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theostrophywife · 11 months ago

Text

green with envy.

pairing: theodore nott x reader.

request: omg i need more of theo x reader with a hint of flirty draco

song inspiration: jealous by nick jonas.

author's note: ask and you shall receive. here's draco scheming to make theo jealous, which we all know won't end well. happy new year's my loves. we're staring 2024 off with a bang 😉

“Merlin, they can’t possibly be serious.” Draco muttered in disbelief. “Those two truly aren’t fooling anyone.”

Blaise glanced up from his book, searching for the cause of Malfoy’s offense. The Three Broomsticks was packed, but it wasn’t hard to spot the reason for his friend’s griping. Tucked into a secluded corner of the tavern, you and Theo gravitated towards each other like magnets, leaning into one another, foreheads pressed together, talking and laughing like you were the only people in the world.

It had been this way ever since Blaise could remember.

As always, Theo wore that stupid love-struck expression on his face as he listened to you talk, chuckling softly as you waved your arms around animatedly. You, on the other hand, seemed completely oblivious to the pining and yearning coming from Nott’s end. Anyone with an ounce of common sense could see that Theo was clearly in love with you, yet you remained blind to his affections.

“They’ve made it very clear that they’re just friends,” Blaise replied, repeating the same tired words that you and Theodore declared over and over again over the course of your friendship.

“And you believe them?”

“Of course not.” Blaise affirmed as he flipped through the pages of his book once more. “But who am I to burst their blissful bubble of ignorance?”

“They’re clearly in denial,” Draco remarked, watching intently as you picked a nonexistent piece of lint off of Theo’s quidditch sweater. “It’s been seven years of this pathetic teetering between will they or won’t they territory. I can’t stomach another day of it, Blaise. Someone needs to do something.”

“Whatever half-arsed plan you’ve cooked up in that ferret brain of yours, I want no part in it.”

Draco tapped his fingers against the wooden table, a familiar smirk curving at his lips. Blaise sighed in exasperation. He knew that look. He hated that look. It usually meant that Malfoy was hatching a scheme that spelled nothing but trouble for Blaise.

“I’m serious, Draco.” Blaise said in a stern voice.

“So am I,” the blonde replied. “Those two need a push and I’m more than willing to provide it for them.”

“I already know that I’m going to regret asking, but what exactly are you planning?”

Draco smirked. Blaise swore to Salazar that there was an evil gleam in his friend’s eyes as he turned over to face him. “I’m going to flirt with Y/N.”

“Are you mental?” Blaise exclaimed. “Nott will send you to an early grave. Did you see what he did to Pucey for trying to chat Y/N up? Poor bastard had to eat his meals through a straw for weeks.”

“Then I guess it’s your job to prevent that from happening, Zabini.”

There were a million protests on Blaise’s lips. Everyone knew that Theo was overprotective of his best friend. It was an unspoken rule that you were off-limits and Blaise had seen first hand the consequences that befell anyone that dared to hit on you. It usually ended with someone in the infirmary and that someone was never Theo.

Draco was well aware of this fact as well, but he seemed to have a death wish. Before Blaise could stop him, Malfoy scooped two glasses of butterbeer from the counter and made his way over to you just as Theo excused himself for a smoke. You looked up just as Draco slipped into the booth, sliding beside you to take up the vacant spot your best friend left.

“Fancy seeing you here, Y/N.”

“Hi, Dray.” You greeted the blonde with a smile. “I didn’t know you were here, too.”

“How could you?” He drawled playfully. “Theodore seems content keeping you all to himself.”

You rolled your eyes fondly. “You could’ve easily just come over to join us.”

“That’s exactly what I’m doing, darling.” Draco set a mug of ice cold butterbeer down in front of you. “And I brought your favorite.”

“How sweet of you.” You beamed, totally unaware of his schemes as you clinked your glass against his. “Cheers, Draco.”

“Cheers, Y/N.”

The sweetness of the butterbeer lingered on your tongue and the foam rested on your upper lip as you savored the taste. Your tongue peeked out, trying to lick the remnants away. Silver eyes flashed mischievously as he clocked the action, a smirk curling against his lips.

“Here, let me.” Draco brushed his thumb over your upper lip, wiping away the foam with ease. His fingers were soft and featherlight and nothing like the calloused feel of Theo’s hands.

Your best friend had a bad habit of burning his fingertips from the countless blunts and cigarettes he smoked. Despite the fact that you offered to heal them with magic, Theo always refused. He said it made him more manly. Though you rolled your eyes at him, you found that you didn’t really mind his scars and calluses. It only made him that much more endearing. Why you were thinking of Theo while another man was touching you, you had no idea. Or perhaps you did and you were just in deep, deep denial about it.

“Have I lost you, love?”

With a blink, you found yourself staring back at Malfoy. “Sorry, Draco. What were you saying?”

“I asked if you were using a new shampoo,” said your friend. He twirled a strand of your hair between his fingers, using the ends to tickle your cheek. “Your hair smells divine.”

You paused, narrowing your eyes at Draco. “What are you doing, Dray?”

“I’m not doing anything.”

“You’re up to something.”

That much was obvious to you. Years of friendship told you just as much. Draco was currently plotting something. Before you could question him further, a shadow loomed over the both of you. When Theo had left for his smoke break, he was carefree and grinning, but now tension colored your best friend’s features. As he glared down at Draco, Theo clenched his jaw and balled his fists at his side.

“Keep your hands to yourself, Malfoy.”

“Teddy, he was just helping me with—“

“Draco doesn’t need to help you with anything.” Theo’s eyes flashed with anger, the blues and greens of his irises turning stormy as his gaze dropped to the lock of hair tangled through Draco’s fingers. “What he needs is to walk away before I break his fucking jaw.”

Draco raised his palms up. “I don’t want any trouble, Nott.”

Despite his statement, you sensed that trouble was exactly what Draco was aiming for. Instead of walking away like he should’ve, Malfoy leaned over and kissed your cheek in parting, which only further incensed Theo. If you hadn’t grabbed hold of the end of his coat, Theo would’ve hurled himself at Draco and punched the cocky smirk off of your friend’s face.

You tugged at Theo and placed yourself between him and Draco, watching as the blonde returned to the table Blaise was currently sitting at. For good measure, he winked at the two of you as though Theo wasn’t already pissed enough as it was.

“What the hell’s gotten into you?” Theo’s gaze flickered back to you, his eyes darkening as they met yours.

“Why the fuck are you letting him touch you like that?”

The bite in his voice puzzled you. Theo never snapped at you, so you weren’t quite sure how to react. He almost sounded…jealous. Not that Theo had any reason to be. Right?

“What are you on about? Draco was literally just wiping the foam off of my mouth. It’s not a big deal.”

Downplaying the interaction seemed to rile Theo up even further. “Yes it fucking is,” he gritted out. “He’s flirting with you, Y/N. How can you not see that?”

The accusation of Draco Malfoy flirting with you was entirely laughable. Though you were accustomed to Theo’s overzealous tendencies, you usually didn’t mind his overprotectiveness since it deterred creepy guys from making advances towards you. But this was Draco, for Godric’s sake. You’ve known each other since you were in diapers. There was no way in hell he was actually trying to make a move on you.

“You’re being ridiculous, Teddy. Malfoy was not flirting with me.”

“Of course he was! Did you not see the way he looked at you? The bloody git was all over you, playing with your hair, touching your lips. I should his bash his fucking head in for even glancing in your direction.“

The rest of Theo’s rant was incoherent, a mixture between English and Italian curses that drew the attention of those around you. With a grimace, you tugged Theo towards the back of the Three Broomsticks. He continued swearing as you led him away, dead eyes filled with fury as you ushered him into the bathroom.

There was a murderous expression on his face as he spewed threats and curses. You locked the door behind you, sighing as you surveyed the angry boy before you. Knowing Theo, his constant ranting would only fuel the fire of his anger. You needed to calm him down before he made good on his promise to pummel Draco into the ground.

Unfortunately, Theo had already worked himself up to a fit. A frown was evident on his face, his knuckles turning white as he clenched his fists, the veins on his forearms protruding as violence threatened to spill over. You said his name a few times, but he didn’t seem to hear you. He was too angry to take notice.

While dealing with an angry Theo was by no means a new occurrence for you, it seemed harder to pull him out of it this time. You had never seen him this furious. A small part of you was mad at his overreaction, but another part of you was oddly flattered that he cared so much.

Perhaps it was foolish to do so, but you relished in the fact that such a small action could elicit such a response from him. If you didn’t know any better, you would’ve surmised that Theo was acting out of jealousy. His possessive behavior had always given you a strange sort of thrill. It made you feel wanted, it made you feel desired, and that in itself was more dangerous than any drug.

“Theodore.”

Theo paced back and forth, contemplating acts of violence against one of his oldest and closest friends.

“Theo.”

He wondered how much trouble he’d get into for beating Draco into a bloody pulp. Would they suspend him? Theo reckoned it would be worth it.

“Teddy.”

The sight of Draco brushing foam off of your lips flashed through his mind again, playing on a torturous loop. Malfoy didn’t get to touch you like that. No one got to touch you like that. At least not without Theo breaking every bone in their hand.

“Oh for Salazar’s fucking sake.”

You grabbed the front of Theo’s sweater and dragged him down to your level. There was absolutely no thought process behind your actions besides stopping his rant. With your lips pressed firmly against his, you accomplished just that. Theo froze for a second, his eyes fluttering close as you kissed him. The tension left his body, his anger melting away to give room for a different sort of heat to spread through him.

The minute his body language changed, you pulled away. Theo looked down at you, his dead eyes burning with searing passion. You felt his gaze piercing right through you. There was danger lurking within him. Like he was the predator and you were the prey. You’ve never seen him look like that before. Theo looked…feral. Theo looked hungry.

“I’m sorry, Teddy. I was just trying to calm you down—”

You reeled back as Theo cupped your face in his hands and smashed your lips together once more. This time, there was no surprise in the kiss. There was just fervent passion, arduous desire, and mutual destruction between you. Theo didn’t kiss you like he wanted you. He kissed you like he needed you.

As he pinned you against the wall, Theo gripped your hips and pressed his body against yours. The kisses grew sloppy and desperate, the two of you scrabbling for more. You groaned as his erection brushed against your thigh, leaving him the perfect opening to slide his tongue past the seam of your lips. You were vaguely aware of banging into the pictures on the walls, the sound of them clattering to the ground registering somewhere in the back of your mind.

The two of you were like a tornado, knocking decor and toiletries around as you continued to sloppily make out. You were sure that you were making enough noise to alert the whole tavern. Yet you couldn’t bring yourself to care as Theo bit down on your bottom lip. You moaned into his mouth as he set you down on the counter. One hand gripped your throat while the other slipped underneath your skirt.

Theo dragged you closer by your thighs, wrapping your legs around his waist as he grinded his hardness against your throbbing core.

“Malfoy couldn’t touch you like this, bella.” The low rasp of his voice sent shivers down your spine. His hold on you was possessive and utterly fucking sexy. Heat rushed between your thighs as his fingers tightened around your throat. “Only I can touch you like this. Do you understand, dolcezza?”

“Yes,” you answered breathlessly. “It’s you, Teddy. Only you.”

Pleased with your response, Theo smirked as he ripped off your tights. Your eyes nearly rolled to the back of your head when he rubbed his hand against your clothed sex. He palmed you through your panties, swearing when he felt how wet you were for him.

“You’re fucking mine,” he growled against your ear while he slid your panties to the side and teased along your folds. Slender fingers curled inside of you, eliciting a filthy moan that echoed through the walls. “This is all for me.”

Watercolour eyes seized the breath from your lungs. The declaration hung in the air with finality. There was no room for question or doubt. Theo was merely stating the truth.

You were his. You always have been.

Theo withdrew his hand, fingers dripping with your arousal. He refused to break eye contact as he stuck them into his mouth, licking each digit clean.

You whimpered, pulling him in by his belt loop. He moaned as you impatiently tugged his jeans down, palming him through his boxers. He felt big. Bigger than you’ve ever had before.

But you wanted it. You wanted him.

“I need you, Theo. Please.”

“I’m yours, Y/N.” Theo panted into your mouth as you released his cock from the constraints of his boxers. “Always.”

You swallowed thickly as you looked down at his impressive size. His cock was hard and throbbing in your hands, precum leaking from the tip. Theo was massive. You had no idea how he was going to fit. Still, the challenge thrilled you.

Spreading your legs open, you bit your lip as Theo positioned the head of his cock at your entrance. He kissed your lips sweetly before pulling back and nuzzling his nose against yours.

“Deep breaths, baby.” You nodded, inhaling and exhaling as he pushed the tip in. “You’re so tight. Gonna let me stretch you wide open, bella?”

Tears pricked at your eyes as he breached your walls, stretching you just between the line of pain and pleasure. “You’re so big, Theo. I don't—I don't know if it’s going to fit.”

“We’ll make it fit, Y/N,” he promised, pushing further in and groaning as your walls hugged tightly around him. “Just like that. You’re doing so well, sweetheart.”

Once Theo was fully sheathed inside of you, his movements stilled. He caressed your cheek and pecked your lips. “Can I move, baby?”

“Yes,” you exhaled.

“Good girl.”

You fluttered at his words and Theo cursed as your walls gripped him like a vice. “Fuck, pretty pussy’s squeezing me so tight. You drive me fucking insane, you know that? I get so jealous of anyone who even looks at you.”

“I like when you get jealous,” you admitted, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “You’re sexy when you’re angry.”

Theo flipped you over so that you were facing the mirror. As you gripped the marble countertop, he thrusted sharply inside of you and watched as your face contorted into pleasure. Whispering praises into your ear, Theo picked up the pace. He intertwined your fingers together and placed each palm against the mirror.

“Open your eyes, bella. I want you to watch while I ruin you.”

Your eyes snapped to your reflection, taking in your flushed cheeks and mussed hair. Behind you, Theo fucked into you with a punishing pace. He groaned as he watched himself slide in and out of you, relishing at the perfect fit. It was like you were made for him. As your moans grew louder, Theo stuffed his fingers down your throat and gagged you.

“God, fuck.” Theo hissed, his eyes meeting yours in the reflection. “Harder, baby. You can take it. Let me fuck out my frustrations.”

“You. Belong. To. Me.”

Theo punctuated every word with a thrust, hitting the sweet spot within your walls with each rut.

“I’m yours, Teddy.” You said breathlessly. “All yours.”

He smiled, placing a tender kiss against your neck as his fingers slipped between your legs. Theo rubbed at your clit, urging you closer and closer to your orgasm.

“Are you close, principessa? I can feel you squeezing me, milking me dry. Take it all, dolcezza. You’re mine, but I’m yours too.”

“My hands are yours.” Theo squeezed your tits, flicking his thumb over your nipples.

“My lips are yours.” He angled your chin towards him, claiming your mouth with open mouthed kisses.

“My cock is yours.” He drove deeper inside of you, making you arch as you cried out his name.

Theo swallowed your moans before capturing your lips with his. “My heart is yours, too.”

“It’s all yours, Y/N.”

Your heart squeezed at his declaration. Nothing had ever sounded more beautiful than Theo pledging every part of himself to you.

“Oh god. Fuck, Theo. Please. I’m gonna cum.”

“Cum for me, bella.”

Stars dotted your vision as the orgasm rocked through your body. Theo kissed your neck, marking his territory, while you squeezed around him. The heat of his touch seared your skin as he held you. If it weren’t for his strong arms wrapped around you, you would’ve collapsed.

“So fucking perfect,” Theo said between pants. “My beautiful girl.”

Your name tumbled off of Theo’s lips as he came. It was the sweetest sound you’ve ever heard. Coming from the most beautiful boy you’ve ever seen.

The two of you slid down to the floor. Theo wrapped an arm around you, cheeks red and hair disheveled. His pretty eyes fluttered open as he traced over the hickies and bruises he’d left on your body, admiring each mark gently. With his brows scrunched with concern, he brushed a thumb over the bite mark on your shoulder.

“Was I too rough?” Theo whispered, kissing over the spot. “Did I hurt you, Y/N?”

You smiled at his gentleness, smoothing at the worry lines creasing his forehead. “No, it was perfect. God, you're fucking hot when you're jealous.”

Theo chuckled, kissing the inside of your wrist. The playfulness in his expression faltered as concern and hesitation bled through. “Did you—I mean, fuck, did you enjoy it? I didn’t—you still want to be my friend, right?”

“No.”

Theo felt his heart drop down to his stomach. He’d fucked it up. The one good thing in his life and he’d fucked it up. You brushed your fingers over his cheekbones, tilting his chin so that you were face to face.

“I want to be so much more than just your friend, Teddy.” The sigh of relief that he released made you grin. You leaned in, giving him a soft peck on the lips. “My heart is yours, too. It’s always been yours.”

The weight of his smile made your heart ache. “Now that you know how I feel, there’s no need to be jealous anymore.”

“Are you kidding? I’m going to be even more insufferable now. I need everyone to know that you’re mine.”

“They already know, Teddy. We were the only ones living in denial.”

“We made it pretty damn obvious, didn’t we?”

“You threatened every guy who dared to even look at me.”

“Please,” Theo started, a smile tugging at his lips. “I saw the dirty looks you gave to the girls who tried to flirt with me.”

You chuckled. “Okay, so maybe we’re both a little…”

“Possessive? Obsessed? Head over heels insane for each other?”

“All of the above.” You declared, tugging at his hand. “Now come on, Teddy. Before someone figures out what we were really doing in here.”

“I think they know, love.” Theo teased. “You were pretty loud.”

“Like you weren’t loud yourself, Nott.”

You rolled your eyes fondly as he helped you up. Theo straightened your skirt and smoothed your hair down, kissing your temple. He reached for the doorknob with one hand and linked his fingers with yours with the other.

Fortunately, there weren’t too many people waiting for the loo. You would’ve been embarrassed to walk out together hand in hand, but Theo made sure that every set of prying eyes quickly found something else to look at. With a cheeky grin, he lifted your knuckles to his lips and placed a lingering kiss upon your skin.

As you walked out into the main hall, a wolf-whistle rang out from one of the tables. Draco raised a toast in your direction while Blaise shook his head.

“Can’t believe that half-arsed plan of yours actually worked,” Zabini said.

Theo furrowed his brows. “What plan?”

“The one where Malfoy flirts with Y/N in an attempt to make you jealous.”

“I knew you were up to something,” you said with narrowed eyes. “What an idiotic plan.”

“Is it idiotic if it worked?”

Theo shook his head in disbelief. “You’re mental, Malfoy. I truly considered tearing you to pieces.”

“You’re welcome,” Draco said with a smirk. “Clearly that jealousy was put to good use.”

The blonde winked at you, making Theo’s fingers tighten around yours. “Oh, Teddy’s going to kill you. This time, I have no plans of stopping him.”

Draco’s silver eyes widened as you released Theo. “Zabini? A little help here?”

“I’d start running if I were you, Malfoy.”

Without hesitation, Draco bolted out the door. You snickered as the blonde disappeared down the snowy street, his platinum blonde head bobbing through the crowd. To his credit, Theo gave him a proper head start.

“I’ll be right back, dolcezza.”

“Don’t be gone too long, Teddy.” Theo smiled, leaning in to press a soft kiss on your lips. “And try not to hurt Draco too badly, yeah?”

Despite his pout, Theo nodded as you tugged him down for a proper kiss. He smiled against your lips before peppering kisses on your nose and cheeks.

“Fine, but only because you asked nicely, principessa.”

You smiled, watching as Theo chased after Draco. Beside you, Blaise grinned.

“It’s about damn time.”

With a flush, you rolled your eyes at your friend. “Oh shut it, Zabini.”

TAGLIST

@annaisabookworm @marina468 @yaraasthings @the0doreslover @bubybubsters @moony-artemis @natasha887 @lucyysthings @criesinlies @bunnymallowo @niktwazny303 @letmedownslows @siriuslyalovergirl @wordsarelife @clairesjointshurt @daydreamingabthar@moonflowersandsparkles

#jealous theo makes me want to chomp on dry wall <3 #theo nott #theodore nott #theo nott x reader #theo nott smut #theo nott x you #theo nott x y/n #theo nott imagine #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x you #theodore nott smut #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott x y/n

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erwinsvow · 10 months ago

Text

𝐬𝐮𝐢𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥

summary: you were a pogue, and now you're a kook. just like how once you were no one's, and now you're rafe cameron's.

author's note: here it is!!! imagine like s1 rafe with the s2 hair, and basically just having a former-pogue girlfriend through out the whole season. i just think rafe would actually be such a good boyf, he just needs someone to settle him down when he gets a lil crazy. follows the sequence of s1 until about 3/4ths down, where i just started making stuff up. you might read this & think no one would act like this.. and that's fine, i know they wouldn't, but this is a self indulgent story for rafe <3 part 2 of the other seasons maybe? enjoy!!

now spinning: black beauty by lana del rey (soooooo rafe coded! he just needs a hug and some pussy!)

word count: 13.5k

warnings/tags: wheeze is a toddler for no reason. reader isn't the biggest fan of the pogues at this point in time. smut: oral (f receiving), fingering, degregation, use of daddy, rafe calls reader kid because <3, lemme know if i forgot something!

“So that’s it? Really? Your mom is marrying a Kook and you’re moving across the island… just like that?” John B speaks to you as if you had any choice in the matter. You look at him sadly, but you’ve cried so much the last few days, it’s hard to find any more tears.

You want to tell him, want to explain everything. The way your mom has been so lonely for years, ever since your dad passed away. The way she would pull double-shifts every week just to make sure you had the nice, trendy shoes and hot dinner every night. The way you grew up in the cut but it never felt any different than growing up in figure eight, because she took care of you.

And now it was your turn, to take care of her. Blake Richards was rich, and he wanted to take care of your mom, which meant for the first time in a long time, she would be the one being taken care of. And you owed that to her, you owed that much.

“I-I don’t really have a choice, John B. I mean, this is my mom. And she’s getting her chance to be happy. I can’t ruin it for her.”

“Yeah, I get all that but, like, does this mean you’re gonna go full-Kook on us? Because I think that would just be disturbing,” JJ says, and you crack a smile, even as you feel a tear spill down your cheek.

“I don’t think I could ever go full-Kook.” It comes out quietly, a notch above a whisper.

“Hey, hey,” you hear John’s voice again, as he stands up to get closer to you. You feel embarrassed, the way your cheeks flush and heat up when he’s only a few inches away from you. He wipes the tear away with his thumb. “No crying, okay? Nothing has to change.”

The way he says it, you almost believe him.

“Right,” you say, still quiet. There’s a sob stuck behind your throat, and you don’t want the boys to know how upset you really are. You’ve stitched up these boys more times than you can count, set shoulders and bones and nursed bruises for them. “Nothing has to change,” you repeat, trying to convince yourself. Everything was about to change, starting with your relationship with them.

And that’s the one thing you wish could stay the same. Deep down, no matter how many times you were teased and laughed with, there was a part of you, buried away, that thought you would end up with one of these boys one day. Sweet John, funny JJ, smart Pope. Well, maybe not Pope. You’ve seen the way he stares at Kie, even when no one else notices.

But John and JJ, the possibility of being with one of them always lingered in the air. Even when they’re flirting with tourists or cracking so-called boy jokes that you just wouldn’t understand, you always thought they were your endgame.

If only you knew.

Pope and Kiara drive up, just as you’re wiping away another tear. You’re dreading repeating everything to them, shedding more tears.

౨ৎ

“Who is that?” Topper asks, eyeing some girl entering the club. Rafe was getting sick of Topper crying over every pretty girl he saw on the street when he was supposedly dating his sister. He hardly cared about Sarah, daddy’s favorite, but that was his family, and he wouldn’t tolerate disrespect to his family.

“She must be fresh meat,” Kelce says, “I’ve never seen her before.”

“Tourist?” Topper questions. Rafe downs the rest of his drink.

“Nah, man, see that guy ahead of her? That’s Blake Richards. My dad works with him, he’s a big finance guy. He’s a widower, but I guess not anymore.”

“Step-daughter? Jesus,” Topper says. “It’s like a cheesy porno. But I wouldn’t be surprised if he married her mom to tap that, I mean-”

“Enough,” Rafe snaps. “Shouldn’t you be in a fight with my sister?” Topper blanches.

“I mean, look at her Rafe. That is something special,” Kelce says, and then finally, Rafe lifts his head to look at you.

You look… confused. Your head is turning, taking in everything about the club, like you’d never been there before. A waiter comes up to your family with tall glasses of water, little pieces of cucumber and lemon floating around in them with ice cubes. Richards—your step-father—takes a glass and hands it to a woman who can only be your mother, with the same hair and complexion. Before he can take a glass to hand to you, you take it from the tray yourself, smiling and saying thank you. The waiter, some teenage Pogue, blushes at your affection.

When you start walking, continuing the tour, the waiter turns to look at you walk away, gawking like men do when they see something pretty. Rafe feels an overwhelming urge to punch the kid, and cover you up with his jacket.

You’re not in anything too immodest, compared to what he’s seeing girls at the club walking around in, but it feels like it’s too much for the leering eyes that follow you. Your jean skirt comes down a little less than half-way to your thighs. Your shirt is white, with puffy sleeves and little buttons that tighten around the chest.

He sees a glimpse of cleavage, which makes his chest tighten uncomfortably, not in the way he’s used to when he sees a pretty girl. He wants to take his shirt off his back and slide it onto you, buttoning it up all the way and making sure no one else looks at you the way he’s looking at you right now.

“Rafe?” his friend calls, and he’s not sure which one. In your glancing, you turn towards Rafe and you lock eyes for a second. You must have noticed him staring. You probably think he’s crazy, but he doesn’t seem to care much at the moment. Your mother must have beckoned you, because you turn away in a second, walking towards the older couple, trailing behind them again.

“Be right back,” he says, leaving a confused Topper and Kelce behind him at the table. He cuts through the tables near the bar, entering the walkway where your family is already, but coming out of the other end. He gets there just in time to run into Richards, who’s leading the little group.

“Hi, Mr. Richards, right?” he says, holding his hand out. “Rafe Cameron.”

“Oh, Rafe, hi,” the older man replies, shaking his hand. Rafe grips hard, making sure Richards doesn’t think he has a wimpy handshake. Otherwise he’s never gonna agree to what Rafe has in mind. “I haven’t seen you in years, I mean you were half your height last time I was over at Tannyhill.”

“Crazy, right? Well I just wanted to say hi since I ran into you. How’s, uh Benny and Brax?”

“I can’t believe you remember them, they haven’t been to Kildare in years. They’re good, yeah, Benny’s in California now, and Brax is out at law school, at Oxford.”

“Oh yeah, international law, right?”

“Yeah,” Richards says, smiling wide. “You’ve got quite a memory, son, I’ll have to tell Rafe when I see him.”

