food?”

When you got back to his place after dinner, you presented his mother with the pastries and earned a hug and kiss on the cheek as a thank you. They settled into the kitchen as he made drinks, chatting as a family about the people back home and his life in Denver. You slipped out to go to the bathroom, and give them some alone time.

“I like her,” you overheard his mother say as soon as you slipped out of the kitchen. You slowed your steps on your pursuit to the bathroom even though you knew it would be best to keep walking. You couldn’t help but be a little nosy.

“That’s good to hear,” Nate said. You smiled to yourself. “I like her, too.”

---

Nate’s family only stayed for another hour before you were bidding them farewell from his front door. They squeezed you and thanked you for the pastries, and then began inviting you to visit before Nate had to shut it down. Your heart felt full after spending the night with them, but sitting alone in Nate’s apartment in anticipation of what was to come was scaring the shit out of you.

Your hands were a little shaky and your palms were definitely sweaty. There was change coming, change that was already present, and you were both excited and terrified for it. Nate reentered the apartment not long after. When he saw you sitting on the couch, he released a breath he’d been holding.

“Are you going to stay for another glass?” he asked after locking the door behind him. “That one’s only your second.”

You eyed his smile, heart beat stuttering a bit beneath his gaze, and lifted the glass to your lips to finished what was left. You nodded and followed him into the kitchen. While he filled both your glass and his, you picked yourself up onto the counter like you’d done so many times before.

“I did a bad thing,” he murmured after handing your glass back to you. You raised a brow at him as he reached over to one of the cabinets and opened it to reveal two pastries in a Ziploc bag. “I stole two of them from my mom.”

“Nate!” you exclaimed. He chuckled at your exasperation. “I can bring you to that bakery whenever you want! Your parents don’t live here! It was a gift!”

“And they have the other eleven pastries,” he argued. “They’re not going to miss two.”

Reluctantly, but still with a smile, you took a pastry from his hand. You bit into it at the same time, eyes lighting up at the taste. At the sight of each other’s faces, you were doubled over in laughter before you had the chance to swallow what was in your mouth. You looked away from him to regain composure and only looked back when you were sure you wouldn’t choke.

“Those were fucking good.”

“Only the best for your mom.”

“Thank you,” he spoke. “For the pastries and for hanging out with my family today. I’m sure you had other things to do, but it meant a lot. They’ve been hearing a lot about you.”

“I had a lot of fun with them,” you said. His smile was soft, shy even, and he watched you carefully as you sipped from the glass in your hand. “It was nice to meet the people who made you who you are.”

“Wait until you meet Sid.”

You decided to move from the kitchen to the living room in favor of more comfortable seating. He reached his hand out behind his back, and you linked your fingers with his lazily so he could lead you to the couch. You slowed to a stop as he sat down, legs spread to pull you between them. Your hesitation caused a look of confusion to flash over his features.

“Can you tell me what’s going on inside your head now?” you asked, placing your glass down on the table beside the arm of the couch. He followed suit, then placed his hand delicately at your hip to urge you closer.

“Sure, I can,” he answered. He pulled you into his lap. You looped her arms around his shoulders as he flattened one hand against your back and curled the other around your thigh. “I don’t want to waste those romance rules on someone I don’t really like all that much.”

“You really didn’t like her?” you asked meekly. Of fucking course he didn’t like her, you were thinking. You were in his lap, not her, but you still couldn’t wrap your head around it. “Why?”

“The only reason I looked forward to going on dates with her was because I got to spend time with you before,” he confessed. You felt it all through your body. “I broke up with her the morning after we were at Gabe’s together. After you called me out on my bullshit, I knew I was being stupid.”

“Why me, though?”

“Because you deserve the world and I want to be the one to give it to you.”

It was only natural for you to lean in and capture his lips with yours. After all this time spent waiting and beating around the bush, you didn’t want to wait a second more. It was passionate, and new, and exciting. His hands held you close while your fingers curled into the back of his hair, but he wasn’t close enough.

You swung your leg over to straddle him, not caring that you were wearing a dress with just panties underneath. His hands flew to your hips as you grinded against him. You gasped against his lips at the friction as he held you tighter, teeth nipping at your bottom lip until you covered his mouth with yours again. He guided your hips to grind against him once more, but you braced your hands against his chest to push away.

“I’m not staying for a fourth glass,” you said breathlessly. He smiled up at you, eyes falling to your lips that were red and plump from kissing him. Kissing him! He leaned in, tongue swiping along his bottom lip, and pulled you down by the back of the neck.

He murmured through his kisses, “You didn’t even finish your third.”

At the challenge in his voice, you reached over for the glass on the side table and finished what was left. He held you close, laughing against the crook of your neck. You giggled along with him until you felt his lips against your skin again and a gasp fell from your lips.

“You gotta leave before I pour number four,” he warned, breath ghosting over your neck. He kissed your neck again, this time sucking lightly enough to earn a strangled moan. You pushed back against his chest and stood, flustered as you adjusted your dress and your hair. Nate couldn’t help but smile as he watched you cross the room for your purse. He grabbed a pillow and held it over his lap to hide his hard-on.

“What are you doing tomorrow?” he asked as you put your heels on the end of the couch. He was admiring your flushed cheeks and your wild hair as you busied yourself. You fastened the strap on each heel before looking back at him. It took everything in you to not go back over there and unbutton the rest of his shirt.

“Nothing,” you answered as you stood. He followed suit, adjusting his dress pants just a bit so he was comfortable and making you giggle in the process. He stepped up beside you and pulled you against him again. He placed one, two, three kisses against your neck then your jaw then your lips.

“Let me make you dinner.”

---

Nate wasn’t going to be able to keep his hands to himself. He knew that the second you walked out of your room in that little black dress, but he was really trying to be on his best behavior. It was technically only your first date and he wanted to impress you. You just weren’t helping very much. As soon as you were in his car, you were grabbing his hand and lacing it with yours to drop them into your lap.

He was a little nervous that he wasn’t going to be able to pull this off. He was sure that he’d fuck up somewhere and you’d go running. And, truthfully, you could tell that he was overthinking every little thing he did. The tension in his shoulders as he moved about the kitchen to prepare everything for dinner was clear.

“What’s wrong with you?” you asked.

He gave you the most pathetic shrug and shake of the head as he tried to wave off your concern with a soft, “Nothing.”

“That’s a lie,” you called him out. “You look stressed.”

“I mean, I am a little stressed,” he admitted, diverting his eyes from yours as he headed over to the fridge. “I don’t want to fuck this up.”

Before he knew it, you were standing between him and the refrigerator. You flattened your hands against his chest and slid them up until your hands were linked behind his neck. A slight tug on him was enough to get him to kiss you. He finally relaxed, arms dropping from the refrigerator door to grip your hips.

“You’re not going to fuck this up.”

“I don’t have a very good track record.”

“You do with me,” you said softly. He looked skeptical, not quite understanding what you meant, so you pressed against him as his arms enveloped you. “You gave me a sunflower the third time we were ever around each other. You’ve cooked me dinner already. Sure, it was under different circumstances, but it counts. Nate, you know exactly what you’re doing. Don’t overthink it.”

“Go sit,” he said, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You managed to calm his nerves better than anyone he’d ever known in a matter of seconds. “I’ll plate dinner and then I have to grab something for you, okay?”

Nate entered the dining room a minute later, placing both plates down across from each other before disappearing to grab wine glasses and another bottle of wine. Then, he was off down the hall to his bedroom. Your eyes followed him curiously, wondering what else he could possibly have up his sleeve. He’d already impressed you enough by cooking a meal you didn’t teach him.

“Oh, wow,” you breathed out when he appeared in the hallway with a bouquet of flowers. “Nate.”

“For you.”

You stood to take them from his hands and kiss him in thanks. When you pulled away, your fingers danced along the petals of the roses tucked between the sunflowers and baby’s breath Nate had grown to love too.

---

You filled your glass for a fourth time as inconspicuously as possible after your last bite of dinner, but Nate caught your eye over the bottle as you poured and you knew he knew what you were doing. He tried to stifle his smile unsuccessfully, picking up his own glass to cover it. One sip and his third glass was done.

“More?” you asked, extending the bottle in his direction.

“Four glasses?” he teased. “What do you take me for?”

“Okay, more for me then.”

Your voice was low, eyes dark as they settled on him, and suddenly he was lunging forward to grab the bottle and pour another glass for himself. Your giggles filled the room. He wanted them to echo off his walls forever.

“I want to take a picture with you,” he said. You gave him a curious look, though your stomach was doing cartwheels at the suggestion. “I keep thinking about your empty picture frame and I want you to have something to put in it.”

“We can take a selfie,” you suggested. He was quick to shake his head, pushing away from the table to take your hand and lead you to the patio. He pulled the phone from his back pocket and set it up against the couch. He removed the glass from your hand to place it out of view of the camera.

“Now, this is quite the set up,” you murmured as he moved furniture out of the way so there was ample space to take the photo. Denver’s city lights were sure to be the perfect backdrop and having Nate beside you wasn’t too bad either.

“Well, it has to be perfect if it’s going in your office.”

“How do you know I’ll even want to put it in the frame?” you asked. Nate pressed the timer and turned to walk back at you, smirk on his lips. You were teasing him, but you were playing innocent with those doe eyes. He curled around you, arms pulling your back against his chest to pose for the picture.

“After tonight, I’m sure you will,” he murmured in your ear. “Smile.”

The audacity of a man who tells you to smile after igniting your entire body in goosebumps.

The camera went off in a sequence, five pictures for the one timer. You smiled twice before he reached up to turn your face to his for a kiss. The sound of the shutter had you pulling away from his lips with a giggle. He smiled down at you for the next photo as laughter spilled from your lips, and then he was kissing you again.

When you finally pulled away from him, all giggly and handsy, Nate dragged you along with him to his phone. He curled around you as he flipped through the photos, each one cuter than the one before.

“Are you saying you wouldn’t put that in your office?” he asked. His breath tickled the back of your neck. You were just trying to tease him before, but with the lack of space between you and the way he was looking at you in these photos, you just couldn’t tease him anymore. His fingers trailed up your arms, goosebumps rising in their wake once again.

“How’s that fourth glass of wine treating you?” you asked. Nate tucked the phone in his back pocket as you turned to face him. His hands were on you once they were free, curling over the curve of your ass.

“I shouldn’t have let you talk me into it,” he murmured against your lips. “I’m trying to be good, but it’s impossible to keep my hands to myself.”

“What if I don’t want you to keep your hands to yourself?” you against, arching your body to press against him. You could feel him hard against your hip and knew you had him exactly where you wanted him. You pressed your lips to his and, as you pulled away, you took his bottom lip between your teeth and sucked on it.

A growl ripped through his chest as he lifted you into his arms. Your legs came to wrap around his waist as he carried you into the apartment and slammed the patio door shut behind him. He dropped you onto the bed, one hand coming to tug you towards the end by the ankle. His hands spread your legs so he could step between them and they slid up your thigh, pushing your dress up as they went.

“You don’t know how badly I’ve wanted to do this,” he murmured in your ear as his hands reached your hip, dress bunching around his wrists and revealing your lace panties to him. “Stealing touches in a crowded room just doesn’t compare.”

You lifted your arms as he guided the dress over your body and tossed it to the floor. At the sight of your match set, Nate pushed you up the bed and crawled over you. He peppered kisses along your skin from your collarbone to your chest. He worked his way down your stomach until reaching the top of your underwear. In on swift movement, your thong was on the floor and he was spreading your legs.

“So pretty,” he murmured, fingers spreading your folds. You moaned out as he slipped his finger in. “You like my fingers in your pussy, baby?” You could only manage to nod because he’d already slipped a second finger in. He curled them while he pressed a kiss against your inner thigh. “How about my tongue?”

Nate licked a stripe up your center and you gasped, hands flying down to curl into his hair as he continued to eat you out. He sucked on your pussy, continuing to thrust his fingers into and curl. He dragged moans out of you, obscene words dripped from your lips, and the filthy sound of his tongue filled the room.

“You taste so good.”

You tried to grind against face for some more friction, but he held your hips down and continued. You whined, tugging his hair and arching your back as he brought you to orgasm.

“Nate, I’m gonna cu—” you moaned, toes curling at the feet of his lips around you. Suddenly, cool air shocked your core and your orgasm retreated. You sighed as your whole body sank into the bed at the absence of stimulation. Nate crawled up your buddy, licking a stripe up your neck before attaching his lips to yours.

“Sorry, baby,” he said. He nudged your knees apart and situated himself between them, hand falling to his dick as he lined it up with your entrance. “I just need you to cum on my cock.” You moaned as he pushed his head between your folds. “YN, as long as you’re mine, I’ll never make you feel like you don’t deserve all the most romantic things.”

You answered with a moan as he bottomed out inside you. He watched your face as you adjusted to his size and smiled as you whimpered, pulling your teeth between your lips. You felt so good around him and as he began to pull out and thrust in again, your nails dug into his biceps.

You knew he was trying to take his time, but you could hardly take it. As far as you were concerned, Nate would have all the time in the world to take it slow with you. Tonight was not that night.

“Fuck me harder.”

When you sounded like that beneath him, how could he say no? His previously slow and calculated thrusts became sloppy at your request. He relished in the sound of your moaning and the way you called his name like a prayer. You were unraveling beneath him and he wanted to get you there. He adjusted your leg over his shoulder so he could hit a new angle.

“Come on, baby,” he moaned against your lips. “I wanna see you cum for me.”

He reached down and placed his thumb against your clit, rubbing in circles as he pumped into you. You screamed out and your body arched as your orgasm ripped through you. Nate pumped into you a few moments more as he chased his high while listening to your whimpers. He spilled out into his condom as a string of curses left his lips, then collapsed onto of you to catch his breath.

Your fingers immediately found his hair as your breathing evened out together. His body was hot on yours and a sheen of sweat covered both of you. Nate’s fingers curled around your waist and into your skin, squeezing you like he needed to get closer but couldn’t. Finally, he pulled out of you and sat back on his knees.

“You’re so beautiful,” he sighed, hands rubbing up your stomach to cup your breasts. You shivered at his touch. “I never want to leave this bed.”

“Not even for shower sex?”

“Okay, maybe for shower sex,” he murmured. He picked you up, tossing you over his shoulder to carry you to the bathroom.

---

A few hours (and orgasms later), you were clothed in Nate’s sweats and t-shirt and waiting for him beneath the covers in bed. He was cleaning up the glasses you left on the patio and running the dishwasher, though he was quick to finish it up and return to you. You looked so cute propped up against the headboard that he couldn’t stop smiling as he got ready for bed. He pulled on a pair of sweats, but remained topless as he slid under the covers. Instead of pulling you down to rest on his chest, he dropped his head onto your stomach and pulled you tightly to him. Your fingers carded through his hair.

“Thank you for tonight, Nate,” you spoke. “This was the best first date I’ve ever been on.”

“I’m counting this as our fourth date,” he responded. You laughed at him, slapping his bicep lightly at his teasing. “Let’s be honest, I was trying to impress you this entire time anyway.”

“Consider me impressed.”

Nate pulled you down to eye level with him, heads on your respective pillows, and then turned to shut the lamp off beside him. When he turned back, he pulled you against his chest. With your ear to his chest, you listened to his heartbeat and his breathing as it evened out. His fingers scratched your back ever-so-slightly as if soothing you to sleep.

“Are you happy?” he asked. You looked up at him with a curious gaze. Could he not tell how happy you were?

“Of course, I am,” you answered. “Are you?”

“How could I not be?” he asked. “You’re so far out of my league.”

“No, I’m not,” you groaned. You covered your blushing face with your hands at his words, hoping that he couldn’t feel the beat of your heart. Nate was quick to tug them down, holding them against his own chest. He didn’t care if you felt how hard his heart was beating. In fact, he wanted you to know. He wanted you to know the effect you had on him.

“You feel my heart, right?” he asked. You nodded. “You did that. You do that to me every single time I’m around you.” Your eyes began to water and you tried to pull your hand away from his to wipe the water pooling in the corner. Nate grabbed both your hands with one of his and wiped it with his own thumb. “I’ll never let you go to bed thinking I don’t love you. I’m going to shower you with flowers from our favorite florist and buy you pastries from that little shop you like, and I’ll never make you feel like you need to stifle yourself and who you are on account of me.”

“Nate.”

“Just listen to me, alright?” he asked, voice soft. You nodded. “Your ex stuffed you down and he didn’t appreciate you. That’ll never happen with me, and if you feel like it is, you need to tell me, just like you did when we first met.”

You tried to stammer through some type of coherent response, but words failed, so you kissed him. His arms wrapped around your waist to pull you flush against him and your legs intertwined. He was intoxicating, you couldn’t get enough, but he felt just the same. He wondered how anyone had let you go before and simultaneously thanked them for the gift that was you.

That night, Nate vowed he’d never let you go to bed unhappy and he’d never let you feel any less than perfect. He waited forever for a partner like you, honest and kind, and he finally had it in his hands, in his bed. And you promised that you’d never love anyone as much as you loved him. You just knew it.

#nate mackinnon imagine #nate mackinnon fic #nate mackinnon #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #nathan mackinnon imagine #nathan mackinnon fic

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supernatural-jackles · 5 years ago

Text

Owe You One - Part 1

Title: Owe You One - Here’s the Deal

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 6,290

Warnings: Bad Sex, Fluff, Playful Banter, Smut, Female and Male Receiving, Bit of a consent kink, 18+ only.

Summary: Dean Winchester has been your best friend and neighbour for the last year. A year of finding comfort in random drop ins and casual conversations, but neither of you know the pasts that the other has. Not fully. Pasts that come back to haunt you, and ruin everything you want in life. Can you find what you’re seeking in a couple of favours and a good time between the sheets or is history doomed to repeat itself?

Square Filled: Neighbors!AU for @spndeanbingo, Free Space for @spnkinkbingo

A/N: It’s finally here!! I’m very excited to take you on this rollercoaster ride! Please leave your thoughts in the reblogs and replies! Feedback always keeps me going! Happy Reading!

“Fuck! I’m gonna come!” he called out, bucking his hips up into yours. You rolled off of him, taking the empty side of the bed as ripped the condom off, stroking his hard length. He rolled over, getting onto his knees so he could finish himself off on your body.

The sticky liquid coated your stomach as he let out a loud grunt, still stroking his cock. One of his hands came down next to you, trying to balance himself as pleasure zapped through him. You lay there, trying not to utter a word about it. Did he really have to be that extra about it? Did he really have to rip the condom off and coat your skin in his - stuff?

“Damn, you are something else baby,” he let out a chuckle. “I mean really something. Did you come?”

“If you had to ask, then the answer is no,” you scoffed, rolling off the bed, completely unsatisfied. “Look, I’ve got things to do so you gotta go.”

“Sure thing, baby. Can I call you later?” he grinned, looking over to you.

“If you want to,” you said lowly, making your way into the bathroom. You heard movement on the other side of the door. It sounded like his jeans being put back on. You willed him to move faster. You wanted him out of your apartment. Nothing like shitty sex and a guy that lingered. You had no idea why you even tried with this one. He was as stupid as they came. Carl, or Keith? You couldn’t remember what his name was. You met him in a diner a few weeks back. He took you on one date, and fucked you the rest of the time. He wasn’t a good lay, and he was selfish as hell on top of that. There was nothing worse than that.

You heard the front door shut with a click, notifying you that it was safe to leave the bathroom when you were ready to. You felt dirty and not just from sex. His hands were on you and they definitely weren’t the cleanest. You headed over to the shower, turning it on hot. You wanted to wash the gunk feeling off, along with everything else he left. What a waste of your time you thought to yourself. Why were you wasting your time with every guy that came along?

You stepped under the stream, letting the water hit directly on your stomach. Washing away his finished product. You couldn’t believe that he had the nerve to ask you if you came. The man was lazy as hell, and didn’t know the difference between the clitoris and vagina. It was a complete and utter disappointment yet again. You had no idea why you kept him around when all he wanted was sex. He didn’t care whether or not you came, let alone about your life outside of the bedroom. There wasn’t a point in continuing when you weren’t happy with him.

The hot water lulled over you muscles, relaxing you along with the apple scent of your shampoo. You always felt better after a good shower. No matter what the day held, or what went down. A shower made you feel clean and reduced your worries. There was a part of you that wanted to let your hand wander between your legs, just to finish yourself off. You had done it so often that it was becoming boring. Like a sad routine. You needed something more to get you there. Maybe you needed a new toy to play with.

You shut the water off, stepping out of the shower and onto the grey carpeted mat. You reached for the blue towel on the counter, wrapping around your body before moving in front of the mirror. The mirror was fogged up, not that you needed it urgently. You felt a lot more refreshed.

You dried yourself off, pulling on your black robe to cover yourself up until you grabbed actual clothes from your bedroom. You stepped out of the bathroom for a second, waiting for the mirror to clear up. You knew you had to get something out to cook for dinner before it got too late. It was already late enough.

Your kitchen smelled of the apple cinnamon scentsy you had plugged in. It was supposed to help you get in the holiday spirit. At least, that was the point of why you put it in your cart when you saw it. It mostly made your apartment smell good. You walked over to the fridge, looking to see the chicken you had picked up at the grocery store the day before. You had some leftover salad to go with it. Enough dinner for tonight.

You took the chicken out of the fridge, placing it on the countertop for when you got dressed. Three loud knocks at your door pulled out out of your thoughts. You had no idea who it could be at this time. You prayed it wasn’t doucheface showing up again. You weren’t sure you could handle anymore disappointment today.

You twisted the knob, pulling the door open, only to reveal your next door neighbor standing in the doorway. He had a half smile playing on his lips as he stood in henley with the sleeves rolled up and a pair of jeans that fit him perfectly.

“You always answer the door in your robe?” he smirked. “‘Cause if so-”

“What do you want, Dean?” you chuckled, shaking your head.

“Mhh what?” he furrowed his brows, clearly getting a good look at you in your black robe.

“Dean, really?” you raised your eyebrow.

“Sorry, you’re just,” he pointed at you. “Sorry, I came over to ask you if I could borrow your microwave for a second. Mine broke this morning and I’m trying to heat up my dinner.”

“Yeah, c’mon in,” you nodded, opening the door a little wider for him to step in. Dean stepped in with a smile.

It wasn’t the first time Dean had been in your apartment and it definitely wouldn’t be the last. You had been neighbors for a little over a year. Eight months ago, he and his long time girlfriend Cassie broke up and he was a mess. You invited him to come over to distract him, and he ended up staying an entire weekend. You binge watched Friends and ate about a gallon of ice cream. That was when the two of you became really good friends.

Dean was in your apartment at least three times a week, depending on his week that is. Dean was a mechanic at a local garage that he and his dad owned with a few other guys. Most nights he finished around six and dropped by with some food for dinner. Other nights, he was working his other job. He and his younger brother Sam, owned a bar in town called Jefferson’s Starship. Dean named it of course.