“Oh yeah, he’s around here somewhere.” Then, he makes his move. He turns his gaze to your mom first. He thinks about it briefly, but if he addresses you before her, your mom will be on guard. He knows how their minds work. “I don’t believe we’ve met before, I’m Rafe,” and he shakes your mom’s hand, but turns back to Richards for the introduction—something else in his little cheat-sheet of rules. Let dad do the talking, so he feels like he’s in control.

“Rafe, this is my wife, Anna-”

“Nice to meet you, Rafe,” your mom smiles at him sweetly, and he smiles back.

“-and my step-daughter.” You smile, and hold your hand out. He shakes your hand, gently, and looks at your face, because he can tell the smile is forced. He wonders why.

“Nice to meet you.” he says, and you smile that forced way again.

“You too, Rafe.” You let go of his hand, and it’s good, because if he held on any longer, the adults would get suspicious.

“First time here?” he questions, still looking at you.

“Yes,” your mother answers, laughing, if not a little uncomfortably. “Is it that obvious?”

“Nah, it’s a lot to take in, I remember that much.” Richards smiles at him, almost beaming. He knows Rafe has been coming here since he could walk. That means the old man appreciates him trying to comfort his new family. Another step closer.

“It is,” Anna says, looking at her daughter. She has those worried eyes, the one Ward’s new wife won’t stop looking at him with.

“Well, it’s the perfect place to be all summer. I mean, pretty much everyone our age is at the pool or the courts.” At his mention of the both of you, you look up from staring at your shoes quickly to looking right at him. He smiles. You don’t smile back.

“Really?” Richards asks, still openly friendly.

“I mean yeah, Mister R, I remember Benny on the golf course, like, everyday. And Brax, I mean he practically taught half of us how to swim.” Richards nods and laughs, continuing small talk about his sons. Rafe sneaks another glance at you, and you look back knowingly, like you can smell his intentions from a mile away.

“Honey?” your mom asks quietly. “Do you wanna go with Rafe?”

“What?” you reply quickly, surprised. You weren’t listening, and he tries hard not to laugh.

“Well, I can take you ‘round, introduce you to everyone. I’ll finish the tour if you and Mrs. Richards are heading up to the course?” He nods at the golf clothes your parents have on, that you are lacking.

“I think that sounds great, right, honey?” Anna presses, and after you lock eyes with her, you nod in agreement.

“Yeah, sure,” you say quietly. Rafe smiles again.

“Great, great, yeah. Well, it was great to see you Mister R. Missus R.”

“Thank you, Rafe. Kiddo, you can ask for the car to go home when you’re ready, okay? Your mother and I are going to get dinner here.” Anna looks up confused, probably wondering how they’ll get back.

“I’ll call someone to bring the car back, honey,” he explains, and your mom smiles.

“I can also take her back,” Rafe interjects. “Tannyhill is the same direction, and I’m headed back anyways. If you wanna leave the car here.”

“Really, Rafe, that would be great, thank you.” You look even angrier than before, but the plastic smile spread over your face doesn’t faze them.

“Right, thanks, Blake. Bye mom,” you say, and then lean over to kiss her on the cheek.

You watch them walk away, chewing your cheek and turning back to Rafe with anger splashed all over your pretty features.

“I can’t believe that worked on them,” you tell him quietly, smiling when your mom turns back to look at you before they turn the corner. Your parents were too gullible sometimes.

“Yeah, me either, kid.”

“Don’t call me that,” you reply right away. “And despite what you think, I’m not touring this place with you. I’m probably never coming back here after today.” You start walking away, in the opposite direction of your parents, when he chases behind you.

“Y’know, I don’t get you. Every girl your age lounges around here all day, and everyone else wishes they could.”

“Well, you know what they say,” you start, smiling sweetly, though he sees through it again. “Idle hands are the devil’s workshop.”

“Really?” he shrugs. “Never heard that before.”

“Yeah, you wouldn’t have.”

“Come on, you’re not even giving me a chance. You don’t even know me.” You laugh at that.

“Yes, I do, Rafe, you just don’t recognize me.” You continue your brisk pace, looking for the exit and getting closer. He reaches out to grab your forearm, holding you back for a second. He guides you into the corner, between the hallway where there’s no one else around.

“Yeah, that so?” Rafe is almost caging you in. He’s so close you can smell his cologne and the scotch on his lips.

“I’m from Kildare, Rafe.” You try to break free of his grip, but it proves even harder than you thought. He holds you in place without even breaking a sweat.

“No, no, no, because I know every pretty girl in Kildare. And you’ve definitely never been here before, so-”

“Really? Even the ones from the cut?” You thought that would be enough to get him to drop your arm, but he doesn’t budge.

“Huh. So that’s why you’ve never been here. Old Man Richards married a Pogue and made her daughter into a Kook? Did I get that right?”

“I’m not a Kook,” you say, squirming, because you still don’t want to be trapped by him. His cologne smells good, your mind wanders and thinks, like ocean air and sandalwood. You snap out of it at once.

“Not yet, you’re not.”

“I’m not going to be, either. A little money isn’t going to change anything for me.”

“Yeah, yeah, kid. That’s what everyone says, ‘til it does.”

“Rafe, let go of me, I said let go-” And he does let go, quickly, and your arm falls. Faint red marks appeared when he was holding on, what can only be a bruise tomorrow. He’s marked you, and you’re not half as angry as you would have thought.

“Come on, kid, we’re finishing this tour. I promised,” he says, and the last bit is so mocking, you can’t believe mom and Blake fell for his act.

He takes you around the entire club, shows you the restaurants, the spa, the pool. At least a handful of girls stare at the two of you walking side by side, but Rafe doesn’t look back at anyone. You don’t know how to feel about that.

The oldest Cameron isn’t a mystery to anyone in Kildare, but you don’t know anything about him besides what the boys have told you. JJ hates him, naturally, John doesn’t let you look at him in passing, and even Pope can find a few bad things to say. But right now, he’s not doing any of those things you would have expected once he found out you and your mom are from the other side of the island. The crude jokes and gold-digger comments are nowhere to be heard.

But you can’t write him off completely yet. After all, this is Rafe Cameron.

He finishes the tour on the golf course, so you can wave to your parents on the course. You’re sipping on a lemonade through a little pink straw, and he finds it hard to look away when your cheeks hollow to draw up the liquid. Your mom and Blake wave back, and you smile—genuinely—for maybe the third time that morning.

“They’re good together,” Rafe comments, on the walk back to the front door, where his truck is waiting.

“Do you really think that?” you ask quietly. You’re tired, he can tell, drained from trying so hard to make sure he knows you hate him.

“Yeah, kid, I do. He’s been a widower basically my whole life. And he married your mom, so he must really love her.”

You can’t tell if he’s just saying it to get on your good side. You hope he’s not. Through all of this, all the crying and the suffering and how much you miss your old life and your friends, if your mom doesn’t at least end up happy, it’ll all have been for nothing. You feel more tears brewing.

“Thanks, Rafe,” you end up saying quietly, as you put on the seat belt in the passenger seat of his truck. His music plays softly in the background of the drive - rap, something you've heard before but can't place - back to Blake’s house. With your window down, you stare out of it and try to pay attention to the breeze in your hair rather than the entirely overwhelming scent of Rafe, which is all-consuming in his car.

Rafe turns to look at you every few minutes. You look perfectly in place in his car, leaning against the panel with your eyes closed. That means you trust him, even though every word you say makes him think otherwise.

Your eyes flutter open when he puts the car in park, outside the door to your house.

“Home sweet home, kid,” you hear his voice in your ear, but he sounds closer than he should be. When you turn to look, he’s leaning over you and so close to you, you feel the heat radiating from his body.

“What’re you doing?” you ask quickly, heartbeat picking up and rocketing off.

“M’just getting the door for you, kid.” His arm flexes, only an inch or two away from your chest, pulling the handle and swinging open the door. He leans back into his seat, smirking. “Why, what'd ya think I was gonna do?”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in and swallow uncomfortably. Your throat feels dry and your palms are suddenly clammy.

“Nothing.”

“Sure. Whatever you say.”

You climb out of his car, shoes hitting the ground a little too hard. He strains his neck, trying to make sure you’re okay.

“Thanks for the ride,” you say, not meeting his eyes, closing the door behind you.

“Anytime, kid. I’ll be seeing you around.”

You thought he would take over the second the passenger-side door was shut, but he doesn’t. He stays and watches you fix your skirt that had ridden-up on the drive, and walk into the front door, glancing behind you, just for a second, before going inside. And then you hear the roar of the engine, only after the door was closed and you were safely inside.

౨ৎ

You didn’t take it literally, that you would be seeing him again. Rafe seems like the type to play with his toys and get bored before long, but true to his word, you see him days later. And to his luck, you were feeling even worse than the first time you met him.

The morning started like any other—showering in a bathroom that’s just yours, and no one else’s, and attached to your bedroom. You can hardly remember the years when your dad was alive, but after he passed, you and your mom moved into a tiny two-bed, one-bath with your mom’s best friend. You were there for the next five years, until she got married and moved out, and it was just the two of you. But even in all the years since, you’ve never had your own bathroom until now.

You shower as long as you want, whenever you want. Your room is in a completely different hallway than the master, where Blake and your mom sleep. You blast music at night, singing along off-tune from the bathroom, and would stay on the phone for hours with your friends. If anyone answered your calls anymore.

It’s been three weeks since you broke the news to everyone that you were moving. Two weeks since you actually moved. One week since Rafe walked you around the country club and drove you back home, like you belonged to him. In that time, you’ve driven down to the Chateau twice, walked by Kie’s house, which is now just a few blocks away, and texted multiple times—all with no responses. At first you panic, thinking something’s happened, but then you realize this was what always happened. When you’re off on an adventure, you don’t think about who’s waiting for you back at home.

That’s what’s running through your mind when you run into Rafe again that day.

You had showered without interruption, taking your time doing your hair up just because you felt like it. There was no work to be done, no chores assigned to you anymore. Breakfast was always prepared when you went downstairs, so you took your time getting ready now.

You missed a lot of things about your old life, but the limited time and constant rushing and anxiety were not among them.

Your clothes were picked out with the anticipation of seeing your best friends again, your favorite overalls from the thrift store—which had been bought when you were still two sizes too small for them, and had been baggy on you until last year, but they were such a steal your mother refused to let you put them back—and a yellow shirt to match your ratty, yellow converse. They had been washed so many times they were more brown than yellow, but it didn’t matter much.

This outfit was the old you, and it brought up feelings inside you that nothing in figure eight could change. You wore it because you wouldn’t look any different to your friends in this outfit, and for maybe a few hours, you wouldn’t be the girl in the fancy house with the country club membership anymore.

“You look nice, sweetie,” your mom says, when you head downstairs. She’s drinking her coffee at the table, your step-dad nowhere to be found. It’s eleven in the morning and she’s just woken up too, in her robe and slippers, and you smile, watching her more relaxed than you’ve seen in years.

You swing by her side of the table to give her a kiss, and steal a piece of toast from her plate. You’re relieved she doesn’t mention your clothes, not when she keeps offering to take you shopping with Blake’s money, which you keep refusing, but is getting more tempting every time you step in a puddle in these shoes.

“Thanks mom, I’m going to see the boys and Kie, I’ll be back later, don’t wait up!” and with that you’re gone, before you can discern the disapproving look in her eyes.

Your junky old car, older than you by several years and still somehow the nicest thing you own—used to own, a voice chirps in the back of your head—is hidden around several fancy cars in the driveway. It’s intentional, you’re sure, and likely your mother’s doing. Nothing embarrassed her more than you handing out constant reminders of your old life to everyone around you.

And then you’re on the way to the Chateau, windows down and no music, since there was no way to connect your phone and the radio was busted by Pope a year ago, who claims he was trying to fix it.

But it’s what happens when you get there that embarasses you the most—no one’s there, and no one will answer your call. You wait around for a half hour, trying to see if they come back, but they don’t.

And that’s when it hits you. They were off on their adventures, and you weren’t just down the street anymore, which meant you weren’t invited. You get back in your car and slam the door, humiliated, tears falling down your face and probably ruining the makeup you had done, stupidly, this morning, because you wanted to look nice for them, like your old self for them. You don’t realize until later, after you were done crying, and seen Rafe again, that your friends didn’t want to bother you while you were adjusting to your new life.

You feel betrayed, and the words that John had told you rattle through your head, because he was wrong. Everything had changed, and nothing would be the same.

You take off, heading back home. There’s a big storm brewing and your Accord gets dramatic in the rain. It’s not until you cross the border back into figure eight that you realize two things. One, that you had just thought of your new house as home for the first time. And two, that you had never felt more alone.

There’s not much to do about either of these feelings, besides stopping for the biggest bowl of ice cream you can reasonably carry back home, and eating it in your room, crying and watching You’ve Got Mail for the hundredth time.

So that’s what you do, pulling into the ice cream shop closest to home. Your car also doesn’t have the greatest functioning air conditioner, and you don’t need any more questionable stains in your seats, considering how many times JJ had borrowed it and returned it, promising you it’s nothing and that that spot in the back seat was always there!

In line, tapping your foot, calling your mom’s cell. Your eyes are puffy and your nose is red from crying. She’s not answering, but the unspoken rule of your little family is to always, always call when you’re getting ice cream in case the other wants something. You’ve only been gone something like two hours, and you can’t imagine what she’s doing that she can’t answer your phone. You dial Blake’s number, hoping he answers instead, and while it’s ringing you realize it’s your turn to order. You haven’t even looked at the menu yet.

You turn to the people behind you, telling them they can go in front, but when you look up from your phone, you almost drop it.

Of course it’s Rafe Cameron behind you. Of course. Who else would it be? Who else would keep catching you at your lowest moments? He’s with a little girl, who can’t be older than four or five, with dark hair and glasses, holding his hand patiently while staring up at you, while you stare at him and he stares back.

“Rafe, she said we can go in front,” she says, tugging on the hand she’s holding.

“Yeah, Wheeze, I heard. Let’s go order and then thank this nice girl for letting us go ahead, right?” The little girl nods, and follows him up to order. Rafe looks back at you but then your step-dad answers, so you turn away, cheeks heating up. You don’t want him to see.

“Hi, what’s going on?” you hear his voice through the phone, sort of staticky and jumbled.

“Hi, Blake, I just wanted to ask if you and mom wanted ice cream? I’m at the place… yeah, the one near the house.”

“Oh, yes, let me ask her, one second-” You hear him put the phone down, or cover the mic, and then, “Honey! Kiddo’s asking if you want ice cream.”

You feel yourself soften a little bit at the nickname. And then you hear your mom and Blake talking back and forth, for what feels like ages. The girl behind the counter looks at you with a glare and you try to look back at her with an apologetic smile, but you’re a little fed-up from the emotional turmoil you’ve just endured.

“Hi, sweetie, I’m okay, I had some at the club with lunch and twice in a day is just not a good idea-”

“Just get it, who cares? We can have it later tonight too-”

“What if the power goes out? It’ll melt, and then it’s just a waste of money-” Crap. You hadn’t thought of that.

“We have generators for that.” Blake picks up the phone again. “Hey, kiddo, get your mom her usual and make sure you use the card I gave you, okay?”

You hang up the phone, smiling, and then order. It feels weird, being oddly comforted by someone other than your mom or your friends for once. In your distraction, you don’t see Rafe and the little girl hovering near the freezer window that showcases all the ice cream they offer. When you’re reaching for the shiny black Amex, you hear him again.

“I got it, kid,” Rafe says, pressing his matching card against the reader and pushing your wrist down and away. He does it so easily, without trying, just like he did in the country club. You look up at him stupidly, brain not registering what he just did and why he did it, and you don’t move for a moment. You don’t move until he leans down a little, close enough to smell that enticing cologne again but not nearly close enough.

“I think the words you’re looking for are ‘thank you’. And you should probably get out of the way.” You blink back up at him, and he’s smirking again. You feel kind of stupid, the way he’s talking to you, but you also don’t mind as much as you thought you would. The girl behind the counter yells out Next! and that’s when Rafe takes you by the arm, just above where he had bruised you, and moves you away himself.

“You okay, kid?” he asks, and you feel yourself melt like ice cream left in your car for too long. You don’t know if he really means it, or if he really cares, but you do know Rafe Cameron needs to stop talking to you like he likes you, or you’re going to be in trouble.

“Fine, yeah. Thanks, uh, thanks for the ice cream.” You’re still blinking slowly, stupidly, stuck in a daze. You should really get it together around him. It’s a little pathetic if a strong grip and a couple of nice actions gets you acting like this. That’s a problem for another day right now.

“Is she okay, Rafe?” the little girl asks quietly from beside him.

“No idea, Wheezie. Why don’t you sit and eat your ice cream?” he replies, and she sits down a few tables away, beginning to shovel chocolate ice cream with a tiny wooden spoon.

“Hey,” he says, and you begin to snap out of it. It’s raining outside now. You hear the pitter-patter of the drops on the roof. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, yes. I am. I just had a bad morning. Sorry.” But you don’t know what you’re apologizing for.

“Well, are you gonna talk about it and shit? ‘Cause I don’t know you that well yet but you’re kinda freaking me out right now.”

“I-I…I just-”

“You, you, you just?” he mocks, and then when tears fill your pretty eyes and he sees one slip down your face, his own eyes panic briefly. “Hey, hey, I was just joking, kid-” He pulls out a colorful chair for you, and sits you down next to Wheezie, who is still eating ice cream at an alarming rate. Your ice cream is ready at the counter, and he brings it down next to you, holding his own strawberry cone in his hand.

“Hold this for me Wheeze,” he says, not really asking, and the little girl shakes her head right away.

“How’m I gonna eat mine then?”

“Wheezie,” Rafe says, in a voice that you haven’t heard him use before—and then you realize how stupid you sound. You’ve talked with him twice, you don’t know anything about the voices he uses or how he sounds when he’s talking to this girl who can only be his little sister.

“Can I have some?” Wheezie propositions back, and Rafe nods. “Okay!” she says, taking a bite of the scoop with her front teeth.

“So, y’gonna tell me what’s going on or am I gonna have to guess everything?”

“My friends, I just keep missing them, or they keep missing me, maybe. I just wanted to see them. It’s really lonely here, that’s all.” You’re staring into his eyes, his really, really blue eyes that are currently a little alarmed and concerned, and the fact that they’re that way for you is making you a little dizzy.

“Yeah, I get that. Sorry, kid, that’s the lay of the land, right? Not a Pogue anymore, are you?”

“I don’t know what I am.” You feel silly and embarrassed for pouring your heart out over ice cream with Rafe Cameron. He doesn’t know you, and he never will.

“Well, right now you have a choice. You can sit here and eat ice cream with us, or you can go home and cry about it alone. But if you choose the second one, Richards and Anna will see you, or hear you, and ask about it. And I’m not gonna keep asking if you don’t wanna talk. So pick one before this shi-stuff melts, okay?”

You nod dumbly again. You’d like to turn your brain off and let Rafe decide for you.

“I need a spoon.” He smiles, not smirks, for a second, before getting up to get you a spoon.

A few things float through your mind while you eat ice cream with the Camerons. First, Rafe remembers your mom’s name. Second, Rafe doesn’t swear in front of his kid sister. And third, and most important of all, Rafe Cameron cares about you.

“That’s a lot of ice cream,” Wheeze, or rather—as you’ve just learned—Wheezie, comments.

“I was feeling really sad,” you reply, shoving another spoonful into your mouth, watching the little girl eye your peanut and chocolate ice cream inquisitively. “You’ll understand someday.”

“Boy problems?” she asks, and you can’t help but crack a smile. Rafe looks up from his phone momentarily

“Not really, but a good guess. This would also apply to that situation.”

“My sister’s always got boy problems.”

“Really?” you ask, and then look up Rafe. “You have another sister?”

“Yes,” he says, in between licks of strawberry ice cream. You should really look away when he does that, because your heart rate is picking up. “And she’s even more annoying than this one.”

You laugh while Wheezie frowns.

“If I’m so annoying, why do you always take me for ice cream, huh?”

“She’s got you there, Rafe,” and you resist the urge to look at him, even when you can feel his eyes on you.

“Because you wouldn’t stop asking, dork, that’s why.” Wheezie shrugs in reply.

“I’m not gonna finish all of this. You want some, Wheezie?” you ask, offering her your spoon. She looks back at you smiling, and then at Rafe for permission, who nods.

She digs into the pile left, while you finally give into the urge to look up at her brother again. He takes another lick of his ice cream and you look away within a second.

“Been eating that for a while, haven’t you, Rafe?”

“Yeah.”

Somewhere in between Wheezie eating so much of the ice cream so quickly that she gets a brain freeze, and Rafe finally tossing his half-eaten cone into the trash, it’s time to go home. And as much as you hate to admit it, you don’t want to leave. The rain is coming down hard outside, a preview of the impending hurricane.

“Drive here, kid?” he asks, as your feet hesitate by the door.

“No,” Wheezie answers, “I came here with you, dork.”

“Not talking to you, kid,” he replies, rustling the top of her hair with his hand, getting an ugh, Rafe, in response.

“Yeah. Yes, I drove here. But my car doesn’t do so good in the rain.”

“Huh?” he questions.

“It’s old, okay. Junky. The AC is broken. And the radio. Sometimes she just stops, y’know?” You gesture to your blue car parked out front, the rusty, tiny sedan two spots down from his shiny truck.

“No, I don’t know. Richards lets you drive around in that thing?”

“She.”

“It’s a car. Barely, at that.”

“She has a name, okay. HoHo. That’s her name.”

“Alright, well, you’re gonna have to ditch the hoe, because I can’t let you drive home in a hurricane in… that.” You turn to glare at him. “Her, sorry.”

That’s how you end up soaking wet in the passenger seat of Rafe’s truck, Wheezie secured in her booster seat and Rafe even wetter than you are. He drops you home and says the two of you can go pick up your car tomorrow—if it’s still there, he adds at the end, leaning over you again to open your door. You stare at him dumbly again, which has now become a bad habit, and it’s not until Wheezie says you’re getting her wet in the back that you finally climb out and close the door. You stand behind the front door with your mom’s melted ice cream in one hand, and your phone with Rafe’s contact saved in the other, wondering what exactly just happened.

౨ৎ

The next few weeks pass through as quickly as they came. Your car—to your chagrin and your mother’s joy—does not survive the hurricane. Blake gives you a fancy, luxury car to drive around in that he just had laying around, which you don’t believe for one second. But, your mom is pleased when you actually start driving it, and you can actually listen to music from your phone and enjoy air conditioning and the most luxurious of luxuries—a backup camera.

The night of the ice cream shop incident, Rafe texts you. You were completely ready to wallow in bed, waiting for the text from him that never comes, drowning your sorrow in more ice cream, but he does text you. First and right away.

R: Is it wrong if I hope hoho drowns tonight?

that’s so mean. she never did anything to you.

R: She’s kinda ugly. And what was that about no ac?

so she deserves death????

R: The impound lot at the very least

if she dies, it’ll be because YOU manifested it

R: Never thought I’d believe in that manifesting shit, but here we are

did Wheezie eat dinner after how much ice cream you let her inhale?

R: No.

R: Ur fault. You gave her yours

you gave her yours too

and btw, I offered her a bite. she ate the rest. not my fault

R: She’s five, genius

R: I’ll come around noon tomorrow. Sleep tight kid

౨ৎ

Somewhere in between picking up your car—which entailed no less than stopping for lunch, even more ice cream that you can’t stand to watch him eat, and driving through town to see how bad the damage from hurricane Agatha was, and altogether three hours together ending with a wet, heated kiss in his truck with the windows fogged up—and today, you’ve been with Rafe more times than you can count.

And you try hard to suppress the thought that it’s just because he’s available, that the availability is the reason for your attraction. And then you catch yourself trying to justify why you want to see Rafe so much, this guy that you had just been assuming was bad because your friends told you he was bad, without much in the way of an explanation.

But Rafe is the furthest thing from bad. He’s so sweet to you it makes you delirious. He picks you up all the time, even when you tell him you’re just at home, and your car is right there. He pays for everything, he opens every door, the gentle but teasing way he is with Wheezie makes you even more head over heels.

But most important of all, he calls you first. He texts you first. He makes you feel wanted, and you definitely, definitely, want him, so you don’t think twice before saying yes to accompanying him to Midsummers.

You actually don’t know what it really is, besides for a big party. It was always one of the worst nights at the hospital—litters of teens with alcohol poisoning and from car accidents— so your mom would be working. When you turned eighteen, your mom paid for classes to become a junior nurse, and so busy nights like the one of Midsummers usually was, you would get called in too. So before this week, you’d never spent Midsummers doing anything other than cleaning wounds and fetching suture kits.

You tell Rafe this and he looks at you strangely, another of his looks you hadn’t seen before, with furrowed brows, and you flush and apologize, regretting even opening your mouth.

You know you’re deeper than you thought when he takes your head between his hands and kisses you—messy, with tongue and spit left glimmering over your mouth, so much so that he wipes the corner of your mouth with his thumb when he’s done.

“Go get yourself a pretty dress, and we’ll have fun, yeah?” You nod stupidly again, the way you’re prone to doing around him. He must have realized you get a kick out being told what to do by him, what to worry about and what to focus on.

You finally take your mom up on the offer to go shopping. Her and your step-dad are going to this thing anyways, but you can tell she wasn’t completely sure you’d go to something so Kook-y, maybe not just yet, and she doesn’t want to push it since your mood finally seems to have picked up. But then you tell her Rafe asked you to go with him, and the two of you smile and jump around the living room, laughing like kids. She’s happy for you and you’re happy that the two of you are happy at the same time.

Rafe sends you money for a dress—enough money to pay for a month’s rent at your old place. Your mom says your step-dad insists on paying. You feel like things are coming together for the first time.

You wander the stores, trying on different dresses and feeling like a scene out of a movie until you finally find the perfect blue dress. Blue for Rafe’s eyes and his suit jacket, because you’re not embarrassed to admit to him that you want to match for Midsummers. It’s patterned with little flowers, ruffles and lace moving in the wind when you twirl, and for once, you stop feeling like you need to pick a side to be on—Pogue or Kook—and you decide just to be Rafe’s for now.

The night of the party, Rafe offers to pick you up, but you tell him you’ll come with your parents. They’re both wearing shades of peach and salmon, the three of you together look like you’re headed to a baby shower, which you and your mom laugh about in the car ride there.

You text Rafe to let him know you’re there, and tell your parents you’re going to walk around to find him. When you glance back, they’re talking with some of Blake’s friends, people he had invited to the wedding.

You see, what you can only think, is a glimpse of Pope, in his usual waiter get up, but he disappears before you can see where he was. His father is still there, though, and you make your way through the crowd to get near him.

“Hi, Mr. Heyward,” you say, smiling and unsure if he’ll recognize you. You don’t think he’s ever seen you in anything but your overalls or scrubs.

“How can I help yo-wait, is that you, well I’ll be damned. You’re blending right in, aren’t ya?”

“Well, it took long enough.” You suddenly feel embarrassed, because he knows the old you, the one who wouldn’t be here in a million years. “Do you know where Pope is? I thought I saw him, I just wanted to say hi.”

“He just went off that way, but if you see him, tell him I still need his help over here, just like I did before he walked away—”

“Can I help with anything?” you ask quickly, but he shakes his head and tells you the direction Pope went in.

You follow it generally, trying to see where he could have gone in such a short time. But then you see all of them, and you can’t stop your feet from running over. Kie, JJ, and Pope, all standing and talking about something, but you don’t really care about interrupting. Kie’s all dressed up too, and you suddenly don’t feel so embarrassed.

“You guys,” you feel yourself gushing. “It’s been so long,” and you go in for a hug with each of them.

“Wow, god, you look so pretty,” Kie says, and you hug her again. You don’t realize how much you missed her.

“You too, Kie,” your smile is so wide it starts to hurt. “Isn’t this so weird, all of us here at this party? Where’s John B?” you ask, looking around.

“So weird,” JJ says, and you notice the bruise around his right eye because he’s turning to look at Kie again.

“JJ, what the hell happened to your face?” JJ doesn’t answer, he actually doesn’t say anything at all, which should have been your first sign that something was wrong. You look at him quizzically, before turning to Pope.

“Pope, your dad’s looking for you, I just went over to say hi-”

“Oh crap,” he says, heading back in the direction you just came from. “Sorry, be right back.”

“W-what the hell is going on?” you question Kie and JJ, searching for any answer, desperately hoping that it isn’t we don’t wanna tell you. Your phone goes off, twice, and you pick it up. The look on your face must have been beyond palpable to your friends.

R🧸ྀི: Come inside the house

R🧸ྀི: Got a surprise for you

“I-I gotta go inside,” you say, looking at the confused faces of your friends.

“What’s inside? I thought-”

“No, nothing, I don’t know, Rafe just asked me to go inside, and I haven’t even seen him yet-”

“Rafe? What, Rafe Cameron?”

“Y-yeah?”

“What are you, with him, or something?” JJ asks, and you feel your heart fall into your stomach.

“I-I yeah, maybe. I’m here with him tonight, he-” Your phone goes off again. “I’m sorry, I have to go find him, but I’ll come find you guys right after, okay?”

You leave the two of them there, looking at each other confused, looking at you like they don’t recognize you. And it stings, for a moment, until you get inside the mansion and find Rafe hanging out by the entrance, nursing a glass of scotch and eyes lighting up when they see you.

Everything with him is like that scene from that movie. Lights go dim, you walk in slow-motion, the room goes quiet. He watches you walk up to him and his eyes take in everything—your pretty hair, your dolled up face, the way your dress moves when you walk, and most of all, that you’re here with him. He reaches his hand out to grab you by the waist to bring you in for a kiss. It’s not like the others, it’s chaste and soft and romantic.

“Hi,” you breathe out, resting your forehead against his.

“Hi, kid. You look fantastic,” and he presses another sweet kiss to your temple.

“We’re matching,” you say with a smile, taking in his blue suit jacket and the way you feel dizzy right now, and you feel his grip tighten around your waist.

“Yeah, we are. Now get in line with me, we’re walking out together.” Your eyes are big like coins, because you understood that you were coming here together, but this is his family’s big night, if everything your mom and Blake told you was to be taken seriously.

You don’t have time to say anything, because Rafe’s nice parents line up ahead of you, and his two sisters behind you. Wheezie tugs on your dress and you turn to greet her and Sarah quickly, because then the doors open and you’re walking out, following Rafe’s lead, lots and lots of eyes on you, but only one pair of blue ones you really care about.

You almost want to cry, the whole thing is so magical. You have a flute of champagne and a sip of Rafe’s scotch, and you are deliciously tipsy for the next two hours. Your parents come over to talk to you and Rafe, and you can see how happy your mom is in her eyes. You and Rafe dance until your feet hurt, and it’s only then, when he leaves your sight, that things seem to get back down to how they normally are.

You can’t find Wheezie’s parents or Sarah anywhere. The little girl spilled ice cream on her dress and is crying quietly, fat tears rolling down her chubby cheeks. You want to get her parents, because you think they can help, but you end up taking her to the bathroom yourself. With a damp paper towel, you wipe as much as you can, and you promise to get her another ice cream if she stops crying.

“It’s just a stain, honey, don’t worry.” You toss the dirty tissue and grab another one, wiping the tears and then letting her blow her nose. “It’ll come out when you wash it. And no one will notice because it’s so dark now, right?” She nods in agreement. “Do you wanna go find your big brother?” Another sad nod. “Let’s go honey,” and you take her hand and lead her back out.

You’re not entirely sure what you missed in the last fifteen minutes. Everyone’s gone quiet, staring at what you hope is a trick of your eyes—all of your friends running from the party, hooting and hollering. Kiara’s parents look hopelessly upset, Mr. Heyward downright disappointed, and your mom scanning the crowd, trying to see where you are, until she spots you and Wheezie.

Her and Mrs. Cameron come running over, and you instinctively flinch, thinking the giant headpiece she’s wearing will poke you. You hand off Wheezie and turn to look at your friends, and you think, for a second, they’re waiting for you. They are, you realize slowly, waiting for you.

And you almost take off right then and there, until you feel Rafe’s warm hand on your shoulder, and you look up to see him bleeding.

At that moment, you turn right back around and head inside to the nearest room, sitting Rafe down on the bed and scrambling to find something to clean his wound with, and something cold to help the swelling, and in your panic, you don’t realize you’re rambling.

“I mean, what the hell was all of that? I turn around for two seconds and everyone’s running from the party like there’s a fire, and destroying things and throwing punches, I mean, I get they hate the whole Kook thing, but it was never like this before, even when I didn’t know you yet, and I-” you drop the frozen bag of peas onto the floor in your sudden realization. “I just let them leave. They waited for me. I didn’t go with them.” Your eyes fill with years. That’s a betrayal, not all the stupid stuff you thought was happening before tonight. They waited for you, and you turned right back around to go inside with Rafe.

“Hey, hey hey,” Rafe says quietly, taking your head in his hands again. “Hey, it’s gonna be okay.”

“You’re bleeding, Rafe,” you say, voice trembling. Your tears are ruining your makeup.

“I’m gonna be fine. You know why?” he asks, and you feel more tears rush down. “Hey, hey, no crying.” Rafe wipes away the tears with his hand, then he brings his hands to your back and rubs soothingly. “You know why, kid?” “Why?” it comes out a whisper.

“Because you chose me. We’re gonna be fine, okay?”

The way he says it you believe him.

You spend the next two days at Tannyhill with Rafe, wearing nothing but his t-shirts and doing nothing but rolling around in bed. It’s been a month, maybe a little bit more, and you haven’t even had the talk yet—the sex talk. There’s no doubt in your mind that he’s not ready for it, but you’re not ready for it, not yet. You’re working on it. He doesn’t make it easy for you, either. You’ve spent hours now, making out in his lap, grinding against each other until you make a mess all over his shorts and his hair is sticking up in every direction, and working your way up to telling him what you want.

You’re almost there. You’re waiting for the perfect time. Which was almost right now.

“You like that? Shit-” he breathes into your ear, pressing a kiss to the tender skin of your neck right underneath. It makes you moan again, louder, until he clamps a hand—the one not three fingers deep inside your leaking pussy—over your mouth, barricading the noise from leaving. “Gotta be quiet, kid, you want the whole house hearin’ what a little slut you are?”

His blue eyes, lustful and blown, stare into your own. You shake your head softly underneath the tight grip of his palm. You’re always obedient with him, but he really likes you like this.

“Yeah? You gonna do whatever daddy tells you? Just so I keep my fingers in this tight pussy?” You nod compliantly, head falling back on to the pillow. His fingers are thick, and the cool of his ring rubs against your clit in the best way, in ways you didn’t even realize it could feel.

He keeps fucking three fingers in and out of you, moans muffled by his hand but not completely silenced. You must be making a mess, because it’s what he keeps talking about, rambling about your messy cunt, greedy and sucking him in, and how you’ve been cumming for him like a little princess for the last two days, but it’s never enough for you.

It’s when he removes his hand and kisses you hard instead, tongue deep inside you mouth, the metal of his chain dangling on your chin, and you feel the similarly cool metal of his ring on you, you finish again, exploding around your boyfriend’s fingers and moaning into his mouth. He hears you, repeating his name over and over again, not Rafe, but rather daddy, and he swallows your chants into his mouth. When you calm down, he makes a show of licking his fingers off while locking eyes, and then you get flustered and bury your head into his neck.

He laughs, because it’s so cute, but only for a minute. Then you two shower together and he makes another show, but this time out of you, kneeling on the floor of his tub while he paints your face with his cum, making sure to cover the necklace you’ve been wearing recently too, the silver, loopy little R hanging between your collarbone.

Then you get dressed—a little pink dress that’s been his favorite recently, with buttons down the front and a pretty bow where your tits sit— and the two of you have lunch with his family like nothing ever happened.

Rafe drops you back at home later that day, gives you a kiss where he grabs the back of your head to bring you in, and then waves bye to your parents as he unlatches the door for you, in his usual way.

౨ৎ

A week later, he does the same thing. Drops you off, drives away once you’re inside, and you’re starstruck walking back, so much so, you don’t realize there’s someone waiting for you.

It’s Kie, and Rafe’s sister, Sarah. You’re a little confused since you thought the two of them didn’t get

along, but they look like they’re fine now.

“Hey, listen, we need you to help us. Can you come down to the Chateau later tonight, after sunset?” Kie asks, and you must look as confused as you feel, because Sarah speaks right away, before you can get a word out.

“You cannot tell my brother. Promise us you won’t.”

“Why are you asking me that? Why can’t I tell him?” Sarah and Kie exchange a look, and it’s clear to you that you are missing several pieces of the puzzle. “Guys! Come on, you-you can’t expect me to just be on board with lying to my boyfriend and showing up to help you guys without knowing what it even is, right? What’s going on?”

“We will explain everything, just please promise us that you’ll come,” Kie implores and you nod hesitantly.

“And you won’t tell Rafe?” Sarah asks again.

“Come on. Pogues for life, right?” Kie says, and you get a flashback to your life two months

ago—doing anything for your friends and dreaming of how you’d end up with one of the boys someday. It all seems like a million years ago.

“Yes, yeah, yeah, I’ll be there. I won’t tell him.”

You guess that God was on your side today.

R🧸ྀི: Hey kid. Busy with my dad today. Dinner tomorrow okay?

sounds perfect!! don’t work too hard! i'm gonna watch a movie with my mom and blake and stay in tn

R🧸ྀི: You got mail again?

you know me so well

R🧸ྀི: Have fun princess.

You set down your phone on your dresser, feeling like you could throw up your dinner. It’s just starting to get dark outside, and you’ve just lied to Rafe for the first time since you’ve met him. It feels terrible, like something’s gnawing inside you, begging you to come clean and confess, or not to go out at all. You think about it for a moment, maybe if he knows you’re with some of your old friends, it won’t be like a real lie.

Then you remember your old friends are the ones who punched him. You tell your mom you’re going to Rafe’s, and then you get in your fancy car that Rafe helped you christen the other day—in the backseat, specifically—and drive to your old life.

You park next to the Twinkie and get out, stepping into a slush of mud. Your shoes are new, and were clean, and you cringe internally at how much you started caring about these things. You don’t want Rafe to see you with dirty shoes.

The boys and Kie are sitting on the logs near the fire pit. Sarah is sitting right next to John B, looking at him how you look at Rafe, and then you realize the magnitude of just how much you’ve missed.

“Hey,” Kie says, looking up first, smiling. “You came.”

“Yeah.” You’re at a loss for words. Everyone looks the same. Everything feels so different.

A part of you wants to sink down between Pope and JJ, crack a beer, and laugh at jokes you think you would still understand. Another part wants to get into the fancy car and drive to Tannyhill. You opt for neither, standing a few yards away and letting the light from the fire cast its hazy glow over you and all your old friends.

“Did you tell him?” Sarah asks. She means it well, not in a rude way, but that’s how you feel.

“No, no, I didn’t. He, he thinks I’m at home. With my mom and Blake.”

“Alright,” JJ says, tossing his empty beer can. “Let’s get this show on the road.”

“Listen,” John B says, getting up and sounding too sincere for your liking. “We all appreciate you coming. Because we need a favor from you, and it might not be easy.”

“I mean, I think it’s gonna be pretty easy. Unless Rafe is like, really, really crazy, like even crazier than we already know he is-” JJ says, but stops when Kie and Pope shake their heads. “What? She knows, she’s the one dating him.”

“Know what? I don’t even know what you want from me-”

“We need a distraction. For Rafe, okay?” John B starts.

“An hour, okay, that’s all we need, right guys?” Sarah asks, looking back at everyone. They nod, trying to convince you, except Jayj.

“Well, like, maybe a couple of hours. If he’s up to that, y’know, I don’t wanna assume shit ‘bout stamina and all that-”

“JJ,” Pope says, shoving the blond’s arm. “You’re not helping.”

“What?” you breathe out, even more confused than before. You start to get what they’re asking, you just don’t want to admit it.

“We need to distract Rafe, for an hour, or like two hours, and we figured you’re our best bet.” John B says, and you look at them with your mouth falling open a little.

“You want me to…sleep with my boyfriend, to distract him, so you guys can do something that you won’t tell me about?”

“Kind of, yeah. Pretty much.”

“And is, is this thing going to hurt him in the long run? Is he going to be upset? When he finds out what happened?”

“My Kook feelings radar is a little off, right now, but who knows, I mean hell, he might not ever find out,” JJ says, and you want to sit down, because your knees feel weak, but the ground is muddy and the logs are occupied. “If we do our job right, he won’t know for a long, long time, right guys?” A chorus of right, right rings around the fire.

“And you’re not gonna tell me what this is about at all?”

“Well, it might not be a good idea. Because, you’re dating him, and listen, we just need like an hour, and he never has to know you were a part of this, okay? I will never tell him, none of us will,” Sarah says, and you do believe her. But you can’t believe that they’re asking you to do this.

“And if he finds out, and he breaks up with me, then what?”

“Yeah, I, uh, knew this was a bad idea. She’s not gonna do it, guys, so let’s just reformulate-”

“Oh, you knew I was gonna say no, JJ? Lying to my boyfriend? For the people who hurt him?”

“He hurt us too, y’know,” Pope says, and you feel your heart begin to race.

“No, I don’t know, because no one tells me anything! No one answers their phone and no one’s here when I drive down. Kie, you live two streets away from me now. The first time I saw you all month was at Midsummers and then, today. Asking me to come here to lie to Rafe, to sleep with him to distract him.”

“No, no, we shouldn’t have asked you, because I knew you would say no, I told them-” and you can’t believe the words coming from your friend's mouth. “Look at you, you went total Kook on us.”

And then you feel like they’re taking it all in. The R around your neck, the jewelry that sparkles in the light of the fire, all yellow citrine, for Rafe’s birth month. The pink dress that’s his favorite—you put it on this morning in case you ended up back at Tannyhill tonight. And worst of all, his white button up hanging from your shoulders, smelling like ocean and sandalwood and Rafe Cameron.

“It’s like you belong to him now.” You feel a tear sliding down, but you wipe it away.

“Maybe that’s because he was actually there for me, when I needed it. And I get it, maybe I should have tried harder. But you guys should have too.”

The group of you stand there in silence for a moment. Your phone goes off. You know it’s Rafe. They know it is too. It starts with Kie, and then a course of apologies from everyone. John B wipes away your tears like nothing has changed. JJ scratches his head, and then hugs you tighter than he ever has before. Pope tells you how much he’s missed you, how he had to start bandaging wounds in your absence.

“I’ll distract him. An hour, that’s all you get. I’m not sleeping with him because you guys want me to, okay? So if he leaves, he leaves.”

You take off for Tannyhill, leaving your old life behind and risking your new one all at once.

౨ৎ

Rafe’s phone goes off again, and he lets out a short, tight breath.

Princess: are you still busy at home? i need you

Princess: please rafey

“I’ll be back,” he tells Ward, and before he can even respond, he’s out of the room, calling you. The line rings twice, and then you answer.

“Rafey?” you sound quiet, like you’ve been crying.

“Hey, hey kid. What’s going on? I told you I was working tonight,” and then he runs a hand through his hair, because he knows he’s fucked, if you’re crying and you need him, then he’s going.

“I know, Rafe, I just really need you, I had a really bad night-” “Woah, wait, I thought you were just with your parents?”

“I was, it just got really bad, I-I’m outside Tannyhill because I had to leave, and then I got lost and I was scared so I just came straight here.”

“Lost? Jeez, kid, it’s, like, down the street.”

“But I didn’t wanna bother you, ‘cause you were busy-” and then he hears a hiccup, and then a sob.

“Okay, okay, stay there, I’m gonna come get you,” and he hangs up the call. He darts outside, spotting your navy car and you inside, still in the same clothes from this morning, just wearing his shirt over it, like a jacket. He gets close and you climb out of the car yourself, jumping into his arms and burying your face into his neck, like you always do when you get like this. He can feel the way your body shakes under his arms, the wetness of your tears on his black polo.

“Okay, it’s okay now, come on, let’s go inside.” You make it up the stairs to his bedroom, when Rafe guides you inside and pulls his blinds, so no one peeks inside.

He sits you up on the edge of his bed, squatting before you, hands in yours, arms resting on your knees.

“You gonna tell me what happened?” You shake your head, another tear falling. You wish you could say you were pretending, but the tears find their own way when you think about the encounter you just had. You’re lying when you tell him it’s between you and your parents, but his reaction makes you regret it instantly. “Did they say somethin’ to you? Did they try something? I’ll go over there and sort it all out, okay, kid, don’t worry about a thing.” He stands up, running another hand through his messy hair, letting it fall in the moppy way it always does, over his forehead. “Stay here, okay, princess, I’ll be back.”

Then you realize he’s gonna go over there and talk to your perfectly happy, clueless parents, so you stand up and turn him back around.

“No, no, Rafe, don’t leave,” and then you melt into a hug, taking in everything about it. Rafe rests his chin on the top of your head, his arms tight around your back. He smells so good, and the way he’s taking care of you makes you realize a couple things. “Will you just…make me forget?”

Your boyfriend looks down at you, and you don’t shy away from his gaze like you often, when you get flustered.

“Make you forget?” he questions.

“I just don’t wanna think about anything else,” you start, undoing the bow of your dress, more cleavage revealing itself. “I just wanna think about you,” and then your fingers undo the buttons trailing down the front of your dress. It falls off your shoulders, and you stand before him, naked, certainly not for the first time but what feels like the most intimate it’s ever been.

There’s a pretty lingerie set hidden in the back of your closet, what you had actually put aside for this moment, but you had no time to run home and get it, so you opted for the next best thing, taking your bra and panties off in the car ride here, shoving them into your purse, and hoping that Rafe was as tempted as you were.

“Just about me?” he questions, and you take his hand into yours, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips.

“Just you, Rafe. I’m ready, Rafey, I want you to fuck me,” and it seems like that’s all it takes. Rafe crushes his lips against yours, kissing you how he always does, tongue in your mouth and spit everywhere. He holds you by the back of your head and your hands run through his hair. You want him closer, even closer than he already is, than he possibly could be.

His hands leave your head and go down to your ass, grabbing both cheeks roughly and wrapping your legs around his waist. He drops you on his bed, head hitting the pillow, and you pull away for a second, to catch your breath. Rafe doesn’t let it happen, gripping your cheeks between his hand and bringing you back in for another kiss. You’re naked, and he’s still completely dressed, but you don’t miss the obvious way his hardened dick presses against your bare cunt.

You can’t breathe, and all your senses are overpowered by Rafe, but you also don’t really care. You keep kissing, moaning into each other’s mouths and gripping hair and skin that’s sure to leave a bruise tomorrow, until you feel him finally pull away for a second. You catch your breath, open-mouthed and heaving, eyes locked.

“‘M only gonna ask this once, kid,” he breathes, leaving another hot kiss on your neck, which makes you spread your legs further open with instinct. “Y’sure you want this? ‘Cause there’s no going back.”

You nod in that way you always have with him, telling him everything with no words at all.

“That’s my girl,” he breathes against your neck, and you feel him bite down into the soft skin of the flesh there. You yell out, but it turns into a moan when Rafe licks his tongue over the wound. “That’s just so you can remember this night, okay baby?” You look back up at him, wet eyes, swollen lips, and flushed, sweaty skin.

“Thank you, daddy.” He smiles, because you’re in for it now.

“You’re welcome, kid. Shit,” he breathes out, “I knew you’d like it, little freak.” He starts with more hot kisses, all the way down your neck, down your sternum, and stopping to press a kiss to each side of your ribs, before continuing down to your stomach. You whine from your position below him, one huge hand holding your hip in place and the other tracing the pattern of the kisses down, until he finally reaches where you want him to be.

“Gotta be quiet, kid, everyone’s home. You gonna let them all hear how much of a whore you are for me? Huh?” he mocks, and you shake your head fervently. “Good girl. You’re being so good, you’re gonna get a treat, okay?” You nod stupidly.

His breath catches for a second, when he gets down to your glistening cunt. He looks up at you from his position there, your chest heaving, tits bouncing with how much you’re squirming, how much you want him to do something. He moves his hands, one resting on your breast, pinching the nipple with his finger, and the other running a line down your pussy. Your whole body twitches up when he runs the metal of his ring over your clit, because he knows you really like it.

“Rafe, please,” you cry, sounding stupid and fucked out, even though he hasn’t started yet. “Please, please,” and your hips jerk up. He pushes them down.

“Be patient, kid. Gotta admire this virgin pussy for the last time before I ruin it, ‘kay?” You feel your walls tighten at his words, and you hope he missed the way everything just clenched, but it’s Rafe, and he didn’t miss a thing. “Like that, huh? You like being my little slut?”

You shake your head, trying to deny it, but the damage is done.

Rafe dives in, and you let out a moan that you didn’t realize you were capable of producing. You clamp your own hand over your mouth, because you know he’ll stop if you get too loud. His tongue licks you up and down, and true to what you had always thought, he does know what he’s doing.

The hand pinching your nipples doesn’t relent, and the weight of his arm holds you down when you buck up as he pushes two fingers inside you, scissoring them to stretch your walls out. It hurts, in the best way, and before you know it, he’s added a third.

His mouth stays focused on your clit, and your legs tremble, even though it’s barely been a few minutes. It’s all of it, all at once. Being naked in Rafe’s bed, his hand groping your tits, the way he holds you down without trying, the smell of his cologne and his skin and his sweat, making you lightheaded.

His fingers push in and out, and when he hits that sweet spot inside you, the one your own fingers have never been able to reach but somehow, Rafe’s have become well acquainted with, you can’t help the noises you make.

You repeat his name over and over again, and you think you’ve felt the height of this pleasure, that nothing could surpass this feeling, until your stomach tightens in an entirely new way. Your fucked out brain gets it together for a minute, to feel the overwhelming, ecstatic pressure of Rafe’s tongue on your clit, spelling out his own name. Your stomach tightens, unbearably so, that coil winding up, but before he even finishes the F, it snaps all at once.

You let out a scream—which you think is so stupid of you. But it feels so good, there was no way around it. Rafe reacts instantly, grabbing your hand that’s pulling his hair and using it to snap over your mouth, all while he rides you through it.

His nose presses against your clit while he slides his fingers out, your pussy walls clamping around nothing, missing him already. He laps up the mess you just made with his tongue, the noise being so overwhelming, you want to scream again.

You use your other hand to yank his hair, pulling him up to look at you, because you know you want to see this. Rafe, your Rafe, your boyfriend, with blown, wide eyes and the entire lower half of his face glistening with your juices, with the mess you just made, and then you collapse back down onto the bed.

Your breathing is heavy. You aren’t sure it’ll ever go back to normal.

Rafe pulls his shirt off by grabbing it from the back, yanking it over his head. Your hand floats up to

touch his chest, to make sure he’s still real and not just a vivid sex dream, but he slaps it out of the way.

“What did I say, hm?” he asks, leaning over you. His face is just an inch too far to kiss. Your limbs feel numb, and you can’t pull him down yourself. You want to cry, because you want to kiss him so badly. “I said you had to be quiet, or everyone’s gonna know what a little whore you are.”

“I tried, daddy, I did-”

“I don’t think you tried at all, kid.”

“No, I did, I swear-”

“You’re lucky that I-” and before he finishes his sentence, you pull him down into another kiss. He tastes like you and scotch, and the combination is so intoxicating, you can’t pull away. “Hey, hey,” he breathes. “I’m not going anywhere, okay?” and the soothing way he says it, you believe him.

“I’m lucky that you what?” you ask, unbuckling his belt and snaking it off the loops.

“That I love you, and I’m not gonna punish you tonight for not listening to me.” You drop the belt over your stomach, the melt part hitting with a little clink. You look back up at him, your eyes wide, you imagine, your cheeks flushed.

“You love me?” you ask, quietly. You can barely hear yourself over the thud of your heart pounding in your chest.

“I do,” Rafe replies, running his hand to smooth over your hair, which you’re sure is a mess now. “Enough that I’m gonna fuck you now, but I had to say it first, because I’m gonna fuck you until you break.”

You’re speechless, watching Rafe unbutton his pants and kick them off, boxers going with them. He strokes himself once, twice, and you’re still staring up at his face, even though normally you would get distracted.

He looks up again.

“You ready, kid?”

“I love you, Rafey,” you say, twisting your hands around to the back of his neck, pushing him into yet another kiss. You can’t pull away, even if you want to, you want him so close that you forget everything else in the world for now. While you’re kissing, he lines himself up with your leaking pussy, which has probably ruined these sheets, and pushes in the tip.

You pull back from the kiss, just to moan, but Rafe silences you with his mouth again. He pushes in more, and more, until you’re sure he’s bottomed out. Your cunt is so, so stretched, you can’t fathom this is what you’ve been missing out on, and it feels so good, like nothing has ever felt before, not his fingers, not his tongue, not any other part of him.

“That’s halfway, kid, you doin’ okay?” and your eyes jolt up to his in a second.

“H-half?” you breathe out. “I can’t, I can’t take any more, s’not gonna fit Rafe, not gonna fit-”

“Hey,” he repeats, which always has that calming effect on you. “You let me worry about that, okay? Just relax this pussy f’me, okay?” and the way he says it, you do, because you have no other choice. He pushes in again, fast, hard, and then pulls all the way out. You’re too scared to look anywhere but his eyes, so you stay locked in on them, until he pushes all the way in again, and your eyes clasp shut.

“Oh, oh my god, Rafe-” And you don’t care who hears you this time. He pulls out again, just his lip still inside you.

“Look, princess, look down,” he urges, and you follow his instructions, because you always do. “Look where we’re connected, yeah?” He fucks in and out of you, slowly but then faster, and you do look, entranced at the way your pussy sucks him in, the way your cum is coating his dick, at the brutal pace he’s set.