He was a good guy. You got that vibe off of him instantly the day you met him. He helped you carry a few boxes into your apartment, which you needed. When you saw him upset that day he and his girlfriend broke up, you couldn’t stand it. He was a really good friend to you. One of the best actually. You weren’t the best when it came to guys, or friends for that matter. But Dean? Dean was special. There was no one that got you or your sense of humor like he did.

“I take it Doofy was over,” he teased, nodding once more to your outfit as he opened your microwave door.

“You really like calling him Doofy, huh?” you shook your head as you made your way over to the stool by the kitchen counter. “Yes, he was over.”

“I heard,” he smirked. “Well, him anyways.”

“Dean!” you raised your voice, shaking your head once more, trying to hide your smile.

“We share a wall, sweetheart. Your bedroom, my kitchen. Walls are thin,” he wiggled his eyebrows as he placed his hands on the counter in front of you. “So, let me guess this time. He came and left?”

“He came, asked if I did, then I asked him to leave,” you corrected him.

“Ouch,” he said sheepishly. “High and dry. That explains the robe and the wet hair.”

“How hard is it to pleasure a woman?” you called out. “I genuinely want to know. I haven’t found a single guy who knows the difference between my clit and my vagina, Dean! How hard is it?”

“Pretty hard if he doesn’t know the difference between buttons,” he let out a laugh.

“I’m just going to order a new toy off amazon at this rate. It’d get the job done,” you shrugged, feeling defeated.

“Can I watch?” he joked, opening the microwave door to stir his food. “Oh by the way. I wanted to ask you something which may or may not have been the real reason why I’m here. My microwave isn’t actually broken.”

“And here I thought you were here to comment on my sex life,” you breathed out, adjusting your robe a little more. “I’m all ears.”

“So my mom is having a birthday party this year, and they still think I have a girlfriend and invited us. I was kind of, sort of, maybe hoping you’d go with me to keep my family off my back for that anyways,” he said lowly, swirling around his food before shoving it back in for another two minutes.

“Me?” you raised your eyebrows. “Of all people, me?”

“You’re the only one I know that I can be myself around. I don’t have to force myself to get along with some random girl in front of my family. You’re one of my closest friends,” he pointed out. “You just have to pretend to be my girlfriend for the night. I swear I’ll repay you.”

“Will you though?” you side-eyed him playfully. “Look Dean, you really don’t have to. We’re friends and I’m happy to do it.”

“Really?” he beamed.

“Yeah, I’ll do it,” you smiled politely. “I’ve met your brother a few times so I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

“I owe you big time, Y/N. You have no idea how much you are saving my ass by doing this,” he breathed out as the microwave beeped at him again. “I have shown up to the last three birthday parties alone and I’m not going through the ‘oh Dean, when are you finally going to settle down’ comment from my cousins, and aunts. Granted I was still dating Cassie last year, but she was away on some journalism trip. Not that they ever showed interest in meeting her. I’d just rather not deal with that again. I’m tired of the comments.”

“I would say I know the feeling, but I don’t. I’ve been on my own since I was pretty young. I didn’t get along with my mom and it was just the two of us.” you shared. “You’re making me feel pretty thankful I’m on my own.”

“Really?” he cocked his eyebrow. “I always thought you got along with your mom?”

“No. Not even close,” you scoffed.

“Well, it’s you and me now, girlfriend,” he winked. “I’m serious about repaying you though. You’ll see why when you meet my family. Sammy is the only normal one.”

“Name your offer, Winchester,” you said, crossing your arms over your body.

“Uh, let’s see,” he raised his eyebrow, looking up to the left. “I’ll let you drive baby?”

“Really?” you rolled your eyes. “That buys you handholding and that’s about it.”

“Oh we’re playing this game now?” he chuckled, opening up your drawer to grab a fork for his dinner before taking a seat at the counter next to you. “Fine. How about - oh - how about I show you that not all guys are clueless when it comes to sex?” he said with a smirk.

“And how are you going to do that?” you cocked your eyebrow.

“How do you think, sweetheart?” he wiggled his eyebrows before taking a bite out of his food.

“You? You’re going to have sex with me?” you asked in confusion.

“Why not right? I mean, you’re gonna have to kiss me in front of my family. Not that you haven’t dreamed about kissing me,” he pointed out. “And besides, I know the difference between your clit and your pussy, how to pleasure you, and I’m not going to stick it in the wrong hole unless you ask me to.”

“You said you were never going to bring that up,” you let out a dry laugh.

“What kind of a friend would I be if I didn’t?” he grinned. “I’m serious though. I’ll show you a damn good time, and treat you right. We don’t have to do anything you aren’t comfortable with, of course. But I won’t leave the room until I know you’ve enjoyed yourself.”

“Dean, are you sure?” you questioned. “I mean, we’ve gotten really personal with each other but this is different. I don’t want to cross any lines here. I’m not putting our friendship at risk here.”

“I know, but I think we’re both mature enough to handle this. Nothing will ruin our friendship, ” he stated. “‘Sides, you have to know by now that I think you’re hot, and I’d nail you in a second given the chance. Call it practice for my mom’s party.”

“So if I untie this robe and drop it to the floor, you’d be cool with that?” you played, trying to gage his reaction as you stood up, stepping away from him. His eyes went dark as he froze, watching your every move.

“More than cool with that,” he muttered.

You reached for the tie, pulling it loose before opening up your robe. You could feel a lump forming in your throat. No going back now. Dean thought you were hot, you reminded yourself. You let the material fall over your shoulders, and drop to the floor around your feet. Dean swallowed hard, not daring to tear his eyes away from you.

“Son of a -” he breathed out.

“I’ll be in the bedroom when you’re done,” you teased,

“Oh I’m done,” he stated, getting up from the stool. “Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”

“Yeah?” you cocked your head to the side, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth. Your voice was confident, but inside, you were dying to cover up and hide away forever. You weren’t gorgeous, or sexy. You weren’t the kind of girl a guy like him fawned over. You found guys like doofy. It was almost like you needed confirmation that he thought you were attractive.

“Oh god, yeah,” he licked his lips. “Can - can I touch you?”

“Yes,” you nodded. Your eyes locked with his breathtaking green orbs as he stepped closer. You were expecting his hands to either reach for your breast or your ass. You knew he was going to touch you. He asked and it was to be expected.

He reached for your hips before slipping his arms around your waist, resting them on the small of your back. That was completely unexpected to say the least. His eyes were dark and filled with desire, but there wasn’t the typical I can’t wait to shove my dick inside you, lust that everyone else had. You were standing completely naked in front of him and he couldn’t take his eyes off your face. It was different and you liked that.

“Seriously, you are fucking gorgeous,” he muttered, leaning in closer to you. You felt his breath mingling with yours. Was he going to kiss you? One of his hands reached up to your cheek, his index finger brushing the wet strand of hair away from your face before cupping your cheek in his palm. You melted against his touch, just a little as you glanced up into those breathtaking green eyes of his. He inched closer, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, hesitant kiss that made your heart flutter in your chest. He was gentle, which is the opposite of what you were expecting from him of all people. If anything, he was making you feel more comfortable. You kissed him back with the same hesitancy he had. You slipped your hands around his back, tugging him closer to you out of instinct.

“Mhh, we should probably move this into the bedroom,” you muttered against his lips.

“You got it, sweetheart,” he smirked. His calloused hands slipped down the curve of your ass, reaching the back of your thighs. He lifted you off the ground with ease, earning a tiny yelp from your lips. You giggled as he carried you into your bedroom, kicking the door closed with his foot. He placed you carefully on the messy bed, letting you adjust yourself so you were comfortable while he stood tall.

“You’re wearing far too much clothing, Dean,” you smiled up at him. He cast his head down with a smile playing on his plump lips. “Off with the shirt and show me what you’re working with.”

He took the hem of his henley, tugging it over his head to reveal his upper body. God, he was a fucking sight. You had never seen him shirtless before this. You thought he was hot before this, but you had no idea just how hot he was until he shed some layers. He wasn’t completely toned. He was soft in some places and that only made you want him more. You wanted to trace your tongue over every inch of him.

“Damn, you’re hot,” you commented as you pulled your bottom lip between your teeth. He didn’t say anything to you. In fact, he looked a little nervous about it. You didn’t want to make a comment about it because this was a hook up and he wasn’t your boyfriend. You were going to let it slide this time and bring it up the next time you had a movie night or something. “Take it all off, baby.”

“You’re such a dork,” he let out a laugh. You watched as he unbuckled his jeans and shoved them and his boxers down his legs, revealing himself to you for the first time.

And oh my fucking god, he was perfect.

He has the nicest looking dick you had ever seen on a man. Big, thick and he kept himself well taken care of down there in terms of grooming. You were actually looking forward to this one. Not just for how hot he was. Dean was a good person, and not to mention a man of his word. You were looking forward to seeing what he had to offer you in terms of owing you one.

“Dean, you’re-“ you paused. “Fuck.”

“Like what you see?” He smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

“Eh,” you giggled. “I’m not on the pill, just so you know. I do have condoms in my drawer though.”

“Good to know,” he nodded. “Listen, don’t be afraid to tell me what you like and don’t like. By all means, tell me what to do and I’ll listen the best I can. I just want to make you feel good.”

“The very same goes for you too,” you told him. “I wanna be able to make you come too.”

“Trust me sweetheart, you are going to have no problems with that,” he assured you. “Now, are you sure you want to do this? I’m not going to force you to do something you don’t want to do.”

“I’m sure I want to do this,” you confirmed. You smiled at his words. It was nice of him to ask you. He wasn’t forcing you by any means, or making you feel like you had to do this. It was actually really nice of him the more you thought about it.

He carefully climbed on your bed from the bottom. Your eyes never left his body as he moved up the bed. His muscles flexed as he fit himself between your legs. His body hovered over yours, his cock pressing against your inner thigh. He captured his lips with yours almost unexpectedly, pulling your bottom lip between his, sucking down softly. Your hands traveled down the length of his back. You could feel the arousal pooling in your core. A delicious ache you couldn’t wait to satisfy.

His hand traced up your torso, his thumb brushing underneath your breast as his lips moved along your jaw, making their way to your neck. You let out a sigh, melting into the mattress beneath you. Your hands slipped into his hair as he kissed his way down to your breasts.

“F - Dean,” you breathed out. His lips latched around your nipple, his warm tongue flicking over your hardening bud. His touch gave you goosebumps and part of you thought that it was because you hadn’t been touched this extensively in a long time. He was fucking woreshipping you compared to the rest of them. Dean knew exactly where to touch you without a hint of guidance. He ignited something in you that no one had before. Maybe you were going to get an orgasm out of this after all.

“Feels good, don’t it?” he cooed, kissing along your abdomen as his hands soothed down your sides, filling your stomach with anticipation of what was to come.

“Damn good,” you panted. Your heart rate was speeding up, and he had barely even done anything to you yet.

He climbed off of you, taking a spot at the end of your bed. His hand gripped your waist, dragging you to the edge of the bed where he could begin the first real act of the night. He took his time and that was something you enjoyed about him. There was no rush like there usually was for you. His hand trailed along your inner thigh, tickling you in the best way, causing your core to clench around nothing. His soft, wet lips kissed along the opposite side of his hand and that drove you insane. You desperately wanted to feel him directly between your legs.

“Dean, I swear to god if you don’t -”

“Don’t what?” he chuckled. “Don’t rush a professional.”