You look until you can’t anymore, leaning back against the pillow and watching Rafe above you, his face twisted in pleasure, eyebrows furrowed, mouth panting. He buries his face into your neck, and you grip the top of his shoulders, nails digging in, because you just need to hold onto something.

He told the truth, you think, in your fucked out, blissful state, that he was going to fuck you like he hated you, battering into your sore pussy over and over again.

You repeat his name—daddy, not Rafe—until he shuts you up with a kiss, and he watches the strings of spit connecting your mouths when he pulls away.

“Just needed this dick, didn’ya princess? Just needed daddy to think for ya?” You moan in reply. “You got it then, kid, because m’never gonna stop fucking you. Y’never gonna think about anything else again.”

And then he finally does you in, because he presses down, right below your stomach, while he slams in, and you feel something inside you break, like a flood breaking through a dam. It washes out to every part of you, from your ears to your fingers to your toes. White hot pleasure runs its course through your body, cunt tightening and shaking, eyes rolling back, your spine arching forward. Through all of it, Rafe pins you down, and fucks you through it. And finally, deliriously, you open your fucked-out eyes, looking up at him.

“I love you, daddy,” and he cums before he can even pull out, messy rivulets shooting inside you, leaking out onto his expensive sheets. He moans into your neck, and his entire body slumps forward, and you giggle under the weight.

A few minutes pass by.

“Rafey, you’re gonna crush me,” you say quietly, sing-songy. You’re so happy, you’ve forgotten everything else that’s happened.

Rafe presses a kiss to your forehead and rolls off, slumping next to you. Your head lands on his chest not a second later, his arm around your shoulder and another kiss to your hair.

“Feel better, kid?”

“So much better, Rafey.”

You don’t know when you fall asleep, only that you woke up to the sound of your phone going on. You pick it up, trying to turn down the light so Rafe doesn’t wake up too. There’s one message.

JJ: I thought you said you weren’t gonna sleep with him?

౨ৎ

#eeeeeee!!!! thoughts????#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #outer banks #obx

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random-twst-things · 8 months ago

Text

Part 2 of this!

*After the interview, it was cut short*

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: Mal?

Malleus: ...yes?

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: HOW?! how is it that we're even married?

Malleus: Well-

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: We haven't even dated each other?!

Malleus: ...

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: Look, it's not that I mind, really but-

Malleus: Really? ☺️

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: Not the point Mal! How did this even happen? And for an entire year?!

Mc/Y/N/Yuu, turns to Mal: Mind explaining?

Malleus: Well, you were the one to court me

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: ...Me?

Malleus: Yes, do you remember around a year ago the time you gifted me a new tamagotchi, coupled with a pretty rock with a small card saying "love you"?

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: Yes? It was a while ago, but yea

Malleus: Well, I thought that was you courting me, dear

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: ...

Malleus: ...

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: You thought that I was courting because I gave you a rock? A simple rock?

Malleus: Correction, a very pretty rock, but yes

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: Please don't tell me this is the way faes court?

Malleus: Well, not exactly. Instead of the, VERY, pretty rock you gave me we usually find or buy an unpolished emerald rock and give it to the person we wish to court.

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: AN EMERALD?! UNPOLISHED EMERALD?! I gave you nothing close to that!

Malleus: Well, I assumed that given your living situation and expenses you sadly had to use a pretty rock you found instead of the emerald

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: Mal, you do know that our way of "courting" is very different, right?

Malleus: I am aware, but I assumed you knew

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: ...

Mc/Y/N/Yuu, sighs: Okay, okay- wait- this was when?

Malleus: A month before we got married

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: A MONTH?!

Malleus: Yes, a month, I wished to do it sooner but thought I'd wait to respect your human traditions. Lilla also said patience is key ☺️

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: MAL A MONTH IS TOO SOON?

Malleus: It is? 😔

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: YES BUT-

Mc/Y/N/Yuu, sighing: WHEN?! HOW DID WE EVEN HAVE A WEDDING?

Malleus: Dear, the event I held a year ago in Diasomnia's courtyard was our wedding

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: I thought that was some fae holiday or tradition you guys did?

Malleus: It was not, it was our wedding

Mc/Y/N/Yuu, pacing the room: wait- you need a marriage officiant for a wedding to happen though? What about the vows? The walking down the aisle?

Malleus: The vows we said we're done in private, remember? when I poured my heart out telling you how I could never imagine you not being in my life? The marriage officiant was Lillia and the walk down the aisle I chose not to do as I couldn't wait any longer.

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: Okay, so I remember the "vows" but when did I even sign the marriage license?

Malleus: As soon as you walked into the dorm doors

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: I thought that was a paper to see who came?

Malleus, worried tone, happy face: My, dear, you really should read something before you sign it 😊

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: yea, I really should

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: what about the wedding attire? I didn't wear a wedding dress/suit? The ring?

Malleus: The outfit of garments I sent to you the day before our wedding and the ring I'm assuming you thought was a "simple" gift 😞

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: THAT WAS MY WEDDING DRESS/SUIT?! And wedding ring?!

Malleus: Yes, I must say you looked positively gorgeous/beautiful/handsome and I chose the ring very well, it suits you tremendously

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: Thank you-

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: okay, okay- No big deal- I'm just married to the prince of Briar Valley, descendant of fae, the most powerful mages in the world.

Malleus: I prefer to be called "Mal", by you

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: ...

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: Oh by the Seven, I can't believe we got married all because I gave you a SIMPLE ROCK

Malleus: As I said before, a very pretty rock

Mc/Y/N/Yuu: Mal, we don't even live together

The rock You/Mc/Y/N/Yuu gave to Malleus:

Authors note: (this turned out longer than I thought 😭)

(FINALLY! DONE! No next part... Unless a part 3 where they talk it out better? Nah.... Unless)

Dividers by/from @/cafekitsune

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gay-dorito-dust · 9 days ago

Note

We NEEED Batfam with a s/o who is the kindest person to ever walk in Gotham City. I’m talking they have no bad bone in their bodies and ALWAYS see’s the good in other people.

Dick found you to be refreshing.

He found your pension for helping others, even the scummiest of individuals, into a better future. However he has seen how people could take advantage of a person unlike themselves out of greed, envy for their willpower to keep believing when they’ve all but given up, and anger that they still smile even when the situation is against them.

He couldn’t help but found your want to see Gotham be better admirable and how you’d wish to see the city better itself for the people that live inside it but Gotham was a city with no cure, nor wanted to be healed no matter how hard others have tried. This doesn’t mean Dick was apprehensive towards your dream, if anything he shared that vision with you as it was a dream he’d love to see com true one day.

‘You’re far too kind for a city like this sweetheart.’ Dick said once after he saw you give some kids from Crime Alley a generous amount of food and the money from your wallet/purse, smiling softly as you watched them run away with full stomachs and money in their tightly protected pockets.

You shrugged, looking at him with a soft glint in your eyes. ‘That might be true but that doesn’t mean I’m going to run away when the going gets tough or loose my way.’ You replied as you returned to his side, intertwining your fingers with his and squeezing. Dick smiles as he lifts your hand to his lips, kissing it before letting it drop between the two of you, feeling a lot lighter under your gaze as he found himself wanting to stay in this moment forever before Gotham soured even the most innocent of interactions you two shared.

‘Then I’ll gladly stand by your side and help you see this dream through, if you’re not giving up then I’m not giving up either, I promise you that.’ Dick vowed as he pulled you closer to him, kissing your temple, letting himself linger there as he embraced your warmth against Gotham’s bitter cold air that tried to separate you, for it knew that you two were a formidable force to be reckoned with. You sighed, leaning towards his touch and relishing how comforting it was.

‘I’d rather have no one else by my side than my dickie bird.’ You said softly as Dick pulled away to smile at you. ‘I just don’t want to see more kids suffer more than they’ve already have, whether it’d be by the hands of their parents or corrupt authority figures.’ You tell him as you looked back down the alleyway the kids ran down, smile wavering a little as you could only imagine the cruelty they suffered and at such a young age too. ‘They’ve already endured enough and they’re all the more braver for not letting it destroy their spirit.’ You add as you could only hope that those kids remember this small act of kindness and hold it to their chest well into their adulthood.

Dick looked at your fondly and found himself all the more amazed by you and your unending desire to see the better in people, fully believing that they can change whenever they felt ready to, even the most lost individuals can find their way back with the help of a guiding hand. People like you are what Gotham desperately needed to lead the city into a better and brighter future, you were able to find it within yourself to be kind and loving towards those that would spit at your shoes, letting them see that you weren’t so easily swayed to step away from someone in pain.

‘I’m sure they will,’ Dick reassured you by squeezing your hand, ‘it’s hard to forget an act as selfless and sincere as yours honey.’

‘Thank you Dick.’ You uttered softly as you cuddled yourself into his side, resting your head against his chest to listen to his calming heartbeat.

‘Just speaking the truth and from the heart.’ Dick responded as he kisses the top of your head, wanting nothing more than to make you happy just like you have been making him happy throughout your relationship. ‘This town will heal, it’ll be long, but it’ll heal in its own time.’ He adds as you both walked home to be greeted by your sweet baby Hayley.

Gotham will heal…just give it time and patience.

Damian found your kindness to be glaring.

It was a beacon for the weak to prey upon and your hope for Gotham was one that came from that, hope. Gotham was the city where hope and ideals for a better future came to rot and die and Damian couldn’t help but scoff a little because a person like you would never survive in this town, for the people of Gotham could smell your naivety from a mile away and hunt you down until you became like them.

Which was why Damian often found himself by your side and pointing his sword at the throats of those stupid enough to be enamoured by your bright, hopeful presence, even going so far as to cut them just to prove a point. ‘Back off cretin.’ He’d all but growl at them and watch as they scurry off like rats.

You’d look at him with the expression of an upset puppy as he sheathed his sword. ‘Damian.’ You groaned.

‘They’d only come back for more if you conceded to their whims my love.’ Damian replied calmly as he cupped your face between his hands, resting his head against yours to look deeply into your eyes. ‘And I do not intended for my beloved to be used by the miscreants that littler the street like discarded toys, bent out of use and lost all purpose but to kill the will of those that still believe.’ He could see the hurt and the disbelief in your eyes before the look of resilience took over your face as you smiled sweetly at him, taking his breath away.

‘Then I’ll keep believing for the people who can’t, won’t or have long since given up all hope that Gotham can be better than what they’re forced to believe as truth.’ You said and Damian couldn’t help but find your tenacity and determination to keep strong when all seems bleak and depressing admirable. However he couldn’t help but want to usher you away from the utter madness that he had seen with his bare eyes, keep you from ever seeing this town for what it truly was; chaos incarnate.

The town was constantly tearing itself apart and putting itself together again but by only using the worst parts of itself over and over again until it could do nothing but collapse in on itself, dragging everyone else down with it in the process, implicating a sense of darkness and despair that could leave even the most strong willed of people to wonder whether it was worth it and Damian didn’t wish for you to loose that light, nor hope for a better Gotham.

‘You are truly an enigma my treasure.’ Damian sighed as you kissed his cheeks, nose then lips quickly, making him smile softly as he closed his eyes to embrace your affection. ‘Stubborn yet sweet, kind yet headstrong, hopeful yet knowledgeable. That is the kind of person you are and I do not wish to see you falter to this city’s darkness, for a cage is not a place for a bird that is meant to be free from all restraints to it’s ability to fly.’ Damian murmurs as he kisses your forehead.

‘And I’m glad to have someone like you dami.’ You said happily as you admired his emerald eyes. ‘But I just wish for the betterment of the people here, doesn’t everyone deserve a second chance?’ You then asked as your hopeful eyes twinkled like the stars above, bright and vibrant, so unlike the eyes of everyone that resided in Gotham which were dull, lost and angry.

‘Not everyone my love.’ Damian counters, ‘rehabilitation can only take them so far before they realise that they can abuse the help given to them with the hope they’d do better once out, while that might be the case for some but there are those who see an opportunity to take from the giving.’ You sighed, still smiling at him as you recognised that he was equally as stubborn in his own views, just as much as you were stubborn in yours.

‘That is true but I just can’t afford to give up, not when this city is crying out for help but only receiving bloodshed and corruption.’ You reached out and rubbed his arms soothingly. You were too kind to a town that reeked of blood and violence Damian deducted from your first meeting, having found it rather childish and naive, but now he saw this as something that should be valued and appreciated while it could and Damian internally vowed to keep this light within you alive and burning for as long as he could.

For you were his hope just as much as Gotham’s.

Jason finds you to be the purest and sweetest soul amongst the piss and shit that made up the rest of Gotham.

The light in the dark for many, but unfortunately that means that you’d also attract the attention of people whom Jason saw as people who’d take advantage of a soul like you.

So much so that he would rest his hand on your wait and pull you away when some suspicious looking man walked up to you, hands cupped together with a pathetic look upon his face as he pleaded with you, never once looking at him because the punk knew he couldn’t fool him with his character so he went for you instead like a coward.

‘I’m pretty sure I’ve got some money I can spare-‘ you said sweetly as you tried to reach for your wallet/purse.

‘No.’ Jason said as he stops you and glares at the man who looked back at him with a face that only confirmed what he had already assumed upon seeing him; he was taking advantage of you for his own benefit and was pissed that Jason was guarding you from his schemes. ‘He can scrap the shit off of the pavement and feed himself with it.’ Jason adds as he proceeded to pull you away from the man who only spat near his shoe and slunk away into the alleyway, waiting for someone else he could take advantage of.

‘Jason!’ You exclaimed, wanting to truly help the man in hopes he’d change his ways for a more productive one.

‘You can’t think you can heal everyone chipmunk, then they’ll think they are entitled to everything you have and will want to take every piece of you until there’s nothing left for them to benefit from, where they’ll leave your body to rot until they can find a new soul to dig their claws into.’ Jason replied firmly but the moment he saw your saddened look he sighed and tipped your chin up with his finger. ‘Hey,’ he began softy, ‘a soul like you is unique, precious as a jewel, and you shine too brightly that you’ve become a beacon for the worst this shit town has to offer but I’m not going to let them.’ He finished as he kissed your forehead.

‘I just can’t expect you to protect me all the time.’ You retorted as you held his face between your hands, caressing his cheeks in a soothing manner and smiling as he melted into your touch. ‘I can’t help who I am, I just want the best for everyone and I can’t help but hope that Gotham heals itself for the betterment of its people.’ Jason couldn’t help but look at you lovingly as he brought you in closer to him so that you were pressed against each other, the closeness was enough to calm his thoughts.

You were too good to be true in Jason’s eyes and would far better in a city far, far away from Gotham in hopes that the poisonous town doesn’t seep into you, but you were not only kind but far too stubborn to do such a thing; especially when there was people to help and Jason couldn’t help but find beauty in your will to do right by the people, even the ones that he didn’t think were worth the tireless effort of saving but that was the kind of person you were and he loved you all the more for being true to yourself.

‘I’m not asking you to change. I could never ask you to stop being who you are because it’s people like you that Gotham needs most, not violence or hateful comments, just someone who genuinely wants to help for the sake of bettering a community who don’t have the resources to help themselves and be a guiding hand for the hopeless.’ Jason kisses you on the lips. ‘That’s the person I fell for, an absolute angel.’ He finishes as he cradled you even further against his chest as he felt you cling onto him.

You were far too sweet for a sour town like Gotham but Jason was going to be with you no matter what, an angel like you needs someone like him who can protect you from the corrupt and the evil that lurks beneath the surface, or shows their face proudly in a town where hope comes to die. Jason will protect his light, his angel, his cheeky little chipmunk who often steals his hoodies when they missed him for you were worth more than he’d ever let this putrid city know. He’ll protect what is his and wage war on those who seek to hurt his hope for Gotham.

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rafelandia · 9 days ago

Text

Two Babies (dad!Rafe Cameron x fem!reader)

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings: angst, mentions of smut, pregnancy

Summary: Y/N is pregnant again before she’s ready.

Author's Note: Hello! Please enjoy my first Rafe one shot. I would love to expand on this couple so if you have any requests or any blurbs you'd like me to explore, please send me a message! As always, likes and reblogs are much appreciated - it helps more than you know. Happy reading :)

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favorite tiny human,” the pediatrician chimed as she kicked the door to the small examination room shut with her sneaker.

“You must say that to all of the parents that you see,” Y/N blushed, unable to hide the smile that tugged on the corners of her lips.

“I do, but this is one of the rare times when I actually mean it. Those blonde curls! Are you freakin' kidding me?”

She padded over to the miniature exam table to get a better look at the infant that was lying contently on her back and chewing on her pudgy albeit still tiny fingers.

“Let’s take a look at how you’re doing, sweet pea.”

The doctor, Melanie, lifted the stethoscope that was looped around her neck and placed it into her ears. Listening to the baby’s heartbeat to check for any abnormalities, she couldn’t help but give a sympathetic frown when the tiny girl under her tensed up from the cool touch of the metal.

“Nurse’s notes say she’s put on quite a bit. She’s finally caught up to her age group in weight. I’m assuming breastfeeding is going better for you both now?”

Melanie lovingly squeezed the extra chub around the baby girl's thighs.

“Yeah. We don’t really use bottles anymore. Finally got her to latch on and now it seems like all she wants to do it eat,” Y/N chuckled.

“Good! That’s good. There’s nothing wrong with formula like we talked about, so don't overexert yourself if becomes too demanding. Breastfeeding is cheaper though," Melanie chucked, though in her head she was kicking herself. As if this family is in any need to save money. "Is she hitting the milestones? Rolling over? Propping her head up? Babbling a bit?” she continued.

“Babbling, definitely. She keeps us up sometimes because we can hear her talking to herself through the monitor at night,” Y/N poked her tongue out at her daughter in an attempt to get her to smile.

“Having a bit of trouble propping herself up though. She can only do it for a little bit and then she’ll give up. She’s got Rafe's big head, so I’m sure it’s a bit of a struggle.”

Melanie laughed loudly at the mention of her patient’s father, admiring Y/N's wittiness even in the absence of her husband. Given the reputation of the Cameron family, others might think the couple were all work and no play, but Melanie had the privilege of getting to know them behind closed doors. While they took doctor's visits seriously, always paying close attention to what the doctors and nurses had to say regarding the health of their firstborn, her experience with the Cameron's changed her outlook completely. Y/N and Rafe were warm, welcoming, and quite funny sometimes - always making jests at each other or sharing little tid-bits of what their life is like at home. She wished everyone could see them this way. Melanie really wasn't lying when she doted on the little girl, they were the best.

“She’ll get to it eventually. All babies are different. She seems to be coming along quite nicely, though. Nothing abnormal or anything to fuss about. A perfectly healthy six-month-old in my book.”

Y/N sighed in relief, though she knew there was nothing to worry over to begin with.

“How’s mum doing? You taking care of yourself, too? You’re just as important as baby.”

“When I can. Rafe's really good with her. He’ll take over when he sees me struggling, but it seems like she only wants me these days. Think I might be coming down with something, though. I’ve been feeling awful for a few weeks. Like I got hit by a train. I keep reminding myself to go get checked out, but I always get distracted taking care of her,” Y/N gestured to her daughter that was now drooling onto the parchment liner and staring up at the ceiling as if there was something ornately interesting about the popcorn texture that had been stippled onto it.

“When you say, ‘hit by a train,’ what do you mean? I can examine you here if you’d like. As long as it’s nothing serious, I can send you something off to the pharmacy.”

Melanie re-fastened the snaps on the infant’s onesie, making sure not to pinch her chunky legs and placed her back into her mother’s lap.

“Ummm,” Y/N began, “Just extra drained, I guess? Kinda nauseous. I’ve been getting migraines a lot and even when I do get a good night’s rest, I still feel like I could go back to bed for the rest of the day. Maybe I’m just exhausted, I don’t really know. But it just feels a bit different than being worn out like I have been before.”

She could see the wheels in Melanie's head turning, noting each of her symptoms and trying to align them in a path that would lead her to the root of the problem.

“Can I ask you something that might be a bit personal?”

Y/N nodded, rubbing her fingers absentmindedly along the bridge of her daughter’s socked foot.

“Have you and Rafe been intimate since she was born?”

She was taken aback by the question, not understanding where Melanie was going with this or why it was relevant.

“Umm,” Y/N stuttered, feeling a static-y surge of embarrassment travel up her neck and onto the sides of her face, “Yeah. We have.”

A whole fucking lot ever since I’ve been cleared for it, Y/N thought, but kept to herself.

“And can you tell me when your last menstrual cycle ended?”

Then it clicked. She genuinely couldn’t recall her most recent period and even the thought of what Melanie was alluding to made her stomach twist into thousands of tiny knots.

“I- I don’t know. I’ve been so busy with her I don’t even really think about what’s going on with me half of the time.”

Y/N tried to make excuses, anything to avoid the obvious, but judging from the quizzical look on her daughter’s pediatrician’s face, she knew exactly where this was going.

“There’s no way,” she whispered, “I can’t be.”

Melanie's face dropped, now tender and apologetic when she realized that this was news Y/N was not ecstatic to hear.

“I know I’m a pediatrician, so that’s obviously the first thing my mind goes to, but can we at least get you to take a blood test? That way we’ll know for sure?”

Rafe came home to a quiet house. It wasn’t unusual, but seeing as it was well after six o’clock in the evening and his wife wasn’t in the kitchen making the pasta dish she'd been dying for all week was. Their grocery store had been out of her favorite canned tomatoes for over a week and she’d nearly tackled Rafe to the ground out of excitement when he’d come home from the grocery store with them the night before. Had he not seen her car in the driveway, he probably wouldn’t have even suspected her to be home.

He checked the living room first, and it was desolate apart from the baby pink, quilted playmat on the floor that was littered with a few of his daughter’s favorite rattles and teethers. Y/N's coat and purse were abandoned haphazardly on the couch, almost as if she tossed it aside in a hurry to get somewhere.

“Baby?” Rafe called out.

Nothing.

His head peaked into the nursery, stealthily and quietly in preparation to walk in on his daughter taking her scheduled nap before her actual bedtime. He’d gotten good at hushing his footfalls to almost complete silence as to not wake her, having made that mistake more than a handful of times.

And he was right. There she was, sprawled out in her crib with her arms outstretched over her head like a tiny starfish. Her chubby cheeks were smushed against her bicep, drawing her lips open the tiniest bit so that Rafe could see the tops of her fleshy, pink gums and the barely-there nub of her first tooth peeking through. More than anything, he wanted to wake her up - lift her from the plush mattress and cuddle her close, shower her with kisses and tickle her with his scruff to hear those baby squeals he adored so much, but he needed to find Y/N first.

She had to be in their bedroom, he thought to himself. Maybe she was taking advantage of their baby girl napping to also get some rest. She had been rather exhausted lately. Maybe she’d had a rough day and was relaxing in the clawfoot, porcelain bathtub that had been the selling point of the home they now lived in. The houses on Figure Eight were lavish, but not all of the bathtubs were - at least that's what Y/N told Rafe. Who was he to question his bride?

Turns out he was right again. Like he had done with the nursery, he held the metal doorknob tightly in his grip to keep the hinges from creeking and pressed it open gently. The room was completely dark, but he could make out the lump underneath the duvet on their king-sized bed as his wife.

Good. She was sleeping.

He padded across the hardwood floor, still being as quiet as he could until he crossed the threshold of the bathroom. There, he rid himself of the uncomfortable clothes he’d been wearing all day. Curse these professional business meetings that forced him to dress nicely.

All throughout the meetings, he wanted nothing more than to be home with his wife and baby, cuddling the afternoon away and watching shitty reality television while his daughter cooed and grunted and gurgled in her baby voice that he loved so much and could listen to all day. He wasn't always this way - he used to love this shit, but something inside him changed indefinitely when his daughter was born. Rafe was a softy now and he wasn't afraid to admit it. Maybe it was the fact that he’d been having to partake in these boring work meetings a lot more lately, which caused him to miss even the smallest aspects of his everyday life like changing diapers or checking the baby monitor eight hundred times throughout the day to make sure his daughter was still breathing. Perhaps he’d just been getting sentimental because she was growing so much these days, but it was an unpleasant feeling nonetheless.

His thoughts were interrupted when he deposited his heavy watch into the dish he kept on the counter and he heard a quiet yet still prominent sniffle among the clattering of metal against the glass dish.

“Baby? You awake?” Rafe peaked his head out from beyond the bathroom door.

He saw her body shift under the covers, but she gave no response. So he called out again.

“You sick or something? Can hear you sniffling."

Nothing.

Pivoting back around to the inside of the bathroom, he quickly shut off the light and carried himself over to her side of the bed where he could see her properly. Her face was tucked into her chin and all that was visible to him was the top of her head.

“Hey,” Rafe cooed, petting what he could reach of her hair and speaking even gentler than he had been, “What’s wrong?”

And that’s when he heard it - an almost inaudible choking sound of Y/N trying to catch her breath that immediately let him know she wasn’t sick. She had been crying.

“Whoa, baby,” he was already pulling the covers back with force, honestly not caring whether or not she minded the intrusion.

“Tell me what’s going on.”

She was emotionless when he saw what little he could her face, her puffy, bloodshot eyes and swollen lips illuminated by the hallway light being the only indicator that she was upset. She didn’t even react to Rafe tugging her head out from where it had been buried in the covers, simply rolling onto her back to stare idly at the ceiling.

“Y/N,” he called for his wife again, this time much more stern, “You’ve got to talk to me.”

She took several deep breaths through her nose, allowing her lungs to fill to their maximum capacity before exhaling with a sigh. Rafe could have sworn she was sucking all of the oxygen out of the room along with his patience each time she did so.

After what felt like ages, she parted her lips to speak.

“I went to the doctor today.”

“Yeah? For the six-month check up, right?” Rafe asked, not seeing why that was important but his mind quickly went to the worst scenario possible despite having just seen his daughter sleeping peacefully in her crib. He cut his eyes towards the hallway in the direction of her nursery before looking back to Y/N.

“Is she alright?” his voice now demanding urgency in the delivery of her response.

“She’s fine,” she quickly dismissed him, internally kicking herself for making Rafe worry.

“I was telling Melanie about how sick I’ve been lately and she -,” Y/N gulped and rubbed her knuckles against her tired eyes, bracing herself for whatever events unfolded after she said what she was about to say.

“She, umm. She made me take a pregnancy test.”

Now it was Rafe turn to be speechless. He stared at her with furrowed brows and his mouth slightly agape. His palms suddenly felt clammy against the white sheets that they rested on and his stomach felt like it had turned in on itself from how badly it was churning. Of all of the things he had expected to be wrong with her, this was certainly the last on the list.

“And?” he asked after what felt like an eternity of staring at her and saying absolutely nothing, though he already knew the answer.

“Ten weeks.”

Silent tears now spilled over her eyes and down past her temples. She couldn’t even be bothered to wipe them, instead letting them dampen a small patch of hair on either side of her head. Pregnancies weren’t supposed to be sad, but somehow, she had barely been able to stop crying since she left the pediatrician’s office.

“How,” Rafe whispered, moreso to himself than to her.

“I think you know how babies are made, Rafe” Y/N quipped.

“That's not what I meant,” Rafe fired back just as quickly, “It’s just...She’s still so little.”

He thought of his daughter asleep in the next room. She was the most perfect thing he’s ever seen and on the day that she was born, he knew he wanted nothing more than to fill his and Y/N’s house with as many blonde, chubby babies as he could fit beds in each room. He just hadn’t expected that his only child’s first birthday present would be the gift of being a big sister.

It was all too sudden.

“I just don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner. I mean,” Y/N raised her arms above her head before huffing and letting them fall to her sides, “I guess I was just so caught up with the baby that I hadn’t even had a second to think about what’s going on with me. It’s like I don’t even matter anymore and I-”

“Hey, hey now. Don't do that,” Rafe shushed her and curled up next to her frame as she began to sob.

He tucked her head into his neck, hugging her chest tightly as if he was trying to hold the pieces of her together before she shattered. His mind was running a mile per minute. It killed him to see her like this, killed him to be in this situation. The last time they had found out this news, there were happy tears - tears of shock and excitement about taking the next step in building a family. Never had he imagined that the next time they were presented with the very same news, that there would be tears of sadness.

Her voice was muffled against his now wrinkled button-down, but he could still make out what she was saying beneath her blubbers.

“I can’t do this.”

“What do you mean, honey? Of course you can. I can take more time off work like last time and let the boys handle everything for a bit. I know it's not ideal, but we’ll be alright,” he ran his hand up and down her arm in an attempt to soothe her.

“That’s the problem, Rafe.”

He lifted his chin from here it was resting on the top of her head to look down at her.

“What?”

“It's not ideal. You've only just now gotten back to work full time. You said everything almost fell apart while you were gone. It would fuck everything up. Plus, she's only six months old, Rafe. I can't go through that again so soon."

Rafe paused to break away from her and sit up straight against the headboard, “Are you serious? Of course I can take more time off work. You are more important than anything that could possibly be going on at the office.” He was a bit stunned by her words. She almost sounded annoyed, which didn't sit quite right with Rafe.

“But do you see what’s happening? Everything is fucked.”

His voice wasn’t so calm anymore.

“No, Y/N. I honestly don’t. I mean I know this is all happening much earlier than we expected, but what else is there to do? Will you please tell me what you're getting at, because I’m starting to get upset.”

Rafe's lips were pressed in a thin, straight line and his nostrils flared with every breath. Why was she being like this?

“I don’t know what I’m fucking getting at. I’m just overwhelmed."

“And you think I’m not? I'm trying my best to keep it together for your sake if you haven’t noticed,” it almost condescending the way the words rolled off his tongue.

“Oh, excuse me,” Y/N laughed sarcastically.

“Didn’t realize you were the one that's pregnant. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to grow all big and gross and swollen and be in pain every fucking day to the point where walking to the bathroom feels like a fucking marathon. Didn’t realize you’re the one that has to feel like you're burning alive from the inside out for hours and then just have to lay there while a doctor you’ve never seen before stitches you up because it literally tore your insides apart. Didn’t realize you-”

“For fuck’s sake, I get it!” Rafe was yelling now. They hadn't argued like this since they were much younger, and he absolutely hated it.

“It’s not the same and I’m sorry for suggesting that it was. I'm not sure what you want me to say though. I’m sorry? Is that it? Sorry for getting you pregnant? Sorry for having a job that helps us get anything we want for ourselves and our family? Sorry that I do everything I possibly can to keep you and the baby and everyone else on the fucking planet happy?”

“You’re being an asshole, Rafe,” she was just as angry as he was, scowl evident on her face even in their dimly lit bedroom.

“And you’re not making any fucking sense! Are you telling me you don’t want to keep it? Because I never fucking said that you have to.”

The thought had crossed her mind on the drive home from the doctor’s office, but the feeling left as quickly as it approached. She’d taken one look at her daughter in her car seat through the rear view mirror happily sucking on her teether and knew without a doubt that she couldn’t.

She felt a tidal wave of fresh, salty tears peaking and about to crash over her.

“I don’t want - fuck,” she put her head in her hands.

“I just-,” and then she broke.

Sobs wracked her body, making her shoulders shake up and down. She wasn’t even sure how she had any more left to get out, but it just kept coming. Over and over and over again until it felt like she was being suffocated and that no one was going to save her. She felt Rafe's hands move to rest on her shoulder blades and heard gentle, cooing-like sounds coming out of his mouth, but she couldn’t make out what he had said over the sounds of her own wailing.

“Baby, it’s okay. Just breathe. It’s alri-”

His attempt at subduing her was cut short by shrill cries coming from the digital monitor that sat on their nightstand. Rafe peeked over his shoulder at the screen, seeing that their daughter had woken from her nap and was now demanding the attention of her parents. He couldn’t help but wince as he watched her socked feet flail around in the crib; it was without a doubt that the screaming match they’d just had that stirred her from her sleep, and that hurt him just as much as it did to see his wife crying right in front of him.

Y/N heard it too, somehow. Perhaps it was because she’d been trained to react to every minute sound that she made and could recognize her cries from a mile away in the paralyzing fear that something was wrong with her or maybe it was because she looking for any and every excuse to get Rafe's hands off of her so she could get away from him and escape the argument they’d just had without making the situation any worse than it already was. Regardless, she turned her own neck to peer at the monitor and sighed heavily.

“I’ll go, Y/N. Just stay here.”

“No. I got it. It’s after seven. She’s probably hungry.”

She shrugged Rafe's hands away from her shoulders like his touch physically pained her and climbed over his body and off the bed without another word, not even giving Rafe the chance to take her hand and help her over the edge of the mattress. He knew she wasn’t going anywhere but down the hall and into the nursery, but he couldn’t help but feel like she was walking away from everything.

Y/N stared her daughter while she nursed. She started from the top of her head that was riddled with sandy blonde curls and worked her way down to the tips of her toes that would occasionally flex themselves out of habit. Her hair? Undoubtedly Rafe's. Her eyes? A perfect, entrancing shade of blue akin to Rafe's. Her lips? The same almost inhuman shade of fleshy pink, just like Rafe's. Surprisingly, the only physical trait she’d inherited from her mother was her nose, which was funny considering that Y/N had always hated hers.

She was content, suckling away at Y/N’s breast - her cries of hunger long forgotten. The infant hadn’t even flinched when a few more of Y/N’s silent, cold tears spilled over and left small wet spots where her onesie rested over her belly. She had no idea that her parents were upset with each other and she had no idea that in a little more than six months time, she’d be a big sister and there would be two babies fighting for their attention. Y/N was also clueless, but only as to how she was going to take care of a newborn and a one-year-old simultaneously. She’d always thought she’d have more time than this - more time to spend with just her daughter and Rafe before they decided to have another, but just like her eyes, things always had a funny way of never working out in her favor.

Three soft knocks on the wall withdrew her from her thoughts and she was greeted by her husband idling in the doorway like he needed permission before entering a room in his own house. It was off seeing Rafe Cameron this way - being the one with his tail tucked beneath his legs. It was usually the opposite. He had changed out of his work clothes and was now clad in his favorite pair of sweats that were permanently stained with spit-up. Y/N had tried everything under the sun to get the spots out, but he’d been persistent on not throwing them out.

“Can I come in?”

His voice was barely above a whisper and much calmer than when he’d been yelling at her about twenty minutes ago. He still hesitated crossing the threshold even after Y/N had given him a skeptical nod, but allowed his bare feet to pad over the plush carpet as he joined her on the loveseat in the far corner of the nursery.

He watched their daughter just as Y/N had, taking in her tranquil state as her fingers brushed reflexively against the underside of Y/N’s breast. He’d never been able to pry his eyes away every time he watched her nurse. There were no ulterior motives behind it whatsoever. It amazed him each and every time, how Y/N was able to provide their child with everything that they needed to grow with only her body. At first, Y/N hated that Rafe loved sitting in on her feedings, feeling exposed and unattractive despite Rafe's continuous affirmations that it was the most beautiful thing he’d ever had the privilege of witnessing, but over time she’d grown fond of it.

“I'm sorry for yelling at you,” Rafe started.

“It was uncalled for,” she quipped.

Y/N sniffled, rubbing her swollen eyes with the back of her free hand that wasn’t supporting her daughter’s back as she held her.

“It’s okay. It was a lot to take in. I’m sorry for yelling at you too.”

She couldn’t quite look him in the eye just yet, but she was slowy but surely getting there.

“It's not okay, actually. You’re right. I’m not the one having the baby. It’s you that’s got to do all the hard stuff and I know how scary it was last time. I should've been more considerate before jumping the gun.”

He shifted towards her on the cushions, afraid to touch her just yet but still yearning to be closer to her.

The best Y/N could muster was a quiet, “Thank you,” before she busied herself by attempting to run her fingers through her baby’s hair and untangle the mess she’d created while she was sleeping.

“Can I hold you? Please?” his voice was quiet and pleading.

Now was when she turned to face him and she was met with eyes that were just as red-rimmed as hers. She had heard the bathroom sink running for an abnormally long amount of time and a hard, frustrated pounding against the wall shortly after she’d gone off in the nursery to feed the baby, which meant he must have been trying to muffle the sounds of his own crying when she left their bedroom.

Y/N didn’t say anything, only shifting her weight onto one side so Rafe could easily lift her onto his lap in one swift movement without disturbing their daughter. He tucked her shoulder into his neck and softly kissed her skin and his hands moved to mimic hers so they were both holding the baby that was nodding off again in their arms. She found herself relaxing into his loose grip, her head tilting to the side to rest against his.

“I love you so much. You know that? I’d drop everything for you if I had to. I don't care about any of it anymore.”

“No, you wouldn’t,” she refuted, but there was no malice in her tone.

“I wouldn’t let you. You try to play it cool and I know that things are different now, but I also know that deep down you really like what you do.” The corner of Rafe's lips turned upwards, suppressing a chuckle at the fact that she really does know him that well.

“Well, just know that I would if you wanted me to. I’ve thought about it a thousand times. I want to be here for you. For her. Don’t want to miss anything. I finally got my shot at being normal when I met you and I hate myself sometimes when I think about all of the bullshit I've put you through.”

“Don’t,” Y/N paused to press a chaste kiss to Rafe's cheek.

“You’re a good person, Rafe's. A good dad. A good husband. Please don’t ever think that you’re not.”

She felt moisture pool in the dips of her collarbones where Rafe's chin lied, but she didn’t acknowledge it.

“I’ll be okay. Sorry if I freaked you out earlier. Think I just need some time to get used to it all. Just wasn’t expecting Melanie to drop the ball that I was pregnant when all I was expecting was for her to tell me that our kid is in the 99th percentile for weight and then send me on my way.”

This got a chuckle out of him, almost causing him to choke on his tears. He quickly rubbed the sleeves of his sweatshirt against his eyes to dry up any remaining wet spots on his face.

“She is pretty chunky, isn’t she?” Rafe jested while thumbing over his daughter’s rounded tummy.

After a moment of admiring their little chunk of a baby, with her milk-drunk eyes and puckered lips, Rafe spoke again.

“Two babies,” he huffed.

“Two babies,” she repeated.

His hands moved to caress Y/N’s stomach. She wasn’t showing yet considering that neither of them had even known Y/N was pregnant until today, but he still held her like her belly was the size of a watermelon and he was waiting anxiously to feel a hand or a foot press up against his palm.

“Might be kinda nice. They can share everything and we’ll only have to have one birthday party because they’ll be born around the same time. They’ll go to the same school and probably have the same friends. Kinda like twins.”

“Are you hearing yourself? Rafe Cameron? The party connoisseur? Suggesting his two precious babies share a birthday party?”

Rafe pursed his lips and blushed, recalling the fact that he'd already planned his daughter's first birthday in his head. Down to the tablecloth colors and dinnerware.

“Got me there,” Rafe chuckled.

Their banter was interrupted by a grueling rumbling sound coming from Y/N’s stomach that Rafe could feel throughout his entire body.

“Jesus, Y/N. You hungry too? When’s the last time you ate?”

“Uhh...this morning I think?” Y/N sighed.

“Couldn’t stomach anything when I got home.”

Rafe's heart dropped when he thought of how distraught she’d been all day while he was gone and with everything in him, he’d wished he would have postponed his meetings to go to check up with her and they could have found out together.

“Found those tomatoes at the store the other day, remember? Want me to make that pasta for you?”

“Ohh, yes please,” she immediately perked up at the thought.

“Starting to wonder if that was a craving now that I think about it. Didn’t we have it, what? Three nights in a row a while back?” she proposed.

Rafe giggled as he reluctantly removed Y/N from his lap and stood up from the sofa.

“Thought it was a bit weird that you wanted it so badly, but I know better than to question you.”

“She’s going back down. If you give me a minute, I’ll come downstairs and help you,” Y/N said, pulling up the straps of her tank top after realizing her daughter had long since forgotten about her breast and was conked out in her arms.

“I've got it, mama” Rafe quickly refuted. “Take a bath or something and I’ll bring it up when it’s done.”

“Okay.”

Y/N couldn’t fight the grin growing on her face at the nickname Rafe used that she still hadn’t gotten used to.

When she placed their daughter soundly in her crib, Y/N’s fingers stayed put from where they sat on the railing as she caught herself staring at the sleeping infant once more. Though she’d felt like her world was caving in on her just a handful of hours ago, the pieces were all coming back together now.

Of course, she wanted more children with Rafe. And now she was getting what she wanted. Just like he’d told her back in the bedroom, it wasn’t ideal, but they’d make it work. They always did.

With two babies.

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #dad!rafe #dad!rafe x reader #dad rafe #dad!rafe x pregnant!reader #dad!rafe x fem!reader #rafe x pregnant!reader #dad!rafe cameron #mine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron one shot #drew starkey x reader

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sturnina · 25 days ago

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Sleep Paralysis

Matt Sturniolo x reader

― tags;; sleep paralysis angst, lowkey hallucinations, angst with a sprinkle of fluff at the end, happy ending, hurt/comfort

― wc;; 930

― author's note;; feel free to take inspo, just tag me if you do and don't copy the entire thing + english is not my first language, so i apologise for mistakes <3

Exhausted, tired, worn out — none of these words quite describe the state you’re in. You’re moving drowsily, your hands shaking as you pick up your phone to set an alarm for tomorrow. The warm pillows welcome you as you lean back, sinking into the mattress. Matt looks up from his phone as he hears your relieved sigh.

“Tired?” he asks, chuckling.

You mumble something incoherent, so ready to fall asleep. He turns around and softly presses a kiss on your cheek, silently wishing you goodnight before rolling onto his other side to continue watching TikToks.

At this point, you’re far too gone to care that he’s not cuddling you. All you need is the warmth of the bed, his even breaths from next to you, and the safety of his room while you let your thoughts wander, waiting for the comfortable embrace of sleep.

You’ve been up since four in the morning, almost working non-stop. The only moments where Matt could convince you to take a break were for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. He forced you to go out with him to a restaurant, so you wouldn’t be buried in work for the entire day.

Usually, you’re not a workaholic like this but today you simply had too much to do and couldn’t bring yourself to stop. But now it was time to just relax, to let go of your worries, your racing thoughts, everything that was on your mind the entire day.

Like the fact that you still haven’t replied to that one E-mail… fuck. But it’s too late now, you’re already falling asleep, you can’t focus on that now… Your heart rate which had calmed down so comfortably starts picking up again, and you feel yourself take a deep breath.

Matt’s hand is in yours — did he go to sleep now as well? How long have you been lying awake? It can’t be that long… But you’re not asleep now, and you can see, but aren’t your eyes closed? Your body is heavy, so heavy, and you try to hold on to Matt’s hand, but you can see, and you see that he is not there, he is not in the bed, but something is holding onto your hand, you can feel something in your hand…

And the room is wrong, so wrong, it isn’t safe anymore, why isn’t Matt’s room safe? It’s supposed to be safe, to be warm, it’s supposed to be just you two in here, but there is something more, something else, and your thoughts are racing, but your body won’t move, and you’re trapped, in his bed, in your body…

Nothing is holding your hand anymore, and you can see that the bed is empty — Where is Matt? — but you can’t move, you’re heavy, your heart is racing, and there is someone, something, staring at you, looking down at you, piercing you, trapping you, and you’re fighting, but your throat is clogged, your voice is empty, and your lungs are so full. Your breath catches in your throat, and there is something in the corner of Matt’s room, which is supposed to be safe, and it’s moving… Is it moving? Is it coming closer? Is it taking a step toward you, across the room? It is.

Your breath hitches, your eyes water, your body trembles, you don’t like this, you don’t like this, you don’t like this, this isn’t good, this is not good… It is closer now, you don’t know what it is, a shadow, a demon, a person, you don’t know, you don’t want to know, but it is too close now…

You want to scream, to cry, to call out, to yell for help, for anyone, for anything, but your throat is tight and unmoving, and you can’t move, you still can’t move… A weight is pressing down on your chest, stealing your breath, stealing the air you should be breathing.

It is too close, way too close, your entire body is limp, and you can’t do anything as it comes closer and closer, as you see it leaning down to you, as you see it reaching out…

And someone shakes you, holds your shoulders, moves you — you’re moving, you’re moving, you’re not heavy anymore, but you still can’t breathe, your arms are limp, your mind is foggy…

Matt holds you.

His arms are around you, safely, holding you against him, pressing you against his chest; you can feel the warmth, the safety. The pressure in your lungs slowly sinks, and you take a deep breath, sucking in the air greedily. Tears stain your cheeks, and you lift your hand — finally— and hug Matt, clinging to him because this is safe, you’re safe again. You are safe again in his room, in his bed, in his arms.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he whispers in your ear, and you finally move, you finally take deep breaths, you finally feel your body again.

But it feels wrong, and you’re just looking, just staring, too scared to move, too scared to speak, because what if you can’t? But you have to because your throat is clogging up again, your lungs are stuffed again, and you finally speak.

“Am I- is- am I awake?” you ask, your voice just as shaky as you feel, just as weak as the small breaths you take, just as unsure as your lungs as you continue breathing.

“Yes,” Matt says, his voice clear and soft, his hand on your hair, brushing over it, holding you close. “Yes. You’re alright.”

“I’m alright,” you whisper, leaning into his touch. “I’m alright.”

― nina speaks;; sleep paralysis’s are nastyy. i once legit thought someone took my hand lmao

masterlist

#matt sturniolo x reader #matt sturniolo fluff #matt sturniolo #matt sturniolo angst #sturniolo fic #sturniolo #sturniolos #sturniolo fluff #sturniolo angst #chris sturniolo #nick sturniolo #matthew sturniolo #sturniolo triplets

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aliteralsemicolon · 7 months ago

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3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes

When Spencer doesn’t call at midnight on your birthday like he usually does, you believe he truly wants nothing to do with you because of your fight a few days prior. Until there are two FBI agents knocking on your door, neither of which are your apparently missing boyfriend.

Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader

DISCLAIMER This story is SFW but mentions strong themes. It is intended for mature audiences only. You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you don’t like it, don’t read.

WARNING: Mentions of kidnapping, injuries & vague description of panic attack. Proceed at your own risk.

Word count: 8.6K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.

11:57 PM

Eyes trained on the long red hand, you watch as the minutes spin around the clock hanging on the otherwise-empty wall. A century could’ve passed between the last minute and now. It sure as hell feels like it.

11:58 PM

The movie meant to keep your mind from replaying the events from a few days ago failed its purpose before you even turned on the T.V. If the time between every minute was a century, then the last time you heard from him must have been an eternity ago. When was the last time you heard from him anyway?

“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”

In all your time together, Spencer had never once raised his voice at you. The fact remained even during your worst fight yet. God, how you wished he had yelled at you. Maybe then he would’ve needed less time away from you.

“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”

He was unfair. So were you. Surely neither of you truly meant what was said. You wanted to be near him so, so badly. Did he really not want to see you anymore? He must not, or Spencer would have returned at least one of the twenty four calls he ignored.

11:59 PM

It was well-intentioned on your part. The migraines were most likely psychosomatic. Otherwise the MRI scans would’ve picked up on the issue.

“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”

“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”

“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”

“GOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? You’re completely reaching! You just don’t want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head!”

12:00 AM

Perhaps he did mean what he said. He’d still call though, right? If not to return one of your voicemails then to wish you a happy birthday? After everything the two of you shared together he should at least call today.

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

Unsure of how much longer you could hold out, you uncurl from your fetal position on the sofa and reach over for your phone. Vision peeling from the wall-clock and redirecting to the photo on your lockscreen. How beautiful he looked adorned on your screen. Then again, he always looked beautiful.

12:31 AM

‘Twelve thirty one’ read the time on your screen. The first thirty one minutes of your birthday were spent replaying exactly what you wanted to avoid. He must’ve fallen asleep. He would never intentionally miss his tradition of wishing you a happy birthday, 12AM, on the dot. “That was before you ruined everything”, your mind began. “You ruined everything”, it repeats over and over in a mantra.

“He hates me. He would’ve called if he didn’t.” a whisper only for yourself to hear. Minutes passing you by once more as you begin your spiral into doubt and self-hatred. Tears completely stain your skin, clothes, the blanket hugging your legs. Your vision is too blurred to notice it. What you do notice is that you can not breathe. Shit. You can not breathe.

“Five things” You can almost hear his voice whisper into your mind. “Five things”, you repeat aloud.

“Five things you can see.” As his voice begins to guide, your eyes frantically wander. “The blanket on my lap. My hands curled on top of it. The coffee table in front of me. The T.V playing across from me. The wall-clock hanging just above on the wall behind.”

“Four things you can touch” Not waiting a second before answering to the thought of his voice: “The cushion next to me. The couch beneath me. The sweatshirt I’m wearing. The rings on my fingers.”

“Three things you can hear” Tuning your focus on the sounds around you continue, “The T.V playing. The cars passing by outside. That stupid wall-clock ticking.”

“Two things you can smell” This one was always your least favourite because you had to think the hardest. You could hardly breathe a minute ago and your nose is clogged. How can you smell anything? “I can’t smell anything. I can never smell anything.”

“That’s okay. It’s okay. Just tell me one thing you can taste” . His voice was engraved in your brain. You probably couldn’t forget it if you tried. “Salt.”

Shoulders slumping into your body, you wipe the tears clouding your line of sight and dare to look up at the clock once again. If it could speak it would probably taunt you for your pathetic state.

12:56 AM

You barely make out the time as your eyes begin to cloud again. At least you can breathe normally now. Except your head is throbbing, your eyes are sore and you’re so tired. Sinking back into your previous fetal position, you feel your body give out. As you drift off, you make one final plea for your sanity: “He probably just fell asleep. He’ll call when he wakes up.”

The pounding headache was bad enough, but the rapid pounding against your door made you want to shout violently. As if your body was now on auto-pilot, you attempt to jump up from your position on the sofa - only to not so gracefully trip over your blanket and almost face plant into the coffee table. “Fuck-AH-bitch”, you grumble just as you manage to catch yourself. “I’m coming in just a minute!” Yelling for the very impatient recipient at the other side of your door. You quickly give the clock a glance before making your way to the hallway mirror.

2:07 PM

You aren’t vain, you’re just a decent enough human to save the person outside your apartment a jumpscare from your post-ugly-crying state. When you stood in front of the mirror and actually saw yourself for the first time today, you didn’t believe there was anything you could do to save that person. That person could be Spencer. So you gave it an attempt, regardless, quickly brushing your hair out with your fingers and wiping the dried tears from your face. Finally shuffling to the door, you take a deep breath as you unlock it. He probably just showed up instead of calling. At least that’s what you wanted to believe.

“Oh. Derek? JJ?”, instead you find two of his friends and FBI profilers, who definitely caught the disappointment in your voice. “What are you doing here?”

“Hey Pretty Girl. Any chance Pretty Boy is somewhere behind you?” Morgan asks, slightly concerned by your poorly concealed state.

“Hi, sorry, no, he’s not here.” You blurt out as you make eye contact with your nosy neighbour passing by. You consider inviting the agents inside for privacy, but remember that your living room shares the same messy look as you and abort that thought.

“Can we come inside?” JJ asks for you, also noticing the unwanted eavesdropper.

“Um, sure”, you hesitate, clearly embarrassed. “Excuse the mess, I wasn’t expecting company.” The agents share a look that you miss and follow behind as you quickly begin to tidy up a little.

“Hey, are you okay?” JJ follows up.

“Huh? Yeah, I’m fine. Why are you looking for Spencer here?” You were deflecting. She definitely knew that you were deflecting, but didn’t push further and for that you were grateful.

“He’s not at work and he’s not picking up his cell. So we thought he might be with you.” Morgan answers you, taking a quick glance around.

“When did you last talk to him?” JJ cuts in.

“Uh, two days ago I think?” Your breath hitches at your first reminder of the fight you had.

“Two days?” JJ’s brows furrow in a questioning manner towards Morgan, who looks just as confused. “Are you sure?” He chimes in, not waiting for your reply before he dials a number on his phone and rushes off towards your kitchen.

“Yes, I’m sure…” your eyes follow him as he disappears and quickly snap your attention back towards the blonde woman in front of you. “JJ what’s going on?”

“Exactly what time did you last see him?” She ignores your question. The slight panic in her voice is contagious and begins to shift into you. “Well I don’t know the exact time, but I’d guess some time just before midnight? When did you last see him?”

Before she can answer, Morgan calls your name as he walks back in. “Get dressed. You’re gonna need to come back to The Bureau with us.”

“The Bureau? Okay, seriously guys, what’s going on?”

“I’ll explain later. JJ and I are gonna wait here while you get dressed okay?” His tone was assertive.

“No, you’re going to explain right now actually, what the fuck is going on?” But you were too worried to care about his tone.

He took a deep breath, clearly frustrated. “Spencer’s been missing for two days. ” Realisation spreads across JJ’s face as she puts the pieces together, “ And I think you might’ve been the last person to see him.”

3:42 PM.

You were currently sitting alone in one of the interview rooms at the FBI Headquarters, phone in hand, repeatedly checking the time. Morgan and JJ gave you time to clean up and get dressed before leaving your apartment. None of you uttered a single word on your way here and JJ led you into this room, telling you to get comfortable and to let her know if you needed anything.

Somebody was supposed to come in and interview you, but you had been waiting for at least twenty minutes now. The room itself was mostly empty, except for two muted couches in the middle facing each other, separated by a small table. An old rug laid under the setting and a couple of stock pictures were hung on the walls. You had taken JJ’s invitation and claimed a spot in the corner seat of one of the couches, facing the door, but sitting as far away from it as you could.

The air conditioner was set at room temperature but everything felt cold. Spencer was missing and you were definitely the last person to see him. You felt like the worst person in the world right now. The man that you loved more than anything in the world was missing and the last thing you ever said to him was that you didn’t want to be around him.