“Where’s the professional?” you giggled, earning a bitch face from him. “I’m kidding!”

“Just sit back and enjoy the ride, sweetheart,” he winked, growing closer to where you needed him. He settled directly between your legs with a smirk playing on his lips. He pushed your legs open a little wider. The anticipation was killing you and he fucking knew it too.

He inched forward, flattening his tongue against your folds, licking a long slow strip upwards, stopping just before your clit. God, did it feel good. His tongue was warm and wetter somehow. The initial touch sending a wave a pleasure through you. You threw your head back against the mattress, your fist grasping at the comforter. You wanted him to do it over and over again.

“Fuck,” you whimpered.

“Feel good?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, staring up at the ceiling, awaiting his next move. You released the comforter, allowing yourself to relax. Dean did the exact same thing, this time going even slower and reaching your clit, causing you to jerk just a little. He kept up with that for another couple of strokes, and you could feel yourself growing more and more slick as he did.

He pressed a kiss to your clit as his finger circled around your entrance. Your eyes clamped shut the second his tongue flicked swiftly over your little bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked upwards, needing more and more of his touch. You could feel him smirking against you. He knew exactly what he was doing.

He pushed a digit inside of you and you let out a breathy moan. He curled his finger as his lips enclosed around your clit, sucking just enough to drive you insane. You arched your back, needing more of him.

“De-Dean,” you groaned. “To the left.”

“Your left or mine?”

“Mine,” you panted. His tongue flickered over your clit to the left in a repetitive, but unpredictable motion that had your toes curling. Your hand reached for his head, your fingers fisting his hair tugging him in the right direction as he sucked down on you.

You could feel that familiar burn pooling in your lower abdomen. You knew it was mere moments before Dean worked you into your first orgasm the night. He removed his finger from your center and moved both his hands underneath your ass, his fingers digging into your flesh as his tongue worked it’s magic.

“Fuck Dean, I’m gonna - I’m -” you could barely even get the words out before warm pleasure pulsated through you. You twitched against him, your fingers pulling at his hair to try to keep him in place, and he never let up. He worked your through it, making it last as long as he possibly could.

He pulled away and you felt lifeless. You had no idea how to even move, let alone breathe. Dean wasn’t lying when he said he knew what he was doing. You tried to focus on breathing. In through your nose, out through your mouth.

“Y/N, you alive?” he asked you.

“I- I think,” you answered, your voice high pitched as your eyes opened, meeting his gorgeous green orbs. “Barely but alive. Just give me a minute after that one. Fuck!”

“Told you I’m good,” he winked playfully.

“Oh shut up!” you let out a laugh, rolling onto your side, pressing your lips to his, tasting yourself on his tongue. His hand instinctively reached up to your hip, drawing you into him as he kissed you. God, did this man know how to kiss. He had your toes curling at the thought of continuing like this. But you knew he had other plans for the night, and quite frankly, so did you. “Your turn now, Dean.”

“You definitely don’t have to do that, Y/N,” he shook his head.

“I know. I want to. It’s only fair to for one, and two, I really want to taste you,” you played. “You want to move up the bed a little more?”

“Yeah,” he nodded. You managed to sit up, allowing Dean to lay in the middle of your bed. His hard cock rested against his stomach, and honestly, you couldn’t wait to taste him. You couldn’t wait to feel him on your tongue. Dean positioned himself so he was comfortable, and you gravitated between his legs. It was going to be easier for you to take him this way. You knew there was no way you were going to fit all of him in your mouth, but you were going to try your very best to pleasure him the same way he did you.

You took his velvety length in your hand, your mouth watering at the sight of him. Dean’s eyes were on you, and somehow, that didn’t make you nervous. You stuck your tongue out, licking the tip of his cock, instantly tasting the salty, almost sweet, precome that pooled at the slit. Dean hissed at the contact and you knew you did something right.

You moved down to his balls, flattening out your tongue before moving carefully along each one. Then you traced a line up his length, reaching the top, taking the entire head in your mouth. Your eyes flicked up, looking at Dean’s face directly and you could see that he was enjoying what you were doing so far. You sucked down lightly, spit collecting in your mouth as you did so. You released him, using your saliva as lube to slick up his cock, making it easier to pleasure him without worrying about hurting him.

You took him in your heat, sinking down a little lower this time while your hand jerked off what you couldn’t fit in your mouth. You could feel each ridge and vain along your tongue, and damn did he taste good. A taste you wouldn’t mind having more than once if it were up to you.

“Fucking hell, Y/N,” he growled. His hands made their way into your hair, half holding it back, half kind of tugging. You circled around the tip, running swiftly into the slit before teasing over his frenulum. He let out a loud groan, trying his hardest not to buck his hips up.

“Y/N-” he cried out as you took him deeper, the tip hitting near the back of your throat as your hand jerked him faster. You sucked down, causing him to moan once more.

“Y/N - fuck, you gotta stop,” he urged you. You pulled off of him with a pop, wiping your lips with the back of your hand. He was panting, his chest heaving. You smiled, knowing you did a good job.

Dean rolled off to the side, opening up the drawer of your bedside table, grabbing one of the condoms out of the box of twelve. As nervous as you were before, you weren’t now. Not even close. If anything, you were excited to be doing this with Dean. No pressure or unrealistic expectations. He cared whether or not you were enjoying yourself, and you were. But most of all, you were comfortable with Dean. Maybe it was for all of those reasons, or the fact that you had never trusted someone the same way you did your best friend. He wasn’t some random guy you met in a bar or a diner.

“You sure you want to do this?” he questioned once more, playing with the condom between his index finger and his thumb. “We don’t have to. I can just pay you back some other way if you don’t want to.”

“Yeah. I want to,” you nodded. “Do you want to?”

“Yeah,” he said softly, ripping the condom package open. He took the condom out, rolling it down properly over his hard length. You lay down on the bed, opening up your arms for him to climb on top of you. He spread your legs a little wider as he positioned himself between them. You couldn’t wait to feel that stretch when he pushed into you.

He took his thick cock in his hand, running it swiftly through your folds. You instinctively moved your legs further apart, your eyes meeting his, waiting for him to move. You nodded your head, reassuring him that he could proceed. He smiled softly. The tip of his cock lined up with your entrance. Your hands traced up his arms, settling on his shoulders. He pushed himself gingerly inside of you, stretching your walls more than you expected as they accommodated his length. You took a sharp intake of breath, your eyes shutting as your head pressed to the pillow beneath it.

Dean positioned his hands on either side of your body. His lips met yours as he bottomed out inside you. His kiss putting you at ease. You wrapped your arms securely around his shoulders and bent your knees to give him more room to begin moving. He felt fucking perfect inside.

“You good?” he breathed out, trailing his lips along your jaw.

“Yeah,” you swallowed. “‘M good.”

He drew his hips back before moving back in at the very same pace. You felt your walls fluttering at the new sensation of him. He felt fucking amazing when he moved. His length hit all the spots you needed him to, and all the spots you didn’t know you needed touched until now. His muscles tensed just a little when he moved, and his lips never left your skin, only added to the overwhelming satisfaction he was already giving you.

“You have no fucking idea how good you feel around me,” he growled into your neck.

“If it’s anywhere near how good you feel inside me then I think I know,” you groaned, your hand shifting into his hair, keeping him at the sensitive spot on your neck that drove you crazy. “Keep kissing there.”

“Curl your fingers in my hair again,” he asked lowly, his hips pushing back into yours.

His thrusts picked up the pace. You rolled your hips against his in tune with his and that familiar burn made itself known. Your breathing was getting shallower, and a thin layer of sweat coated your skin, especially in the places Dean’s skin was touching yours. The heat from him, along with the incredible aura you were creating together; it was bound to get a little hot.

Dean was panting against your skin, and he had to adjust himself, leaving your neck. He held himself up on his hands once more, his chest abandoning yours. His eyes traveled up and down your body, drinking you in as his cock quivered inside you. You didn’t want this to come to an end. He made you feel so fucking high; like every other emotion didn’t exist. It was just pure euphoria.

You readjusted yourself, hooking your ankles around his ass, giving him a different angle. He pushed into you and hit your g-spot dead on, you almost came right then. That coil in your stomach was growing tighter and tighter as he moved. You could feel every dip and ridge of his cock. Your mouth was growing dry as you struggled to breathe.

“Dean, I’m so close,” you straggled out.

“Good,” he panted. “Me too. What do you need?”

“Faster!”

He picked up his pace, pounding into you. You let out a loud moan and suddenly you were thankful it was only Dean’s apartment next to yours and no one else was next to you. Dean pecked your lips once more, and you could see the drips of sweat beading on his forehead and the top of his freckled dusted nose. His green eyes were damn near black, hooded with lust and pleasure that you had never seen before. You wanted to make him come. You wanted to hear him.

He hit your sweet spot once more, throwing you over the edge. You arched into him as your fingers dug into the flesh of his back. He collapsed on top of you, and you buried your head in his neck, muffling your cry just a little. Pure ecstasy flowed through you, causing you to shake beneath him. Your walls clamped down around him so tightly, you were afraid he wouldn’t be able to move.

“Fuck - Y/N, mhh,” he groaned, slamming his hips into yours as he spilled himself into the condom. He twitched, moving just a little as the waves of his orgasm worked through him. You were shaking, but at the same time, you felt completely lifeless. Like he had fucked every ounce of energy out of you, and in a way, he had.

He pulled out of you slowly, holding the base of his cock where the condom was. You pointed to the tissues on the nightstand for him to use. He quickly discarded the condom into the trash bin next to your bed before he settled down next to you.

“Fuck,” he breathed out. “That was better than I imagined it would be.”

“You imagined it?” you let out a chuckle.

“Of course I have. Have you seen yourself?” he let out a laugh. “In all honesty though, it was some good sex.”

“It was,” you agreed, adjusting your head on your pillow as you glanced up at the ceiling.

“Did you come?” he laughed.

“Shut up, asshole,” you shook your head.

“Oh I know you did,” he teased. “More than once. I’m just that good.”

“Yeah yeah,” you licked your bottom lip. “You held up your end pretty damn good if I do say so myself.”

“I’m glad,” he smirked. “I don’t think we’ll have any problems convincing my parents we’re together.”

“Me either,” you breathed out.

He rolled off the bed, reaching for his boxers on the floor at the end of the bed. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of him as he tucked himself back in his boxers. You weren’t expecting him to stay in the slightest. It was a good time and it would’ve been awkward if he did.

“So where and when for your mom’s party?” you asked, moving the pillow to cover yourself up a little.

“Saturday night,” he said, pulling on his jeans. “I’ll pick you up at seven. It’s kind of fancy so you’ll have to wear a dress. I’m wearing a black suit if that helps you at all.”

“I have a classy black dress that should work,” you nodded.

“Perfect,” he nodded. “I am really thankful you’re helping me out. I don’t mean to fuck you and run, but I’ve kind of gotta get to the bar.”

“It’s okay,” you assured him. “Not like we’re together, bestie.”

“I know, but I like to treat my women better than that when we do something like this,” he frowned.

“I’m your best friend and I know where you live. Trust me, it’s cool. I’m not really one for cuddling after sex and talking about feelings anyways,” you shrugged. “Thanks for making me come, not once, but twice. You treated me better than any guy. Now get out of my apartment and go to work.”

“Yes ma’am,” he chuckled. “You could always come with?”

“Nah,” you shook your head. “I’ve got plans with my one true love, Netflix.”

“Sorry I’m getting in the way of that,” he let out a laugh. “I’ll see you later.”