What did missing even mean in this situation? Did he just decide to up and disappear? That would be believable if he was anybody else, but this was Spencer. He would still say goodbye to his friends before leaving. Friends who were also his coworkers. Coworkers at his extremely dangerous job. If Spencer was missing then it wasn’t because he chose to be. Which means that there’s a strong possibility that he’s really hurt, or dead.

Your mind was filled with so many concerns and had you not heard the door handle click, you probably would’ve driven yourself into another panic attack. A raven-haired woman walks into the room and takes a seat opposite to you on the couch across yours.

“Emily!”

“Hey, how are you holding up?”

“Have you found Spencer? Is he okay-” The questions begin piling out of you.

“Woah, take a deep breath okay.” She cuts off your worrisome ramble before it begins.

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” You cry out in frustration before catching your tone. You take a short, deep breath and continue, “I’m sorry. I’m just really worried okay. I’ve been here for god knows how long and nobody will tell me anything and I just really need to know if Spencer’s okay.”

Emily slightly tilts her head as she looks at you, slightly narrowing her eyes in sympathy. “It’s okay, I understand. You feel really isolated right now because you don’t know what’s going on,” she leans in a little “but the truth is, we don’t entirely know what’s going on either. All we know is that Spencer hasn’t been to work in two days and you were the last person to see him.”

You stare back at her with an apologetic look and the two of you share a brief silence of understanding. As worried as you were right now, you had to remember that Emily and everybody else in the BAU were also extremely worried. You nodded, not saying anything.

“I need you to tell me about the last time you saw him." She’s the first to break the silence.

Instead of simply responding, you stare at her blankly. You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. It was like you physically couldn’t respond. You couldn’t even let yourself think about the last time you saw him. The guilt was overbearing, it was pushing tears to well in your eyes. Sighing, you take a gulp and try to get yourself together. Eyes wandering everywhere except towards Emily.

“You okay?” She questions for the second time, giving you the same narrow-eyed look as before, but this time there’s concern behind her eyes.

You try to respond but all you can do is bite the inside of your cheek. Emily’s presence was a welcome distraction from the current situation, until it wasn’t a distraction anymore. She’d unknowingly pushed you back into the headspace you desperately needed to stay out of to keep composed. It wasn’t her fault, you knew she was just doing her job. However, right now you desperately needed her to go away or you were going to completely break down.

Then for the first time in days the universe took pity on you. It leaned into the room in the form of one colourful Penelope Garica, giving you a rushed greeting and ushering Emily out of the room.

“Hey Em, sorry to interrupt, but we need you in the conference room. By that I mean like yesterday.” Garcia turned towards you and squeaked a sad “Good to see you again, I wish it was under different circumstances.” before disappearing. Emily drops a quick “Excuse me” as she gets up and disappears after her.

You knew she would be back. For now, you had time to calm down and you were extremely grateful for that. Taking deep breaths, you check your phone again. There on your screen was Spencer, smiling back at you brightly. You glance at the time again.

4:03 PM

Your eyes instantly land back on his face. They must have stayed staring for a while; before you knew it Emily had re-entered the room. “What’re you doing there?” The sudden interruption from her voice pulled you out of your trance. “Huh? Oh-Sorry, I was just checking the time.” A half-lie. “It’s 4:17.”

No verbal response. Her only response was a look you couldn’t entirely make out as she took a seat in her previous place. “Emily, is everything okay? Did something happen?”

“I need to tell you something and you need to listen to the full thing, okay? Spencer’s been kidnapped.” She nervously bit her lip as she broke the news to you. “Garcia pulled a recording from a surveillance camera on the street outside your apartment building.”

“What..” You interrupted, unintentionally. “What do you mean kidnapped? Outside my apartment?”

“Look. I won’t lie to you, this is bad. You were the last person to see Spencer and then he’s taken from outside your apartment-”

“Wait a minute, are you telling me that I’m a suspect?” The second time you cut her off, she leans forward and takes your hand in hers. “Listen to me. The whole thing okay? No interruptions.” Her patient tone gives you some comfort. You nod, giving her the go ahead to continue.

“Now, in normal cases, those closest to the victim would be looked at as initial suspects. But this is not a normal case. You aren’t a suspect but you might be the key in finding him. I’m going to play the recording for you in just a minute and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything. Before I play anything though, we’re going to have to run a cognitive interview and recall your last day with Spencer. I understand that it may be hard, but if you want to help find Spencer, you’re going to have to.”

As your mind processes her words, your hand attempts to close into a fist and squeezes hers. “Emily, I can’t” are the only words you can bring yourself to say.

“Why?” She’s quick to ask in surprise.

“Because it’s horrible, Emily. The last thing we did was fight. The last thing I told him was that I didn’t want to be around him.” You spit out before you can stop yourself.

The woman sighs as she mumbles your name, “You can’t possibly blame yourself for this. All couples fight. You couldn’t have known this would happen. I promise you, no matter how bad you think it is, it really cannot be worse than not finding Spencer.”

Her words are blunt, but her voice is empathetic. It’s just what you needed to hear to break out of your ego. “Okay, what do you need?”

“I need you to close your eyes okay. Just listen to the sound of my voice as I guide you.” The brunette instructs. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. “Think back to that day. What were you doing when you first saw Spencer?”

“We met at our favourite café after he got home from work. He had missed our date the night before and wanted to make it up to me. I was checking the time when I heard him call out my name from behind me.” You begin to recall.

“Okay, you turn around to see him. What’s happening around you? Is it busy?”

“No, it’s actually really quiet compared to usual. There’s maybe four or five other people here besides us.”

“What was Spencer like? His behaviour, was he acting like he normally does when you’re together?”

“He was pretty normal at first. He just looked tired, more than he usually does. But it wasn’t until we started talking that I noticed that something was off.”

“What was off?”

“He just wasn’t present like he usually was. I could tell that he wasn’t feeling great, so I insisted we go back to his place. It was closer than mine.”

You continued recalling the events of the night. When you turned on the light as you entered his apartment, he hissed slightly. That’s when you realised what was going on. He admitted that his migraines were back after some pushing. You asked him if he’d gone to the doctors and he told you how they’d found nothing again. You sat him down on the couch, got him some painkillers and brewed some tea for him. He began ranting about how there had to be something wrong. That’s when you suggested that the migraines could be stress induced. The two of you began arguing not long after that.

“Spence, have you, maybe, considered that the migraines are psychosomatic? Probably from all the stress you face at work?”

“What does my job have to do with this? What are you saying?”

“I’m just saying that you have a stressful job. It can take a pretty heavy toll. Stress is a common factor for migraines.”

“No, not like this. I just need to find another doctor. One that can actually help.”

“How many doctors will you see before you finally understand that it’s in your head?”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing. I’m sorry, I should have worded that better.”

“You think I’m crazy? I am not crazy!”

“Spencer, I’m not implying that you are! I’m saying that it’s probably stress induced-”

“No! No. That’s not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.”

“What? No. That’s not at all what I’m saying.”

“But it’s what you’re thinking”

“No, it’s what you’re thinking, Spencer.”

“Don’t hold back now, just come out and say it.”

“Leave. Please.”

“Spencer..”

“Stop. Please. Leave.”

“Wait Spence-”

“I don’t want to see you anymore. I can’t even bear to look at your face right now.”

“Yeah? I don’t want to be near you anyway. Not when you’re being like this!”

Emily’s hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your head, “Hey, it’s okay. Take a deep breath for me.” And so you do, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Once she’s sure you're calm, she leans back in her seat and continues, “You’re doing great. I need you to go back to the café. Was there anything or any one out of place?”

You think back. You and Spencer were sitting just by the entrance. There was another couple ordering at the counter. You could smell flowers. Not the nice, light, floral kind of scent. It was the loud, head-ache inducing, overpowering roses kind. It was coming from your left, where there were two old ladies sitting not too far from your table, lost in their own conversation. Behind them, in the far left corner, there was a man sat glaring at Spencer. You couldn’t really see the man that well but, nothing felt out of place.

“No.” You mumble in disappointment, unable to remember anything out of the ordinary. Wait. The man in the corner. “Yes, yes there’s some guy. He’s barely in my vision, but he was glaring at Spencer. I made eye contact with him once as I entered but I didn’t think anything of it.”

“I need you to really think hard,” Emily urges, “What can you remember about this man? Any distinct details?”

“Um, he was dressed in dark clothing and wearing a beanie. There isn’t really anything that stands out. I’m sorry Emily.”

“No, it’s okay you did great. You can open your eyes now.” You do so, greeted by the sight of Emily across from you fidgeting with the tablet in her lap. “I’m going to show you the recording and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything from it.”

She passes the tablet over and you click play. It’s a little blurry but you can see Spencer walking on the street outside your apartment building. It looks like he’s making his way over to your place. A man shows up out of, seemingly, nowhere and bumps into him. Spencer appears to become drowsy, unable to coordinate his movement at all. Thirty seconds later, a black van pulls up and that same man from before yanks your boyfriend into the van before it drives off.

Your stomach drops. “Fuck, Emily! He was right there. He was right outside my apartment. They took him…I should’ve…oh my god..” If you thought you were gonna have a panic attack before, you were in for a heart attack now.

Emily tries to call your attention using your name as she grabs hold of your hands, “You need to take some more deep breaths okay, panicking now is not going to help.” She’s right. Spencer has already been kidnapped, panicking isn’t going to bring him back. The video replays in your head, you recognise something.

“Wait Emily..the man - that man from the café. That’s the same man. The one who bumped into Spencer. He’s wearing the same clothes and everything. Oh my god, was he following us the whole time?” The realisation seeps through your body and shivers run down your spine. Spencer was being watched the entire time you were together. “Why did they wait? Why didn’t they just take me out and then kidnap Spencer?”

“I don’t know the answer to that, but you’ve helped a lot. Now I’m going to go and tell the rest of the team what you’ve told me, okay? But you need to stay here.”

“Why? I can’t just wait here forever, how is that gonna help?” you question. You couldn’t just sit here alone with your thoughts, you needed to get out.

“Those men that took Spencer, they clearly know about you. This puts you in danger and we don’t know what their plan is. Here is the safest place for you to be. I’m going to send an agent to sit outside that door,” She points at the brown door that serves as the only entry and exit to the room you’re currently in, “His name is Agent Anderson. You tell him if you need anything at all, but you need to stay here. Please.”

You watch her stand up hurriedly and head for the door. You know she’s right. They can’t search for Spencer if they also have to worry about your safety. Getting Spencer back was the most important thing. “Okay.” You agree. “But Emily,” she turns back to look at you from the doorway, “Please bring him back, okay?”

“We will.” She Promises. It may be an empty promise. There’s no guarantee that he’s even alive, but it's enough to keep you hoping for now. Spencer has to be okay.

Spencer’s POV

It’s not very often a person finds themselves escaping death’s grasp. The chances of the same person escaping death twice is even less likely. Yet here I am, in the back of an ambulance, on my way to the hospital, having escaped death for the second time in my life. Hopefully, it won't cost me an addiction this time. “Rossi this is ridiculous, I’m fine!” I insisted to the older man next to me, looking over me like a watchdog. I was already aware that my injuries were serious enough to warrant a hospital visit, but I hoped that the EMT’s would ignore that regardless. I need to get back to her, I just want to hold her as soon as possible. “Sir, you need to lie back down” I hear a voice instruct from my right. Then I hear Dave from my left.

“Kid, you are not fine. The sooner we get you to the hospital the sooner you can leave. Now lie back down and let the medics do their job.” How am I supposed to stress the seriousness of the situation in my drugged up state? My girlfriend is in danger! “No Rossi, I need to see that she’s alright, you don’t understand. They got me from right outside her apartment, they know about her!” Why doesn’t he understand? “Reid, relax. She’s been at headquarters since yesterday afternoon. She’s fine. She’ll meet you there, Anderson’s driving her there as we speak.” I have to count on this reassurance for the time being, because I was clearly not getting my way anytime soon.

Wait yesterday? “No Rossi, that's not right. What day is it? What time?” Guilt surged my veins, did I really miss the most important day of the year? “It’s Friday. Wait no, Saturday now, about uhhh,” he paused “1:43 AM.” No, no, no. “Saturday? She spent her birthday at headquarters? That wasn’t the plan!” I desperately needed to explain something to Rossi, but I couldn’t find the right words. I couldn’t even fully remember what I needed to explain. “Okay, Sir, I’m going to have to inject you with a light dose of tranquillisers if you don’t calm you down.” I hear the voice on my right say.

“No, don’t touch me! Get away from me! Rossi-” My objections are interrupted by Rossi on the left again “Kid, you’re heavily drugged right now and you’re not making sense. You need to calm down. Just do as the nice lady says.” I’m entirely perplexed. What lady? And where am I right now? I try to make sense of my situation but my senses are suddenly taken over by a strong sense of drowsiness. I feel at peace, but something has to be wrong because I can hear rapid beeping behind me. “Sir, you need to keep your eyes open, do not fall asleep!”

Your POV

Somebody’s hand hesitantly shaking your shoulder wakes you up. You slowly open your eyes to see Agent Anderson crouching in front of you. Before he can get a word in edgewise, you start throwing out questions at the poor man and rush to sit up-right. “Agent? What happened? Did they find him? Is he okay?” The rapid fire of questions knocks your own breath out of your lungs and forces you to pause for a deep breath, allowing Anderson to cut in. “They found him! I’m not entirely sure of his condition, but he’s on his way to the hospital and so is the team. I can drive you so you can meet them there.” He stands up and walks towards the door, holding it open for you.

“Yes! Please! Let’s go!” You don’t even hesitate as you respond, jumping up from your seat and practically running towards the door. The journey from the building, to the car, then to the hospital is another blur. Spencer fills your mind, as usual, while your eyes are fixated on the time displayed on the dashboard. You watch the minutes pass the whole ride. ‘2:13 AM, 2:14 AM, 2:15 AM, 2:16 AM’ and finally as you arrive at the hospital:

2:17 AM

“You head on in, I’m going to park and follow behind you.” Anderson breaks the streak of silence. The car barely comes to a stop before you jump out and make a bee-line for the doors. You probably look like a maniac running up to the reception desk. “Hi Ma’am, how can I help you?” The receptionist asks unfazed, probably used to seeing maniacs like you. “Spencer Reid. That’s the patient's name. Where is Spencer Reid?” You pester urgently. “Just a moment please.” The receptionist smiles as she begins to type on her keyboard. She turns back to you after a few seconds, instructing you on where to go. “Thank you!” You don’t even blink after she’s done speaking and immediately head towards where you're guided.

As you enter the waiting room, you’re greeted with the faces of his team from the BAU. “Hi! There you are!” Garcia is the first to notice you, coming in for a hug. “Hey, how is he?” you ask hugging back, no time for proper pleasantries. The rest of the team start making their way up to you one by one for a quick greeting too. “We don’t know yet, the doctor should be out soon to let us know.” Derek, the last one to hug you hello, answers. That’s never good to hear, nervousness covering your face. “Don’t lose hope, he’s going to be just fine!” Rossi interjects your train of thought before it can even begin. Damn profilers. Anderson, true to his word, shows up too.

Feeling slightly ashamed for your rushed behaviour you apologise and thank him for his patience. He assures you that there’s no need and he understands, before Hotch sends Anderson home for the weekend. It seems like everybody in that room takes turns sitting and pacing around. Everyone except you. Your eyes are glued to the clock at the entrance, occasionally making small talk with the others. It’s officially been three excruciating days since you’ve last seen Spencer and even now, as he’s just a few metres away, you’re unable to see him. “Happy belated birthday.” Rossi whispers, taking a seat next to you. You turn to face him, slightly stunned. “Sorry?”

“I said happy belated birthday.” He repeats. You can only return a puzzled look, unable to muster the common ‘thank you’. “Spencer. He told me, in the ambulance.” He answers your unasked question. A single tear manages to escape your eye before you sniffle and re-adjust to compose yourself.

“How bad is it?” Your boyfriend's condition is your immediate concern.

“You know it’s funny,” the old man ignores your question, knowing it’s better to not worry you further, “the whole ride here the kid would not stop going on about needing to be there for you. It’s like he was unable to comprehend anything in regards to himself. And now here I am, talking to you, and it’s like you’re unable to comprehend anything that doesn’t concern him.” He takes an almost dramatic pause so he can look you in the eyes, like he’s trying to pass on an unspoken message. Whatever that message was, you didn’t understand it.

He knew you didn’t, because he continued, “even in extreme situations like this one, you think about each other before you think of yourselves. You truly love each other. So, whatever happened before this, let it go. Feeling guilty about it won’t help.” With that he got up from his seat and headed towards the vending machine. Damn profilers. You don’t have a chance to linger on his advice for too long before the doctor shows up. “Spencer Reid?”

Everybody gathers almost immediately around the doctor, waiting to be updated. “He’s got a broken rib, minor concussion, a few deep bruises, specifically around the abdomen, and other minor cuts and bruises. Other than that he’s been heavily sedated, but he’s going to be fine. He’ll be knocked out for a couple of hours, but he’ll be just fine. You’re welcome to see him now, but only two at a time please.” Almost immediately as the doctor leaves, the group turns to look at you and JJ pipes up first. “Would you like to go in first?”

You couldn’t wait to see him before, but now the nerves were getting to you. “No. You guys go in first.”

“Are you sure?” Emily asks.

“We’re allowed two at a time, you know.” Derek reminds you.

“Yeah! The rest of us can take turns while you sit with him!” Garcia pipes up, softly.

“No, come on guys. He’s just as important to you as he is me. Besides I’ll be here for a while, the rest of you need to get home. I can see him after.” You reason.

“Okay. If you insist. But if you change your mind, let us know.” Emily nods, as she begins to head towards Spencer’s room.

You were sitting in the waiting room once more, while the team had taken turns going in and out of Spencer’s room. Eyes trained on the clock, again.

4:31 AM

Most of the team had headed home by now. You were honestly surprised they stayed as long as they did, knowing how late it was and how exhausted most of them were. The only people left besides you were Derek and Hotch. Jack was away at a sleepover so Hotch decided to stay longer, feeling responsible for Spencer. “What’s going on in that mind, Pretty Girl?” Derek now sat across from you.

“Derek!” you jumped slightly, not expecting him. “Nothings going on. Why? Is Spencer okay?”

“You know you keep doing that. Deflecting.” He doesn’t let you get away with it this time.

“I’m not.” You persist.

“You are. Look, Spencer’s one of my closest friends and by extension you’re also my friend. I’m not going to force you to talk about it if you don’t want to, but just know that I am here to listen.” He persists harder.

“Derek, I just…I don’t know what to say. Not just to you, but to him. The last time I saw him, we fought. He said he didn’t want to see me anymore. I know it’s all in my head, but I can’t stop thinking about if he meant it. What if he truly doesn’t want to see me?”

“Woah, woah! Pretty Girl, c’mon. He’s crazy about you, you know that. You’re practically all he ever talks about. I can promise you that no matter how bad you think that fight was, he won’t let it ruin what you have.” The reaffirmations from Emily, Rossi and now Derek were honestly unnecessary. You were a rational person, you already knew everything they’d said to you. The emotions just overpower your rationality at times but hearing those closest to Spencer confirm was how you knew for sure that it’s true. “Thank you, Derek” You responded with a small, but confident smile.

“He’s awake.” Hotch alerts the two of you. FBI training must be heavy on sneak attacks because these fucking profilers had unbelievably light steps. You turn to face the usually monotone man and instead, catch him sporting a relieved smile. He meets your eyes directly as he speaks, “He’s asking for you.” A hopeful huff leaves you as you stand up. “Go get 'em beautiful!” Derek encourages. You thank both him and Hotch, making your way to Spencer's room. You take a deep breath as you approach the door, but before you enter, you make a final note of the time.

4:55 AM

“Hi Angel.” Spencer’s voice weakly acknowledges your arrival in an instant. Your heart feels a mix of hurt and relief at the sight in front of you. His figure’s confined to the gurney and linked with tubes to an IV drip. With every step bringing you closer to him you’re able to make out more of his injuries. Bruises on almost every part of his visible skin, an especially large one covering the surface around his cheekbone, eye and temple. Cuts on his nose, lips, arms - you bite your lip trying to hold back the tears welling you eyes again. “Please say something.” He begs, matching the same pained look as you.

Rossi’s words were starting to make sense. While you looked at your lover in guilt over his marred state, he looked back at you with guilt for worrying you. “You look like hell.” Maybe not the most sensible thing to say right now, but you didn’t want to cry and worry Spencer further. The poor attempt to lighten the mood showed some success because you earned a light chuckle from your boyfriend. The atmosphere didn’t stay light for long though, the two of you almost instantly falling silent as you stared into his beautiful brown eyes. “I’m sorry.”

The words fall out from both of you simultaneously. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Angel. You were right and I was being unfair.” Spencer intertwines his fingers with yours, immediately rejecting your apology. “You were,” you agree “but I was also unfair. I shouldn’t have said what I did.” He tries to sit up, wincing from the unanticipated sharp sting. This earns him a soft reprimand from you, reminding him of his broken rib and you instead use the remote to shift the gurney into a position comfortable for him to lean against. “You need to be more careful!” You whine.

“I know, I know. I just, I want to hold you.” He whines back, staring at you with his dangerously powerful puppy eyes. Those eyes were actually dangerous, you had to internally fight yourself to not give in. You opted to meet him half-way and lightly wrapped your arms around his head for a quick hug. “Don’t look at me like that. There will be no holding unless the doctor clears it.” You whispered against his hair before pulling away, not wanting to accidentally hurt him more. “Technically I’m a doctor-” He tries to protest, but you beat him to it. “A medical doctor, Spencer.”

You pull the chair from behind so you can sit as close to him as possible and take his free hand into yours, holding it tightly. “I’m sorry I missed your birthday.” You look at him in disbelief as the words leave his mouth. “Spencer, forget the stupid birthday please! Actually, can we just stop with the apologies? I’m just glad that you’re okay- sort of.” Your eyes scan over his injuries again as you say the last sentence. “Stop. Don’t do that. I’m okay, I promise.” It’s more of a request than anything else. He doesn’t like being ‘babied’ or pitied. “Angel look here.” his fingers guide your face to meet his eyes.

“I’m okay. These will heal, but please don’t give me that look. I know you want to talk about it and we will, later. Right now I just want to talk to you about anything else.”

“I know you do, it’s just hard Spencer. There’s so much to say and I was so worried. I spent three days thinking you hated me. Well, technically, I actually spent two days thinking you hated me and the third losing my mind about-”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he cups your face gently to cut off your ramble and keeps his same soft, whispery tone, “I know. I too spent the last 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes regretting the last thing I might have ever said to you was something I never should have said because I was being an ass.”

“Don’t say that!” You immediately interject, unable to even think about the meaning behind his words. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, “Shhhh, just listen.”

“There’s just so much more I have to say. So much more we need to talk about. And right now I just want to talk to you about anything else, even the little things that don’t matter. Especially the things that don’t matter. So please, just tell me about all the pointless things.” His voice cracks slightly at his plea, his gaze connecting so deeply with yours, tears glazing his lashes.

Stupid puppy eyes. There was no fighting against them this time, you gave in. The two of you talked until the medication knocked him out. It was easy like that with Spencer, you never ran out of topics. Nurses went in and out of the room, hours passed by, but you stayed right there next to him. The next few days were spent in the hospital, you only left to get refreshed if somebody from the team was there with Spencer while you were gone. Spencer was asleep most of the time due to the medication. Everybody from the BAU took turns visiting, Garcia always bringing fresh food with her.

Before Spencer was discharged, the two of you agreed that it would be best for you to stay with him while he recovered. You wanted to be there for him in case he needed anything and he’d take any excuse to have you near him. It was a smart decision overall, because the broken rib rendered Spencer unable to do almost anything on his own. Which is why you were currently watching him bathe, perched on the edge of his bathroom counter, making sure your boyfriend didn’t accidentally hurt himself further.

“You don’t have to do this, you know. I’ll be fine.” Spencer insists. “He says, after almost breaking another bone trying to undress by himself earlier.” You snark.

“I think you’re enjoying this a bit too much.” Amusement surfaces in his voice and it causes you to blush.

“Careful, handsome, you’re going to work yourself up and end up disappointed.” You successfully fluster him back. The doctor deemed Spencer unfit for any physical activity, much to his dismay.

“Ughhh,” he groans, dramatically, rolling his head back. “This is so unfai-Ah!” His complaint is cut off by his own shriek while trying to reach the loofah around his back.

“Shit Spencer!” You panic, hopping off the counter and rushing to his side, grabbing the loofah out of his grasp. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, sorry. I just can’t reach my back, I guess.”

“That’s literally what I’m here for, dummy. Let me get it.” You shuffle behind him from outside the tub and gently push him forward so you can access his back.

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have to do this.” There’s a slight hint of embarrassment in his voice.

“Spencer, love, stop. There’s nothing to be embarrassed about. Plus, I like taking care of you.” It was true. Doing small things to make his life convenient made you happy.

“It’s not just because it’s embarrassing. You shouldn’t have to go out of your way for me like this, you have better things to spend your time on.” The insecurity in his words makes your heart ache. Reaching your hand around his jaw, you turn his head back towards you as you lean in to meet his eyes.

“How can I get it through your thick, beautiful, skull that I want to be here? I want to do this. I want to spend my time with you.” You state matter of factly. He searches your face for any hint of insincerity. Unable to find any, he whispers, “Thank you” and leans in to give you a gentle kiss.

“And plus, you did promise we’d make up for the lost 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes when you got discharged.” You jokingly remind him of his words to you in a conversation you shared at the hospital. He chuckled and kissed you once more.

“I will.” A re-affirmation of his promise. “But this doesn’t count.”

“How so?” You question. “We’re here together aren’t we?”

“Yes, but you deserve more than this.” He declared. “I’m going to make it up to you.”

“Spencer, you don’t have to make anything up to me. We have to make up for lost time.”

“Let me make it up to you anyway?” He flashes those damn eyes at you again.

“Just get better first okay, then we’ll talk. Plus you owe me a conversation before anything else.” Normally Spencer was the one who’d have to remind you of things, but today it was the other way around.

“I guess I do.” He sighs in defeat, “Before we do that I have to tell you something.”

“Yeah?”

“Rossi offered to throw you a party for your birthday and I kind of, maybe, said yes? It was less of an offer and more of a statement if I’m honest, but I thought you’d like it because you’re a huge fan of his books and always wanted to see his mansion. There’s tons of space for your family and friends too and-”

You cut off his speech with a kiss. “That’s wonderful Spencer, thank you. Tell Rossi I said thank you as well.”

“You’re not disappointed? I know you prefer smaller celebrations and originally I had something else planned but given my current state it’s a bit hard to go through with those plans.”

“Of course I’m not disappointed. I’d be happy with anything as long as you’re there.” You flash him a grateful, genuine smile. He kisses you briefly. Then again. And again.