“That you will, Dean,” you winked. “Thank you for this. You do know how to satisfy a woman.”

“You’re damn right I do.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Part 2 coming Sunday!

Did you like it? What was your favourite part? Share your thoughts with me via reblog, reply or send me an ask! Your response is what keeps me sharing stories like this! I will not be sharing anymore without it.

feedback is the most important thing you can do for a writer!

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iguessweallcrazyithinktho · 4 years ago

Text

New love on New years day

Summary:

You meet a sweet guy at a new years party when you need to go outside for fresh air

Warning: fluff

Pairing: Chris Evans x reader

Masterlist • request for Chris closed momentarily

Author note: I just want to tell you that I'm no more longer writing smuts! I don't feel comfortable and shouldn't even write them in the first place because I'm really uneducated and shit so no more smuts for a while until I feel like I know enough. And I won't be reading smuts either. I'll be writing implied though.

Please don't post any of my content anywhere else without my permission. Comment and reblogs welcome!

Bodies were everywhere. Everytime you turned you ran into someone. They almost always gave you a dirty look before they ran off. parties aren't your thing, you hated the loud noise, the drinking, and the sweaty people grinding on you. It grossed you out. The only reason why you were there was because your friend samantha invited you but you managed to lose her in the first five minutes of entering. now you were alone and you hated it.

You made your way outside into the cool air. You took a massive deep breath as you tried to think about how bare the balcony was compared to the pumping party inside. You didn't notice but a guy was watching you the whole time and he could tell you were struggling. So he followed you to make sure you were alright.

"hey!"

You turned around to see a guy standing in a white button up. He had a beer in his hand and a concerned look on his face. "Um are you alright?"

You nodded softly as you smiled. "Yes I'm okay, thanks for asking." You turned around hoping he'll go awaybut he didn't. He walked right up beside you and looked out at the view as you did the same.

"it's a beautiful New years Eve isn't it?"

You turned to him seeing a slight smile on his face. You surprisingly felt safe around him compared to any other guys that approached you.

"yeah it is." You looked down at your watch seeing that it was 11:50. "In about 10 minutes fireworks will the sky as a new year comes and a old boring one passes."

Chris looked at you, fully taking in your image. You were beautiful, dressed casually but not too casual, and your mood was calming, he even felt so relaxed around compared to his hyped up friends group.

"yeah it was a pretty boring year." He chuckled softly causing you to chuckle. You both stayed silent for a second before you heard people enter the balcony so they could watch the fireworks. You felt your anxiety grow. "Oh no."

Chris turned to you seeing how tense you were and how your breathing started to become uneven. "Hey it's okay." He sat his beer on the ground before he took a hold of your shoulder lightly. "I got a place where we can go where there's no people and we can still watch the fireworks." Chris took your hand in his. "Come with me."

He led you through the house and up the stairs. You were severally confused. "Where are we going?" You blurted out. Chris turned to you for a second while he continued. "I'm taking you to the room on the second floor. There's no one up there and it'll help your anxiety. Don't worry I won't hurt you. I got horrible anxiety too don't worry."

Chris pulled you into a room that was a huge size. "Let's go outside shall we." He let you walk out first before he did the same. You didn't think it was possible but the view was better. "Wow this nice." You said as you turned to Chris. "Uh I never got your name. Mine is y/n by the way."

"mine is chris. Y/n is a great name by the way." You smiled at him. You could feel butterflies exploding in your stomach. You turned back to in front of you, the count down from 60 could be heard from downstairs. You count along. "56,55,54,53,52,"

You turned to Chris seeing him just smiling at you. "Come on count with me." Chris rolled his eyes playfully before he counted along with you. "30,29,28,27,26,25,24,23,22,21,20,"

You turned to Chris beaming. He was already looking at you. Your smile fell as you looked into his eyes. His eyes were literally like the ocean and you couldn't take your eyes off of them. The counting was long forgotten all you wanted was to kiss his lips.

"I don't know if this is ok but I-," you leaned in and placed your lips on his. Chris melted slowly into your lips as you both shared a kiss. It felt like fireworks were going off- oh wait there actually was. It was a new year and you have a new love. This party was worth it.

*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*✭˚･ﾟ✧*･ﾟ*

Happy new years to everyone around the world. I hope you all get what you want in the new year. Money, love, happiness, whatever it is I hope you get it. Remember to wear a mask if it's mandatory where you are and be a kind person because someone could need it.

@chris-butt @princess-evans-addict @patzammit @bval-1 @irespostthingsiwanttoseelater @raveviolet @rynabarnesrogers-reading @enn-j @london-dreamer71 @harrysthiccthighss @captainamerica-is-bae @la-cey @weirdowithnobeardo @lovepeacefood @baby-i-am-fireproof @denisemarieangelina @evans713 @smyfmj @thereisa8ella @rororo06 @keiva1000 @ughitsnic @kianifan @adriannajackson @marvelnaturalock @notyourtypicalrose @dummiesshort @onetwo3000 @hhiggs @a-little-counter-esperanto

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans imagines #chris evans smut #chris evans x plus size reader #chris evans imagine #chris evans x black reader

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c-watches-too-many-shows · 4 years ago

Text

‘The One’ - Mat Barzal (Part Two)

It’s finally here! Sorry it took me so long to write it, uni is killing me. Like and reblogs are always appreciated!

Hope you like it!

PS: I didn’t proofread it so almost sure there are some errors sorry!

Part 1

Masterlist

Word count: 4.1k

Warnings: implicit mention of sex (?)

Tonight was Mat’s night, he was scoring goal after goal and he knew the reason. Every time he had the puke he advanced with one thing in mind: you. Knowing that he could look up and find you there in your old spot between the wags, smiling and cheering for him was all the fuel he needed to play what was probably his best game of the season so far.

You had missed it so much. The mere feeling of being there surrounded by everyone, the atmosphere of the place, it was electrifying. However what you had missed the most definitely was the way his head would instinctively shoot up after each goal, each assistance; his eyes meeting with yours and being able to express to him how proud and happy you were with just one look.

Before you knew it the game was over, the boys rushed to the locker room and you stayed with the girls waiting for them. That’s when the nerves started kicking in. There was only one thing left for the night and you still weren’t sure what to expect.

Ever since your encounter earlier that week you haven’t been able to stop thinking about it. Nevertheless no matter how much you thought about it you never seem to find an answer to all your doubts. You were still clueless as to how the night could turn out. Were you going to get back together? Or just talk until you came to the conclusion that there was no solution?

Part of you wanted everything to go back to how it was a year ago, get back together and forget you even thought you could live without each other. But another part, the more rational one, kept reminding you that even a year later you still had the same problems you did then, nothing had or could change really. So was it worth trying again just to stumble over the same stone and having to go over the same painful process of walking away from him?

Your thoughts were interrupted when the locker room opened and Mat was the first out.

“Hey superstar!” You walked up to him. His face lit up when he saw you there. This was surely another thing he had missed, having you there to celebrate the triumphs and comfort him after the defeats. He didn’t hesitate and pulled you into his chest, arms holding you tight against him. His smile only grew when he felt you hug him back.

“That was amazing. Really. I haven’t seen you play like that since…” you started to say as you pulled away but words died in your mouth when you realized where the sentence was going.

“I know.” he replied.

“What about me? Wasn't I amazing?” a familiar voice added from behind you and soon you felt an arm around your shoulders.

"Yes you were amazing as well Tito" you said turning to the blonde next to you.

"Thank you." he said before tightening his grip on you, giving you a side hug. Mat observed the interaction happily, trying to hide the grin on his face. "Come on, first round is on me."

"Not today man." Mat mumbled between his teeth, brows raising trying to signal to his best friend this was not the moment. It took Tito second to realize where he was screwing up. Once he did he mouthed a ‘sorry’ to his friend, lips pursed into an awkward grin.

"We can go if you want. I don't mind-" you started to say but he was quick to cut you off.

"I don't want to." he stopped you, sounding a bit rough. You looked at him confused, you knew Mat loved celebrating with the guys after a win, especially after a big one like the one they had today.

"I mean I obviously enjoy going to celebrate after a win, but tonight all I want is to be just us and, you know, talk." he clarified after seeing the muddled look on your face, reassuring you he was okay with missing out tonight, he had something way more important to do.

"Ok.” you agreed with him, knowing that there was a certain conversation that needed to happen. “Let me say goodbye to the rest and then we can go." you told him before turning around and walking away.

He watched you as you hugged his teammates and their partners, loving how you just fitted between them, like you were always meant to be part of this group that had become his chosen family. It was clear to him that you were what was missing from his life, he already knew it but seeing you back in it only confirmed it. In that moment he understood he was willing to do anything to have you back.

"Sorry man I forgot." Tito brought him back to reality. He just titled his neck brushing it off. "So how are you? Nervous?"

"Very." he replied as he kept on shifting his weight from side to side.

"What do you think she'll say?"

"I honestly don't know. I just hope she takes me back. If she says no I-I don't know-" He started getting anxious at the mere thought of you rejecting him. Tito could perceive this and tried to calm him down.

"She's gonna say yes Mat. You two are meant to be, known it since the day you presented her to us."

"I really hope you're right." he replied but you were back before he could start spiraling again.

"Ready?" he asked as you stood next to him. You nodded and went to give Tito a final hug.

“Listen to him. Please.” he murmured into your ear, low enough so Mat wouldn’t hear him. Your heart shrinked, it sounded almost like a pleade.

"Goodbye Beau.” You pulled away with a smile. “Take a shot for me."

"Oh I will."

With that you both turned around and started making your way to the parking lot side to side. Your left hand accidentally brushed his right one and it sent a shock down your spine. Mat obviously noticed your reaction which made you look away, embarrassed of how much effect he still had on you with such little things. You were surprised when you felt his hand slowly slip into yours.

He knew he was taking a risk, not sure what your response would be. However you didn’t pull away, you even gave his hand a slight squeeze. He beamed down at you and a guilty feeling started growing on you. Maybe you shouldn’t have done that. You didn’t want to give him false hopes, especially when you still didn’t know how you wanted the night to go.

It was going to be a simple night, no fancy outing or anything, just dinner at his place and then eventually the so equally dreaded and anticipated talk.

Once you were at his place you were surprised to see everything was pretty much the same. Everything was exactly where it used to be, even the portraits with pictures of the two of you and the small basket with blankets he had bought after you had told him how cold his apartment would get some nights. He never understood that until one night, meryl days after your break up when he found himself alone watching the tv unable to sleep shivering, and the only comfort he could get were those blankets. But not necessarily because they kept him warm, only because they still had your essence.

“I obviously didn’t cook.” he informed you as he placed his bag near the door and made his way to the kitchen.

“Obviously.” you teased following him closely.

“We can order whatever you want and .. I bought this” He turned around with a bottle of your favourite wine in his hands. You smiled at the sweet gesture, he still remembered.

As he turned back to grab the corkscrew and open the bottle, you went to the cupboards to grab two glasses. Then passed them to him and took a seat on the counter next to him as he poured the drink. He gave you one glass and proceeded to lean against the kitchen island in front of you.

The whole scene felt so familiar, it had happened countless times when you were together, casual evenings drinking wine in his kitchen as you told him about your day or talked about his last game.

He watched you take a sip of your glass as your eyes wandered through the kitchen and a thought sneaked into his mind, a dirty one. It wasn’t exactly a thought, it was more of a memory. His cheeks went red and he tried pushing it away but he couldn’t.

“Do you remember…” he started to say, not sure if he should bring it up or not.

“Ander’s birthday last year?” you finished his sentence. The same thought had taken over your mind the second you sat on the counter and rested your head against the cupboard.