“As much as I love kissing you, we need to get you to bed. Come on.” The two of you share kisses, giggles and loving looks, as you help him out of the tub, dry him off and get him dressed. Making your way over to the bed, you first help him settle in before getting into your side. It’s clear that Spencer doesn’t know where to start.

“Let’s start with that night.” You take the lead. He takes a deep breath as he begins to recount the events.

“I felt terrible after you left. I never meant any of it and I just, I am so sorry.”

“I know. I am too.” You reassured your lover, not wanting him to bear guilt over it any longer.

“I was on your way to your apartment to apologise when I bumped into the unsub. The next thing I knew I couldn’t feel my legs and was being thrown into the back of the van.” He couldn’t offer you more than the basic details, due to the classified nature of his job. The unsub wanted revenge because Spencer was the reason they were caught in the first place. “I’m sorry” is how Spencer finished his re-telling.

“Sorry? Why are you sorry, that’s not your fault.” A light, confused chuckle escapes your throat as you speak.

“Because, I put you in danger. Because this job puts me in danger, which always puts you in danger by extension. You deserv-”

“Stop. Spencer, stop.” You cut him off, afraid of what he was insinuating. “Stop telling me what I deserve. I knew what your job was when I entered this relationship. Don’t.” Tears threatening to spill from you, your fingers digging into your own flesh to try and stop them. Spencer noticed, gently coaxing your fingers away from your palm as he massaged your hand lightly.

“Angel look at me.” He almost commands. You begrudgingly meet his eyes, holding your breath as you mentally prepare for the ‘it’s not you, it’s me speech’ you’d heard before from others. “What’s wrong?” He questions, not entirely sure as to why you were crying. For a genius he could be really unaware of his wording sometimes.

“Why do you keep saying that?” You’re unable to hold your tears.

“Because I want you to know that I’m going to do better from now. To give you the ‘better’ you deserve.” He wipes your tears, still holding on to your hand.

“Then why does it sound like you’re trying to break up with me right now?” You sniffle, squeezing his hand slightly.

“I must really suck at communicating, because that’s the exact opposite of what I’m trying to do.” He uses his hand to gently coax your head towards him so he can kiss you. “I want to move in together. With you.”

“You do?”

“Yes. If there’s anything I’ve realised over the past few days, it’s that I really hate being away from you. I hate not being able to see you, hear your voice, feel your touch.” He gives you another kiss. “I am not going anywhere. And I really hope you don’t either. Move in with me?”

You give him a peck. “Yes.” Another peck. “Yes, Spencer, I’ll move in with you.” A deep, longing kiss. You share a few more kisses and then nestle against him. Both of you laughing.

The next few hours pass with both of you just enjoying being in each other's arms. Gently stroking the others hair, small kisses here and there, ‘I love you’s’ bouncing off from one another. The 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes spent worrying you won’t see each other again seem so silly now that you’ve got everyday to look forward to.

“Angel?” Spencer’s voice lulls you out from your semi-conscious state. “Hm?”

“Thank you.” On the surface it was just a simple sentence, but his intention was deeper than that. It was a show of gratitude for you choosing him. For staying with him through the hard times.

“Always.” Your promise that you’d do it again.

“Spencer?” You say after a second.

“Yes my love?” Spencer replies.

“Thank you too.”

“Always.”

Both of you fall asleep cuddling not long after. There were still a few things that needed to be worked out, but one thing was for sure, you were going to wake up next to the love of your life the next morning and then every morning after that. You’d truly found your forever person in each other.

Spoilers: Hurt, Angst, Fluff, Comfort, Established Relationship.

AN - First fic I’ve ever written. It’s been in my drafts for so long, I’ve edited it so many times. I hope you didn’t feel too edged because 80% of this is without Spencer scenes (I did and I wrote it).

Feel free to drop helpful criticism, I’m always looking to improve. Remember to stay real and respectful :)

Thank you for reading!

#spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x female reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds x fem!reader #criminal minds fandom #ssa spencer reid #fem!reader #bau team #spencer reid fic #; fics

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daycourtofficial · 3 months ago

Text

All’s well that ends well to end up with you

Pairing: Eris x Rhysand’s sister!reader | WC: 1.5k | warnings: none

Summary: fears and doubts cause you and Eris to do your first irrational act together: a secret mating bond ceremony

Author’s note: happy Eris Week to all who celebrate and to @erisweekofficial for all their work!! I gotta start with my roots and my first post has to be gingerfucker!! I have to give the people what they know me for!! This can be read as a stand alone tho 🫶🏻

You breathed deeply, the chimes of the clock tower drowning out any other noise. Eris stood before you, an immaculate jacket of deep red adorning his chest. He wore a black dress shirt beneath, embroidered with the phases of the moon around the collar. His jacket was a rich velvet, gold thread woven throughout.

It was the perfect way to symbolize your unity. You were not sure who made such a garment, unsure if black fabric was even allowed in the Autumn Court.

You couldn’t find it in yourself to care when his soft amber eyes look down at you as he held out his arm for you.

The two of you were in the Day Court under the cover of darkness, a secret mating ceremony. It was truly quite romantic, a tale you hoped to share whenever it’s safe for you to do so.

You had come to visit Helion a month prior for negotiations on behalf of Rhysand. You had asked to come in Rhys’s stead because 1) you also had wanted to peruse the libraries and 2) you were hoping to negotiate a pegasus from Helion.

At least, those were the reasons you gave your brother.

The end of Amarantha’s reign had allowed you to finally see your mate for the first time in five decades, having slipped away to a spot in the woods after Rhys’s return to wait in hopes of just a glimpse of him.

You had waited impatiently, certain that the nerves and anxiety were rolling off you in waves for any nearby wildlife to intercept. It felt incredible to see him again, your face tucked beneath his chin as he held you close to him, his scent burning itself into your memory once more.

His first words to you following your separation were a desperate plea for a ceremony, his pleas soft as he clutched you tightly to his chest.

You knew it was too risky to do it in either of your home courts. Spring was an obvious no, Winter and Dawn were quite risky, leaving Summer and Day as your only real options.

You were quite fond of Helion, and you were sure you could convince him to allow the two of you passage into his court for a few hours.

After he listened to your pleas, he agreed to allow the two of you access to one of his temples for a few hours.

“Not all of us can see so well in the moonlight,” he had told you, letting you know the location of the most beautiful temple in his court. “Only one priestess roams the halls on Tuesday nights. She is quite fond of performing such ceremonies.”

His words were no embellishment. The temple before you was massive and stunningly beautiful. The high arched ceilings with suns painted everywhere almost glowed against the blue backdrop behind them.

You wondered how it looked during the day.

Eris looked down as you hooked your arm into his. You had accepted the bond decades ago, but the two of you wanted to go through with the ceremony. To ensure that no matter what happened to two of you moving forward, whatever happened to your courts, your people, your homes, there was some record with this date and your names on it. Some written record for future generations to find eons later, when the lands look nothing like they do now and the people live lives that resemble nothing like your own.

When the common tongue is gone, replaced with some newer language you couldn’t begin to understand. Your names would live forever within the pages of this temple, tucked away in their recorded archives: the prince of the Autumn Court and the princess of the Night Court, bound together by fate and by their own wishes.

The flickering light from the candles made Eris’s freckles dance across his face.

The lord led you down the long aisle, your arm nestled into his elbow. The two of you moved in tandem, your long skirts kissing the ground as you went, the black fabric turning red as it moved down your body until it looked as if you walked in the flames.

The priestess nodded at the two of you as you approached the altar, your dress’s slight train cascading down the steps behind you. You turned to Eris, his hands outstretched in invitation, pleading for yours to rest atop them. His hands were warm against yours, the familiar heat calming your nerves.

The priestess before you wore all white, a long flowing gown cinched at the waist. It looked nothing like what Helion wore - instead of long, flowing fabrics, the priestess wore a long, tight-fitted dress, long bell shaped sleeves adorning her arms. A white hood covered her dark black hair, and dark hands adorned with gold rings peaked out from her sleeves.

The priestess lit the candles around the altar as you two looked into each other’s eyes, every emotion strumming through the bond between you two, a song you swore you could hear humming through the air and your chest.

She approached the two of you, a golden silk ribbon in her hands. You moved your right hand into his right hand, and he gently scraped his index finger against his palm. She began chanting, wrapping the soft silk around your forearms. She connected the two joined hands, and you squeezed Eris’s palm, offering a soft smile that he returned.

He was captivating in the night, a fire that kept you warm long through a treacherous night.

Her chanting paused as she looked at you, her low voice telling you, “if you wish to exchange any personal vows, now is the time.”

You took a deep breath, turning back to Eris.

Your mate looked back at you, and any nerves you had dissipated as you started speaking, the words coming from your lips as you gazed into his amber eyes.

“I’m not sure if we were ever two separate things, but if we were, if we are, the edges of you and I have been blurring since I met you, our definitions becoming hazier. I am officially laying claim that there is no longer any part of me that hasn’t been invaded by you.

“I have prayed for you in bonfires, in the dying hearths of my childhood. I always viewed fire as a sacred thing, always offering it something so it can continue to burn before me. Perhaps I was just learning how to stoke the flames, or maybe I knew that worshiping the flame would lead me to you.”

His hand squeezed your own, the ribbon not feeling tight enough to truly blend the two of you together.

His eyes shone in the candlelight, his beauty intensified in the flame as if it knew he was kin.

“I have gone by many names. Eris Vanserra, heir to the Autumn throne, prick, eldest, …. All of those names pale in comparison to the first time you called me ‘mate’.

“That awful playwright who you adore so much put into one of his plays, “What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell just as sweet.” And yet, he never knew what it felt like to be called ‘yours’, what it feels like when you gaze at me so softly, to see the words ‘mine, mine, mine’ swimming in your irises.

“I do not know where my promises can lie, what I am truly capable of. I do not wish to commit to false promises. Our foundation has always been on feeble ground, and I do not wish to build a mateship on such poor foundations.

“I promise to do my very best for you, every day, every minute, for the rest of my life. I promise that every decision I will make will include you as a factor. As the factor. My life is complicated, as you are aware, but you are not complicated. You never have been. My chest yearns for you, at all times. You have always offered me the peace of familiarity.“

You surged forward, capturing his lips in a kiss before pulling back quickly.

“Er, I don’t care about my name, or my title. None of it compares to being called your mate.”

The priestess looked at you two, probably waiting to see if you would pounce on him right here. Maybe that was how they held these ceremonies in Day. You were sure Helion wouldn’t mind.

“You are bound together, from here for eternity, in perfect union. May the Mother bless you both with endless love and patience for each other.”

The air had a certain crispness to it at her words, the bond humming in your chest with satisfaction, satisfying a yearning that hadn’t let up for centuries.

Nobody could deny either of you the sanctity of your bond anymore.

Permanent taglist: @vanilla-seabass @cyrygher @lees-chaotic-brain @topaz125 @chessebookgirl @fides25 @lady-of-tearshed @ashbatz @fxckmiup @lilah-asteria @justvibbinghere @daughterofthemoons-stuff @mybestfriendmademe @heartless-tate @tsunami-of-tears @idrkwhatthisisimsorry @olive-main @azrielsmate3 @pit-and-the-pen @durgenyx @dee-writes-smut @chairofchaos @thelov3lybookworm @berryzxx @throneofsmut @kennedy-brooke @prythianpages @itsswritten @acotarxreader @milswrites @the-golden-jhope @hannzoaks @secretlyhers @tothestarsandwhateverend @sarawritestories @chxosangxl

Eris taglist: @magicstrengthandcourage @panther-girl-124

Thanks for reading ❣️

#gingerfucker #acotar fanfiction #eris vanserra #eris acotar #eris x you #eris x y/n #eris x reader #eris vanserra x reader #eris vanserra x you #eris vanserra fanfic #eris vanserra x y/n

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shslbunnylover · 25 days ago

Note

Hi honey. How about a Wanda fic where R comes back after a long mission and since Wanda got so used to not having R around she's kinda ignoring her. Angst with a happy ending

★ ★ ★ Time Goes By ★ ★ ★

Character: Wanda Maximoff

Summary: When you finally return home after a month-long mission, you realize your girlfriend has started to get used to life without you

Taglist: @inlovewithgreta @lilfartbox1

Trigger Warnings: Mentions of NSFW, some crying, mentions of abandonment and anxiety,

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Author's Note: Sorry for the delay!! Thank you for the request <3

Word Count: 3.63k

Being an avenger wasn't easy, not in the least. There was the constant threat of death, the looming amounts of paparazzi just *begging* to get an interview with their favorite superhero, and your personal least favorite, being away from your loved ones.

You absolutely adored your girlfriend Wanda, a fellow avenger, and when you found out you wouldn't get to see her for at least a month, you were heartbroken to be ripped away from the woman you cherished dearly just in the name of protecting some city on a whole other continent.

Wanda was equally as heartbroken, but she understood, having been a part of the avengers longer than you meant she had plenty of experience when it came to long missions that meant staying in a whole new environment.

“I know baby, I know, but you'll be okay! I'll try and text you everyday to wish you goodnight, and I'll try and text you every morning to wake you up,” She promised you, holding you in her arms.

“I know- But it's in Europe, it'll be a whole other timezone!” You cried.

“We'll make it work Dekta, we'll make it work,”

You were nothing short of a baby for the rest of the week before you left, never wanting to leave your loving girlfriend's side no matter what she did.

But the night before you left, you were held in her arms from the moment you and her got home from work, her manicured nails scratching at your scalp as the two of you watched your favorite sitcom together.

You knew she liked to hold you tightly while watching your favorite sitcoms due to her trauma, as if she was afraid to let you go in fear of that horrid day happening again.

She held you tightly because she knew that's the way her parents died, cuddled up on the couch. She wasn't losing another person in her life, and if another bomb hit your apartment, she wanted to die with you in her arms and her in yours.

She tried to get rid of the thoughts that made her behave this way for years, but subconsciously the redhead would forever cling to you when you watched these sitcoms, as it brought her comfort she wasn't even aware of receiving.

As Malcolm in the Middle played on the TV, you looked up at her, her green eyes sparkling as she watched the TV.

God she's beautiful.

“Wands…?” You murmured.

“Yes Dekta?” Wanda looked down at you, pressing a kiss to your forehead as her hands pulled you even closer to her.

“You're not gonna forget about me, right? When I come back everything will be back to normal?” You asked, a tear welling up in your eye at the mere thought of losing her because you were gone for too long.

Wanda grabbed the remote, pausing the TV before pulling you fully onto her lap, allowing for you to bury your head in the crook of your neck.

“Oh moya lyubov, I will never forget you,” Wanda frowned, kissing your lips softly as she looked at you, her eyes genuine as she pulled you out from her neck.

“I know, but I…” You trailed off, biting your lip as you shrugged.

“I know,” She nodded. “I won't forget you,”

You looked up at her with eyes that were glazed over with tears, and you attempted to hold them back, but a few finally escaped.

A shaky breath left your lips, and you wiped the droplets out from under your eyelids.

“You better not,” You mumbled.

Wanda looked at you, kissing your lips gently.

“I wouldn't even dream of it,”

You sniffled, holding onto Wanda for the rest of the night until you eventually fell asleep.

She carried you up to your shared bedroom after she had finished another two episodes of the sitcom, tucking you and herself under the covers of your bed.

“Wanda…” You slurred in your drowsy state. “I don't wanna go…”

Wanda sighed, her eyes falling to your sleeping form in sadness.

“I know moya lyubov, I know, I don't want you to leave either,” The redhead ran her fingers through your hair, twirling some of your locks around her pointer finger.

You didn't respond, falling back into your unconsciousness, leaving Wanda to hold you in her arms.

“Ya tebya lyublyu,” She murmured into your hair, shutting her eyes to join you in your sleep.

When she had awoken the next morning, she immediately noticed the lack of warmth in her arms.

She made her way to the kitchen, seeing the plate of pancakes you had made for her before your departure to your station in Europe.

The redheaded witch sat down at the table, quickly cutting up the pancakes so they didn't get cold.

The pancakes you made were delicious, and once she finished, she leaned back, grabbing a napkin to wipe her face.

She slid it across the bottom half of her face, pausing as she felt something a bit sticky being wiped across her cheek.

Her hands pulled the napkin back, and her eyes softened as she saw the clear shimmer of your lipgloss on the napkin.

She frowned, an exhale of something in between loneliness and sadness leaving her.

This was going to be a long month without you.

The days dragged on slower than either of you had wanted or even anticipated, your separation by the fault of physical distance causing you both to crave each other's voice and touch.

The mission itself wasn't much better either, you were mainly just put as a security guard at your post. You didn't even understand why you were here. You hadn't done anything that required any true effort like disabling any sort of terrorist from the gang you were sent out here to help catch.

‘God I can't wait to go home,’ You thought to yourself, leaning against the wall as you held the polaroid you always carried around with you in your hands.

The picture was one that you and Wanda had taken at some amusement park you had passed by on a walk and decided to try out, and on your way home after your time there you took a picture with your girlfriend on the machine provided.

She was kissing your cheek, and you were too busy laughing to notice that the picture had been taken, catching you two in your most genuine moment.

You smiled at the polaroid, putting it back in your wallet before tucking it in your bra so no one could take it without you knowing.

After the weeks of your mission had passed by, you woke up on the day you were to head to the airport with a smile on your face. After what had felt like ages without your loving girlfriend, you were ready to go home and see her more than anything.

You checked your phone, shrugging at the lack of any messages on your home screen. Wanda was 5 hours behind you back in New York, and you were used at this point to not being able to talk or call at all for days on end, but that's why you were so excited to go back home.

You loaded up your suitcases, fixing up the free hotel room provided for you in exchange for your service and work in the country.

Getting on the airplane, you sent a message to your girlfriend before turning your phone on airplane mode.

‘I’m heading home Wands, come and get me soon ❤️’

When Wanda saw that as she woke up, she smiled softly, excited to see her love for the first time in weeks.

She slowly pulled herself out of bed, sliding on a black blazer and khaki pants with a white button up shirt underneath.

She grabbed her keys, walking out of the apartment to her car.

You had landed about 30 minutes prior to Wanda getting out of bed and leaving to pick you up, but thanks to TSA regulations, you were delayed from walking to the pickup area of the airport for around another 45 minutes, giving the green-eyed woman plenty of time to arrive.

Once your luggage had been checked by the private agents assigned to avengers flying to their destination, who somehow looked more serious than the actual avengers themselves (Thanks Tony, you make the avengers look very professional), you finally walked to the front of the airport.

Your eyes scanned over the sea of people that were in the building, but they finally paused when they found the familiar sight of your girlfriend's fiery red hair.

“Wanda!” You beamed, almost running over to the older woman with your luggage in your hands.

When she heard your voice, Wanda turned in the direction she saw you coming in.

“Y/N!” She ran up and hugged you. “Oh moya lyubov, I'm so happy you got home safe!”

“I'm so happy to see you my dear,” You hugged her back tightly, your hands finding their way to her cheeks before you kissed her softly.

Wanda kissed you back, her eyes filling with tears.

“I'm so happy to see you too, any longer without you and I wouldn't have been able to handle it,” She separated her mouth from yours, darting her tongue over her lips as if attempting to savor the taste of you, as if she'd never taste you again.

The way she held you in her arms made you feel like you were on top of the world and nothing could go wrong.

But that would all change by morning.

When you woke up after a long night where Wanda couldn't keep her hands off of you and you couldn't keep yourself off of her, you noticed that there was no warmth on your back and around your waist.

“Wands…?” You slurred awake, sitting up and noticing that she had already woken up and gotten out of bed.

You checked the bed, assuming you must have slept in and Wanda had already given you her morning cuddles, but you saw that it was 7:30, the time her alarm usually went off.

Wanda would usually spend 10 minutes cuddling you and stroking your hair in the mornings, waking herself up and usually leaving you with a kiss on your cheek which would then wake you up.

You frowned, but attempted to shake the feeling of abandonment out of your head.

“Maybe she's making breakfast?” You asked yourself, standing up and throwing a robe over your body.

You walked over to the kitchen, not seeing your girlfriend or smelling anything that she might have made.

“Wanda?” You looked around.

No response.

You began to panic, walking to the living room where you saw your girlfriend reading a book while listening to Malcolm in the Middle in the background.

You frowned, calling out for her.

“Wanda?” You repeated.

Finally, she turned around, tilting her head.

“Yes Dekta?” She asked.

You couldn't spit what you wanted to say out, and you just fiddled with your fingers.

“Good morning…” You stuttered out.

Wanda just nodded at you before turning her head back to her book and listening to the sitcom you two were supposed to watch *together*.

You felt a surge of anger and sadness being sent up your spine. Why had Wanda been so loving the night before, but now treated you as if you weren't even there? Had she actually forgotten about you?

You walked back to the kitchen, pulling out a bowl and pouring some cereal into it (and then added milk if that's what you like).

“Maybe she's just tired Y/N,” You mumbled to yourself. “Last night was a lot…but…she never acts like this, even after nights like that,”

You dug your spoon into your fruity pebbles, sighing as you just spun the cereal around the white bowl with the metal utensil.

You tried to get some of the not-so-kind thoughts out of your head, and you frowned even deeper as you lifted your spoon to your mouth, swallowing the cereal before putting the spoon back down into the bowl.

You sniffled, putting your head in your hands.

You weren't sure *why* this was affecting you so much, but it was, and that's what mattered right now.

Standing up, you brought the bowl of cereal to the living room, sitting next to Wanda and leaning your head on her shoulder jokingly.

“Wandss…” You kept eating your cereal, hoping to get her attention somehow.

“Hmm?” She didn't even look up from her book.

“Did I do something?” You asked, sitting up now, continuing to eat your cereal.

“Hm? Oh no Dekta, you didn't,” The green-eyed woman slid her finger tip across her tongue before she flipped the page, tilting her head to the left so she could read better.

You frowned, beginning to get ticked off.

“Are you sure?”

Wanda still refused to look up from the words on the page, actually not hearing you, or at least choosing not to.

You scoffed, standing up once you and finished the cereal before putting it in the sink.

You returned to your shared bedroom, and you pulled out your computer, deciding to play a video game to calm your…well you weren't sure what you were feeling. There was a lot of anger, confusion, and definitely a lot of sadness in there as well. The inability to put an exact word on what you were feeling along with the inability to distinguish what was going on definitely had you anxious as well.

After about an hour or two passed, you closed out of the video game, putting your computer on your desk before deciding to clean up a bit.

With everything that was going on with Wanda and her attitude towards you, combined with the remaining anxiety still bubbling over from the mission, you were doing everything you could to keep your mind distracted. You felt that even though the mission was over, you still were nervous about it and whether you did good or not. It seemed like that if Wanda kept up the isolating behavior, you would tip over the edge of a breakdown. You didn't want to tell her about the leftover anxiety last night, because you didn't really need to. You were distracted and with the person that stood as your comfort.

But now with that stability gone, you knew that it was only a matter of time before you lost your happy front.

The room was clean and laundry was fully down in a matter of 4 hours, and you only noticed just how much time had passed when you started to smell her making lunch.

Your eyes lit up, and you pushed the laundry basket underneath the machine before running down the stairs, freezing when you saw your girlfriend eating all by herself.

“Wands, I didn't know you were making lunch…!” You said awkwardly, walking over to the table.

Wanda licked her lips awkwardly, and she bit her lip before putting her fork down.

“Oh um…I'm sorry Dekta, I only made one plate,” She said awkwardly.

“Oh…” You trailed off.

“You can still sit with me if you want, I'm not going to stop you,” The green-eyed witch lifted her fork to her mouth.

You sighed a bit under your breath.

“Alright,” You sat across from her, attempting to make conversation, but only being left with a nod or just complete silence.

The rest of the week wasn't much better, as Wanda had continued this same behavior.

She would make breakfast, lunch and even dinner all for herself. She wouldn't cuddle you in the morning, and she wouldn't even include you in her activities like she always used to before you left.

It was another one of those times where she had left you home by yourself with your dog, Sparky, who sat comfortably in your lap as you stroked his hair.

“You think Wanda still loves me, Sparky?” You asked the fluffy dog who laid there curled up on your thighs as you played another video game, this one being the game you had been trying to teach Wanda how to play so you could play together.

The dog simply licked your leg, his wet slobbery tongue grazing across your skin causing a small smile to break through onto your lips.

“Arf!”

You laughed, scratching the Jack Russell terrier behind his ears.

“You're such a good boy, aren't you?” You chuckled, laughing more as Sparky twirled around in your lap, chasing after his tail.

You put down the controller after you had paused the game, and you hoisted Sparky up to hold him up in your arms.

“I love her so much, and she seemed so happy to see me when I got home, why has everything changed? She promised that nothing would…” You vented to the creature in your arms, your fingers caressing Sparky’s fur from the top of his head down to his tail.

You waited for a few moments, as if giving Sparky the floor to talk, even though he obviously couldn't.

“Yeah, I know I was gone for a whole month, but she promised me everything would still be the same when I came home. I know it was hard for her, but it was for me too,” You turned around, leaning against the armrest of the couch.

Once again you let the dog give his imaginary input.

“I've just been feeling so ignored, like she got used to life without me. She even started watching our show by herself, and she forgets that I'm even there sometimes!” You sniffled, beginning to tear up from all of the emotions washing over you.

The anxiety of the mission, the coldness and complete lack of your existence being acknowledged from your lover, and the adjustments you were still trying to get used to had all begun to finally take their toll on you.

But just as you began to cry your heart out for the first time in months, you heard the front door in front of the living room creek.

You shot your head in the direction of the sounds, and you were shocked to see your girlfriend back so soon.

“W-Wands-? How long have you been there?” You stuttered, sitting up and placing Sparky on the floor so he could run off and resign from his position as your therapist.

“About 5 minutes…” Your girlfriend admitted.

You wiped your eyes, standing up.

“So…so you heard all of that…didn't you?” Your voice wavered.

Wanda nodded, her beautiful green eyes flooding with tears.

“I'm so sorry Dekta, I didn't mean to make you feel so left out…” Her manicured hands, still having chips of the red nail polish you put on them before you left for that God awful mission, lifted up to cup your face.

You let out a small cry at the touch. It felt so alien yet so…so comforting and familiar.

“Oh, oh Dekta, come here,” Wanda pulled you into a tight hug, massaging your scalp with her fingers. “I'm so sorry my love. The month had been so long without you, and I just…I got used to you not being around. But it wasn't a good feeling, it felt so lonely,” She explained with tears pouring out of her green orbs.

“I know, I just- I felt like you forgot about me just like I was worried about,” You cried.

“Oh no baby…I couldn't ever forget you, I just got so used to having you around, and I still felt so miserable from going so long without you in my arms,” Wanda cooed, sitting you down on her lap as she sat on a chair.

You wrapped your arms around her waist like the needy thing you were, and she held you until you both stopped crying (although you cried for much longer than she did).

“I…” Wanda began, biting her lip, looking down at the floor.

You tilted her head up, sniffling.