“Yes!” he let out with a chuckle, letting his head fall back with relief.

“We were wasted.” you pointed out as you remembered that night.

You had both drank a little too much at Anders birthday and after somehow making it back home in one piece you didn’t make it past the kitchen. Your breath hitched as you recalled his strong arms lifting you and placing you on the counter, your hands tangled in his hair, his lips on your neck, your legs around his waist.

“Still some of the best sex I’ve ever had tho.” he pointed out.

“Oh for sure. I still have a small scar in the back of my head as proof.” you added causing both of you to crack up. At some point that night you had hit yourself with the cupboard behind you, but you were so drunk you only realized the morning after.

“We had some good times, didn’t we?” you said reminiscently once the laughter had died.

“We can still have more.” he corrected you.

“Mat...” The gloomy tone on your voice warned him.

“Let’s wait until after dinner to talk about everything, ok?” he suggested and you nodded, not wanting to ruin the nice moment you were just having. There would be time later to have that serious conversation, even if you didn’t want that time to come. He could tell how you were starting to drift away in your thoughts, certainly not good ones, so he rapidly changed the topic. “What do you want to eat then?”

“Maybe pizza? I’m not in a fancy mood.”

“Pizza it is.”

The pizza arrived in a matter of minutes, you insisted on paying since he had bought the wine, and he had to hold back the casual comment of how he’d be paying the next time, because he didn’t know if there would be a next one but he did know pushing you would only lower his chances of ending the night on a good note.

You decided to move the dinner to the living room where you’d be more comfortable. Both of you sat on the large couch, glass of wine in one hand slice of pizza in the other.

An hour later the pizza was long gone, so was the wine. You had talked about practically every topic, both of you too scared to touch the one you were there to talk about in the first place.

The room went silent and you knew it was time.

“So …”

“It’s time, isn’t it?” He placed down his glass on the small table, getting ready for what was about to come.

“Didn’t you want to have this conversation?” you chirped him up a little to take the tension off.

“I did- I do! Doesn’t change the fact I’m nervous as hell.” He ran his hand through his hair, something he’d do when he was on edge.

“Don’t be, it's same old me Mat.” you told him trying to calm him down, but also trying to calm yourself, reminding you it was Mat after all. No matter how things turned out tonight, it was Mat, nothing bad could happen.

He took a deep breath, mentally going over everything he needed to say. He had even practiced it with Tito, something his best friend would tease him about for the rest of their lives. He wanted to have the right words to express how he felt, scared one wrong move could blow his last chance with you.

“I missed you so much Y/N. I still can't believe I ever let you go. I replay that night in my head over and over again and I don’t understand how I just let you leave. We were having a fight because I was gone all the time and when I wasn’t gone you were working, and I was mad because there was nothing I could do about it and you were mad too. I don’t even remember who proposed it-”

“It was me. I was the one who said maybe breaking up was the better option.” you cut him off. Flashbacks of that night started rushing to your head as he spoke and you certainly remembered things differently.

“It wasn’t just a fight Mat, it was the same fight over and over again. I know that sometimes we forget about the bad things and just keep the nice memories, that’s what we were doing days ago in the coffee, but the bad moments still existed Mat, it wasn’t all sunshine and rainbows. Towards the end we’d fight almost weekly and it was always the same, we fought until we were exhausted and then we’d just push it away and pretend everything was fine because we both knew there was no solution for our problems.”

You told yourself you’d have an open mind, not discard the idea of getting back together immediately because you knew part of you wanted that. Nevertheless ignoring the problem you had would not solve anything. You needed Mat to accept things weren’t good, recognize you had problems. If not things were destined to fail once again.

“I know. I know we had problems, I remember the fights, but we can learn from them. It doesn’t have to be like that this time.” he was quick to add. It sounded childish but he had thought of good comebacks, almost as if he was preparing for an exam, the hardest and most important of his life.

However you had good arguments too. You wanted to believe him, you wanted to believe this time would be different but how could it be if everything was still the same?

"Nothing has changed Mat. You still have to travel and train and even if you could somehow spend less time away it would be selfish from me to ask you to. It's your dream Mat I'm not gonna do that. Plus I'm putting my job first too so it would be hypocritical of me to ask you not to do the same."

He knew what you were doing, he knew you too well not to. You were closing the door before it was even open because you were scared. Still he understood why it was like that, you were right up to a certain point, but he wasn't about to give up, not when he finally had the chance to say everything he had been wanting to ever since that horrible night.

“You’re just thinking about the bad things. Remember all the good times we had Y/N, don’t you think it’s worth it? Because I sure think it is.”

In a leap of faith he scooted closer to you and grabbed your hands that were resting in your laps. He needed the contact, he needed you to feel how honest he was being, how much he wanted this.

“We still have it, I know we do, I felt it in the coffee shop days ago, tonight at the game, on the drive here, as we were having dinner. I know we have it, I know we can make it.”

That all too familiar knot started forming in your throat and your vision went blurry with tears that threatened to fall any second. He was tearing down your barrier, but behind it all you could show were the wounds from the past.

"I don't want to go through it again Mat. It hurt-” you started to say but your voice broke mid sentence, you couldn't hold it anymore. “The fighting, the impotence, the break up, trying to move on. It all hurt too much I can't do all of that again." you cried out, too busy feeling all the emotions you had bottled up to feel embarrassed for the scene you were causing.

Mat was heartbrokened. He hated that he was the reason for those tears rolling down your cheeks. For a moment he considered giving up, he couldn't see you like that anymore, he couldn't bear the thought of him being what caused you so much hurt.

But he didn't. ‘One last time’ he told himself. One last time and if you said no then he’d accept it. It would kill him yes, but he would accept it because you were all that mattered to him and if letting you go was the right thing for you he'd do it. He'd do anything for you.

With that in mind, knowing it would be his last attempt, he started getting anxious. He could feel you slowly slipping away from him. Nerves got the worst of him, it was evident when he started talking again.

"But we don't have to. We won't Y/N. You're it for me, I promise if we try again I won't let you go this time. Well I mean you can break up with me if we get back together obviously, I won't force you or anything- what I mean is I won't break up with you- Not that I ever wanted! But I-" he started stumbling on his words and you couldn't help but giggle. He felt pathetic but at least he was able to make you somehow feel better throughout the tears, that was a bit gratifying.

However he still needed to get it together, so he took a final deep breath trying to gather his thoughts. Already knowing what his next words were going to be he moved closer and gently placed a hand on your face, making sure you were looking at him when he said it because he needed you to see how much he meant it.

"I love you Y/N. I still do and I dont think I'll ever stop loving you.” Your eyes went wide at his words, deep down you knew it, but hearing it was different. You never thought you'd hear those words from Mat’s lips again, yet he was right in front of you saying it, looking at you with all the love in the world, and something started building inside of you.

“These past few months showed me what a life without you is like and I don't ever want to go through that again.” he continued, now more confident after seeing your reaction. “I want to wake up next to you. I want you to tell me about what weird dream you had while I make us breakfast. I want to pick you up from work every afternoon. I want you to wear my jersey and take you to all my games. I want silly fights about which movie we should watch. I want to come home to find you asleep on the couch and pick you up and tug you to sleep. I want to show you off to everyone. I want to make up after every fight. I want to start and end every single day with you. I want to get married and have kids and grow old.”

With every sentence your smile only grew bigger, you tried to contain it but you couldn’t hide it anymore. Mat noticed this and got so excited he kept on going to the point he even forgot where he was going so he took a pause before finishing his confession.

“What I’m trying to say is: I love you Y/N. I love you so much and I know we can make it work. Please give us a second chance”

You looked at his eyes one final time. They were full of hope, something you lacked but you were sure he had enough for both of you. All the reasons why this wasn’t going to work didn’t matter anymore, not when you had the love of your life in front of you telling you he still loved you, fighting for you, reassuring you you’d make it this time. You couldn’t say no to him, most importantly you didn’t want to. You wanted him as much as he did, you missed him as much as he did and you loved him as much as he loved you.

You leaned forward, resting your forehead against his, needing the extra touch as encouragement to say something you’d been holding in for too long.

“I love you.” you whispered, lips less than an inch apart from his, noses touching. Your eyes were closed but you could feel his smile. He let out a deep breath, the weight he had been carrying for so long finally being lifted off his shoulders. He couldn’t count how many nights he dreamed of you saying those words to him, it was surreal.

“I love you” he replied before shortening the distance between your lips and finally kissing you.

It was all he had imagined and more. He already knew your lips, but this time it was different, his heart fluttered the second your his lips were on yours.

It started as a gentle kiss. You’d smile against each other, giggles escaping from both of you because you couldn’t contain your happiness. Whispering ‘I love you’s between kisses. It was a mess of a kiss, but a beautiful one.

Then your hands sneaked to the back of his neck, pulling him closer till there was no space between your bodies. You leaned back on the couch with Mat on top of you. It was slow and soft, bodies melting into each other. One of his hands stayed on your face, thumb caressing your cheek, while the other went to your waist. Your hands started roaming over his body; his neck, his shoulder, his back, his hair. He yearned for your touch.

It soon turned into an openmouthed kiss, almost sexual. It was fiery, full of passion, almost like your bodies missed each other for so long and now that they were back together you couldn’t pull away, but you also didn’t want to. At some point he turned you around, making you lay on top of him. Now his hands were the ones wandering over your body.

The kiss was long and it only ended when you had run out of breath, if not it could have gone on forever.

“I missed that.” he breathed out, unable to breath. Your forehead still gently placed against his.

“Me too.” you replied with a hoarse voice trying to catch your breath.

“I missed you.” he added, accentuating the ‘you’. You lift your head to look at him.

“I miss you too Mat.” you murmured placing a final kiss on his lips before nestling in his chest. He hummed in content, leaving one hand in your lowback and the other going to tenderly stroke your hair.

“I honestly was expecting you to try and extort me with a puppy.” you said out of the blue making him laugh, feeling his chest vibrate against your cheek with every laugh.

“Oh Tito suggested it and I thought about it, but you’re too smart, wouldn’t have fallen for it.”

“I don’t know, maybe it would have saved us all this trouble.” you joked, placing your chin on his chest to see his face.

“Excuse me?” He looked down at you with furrowed brows and an offended expression. “I just opened my heart for you and you call it ‘trouble’?” You were the one laughing now and he soon joined.

“God I missed this.” he said, pressing you impossibly closer to his body.

“I love you.” you told him once again, stretching your neck to place a kiss under his jaw. He’d never get tired of hearing those words coming from you.

“I love you too.” he replied, placing one on the top of your head.

With your heart beating against his, for the first time in months, he felt at home. That piece that had been missing was finally back, he was complet.

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sulphuryasecretcloset · 4 years ago

Text

What if...10b

Okay, so this ‘epilogue’ became... a monster. I decided to split chapter 10 into two parts because it was already so big, and, uh, yeah, now I’m splitting 10b into three parts. THIS IS WHAT HAPPENS WHEN YOU ENABLE ME, PEOPLE. Your lovely comments, your kind reblogs and support turned this from what was supposed to be no more than 4 chapters into 90 000 word ramble.

*ahem*

So part 10b is Dulcy POV, 10c is chaotic everyone POV, and then there will be a bonus part for someone who didn’t get to join Dulcy and Dav’s little family.

What if Dulsissia hadn’t died, what if she had grabbed Corin and fled? What if she met Davarax? What if…

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10a

Epilogue; Dulcy

“We’ll be back later, dad!” Corin exclaims from where he’s standing next to Din in the doorway, eager to call Davarax that at every occasion he can find.

Davarax nods and gives a light wave to the two teenagers about to step out of the house they have rented on this obscure, little planet and head into the nearby town. (Having picked up a bit of Motti credits makes things a lot easier.) “Duly noted, son.”

The slight smile on his face tells Dulsissia that Davarax is well aware of Corin’s need to constantly reaffirm their new relationship and indulges him with never-ending patience. But what she also notes is how Din hesitates half a second while Corin turns to leave and she sees there is hurt in his dark eyes as they linger on Davarax.

That evening, while Barthor wraps up his conversation with his father via the holo-communicator, Davarax holds Raga back until the boy is done and the line is free for her to call her parents.

Dulsissia glances after Barthor shuffling back towards their house, helmet held low and shoulders slumped. Just like during previous calls, his parents show close to no interest in their son and he is equally disappointed every time. “Dav?”

Davarax turns his attention away from Raga and over to Dulsissia. “Yeah?”

“Why don’t you adopt the others too? Like you did with Corin?” Her heart breaks every time she sees these children with sadness in their eyes and Davarax is the one who always brings smiles to their faces.

Sighing, Davarax leans against the door frame. “It’s not that easy…”

“Why not?”

“For one thing, Paz and Raga have their families. The Saxons are… unique, but they love her. And Dez, well, I hope that maybe he’ll come to his senses.” Davarax looks over at Barthor’s retreating shape as well. “Barthor… I might have to talk to him about it.”

Dulsissia frowns as he doesn’t mention the most obvious one of all; “What about Din?”

“Din…” Davarax looks down at the floor. He looks guilty. “I messed that up. Big time.”

“He’d forgive you in a heartbeat.” Dulsissia declares. “He worships you.”

“Maybe.” Davarax replies, not sounding convinced. “But I don’t deserve his forgiveness. And after what he’s been through, I think Din needs to be allowed to hold on to his roots before another adult tries to pressure their identity on him.”

What that boy needs is a father, Dulsissia thinks, but before she can voice her thoughts she’s distracted by someone shouting. Looking over, she sees Raga’s mother in the holo-projector screaming at someone out of sight before turning back to focus on her daughter again.

“What was that, Raga? You said something about how many push ups? You’re up to what now?”

“Fifty-”

“PUT THAT DOWN!” Raga’s mother bellows to her right and then makes a frustrated grunt and reaches out to grab someone. “Here. Talk to your brother. I have to murder your other two brothers for a bit.” She steps away and a smaller Mandalorian with a green helmet takes her place.

“Raga. Still ugly I see. You really should have kept the helmet on.”

“Sioben. Still a moron, I hear. I was kind of hoping dad had followed through on his threat to dropkick you into space.” Raga counters. “Paz taught me some new tricks. I’m going to kick your ass when I see you again.”

Sioben shakes his head. “I don’t know why he puts up with you. He could have anyone he wants, he’s a huge badass ‘and’ a Vizla. I can’t think of a single reason why he lets you stick around.”

“Don’t hurt your brain trying to think.” Raga snarls.

“At least I have a brain. Unlike you.” Sioben fires back.

A hand appears and smacks into Sioben’s helmet and he goes toppling out of sight and Raga’s mother appears again. “Listen, I have to go. I’m a bit busy here. Say hi to Davarax from me. Be careful out there, Raga. Byebye.” The woman’s holo-image dissolves and she’s gone.

When Raga walks out of the room, Dulsissia reaches out and touches her shoulder. “I’m sorry, baby.”

“What for?” Raga asks with a huge grin. “Didn’t you hear that? She didn’t yell at me once!”

Dulsissia looks over at Davarax with a look of slight belief while the girl walks away, humming happily and he can only offer a weak shrug in return.

And on the subject of Paz and Raga...

While there are still sides to the Mandalorian culture that are still a mystery to her, Dulsissia remembers more than enough about what it was like to be a human a teenager to see what is happening there.

The two have been drawn together as friends since they were small children, as far as Dulsissia understands. They always gravitate towards each other. If you see one, odds are good that the other is nearby or about to appear. And Dulsissia feels both compassion and amusement as she sees the growing awkwardness as a different kind of attraction between them starts to enter the picture.

Dulsissia tries to hide her laughter when she sees Raga pretending to need a water break but only so she can let her gaze roam all over Paz as he continues his intense training next to her. Raga has always been climbing him like a jungle gym, but these days it brings a flush to her cheeks when he holds her close or play-wrestle with her, and Raga even smiles in her sleep the times she drowses off with her head resting on his chest. It’s a shame she seems unable to voice what she feels.

This leads to the seething anger in Raga’s eyes when Paz mindlessly flirt with the local girls and basks in their attention. An anger which causes her to pick fights with Din and the others, violent fights that always ends badly for at least one of them and Davarax has to patch them up while trying to calm Raga down.

At the same time, with a stealth worthy of admiration, Paz’ gaze discretely seeks out Raga with an interest and longing he doesn’t show any of the local girls desperately trying to hold his attention. His attention trail along her curves, he flushes at glimpses of her skin and it is kind of cute how he’s only happy if Raga is happy.

Unfortunately Paz seems too insecure, which is absurd, to actually show how her how he feels.

His temper is as bad as Raga’s, though, which causes Paz to one day actually punch a hole in a wall. He flat out refuses to explain why he’d done it, even when Davarax wraps up his bleeding hand and asks in a frustrated voice what is going on with him, but Dulsissia accidentally overheard earlier when Raga agreed to go out on a date with a suitor of her own and suspects that is why.

“I’m going to help them.” Dulsissia declares one morning after Raga had managed to draw both Din and Corin into a vicious brawl the previous evening, just after Paz had gone out to meet some girl.

Davarax grunts, half-asleep on his stomach with his face partly burrowed into the pillow. “They’ll figure it out eventually.”

She sends him, or his back to be more precise, a dry glance. “Are you kidding me? Those two? If someone doesn’t help them along, it’ll take yeeaars.”

Davarax snorts a laugh. “At your own peril, cyare.”

Dulsissia thinks about all her excellent work as a matchmaker back on Seswenna. That included family ranks, politics and enough credits to buy a minor planet. These are two teenagers. She’s got this.

It’s a delicate mission. First Dulsissia establishes through a little research that there is absolutely no doubt that these two feel the same and are just too emotionally constipated to do something about it, then she goes to work on them separately. Hints, questions and light nudges.

It takes a surprisingly short time for them to admit to her what she already knows, but neither is willing to make the first move.

“Why not go for it?” Dulsissia eventually asks..

“I don’t think he/she thinks of me that way…” Raga/Paz replies. Her face bright red as she half-heartedly trains defensive moves with Dulsissia one sun-soaked day. Him with quiet sadness when Dulsissia delivers some clean laundry to his room one evening.

“I think you’d be surprised.” Dulsissia teases and winks.

After that, they become a little braver. Instead of just friendly bickering, Raga and Paz both add a little intent and teasing to their interactions, and that eventually develop into outright flirting.

During training Davarax sends Dulsissia a dry look when Paz, instead of following through with his attack, merely keeps his hands against the wall, fencing in the grinning and uncharacteristically passive Raga and hovers there with a slight smirk of his own. Davarax rolls his eyes when Raga, after flipping Paz over and have him land on his back, simply straddles his stomach and pretends to hold him down with her hands on his shoulders instead of following through with her attack and Paz, also uncharacteristically passive, looks like he’s enjoying himself more than anything else.

Dulsissia regrets nothing.

Barthor is in heavy denial, Din wrinkles his nose and Corin is incredibly oblivious as Paz and Raga keep inching their way closer to what they both dream about having. They push things as far as they can go and then some, before one of them finally dares to cross the line...

Sitting next to each other on the stairs behind the big battle arena, Paz and Raga had decided to sneak outside the building instead of staying with the others to watch the final game. Usually they both live and breathe for such big fights, but for some reason it seemed more tempting to sneak off like this.

They sit in this dark back-alley, her shoulder bumping lightly against his upper arm, talking.

It’s silly. They see each other every day, they talk every day, and yet they struggle to look at the other right now. Words tumble a little awkwardly. Hearts thump hard.

Then there is a huge cheer from the crowd inside the arena and Paz looks over at Raga. She looks back over at him, and after a moment of hesitation, he cautiously leans towards her.

Raga’s eyes light up. Oh. But just as she lifts her chin a little to meet him, giving him an unspoken invite, Paz abruptly loses his courage and quickly withdraws to stare down at the ground again.

Raga exhales, disappointed. Suddenly her eyes flare with angry annoyance and she thumps her shoulder against his arm, and when he looks at her, she quickly leans over and presses a brief, hard kiss to his lips. After that, she’s the one to turn to stare at the ground while heat burns in her face.

Stunned, Paz stares at her. He stares for what feels like a small eternity, then he slowly reaches out his hand, touches by her jawline and eases her into facing him again. And that is when he finally has the courage to lean over, his fingers still resting on her skin, and ever so softly touches his lips to hers.

It’s a gentle, trying thing. Raga draws a shivering breath, her lips trembling a little as well but soon they move to meet his as he cautiously coaxes a response from her.

After a little while, Paz pulls back and scans her face for her response.

Raga grins.

That makes him smile as well.

Dulsissia is obnoxiously pleased. Declaring herself the matchmaking champion.

Davarax only regrets not stopping her when stolen kisses in secret between the two becomes public make-out sessions. Truth be told, he wouldn’t have minded if had taken yeeeaars before he had to see that.

But he draws the line of having to watch it in their house. Entering the living room and finding them at it again, Davarax kicks at the sofa, making them jump apart. “Tongues in separate mouths when I’m around. Not negotiable.”

Paz flushes deep red. Raga glares.

And Dulsissia wonders who she can match up next...

While Dulsissia’s stop on Seswenna had resulted in them having a nice amount of credits to use on their family, Davarax knows they won’t last forever and he’s too used to support his family to stop, so he takes on the occasional job. And it’s easier now than before Dulsissia came into his life.

It’s strange not be be constantly exhausted. It’s even stranger not to have nightmares any more but wake up in the mornings with a sigh of satisfaction or even a smile on his face.

His favourite jobs are the ones where Dulsissia joins him. She’s come far from the helpless beauty he’d met what feels like a lifetime ago. Now she’s a deadly beauty. And the sight of her in Mandalorian armor is the best bonus he’s ever gotten on a job.

This is an easy contract. Just head up to a damaged cargo ship floating just above the planet, pick up the shipment and bring it to the owner on the surface. It’s the rumours of pirates in the area that makes them want to hire a couple of Mandalorians.

The ship is where it’s supposed to be, there are no signs of pirates, and Davarax does the mistake of thinking this mission will go without a hitch. He and Dulsissia board the ship and walk towards the cargo hold to secure their target.

It is years of experience combined with quick reflexes that saves Davarax’ life when something drops from the ceiling in the hallway. He jolts backwards and sparks fly as something sharp slides across his breastplate. Davarax tries to lift his blaster to fire at his attacker, but a boot kicks his arm and the shot goes wide.

It becomes a wild dance of attacks launched at him, sparks flying again and again when his armor takes the brunt, and he frantically back-pedals to stay alive. A streak of yellow spins in front of him and Davarax gets his arm up just in time for the vibro blade to impale it instead of his throat. The pain rages through him and instinct makes Davarax turn to the best weapon he has in such a close encounter; a harsh kov’nyn.

His opponent collapses while he stumbles backwards and clutches his arm. The blade is still vibrating and sending waves of agony through him while tearing more of his flesh. He yanks it out, fighting back the intense urge to scream with pain, unable to respond right away despite hearing Dulsissia calling out his name in fear.

Once his eyes clears again, Davarax realizes Dulsissia is by his side and trying to make him let her look at his arm and he sees the crumpled shape on the floor.

A skinny Twi’lek youth around Raga’s age. Her skin under layers of dirt looks to be pale yellow, her clothes are rags and even unconscious she looks angry.

Well, that was unexpected.

“She’s just a kid.” Dulsissia whispers with quiet disbelief, wrapping his arm.

“I was too busy trying to keep her from cutting my throat to notice.” Davarax rumbles, twitching slightly when Dulsissia tightens the bandage. His heart softens. “I wonder what her story is...”

Her name is Zev’sonya and she’s anything but friendly. Sure, his own kids have a habit of baring their teeth every once in a while, even at him, but this one? She’s outright hostile and extremely dangerous. And while his kids’ trust in others has been severely damaged, hers is non-existent. Whatever her story might be, she’s not telling them anything beyond her being on her own.

Davarax has absolutely no idea how Dulsissia manages to persuade the girl to come with them.

It takes over a standard week to make her stop trying to kill and rob them. A lot longer for her to actually trust them, especially Davarax.

Zev’sonya and Raga end up in a fist-fight two minutes after the initial introduction. Paz watches her with some cautiousness but he’s not unfriendly. Barthor avoids her like the plague. Corin is terrified of her and claims she keeps stealing the blades in the house. (Dulsissia knows he’s right as she keeps retrieving them from the twi’lek’s room.)

The only one she instantly connects with is Din, who seems to share her way of communicating in as few words as possible and have no fear of her scowls.

They renew their rent on the house and Davarax recruits Din to help build a couple of sheds and do some repairs on it.

After a scorchingly hot day, emerging from the refresher room, Dulsissia saunters over to the big bed in their room where Davarax is reading something on his datapad. She crawls into the bed and rolls over to face him with a dramatic sigh. “Dav? Cyare?”

“Mmh?” He replies, not looking up from his datapad.

“I’m hungry…”

Davarax lowers the datapad and reaches out to run his hand gently over her hair. “What are you in the mood for?”

“There’s leftovers from dinner...”

She rarely asks him to bring her things because she knows he will stop whatever he’s doing and get it and she doesn’t want to abuse that kindness. But this is a special occasion. After he’s padded out of the room, she slides the medical scanner out of her pocket and places it on his side of the bed.

A few minutes later, Davarax comes back with two plates. “Food for my love. And I brought some sweets for dessert too. Might as well make it a proper meal when we’re dining in bed.” He hands her one of the plates with flourish.

She leans up and gives him a kiss, which he is very pleased to accept, and waits as he circles the bed to get in on his side.

Davarax frowns a little when he sees something in his way, reaches down and picks it up so he can settle in his spot again. “This yours?” He holds it out to her.

Sighing, Dulsissia fails to hold back a smile. “Look at it.”

He studies the device but the numbers on the screen doesn’t make sense to him. Davarax glances over at her again, now a little worried. “A medical scanner? You’re not sick, are you?”

She shakes her head, losing the battle against a bubbling laugh. “No. Look at it, silly.”

Davarax looks again. “I’m looking, but what am I supposed to…” Finally the information on the screen makes sense to him and what it means. His gaze snaps back at her. The plate in his other hand is completely forgotten. “Y-you’re…? Are you…?”

Taking a bite of her food, Dulsissia nods and her cheeks hurt from smiling so much. “I’m pregnant.” It’s almost funny how happy she is with this fact. After Corin was born, the mere thought of having another baby offended Dulsissia after she had come to realize that was the only reason why Macero wanted her. But that was in the past. Things are so very different now.

Davarax nearly drops his plate, only his quick reflexes prevents him from spilling it all over the bed. He cautiously, but as quickly as possible, places his plate on the night-stand so he can hold on to the medical scanner with both hands, reading the information once again. “You… You’re sure?”

“You’re looking at the evidence, mister. I scanned ten minutes ago.” She takes another bite, endlessly amused by the whirlwind of emotions visibly rushing through him. He keeps wobbling back and forth between intense happiness, paralysing fear and blind excitement. It is so painfully sweet to see how much he wants this. “Breathe, baby.” Dulsissia advices.

Davarax gulps down some air, then puts the scanner aside and turns all of his focus on her. “Are… are you okay? Do you need me to do anything? What do I do?”

Laughing a little, even more charmed by him being so uncharacteristically clumsy and helpless, Dulsissia glances over at him. “I thought Mandalorians were experts on children. They didn’t teach you about how this is going to work?”

Davarax hesitates and then he reaches out and touches her hand. “Sort of, but all I care about is what you need me to do. Weapons and flowers, remember?”

Dulsissia feels the usual wave of warmth and adoration when Davarax is his sweet self and she curls her fingers around his. “I remember. And we’ll work this out as well.”

That seems to reassure him and his shoulders relaxes a little. Enough so that she lets go of his hand and goes back to eating. Maybe it is just knowing she’s pregnant again that makes her so hungry, but at least it is a very valid excuse to indulge.

Davarax is silent. Too silent.

After a while, Dulsissia has to laugh again as she realizes what he’s doing. He’s staring at her stomach. “There is nothing noticeable going on there quite yet. It’s too early. You’re going to have to be patient for a while before things get exciting for you.”

Davarax gives a tiny shake of his head. “This is already one of the most exciting things I’ve ever been a part of.” He looks like he’s about to say something more but loses courage.

“What?” Dulsissia asks, taking another bite of her food.

“Can I…?” He lifts his hand a little in a mute request.

Stars above, she loves this man more than she thought was possible. Dulsissia lets out a soft laugh. “There’s nothing much to feel right now, like I said, but… if you want to, go ahead.”

Davarax inches closer, reaches out further and cautiously places his hand on her stomach, below her bellybutton. His hand is warm and so very careful and lingers there for a while. “Hey, you…” Davarax eventually says in a quiet voice, a little strained with emotion. “Welcome to the family.”

Dulsissia doesn’t make a sound as the first tears trail from her eyes, overwhelmed by how right this feels, how much she loves him and their unborn child and their beautiful family. This time, she knows, this time everything will be perfect.

When Dulsissia tells him, Corin is incredibly excited to become a big brother. Paz declares he’s mighty pleased their clan is growing, sounding like the adult he now looks like despite still not having enough years on his back to deserve that title in Dulsissia’s eyes, and the other Mandalorian youngsters eagerly agree with him. Davarax looks a little awkward when they start talking about how they can create a Covert of their own at the pace their clan is growing.

Half an eternity later, when the evening comes where she feels the first barely noticeable change, Dulsissia calls Davarax over and slides his hand over her stomach. She feels him shiver and he looks at her with breathless awe. She has to laugh and then kisses that look off his face.

A little over six standard weeks after that, Davarax feels the first curving before she notices herself, on a sleepy morning when he, as usual, runs his hand over her stomach.

Corin and the other boys hover near her with innocent curiosity and watch the development with bright fascination, while Raga and Zev’sonya stay a little more in the back and observe with cautious interest.

When Dulsissia really starts showing, that is the point where Davarax’ self-control starts slipping. He has tried his hardest to act normal, yet now he becomes downright clingy. Others might have gotten a bit annoyed with the man’s behaviour, but Dulsissia knows the sadness of going through this with someone who doesn’t care, who can’t even bother to be there, so she happily suffers through his tactile presence.

Dulsissia even has to hide tears one evening when he inches close, runs his hand over her stomach yet again and softly hums a Mandalorian lullaby to their restless child.

Then she gets even bigger and Dulsissia realizes she’d forgotten this part. She gets grouchy, her feet aches, her back aches, everything aches, she has to pee all the time, she can barely get up if she does the mistake of sitting down, she can’t sleep like she wants to, and Dulsissia decides the thought of delivering the child isn’t all that bad if she can just get back to normal, please!

It is all worth it when the time comes after seven hours of hard work and sweet, sweet pain killers, and Dulsissia gets to meet her daughter as she’s placed in her arms.

She is absolutely beautiful and perfect in every way and so very, very loved!

Looking up at Davarax by her side, Dulsissia is both crying and laughing at once. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Davarax, pale as a sheet, nods with a look of awe on his face.

Allowing herself another moment of holding their child, admiring her, kissing her, Dulsissia makes herself look up at Davarax again. “You want to hold her?”

To her surprise, he hesitates and looks like he’s about to take a step away. Catching himself, Davarax remains where he is and tries to remember how to speak. “I… Are you sure?”

Laughing a little, Dulsissia is far too exhausted to untangle the mystery of his mind at the moment. “Of course I’m sure. She’s your daughter too.”

“It’s just…” Davarax reaches out a cautious hand only to withdraw it before he can actually touch the wailing baby. “I don’t know how. I mean, I don’t want to hurt her. I-I’ve never held a baby before. She’s so tiny, Dulcy.”

“She’s tougher than you think.” Dulsissia replies, then turns a little to make it easier for him to pick up the baby. “Support her head, careful with the neck, like that, yeah… Perfect.” She leans back, exhausted and strangely enough a bit hungry, but for the time being she is satisfied to just take in the sight of her husband and their child connecting.

“Hello, ik’aad.” Davarax looks nervous, awkward and absolutely devastated by the intense adoration he feels for the still screaming bundle in his arms. The baby really do look tiny in his embrace, fragile even, but that doesn’t prevent her from aimlessly raising her tiny fist in what looks to be a threat.

Mandokarla from the birth.

Dulsissia sees how tears well up in Davarax’ eyes and he leans down to place a feather-light kiss on the baby’s head.

Corin is staring wide-eyed at the baby and eagerly reaches out when his mother eases her over into his arms.

“Say hello to your new sister.” Dulsissia says in a quiet voice, hoping not to wake the sleeping baby.

Din hovers over Corin’s right shoulder and reaches out to ever so gently run his fingers over the dark tufts of hair on her head. “She’s cute.”

“So tiny…” Paz observes, hovering over Corin’s left shoulder, sounding a bit worried.

“She’ll get bigger, idiot.” Barthor mutters, tilting his helmet as he studies the baby too.

“Are… are you okay?” Raga asks Dulsissia while the boys block the view to the new arrival.

Smiling, reaching out a hand and curling her fingers around Raga’s when she takes it, Dulsissia gives her a reassuring nod. “I’m fine, baby. Corin gave me a lot more trouble than this one.”

Corin blinks and looks up to focus on her for a moment. “I did?”

Dulsissia nods. “Yeah, you were not inclined to come out to greet the world. It took over two days to persuade you.”

“Two days?” Raga blurts out, with no small amount of horror.

“It sounds worse than it was.” Dulsissia reassures her. “Without the pain meds I’m sure it would have been a nightmare, but with them, it’s mostly just uncomfortable and boring.”

“Two days and you still decided to have another child?” Davarax asks from where he is hovering in the background.

“Well, yeah.” Dulsissia shrugs. The amount of joy her son has given her was well worth it. And without him she would never have broken free from her golden cage, so, no, she had not hesitated to do it all over again. Her daughter is already worth it too. “Zev. Baby. Come say hello. Don’t just hide over there.” She waves the Twi’lek over and fails to see everyone there stare at her with the kind of awe saved for the most impressive of Mandalorian warriors.

They call the baby Nemi.

#the mandalorian his son and the storm trooper #What If #Dulsissia Motti #Davarax #Teenage Corin #Fearsome Four #Mandorin AU

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