“Go on,”

She took a deep breath, exhaling softly as you wiped her cheeks free of her tears.

“I've lost so many people in my life…and I've had to become accustomed quickly to them not being there anymore. I was terrified of losing you, and I had already accepted the fact that I would. So when you came home…I tried to knock myself out of the mindset that you weren't here and with me anymore. But no matter what I did, it didn't work until I saw you crying here with Sparky,” The love of your life explained, her hands gripping onto you with a shaky grasp the more she talked. “It’s not an excuse but I-”

You cut her off with a deep kiss, sliding your tongue around here as your hands grasped onto hers as they remained on your hips.

The kiss lasted for about a minute, and Wanda looked at you with wide eyes as the two of you finally pulled apart for air.

“Y/N…” She panted, her digits loosening her grip on your soft skin.

“I forgive you Wanda…” You blurted.

The witch's eyes lit up in a mix of relief and joy.

“You do?”

You nodded.

“I do,”

Her perfect smile returned to her ever perfect face, and it only made you smile back.

“I love you, Y/N,” Wanda looked at you with pure adoration. “More than life itself,”

You chuckled at how soft and sappy she was.

“I love you too, Wanda,”

She pulled you back into her embrace, and the longer she held you, the time that went by without you dissipated from her memory.

If you enjoyed reading this, don't forget to like, reblog and comment! Thank you and you are loved <3

-Akira

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maxmoff x y/n #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #marvel x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #lesbian #bisexual #pansexual #wlw #nblw #fluff #angst with a happy ending #hurt/comfort #akira writes ❤️

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eelhound · 1 year ago

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"I think Homer outwits most writers who have written on the War [fantasy archetype], by not taking sides.

The Trojan war is not and you cannot make it be the War of Good vs. Evil. It’s just a war, a wasteful, useless, needless, stupid, protracted, cruel mess full of individual acts of courage, cowardice, nobility, betrayal, limb-hacking-off, and disembowelment. Homer was a Greek and might have been partial to the Greek side, but he had a sense of justice or balance that seems characteristically Greek — maybe his people learned a good deal of it from him? His impartiality is far from dispassionate; the story is a torrent of passionate actions, generous, despicable, magnificent, trivial. But it is unprejudiced. It isn’t Satan vs. Angels. It isn’t Holy Warriors vs. Infidels. It isn’t hobbits vs. orcs. It’s just people vs. people.

Of course you can take sides, and almost everybody does. I try not to, but it’s no use; I just like the Trojans better than the Greeks. But Homer truly doesn’t take sides, and so he permits the story to be tragic. By tragedy, mind and soul are grieved, enlarged, and exalted.

Whether war itself can rise to tragedy, can enlarge and exalt the soul, I leave to those who have been more immediately part of a war than I have. I think some believe that it can, and might say that the opportunity for heroism and tragedy justifies war. I don’t know; all I know is what a poem about a war can do. In any case, war is something human beings do and show no signs of stopping doing, and so it may be less important to condemn it or to justify it than to be able to perceive it as tragic.

But once you take sides, you have lost that ability.

Is it our dominant religion that makes us want war to be between the good guys and the bad guys?

In the War of Good vs. Evil there can be divine or supernal justice but not human tragedy. It is by definition, technically, comic (as in The Divine Comedy): the good guys win. It has a happy ending. If the bad guys beat the good guys, unhappy ending, that’s mere reversal, flip side of the same coin. The author is not impartial. Dystopia is not tragedy.

Milton, a Christian, had to take sides, and couldn’t avoid comedy. He could approach tragedy only by making Evil, in the person of Lucifer, grand, heroic, and even sympathetic — which is faking it. He faked it very well.

Maybe it’s not only Christian habits of thought but the difficulty we all have in growing up that makes us insist justice must favor the good.

After all, 'Let the best man win' doesn’t mean the good man will win. It means, 'This will be a fair fight, no prejudice, no interference — so the best fighter will win it.' If the treacherous bully fairly defeats the nice guy, the treacherous bully is declared champion. This is justice. But it’s the kind of justice that children can’t bear. They rage against it. It’s not fair!

But if children never learn to bear it, they can’t go on to learn that a victory or a defeat in battle, or in any competition other than a purely moral one (whatever that might be), has nothing to do with who is morally better.

Might does not make right — right?

Therefore right does not make might. Right?

But we want it to. 'My strength is as the strength of ten because my heart is pure.'

If we insist that in the real world the ultimate victor must be the good guy, we’ve sacrificed right to might. (That’s what History does after most wars, when it applauds the victors for their superior virtue as well as their superior firepower.) If we falsify the terms of the competition, handicapping it, so that the good guys may lose the battle but always win the war, we’ve left the real world, we’re in fantasy land — wishful thinking country.

Homer didn’t do wishful thinking.

Homer’s Achilles is a disobedient officer, a sulky, self-pitying teenager who gets his nose out of joint and won’t fight for his own side. A sign that Achilles might grow up someday, if given time, is his love for his friend Patroclus. But his big snit is over a girl he was given to rape but has to give back to his superior officer, which to me rather dims the love story. To me Achilles is not a good guy. But he is a good warrior, a great fighter — even better than the Trojan prime warrior, Hector. Hector is a good guy on any terms — kind husband, kind father, responsible on all counts — a mensch. But right does not make might. Achilles kills him.

The famous Helen plays a quite small part in The Iliad. Because I know that she’ll come through the whole war with not a hair in her blond blow-dry out of place, I see her as opportunistic, immoral, emotionally about as deep as a cookie sheet. But if I believed that the good guys win, that the reward goes to the virtuous, I’d have to see her as an innocent beauty wronged by Fate and saved by the Greeks.

And people do see her that way. Homer lets us each make our own Helen; and so she is immortal.

I don’t know if such nobility of mind (in the sense of the impartial 'noble' gases) is possible to a modern writer of fantasy. Since we have worked so hard to separate History from Fiction, our fantasies are dire warnings, or mere nightmares, or else they are wish fulfillments."

- Ursula K. Le Guin, from No Time to Spare, 2013.

#ursula k. le guin #homer #quote #quotations #the iliad #trojan war #storytelling #fantasy #fiction writing #war #conflict #tragedy #john milton #paradise lost #greek mythology

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cactus-cuddler · 4 months ago

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𝑫𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒍𝒚 ✭ 𝑨𝒕𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒄𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Pairing: dom!Bucky Barnes x Sub! virgin female reader

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Plot: There is no specific plot. Bucky and the reader like tease and are both dangerously attracted to each other

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Warnings: explicit sex, use of nicknames as "good girl", "slut" and "whore". Daddy kink and dirty talk. I don't think there are any other warnings.

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ Word count: 4.5k (sorry)

-------- ≪ °✾° ≫ Author's note: sorry for any mistakes that may be there, English is not my first language! And sorry if the scenes may be badly written, it's been a long time since I wrote a smut between a woman and a man.

I write this ff because today I turn 18 (Happy Birthday to me!!) and I want so sign it. From today I can interact with all the "minor DNI" posts!!

I don't care if you are minors, read it if you want <3 ------------------------------------------------------------------------

James Buchanan Barnes. The very mention of this name can make your heart race, recalling his powerful presence, his toned physique, and the intense gaze he fixes on you whenever your paths cross. Your thoughts often wander to him, an obsession that fills your mind in the quietest hours of the night.

Yet, despite the thoughts that consume you, you're still a virgin. You’ve never found someone you were willing to give your heart to, let alone something more intimate. You've had relationships, but each time, you’ve held back, refusing to let things go beyond harmless flirtation. The thought of being vulnerable like that has always kept you at a distance. But with him, it’s different. There’s something about Bucky that makes you reconsider everything.

Your relationship with Bucky is hard to define. Sometimes you get along well, but other times, you find yourself wishing he would just disappear. And then there are moments when you wish he’d stop arguing with you altogether, using his frustration in ways that words can’t express. Is that too much to ask?

You’re curled up on your couch with a cup of hot chocolate in hand and a blanket to ward off the winter chill. As you flip through the channels, trying to find something to watch, your phone buzzes with incoming messages. Seeing his name on the screen sends a pang through your chest.

Teasing him has always been your favorite game. You start a random movie, not really caring about the plot, as you wait for him to arrive. The distant sound of a motorcycle engine signals that you're in trouble now.

When the doorbell rings, you open it, quickly masking your excitement. He’s standing there in his pajamas, and you can’t help but giggle. His pants have a childish space motif, and the matching sweatshirt does nothing to diminish his appeal. You’re wrapped in a blanket, so you're not much better off in his eyes.

"Popcorn?" he asks, and you invite him in. As he sees the movie already playing, he reminds you of his earlier request. You shrug and sit on the couch, munching on the popcorn he brought.

“You’re a bad girl,” he says, taking the remote to choose something else to watch.

“Just the way you like them,” you reply with a smirk.

You and Bucky work together in the same company, nothing out of the ordinary. You handle the computers and accounting, while Bucky works with metal. His vibranium arm would be perfect for his job, but he rarely uses it. "Oops, I’m right-handed, I do it without thinking," he says when someone asks why he doesn’t use his more powerful arm. You’ve seen how he looks at women, and it stirs something within you—a mix of jealousy and curiosity.

You first started talking after you accidentally spilled coffee on his white shirt a few months ago. To make amends, you offered to clean it, using a trick you’d read in a 1950s magazine titled "How to Be the Perfect Housewife." Not that you’re aiming for that role; you detest the idea of being confined by outdated gender roles. Patriarchy is disgusting! You would never want to marry a man in your life who confines you to a house with four children, a dog, three cats and a cactus to take care of alone.

Your conversations started off innocent enough, but things took a turn when you began texting late into the night. You both started teasing each other, pushing boundaries just to see how far the other would go. It became a game, one where neither of you wanted to lose face, even as feelings began to creep in.

So, how did he end up at your place tonight? You’re not sure, and it worries you. He’s never been to your house before. Sure, he’s given you rides home after work, a habit that started after the coffee incident. It became a routine, all because you playfully challenged his chivalry. “You? A gentleman? Don’t make me laugh,” you had texted him one morning. That very day, he was waiting outside your building, opening the car door for you. "It doesn’t mean anything," you had said to him in thanks. But tonight feels different.

The movie he picks is just awful. It’s filled with scenes of sex without sense.

“Is this too much for you? Should I change it?” he asks each time, and you just shake your head. In your life you see, read and write stuff more scandalous.

“How boring, if done like this even sex becomes boring," Bucky complains about another sex scene with the missionary position.

“You talk big, but I bet you couldn’t do any better,” you say, challenging him, not realizing what you’ve just started.

“With just one touch, I could make you scream my name,” he says, his voice low and intense. You can feel the heat rise to your cheeks, but you’re not backing down.

“I’d like to see you try,” you whisper, the challenge clear in your voice.

He looks at you, his gaze lingering, but then he sighs and turns back to the movie. “I’m a gentleman,” he says softly. “I wouldn’t take advantage of you like that.”

You feel a wave of frustration, mixed with a sense of longing that you can’t quite shake. You don’t want him to be a gentleman; you want him to see you as more. You’re a ruthless woman, you won’t give up easily. If you are not satisfied with him, well you will do it yourself. In front of his eyes.

You take off your blanket and lift your shirt up to your hips and pull your panties off throwing them on the floor. You lie down on your back and put your feet on his knees. You put two fingers in your mouth and suck them in front of him. ‘He provoked me’. You repeat yourself so you don’t feel guilty about what you’re about to do.

You do small circular movements on your clit and slowly start to sigh for the pleasure you are causing yourself.

“Bucky..." you say between moaning as you start to penetrate your little cunt with two fingers. Bucky is doing everything he can to hold himself back. His erection thills in his boxer asking to be released and enjoy for you and your warmth however he does not want to give up. It will not look but has solid moral principles and not taking your virginity is one of those.

“Bucky… please fuck me with your cock,” you say clenching your couch with fingers to hold back your spasms. This provocation has hit the mark, his erection is now painful and not releasing it could drive him crazy. Reach out to your face, sweat drops are playing on your forehead. He orders you to sit down and you perform. You are sitting one next to the other and you have your leg over his to allow him free access to your pussy.

"I won’t take your virginity," he announces by passing his thumb along your big lips. An unsatisfied grunt comes out of your lips, you want more. Much more than that.

“Why not?" you complain "I want you Bucky, I want to shout your name" add grumbling.

"It would be a nice show, believe me sweetheart but I can’t deprive you of your first time with someone you love," he says. In a flash all the previous excitement fades away as if in a spell. You close your legs and ask him to leave. "You can’t decide what’s right or wrong for me" you told him by pulling out your voice. He’s made his choice, and for tonight, that will have to be enough.

As he leaves, you find yourself wondering what it would take to bridge the gap between you. Because despite everything, one thing is clear: you want more from him, and you’re not sure how much longer you can wait.

The next morning, you wake up hoping that the night with Bucky was just a bad dream—a nightmare you could shake off with a shiver. But as you lie there, staring at the ceiling, you realize that it was all too real. The memory comes rushing back: you, vulnerable and exposed, touching yourself in front of him, moaning his name, only to be met with rejection. Your cheeks flush with a mix of shame and frustration. How could I have let myself go like that?

But there’s another thought that creeps in, unbidden. Despite everything, a part of you finds it almost sweet that Bucky doesn’t want to take your virginity unless it’s something more than just lust. He wants you to save it for someone you truly love. But the truth is, you do want it. You want him. The image of his lips on yours, his hands exploring every inch of your body, flashes through your mind, and you feel a pang of desire so intense it nearly takes your breath away. You’ve fantasized about him for so long—wondered if he could fulfill the dark, desperate needs you’ve kept buried. You’re sure you wouldn’t regret giving him your first time, so why should he?

‘Maybe he doesn’t want me,’ you think suddenly, the possibility of hitting you like a bucket of cold water. ‘Maybe I’m just a game to him, someone he can tease and torment without ever really wanting.’ The thought is unbearable, twisting in your gut like a knife.

You force yourself out of bed, deciding that you won’t let these thoughts ruin your day. Before work, you brew a hot cup of coffee, hoping the caffeine will give you the energy you need to push through. You can’t face Bucky today—not after last night. Instead, you opt for your favorite mode of transport, the one so many dismiss as the “poor man’s commute.” But you’ve always found the train comforting, a place where you can disappear into your thoughts without the pressure of small talk or the need to keep up appearances.

The ride is uneventful, the rhythmic clatter of the train soothing your nerves somewhat. When you arrive at your stop, your office is just a short walk away. You’re early—too early, really—so you take your time, letting your mind wander as you stroll. The morning air is crisp, and the world feels strangely peaceful. ‘Why can’t my mind be this calm?’ you wonder, but of course, it’s not that simple. Last night’s events linger, casting a shadow over everything.

Just as you’re about to step inside, your phone rings, the sound jolting you out of your thoughts. His name flashes on the screen, and your heart skips a beat. What does he want now?

"Y/N, come down now or we'll be late!" Bucky's voice snaps through the line, sharp with irritation. You can almost see the frown on his face, the way his brows would knit together. But with a calmness that surprises even you, you tell him you're already at the office, having taken the train.

"I hope you're joking," he growls, his voice low and husky, sending a familiar shiver down your spine. Even when he's angry, it's a voice that could melt you.

"Sorry, I should have warned you," you reply, hanging up before he can say more. The truth is, you didn't want to face him this morning, not after last night. The thought of seeing his cold blue eyes, remembering how they watched you with a mix of desire and restraint, makes your chest tighten.

You greet your colleagues warmly, slipping on your glasses as you sit at your desk, but your mind is elsewhere. The memory of Bucky's gaze, the way his hand almost trembled before he pulled away from you, keeps playing on a loop.

Hours pass in a blur of work until lunchtime, when Bucky suddenly appears at your usual spot in the break room. The moment you see him, your heart skips a beat. His presence fills the space, commanding and intense. You watch as he approaches, your colleagues' chatter fading into the background.

"I need to talk to you, Y/N," he says, his voice a mix of urgency and something deeper-something almost vulnerable. His eyes, however, are still guarded, a wall you've never been able to fully break through.

Your colleagues exchange knowing glances, smirking, and you can feel the heat rising to your cheeks. Without a word, you follow Bucky out of the room, conscious of the curious eyes behind you.

He leads you to the women's bathroom, and as soon as the door closes, he turns to you, his expression unreadable. "I'm sorry," he begins, but the words seem empty, as if even he doesn't believe them.

"For what?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper. Your heart is pounding now, and you don't know if it's from anger, confusion, or the mere proximity to him.

"For last night. I have no right to tell you who should take your virginity," he says, but you quickly cover his mouth with your hand, the heat of embarrassment rushing to your face.

"Don't say that out loud!" you hiss, glancing around as if someone might be listening. The idea that anyone might hear about your inexperience makes you cringe.

His lips curl into a smirk beneath your hand, and he gently removes it, his fingers brushing your skin in a way that sends a jolt of electricity through you. "Do you still want it?" he whispers, leaning in close enough that you can feel his breath on your neck. His voice is dark, teasing, but there's something else there too-a hint of uncertainty, as if he's afraid of your answer.

Your breath catches as he presses his knee between your legs, his hands firm on your hips. God, why does he have to be so confusing? You need him, but his mixed signals are driving you insane.

"You have to understand, I don't want you to regret anything you do with me," he murmurs against your lips, finally adjusting his knee just where you need it. Your body responds instantly, a wave of heat pooling between your legs.

His words are laced with concern, but also with a promise of something darker. "Even though it may not seem like it, I really care about you," he continues, his thumb tracing circles on your cheek, a gesture so tender it makes your chest ache. You feel small under his gaze, like a puzzle he's trying to figure out. And yet, in this position, you're certain you could unravel completely in his hands.

"The day I fuck you, I want to hear words like 'I love you, Daddy' coming out of your mouth. I don't want it to be a simple one-night stand, okay?" he finishes, pulling back just as quickly as he came, leaving you breathless and reeling.

As the door closes behind him, you're left with the echo of his words, your thoughts spiraling. 'How can he have this much control over me?' you wonder, struggling to steady your breath. Your heart is racing, your body still humming with the desire he left behind. Until yesterday, you were convinced your relationship with Bucky was built on mutual dislike and a twisted game of dominance. But now, you're not so sure. There's something deeper-a need, an almost primal urge to possess and be possessed.

The day you finally give in to him won't be gentle. You can feel it in the way your bodies clash, in the intensity of his gaze. It will be raw, fierce, and everything you've secretly craved. And when it happens, you'll be ready to let him see every part of you-the parts you've never shown anyone else, not even yourself.

After work Bucky takes you home, you decide to let go of what happened because now you know that he wants you as much as you do. He wants to be there for you and give you everything you can give.

"I've been thinking about what you said all day," you admit, adjusting Bucky's seatbelt. It feels tighter than it should and you think it's the reason you're short of breath when in reality it's the man in the driver's seat who's gripping the wheel in a way that's too erotic for your tastes.

"What conclusion have you come to?" he asks without taking his eyes off the road. The way his jaw clenched when he spoke and the hint of a neat beard on his cheeks spark some very perverse thoughts in you.

"I want you Bucky, so much. It wouldn't be a one night stand, I know I'd be addicted to your body pressing against mine," you admit bravely and a smile lights up his face.

“Show me how much you want me,” he taunts you.

You decide to please him without using your sharp tongue and you reach out to the crotch of his pants to feel what you have dreamed of so much. Under your fingers you feel him slowly swelling and as you feel it you bite your lip to hold back the excitement that is growing inside you.

You unzip his pants while he is still driving, you notice that he has slowed down and on his face you notice the desire he has for you. As soon as you free his cock you notice that your fantasies did not do him justice. It is definitely bigger and thicker than the one you imagined you rode every night. You wet your hand with saliva - as you have seen done in many pornos - and you start to touch it enjoying the heat on your hand.

You make small movements with the palm of your hand and the idea that someone could see you does nothing but excite you more. You are not an expert, you do not know what he might like more but despite this the movements of your hand are decisive.

"I knew you were a good girl," Bucky says from behind the wheel. Seeing how he's reacting to your touch excites you even more. His breathing is no longer regular, you see his expression satisfied by your touch and when you notice that there are only a few meters left to your house you almost feel sorry.

You start to pump faster, you have decided to challenge yourself and you want to make him come before you get to your house. As your hand increases the speed his sighs become faster and faster and when you see from his look that he is close to that point you take off your belt and lower yourself towards his big cock and take his tip between your lips until your mouth is filled.

"Such a good girl," he says to you while parking the car and you look into his eyes smiling, swallowing all his seed and licking your lips to show him that you liked it.

He fixes his cock in his jeans and then follows you into your home. He intends to return the favor you have done him and will really make you scream as he always threatened while he was teasing you. Once the door is closed behind you, you begin to kiss with desire. Your tongues touch and search for each other and feeling your taste mixed with his cum gives him another throbbing erection despite the orgasm of a few minutes ago.

“I knew there was a whore inside you looking for my cock," he tells you in a hoarse voice. Your body is on fire, you need him to give you more. He makes you lie down on the same couch where he rejected you less than twenty-four hours ago and begins to undress you hastily without paying attention to your clothes. He scatters everything around the room and when you are finally naked in front of his gaze he admires you in amazement.

You are perfect. Your body is perfect in his eyes. Every little imperfection that you see in it are things that he loves. You are a Greek goddess in his eyes and every part of you belongs to him and you both know it. From the day you stained his white shirt with coffee you already knew it would end like this.

He starts taking your breasts with his big hands, only his mind knows how many times he has wanted to touch them, bite them and suck them and now everything is possible. With his metallic hand he holds one of your nipples tightly, the cold touch of his hand makes you arch your back with pleasure and in the meantime he sucks and bites the other nipple making you want even more. Your gasps are music to his ears, your body is like an instrument in his hands and with every touch he is able to let out those little sounds he loves.

“Bucky, please I want more,” you beg with the help of your needy gaze.

"What a needy whore, isn't you?" he sneers and you nod to agree with him. You want to be his whore for tonight and for all the nights to come. He leaves a trail of kisses all over your body and then lingers on your pussy. The place where you need him to focus.

With his thumb he begins to touch your clit and in the meantime his gaze is fixed on your face dominated by pleasure from that insignificant touch. While with his thumb he continues his work with his middle finger he begins to penetrate your cunt going deep to feel how wet you are just for him.

"What a wet pussy we have," he compliments and then licks your juices from his fingers and satisfied he licks his lips.

He makes you sit with your back to the backrest and positions himself between your legs, placing your legs on his shoulders. As he enters you with two fingers, he begins to lick your clit while your hands are firmly on his head. You push him closer to you while desperate cries escape from your lips. Before that, you had never felt anything more pleasurable. His tongue moves expertly on your tight pussy sucking the right spots and alternating with licking.

“Bucky… I’m about to come,” you tell him between sighs of pleasure.

"Good girls only come when they are told, you are a good girl aren't you?" he tells you after taking his tongue off the place he was devouring with pleasure. He puts his fingers in your mouth and you impulsively suck his fingers taking all your flavor away from him. Your pussy is sweet and the taste and smell make Bucky ecstatic. He starts to undress too, letting his erection come out, now it seems even bigger than before and you don't know if you'll be able to take it all. But you know you'll make it, you want to show Bucky that you're a good girl. Good girls can take all the cock.

Before filling your pussy Bucky positions himself between your breasts and you squeeze them around his hard and veiny member. He starts moving with restrained rhythms while you stick out your tongue to lick the tip when you have the chance.

"You have no idea how much I've dreamed of being between these tits," he tells you between thrusts. Your hot tits around his throbbing cock are an incredible sight. Then Bucky takes a condom from his jeans pocket and orders you to put it on him.

You tear it off with your fingers and place it on the tip of Bucky's cock and then with your lips you cover that member with the condom.

“You're my good girl," he says, caressing your cheek. Then with a brusque gesture he turns you around and you find yourself doggy style on the couch with your legs wide open. He spits on his fingers and lubricates your pussy and then he enters you. Slowly and trying to get you used to it, it's still your first time.

His thrusts are slow but firm. It's not enough for you, you want more.

"Bucky..." you say between sighs.

"I know, baby... let your pussy get at ease to my big cock," he replies, putting his hand around your neck and then touching your breasts with the nipples still hard and stained by him. As soon as he notices that you no longer feel any pain, he increases his speed. He fills you up completely, making you scream with pleasure, he doesn't give you time to make you understand that he's sending your mind into a spin.

"Bucky... I'm going to..." you can't finish your sentence because he slaps you on the right butt. The slap sends you into paradise.

"You can only come when daddy tells you to," he replies, slapping you again, this time on your left ass cheek making you scream in pleasure.

After many deep and fast thrusts you feel the orgasm inside you, holding it back is fucking hard but you don't want to disobey Bucky, or rather, your daddy. He has taken away all your sharp responses with his cock turning you into a perfect whore for him. Like you always dreamed.

"Come for daddy, doll," he orders you, he's almost ready to come too but he wants to do it to you. On top of your body. You don't have to be told twice and you come on his big cock and as soon as he comes out of you he takes off the condom and orders you to get on your knees in front of him.

He starts touching himself in front of you and explodes in an orgasm on your beautiful face throwing away every single ounce of purity you had left. You lick your lips hoping to be able to take some of his cum and be able to taste it again like in the car. He grabs your neck and kisses you with fury. Your mouths both taste like the sex you shared and you can't be happier.

“You did really well,” he tells you and you bite your lip at the compliment. “I'm proud of you," he adds, giving you another long, longing kiss.

You go to take a shower to wash your sweaty bodies but "by mistake" Bucky's cock enters your pussy again and fucks you in your shower again giving you the second orgasm of the day and again by mistake his cock ends up in your mouth and Bucky teaches you how to give a blowjob that satisfies him. As soon as you finish the shower you slip into your bed, he wants to be with you after what you have shared and once in bed you fall asleep hugging each other.

The next morning, thankfully a Sunday, you devour everything you have to eat. You were so into sex that you didn't have dinner last night and your arguments resume but end with you rolling around in bed.

This new perspective excites you more than it should, every argument now corresponds to a perfect fuck and now to shut you up Bucky will put his cock in your mouth. "What a beautiful whore you are when you suck it," and these dirty words help you get an orgasm. Bucky says good girls like to be called whores and you are one.

"You're all mine," he tells you while you're sitting at the kitchen table where you've just finished eating, he said he wanted dessert so you you decide to propose yourself as a meal. You took off your panties and without being asked he was between your legs sucking and licking his sweet dessert.

"I love you daddy," you say closer to your orgasm, those are Bucky's favorite words. They make him understand that everything about you is his, your heart, your perfect cunt, your mouth and the rest of your body.

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rangerbarbz · 4 months ago

Text

Study Sessions

“Study Sessions”

Author’s Note: Had some time to start another blurb! (After reading Book of Bill I’m thinking about writing about Ford possessed by Bill idk) I hope y’all enjoy this one! Let me know what you think lovelies <3 EDIT: OH MY GOODNESS I DID NOT SEE ALL THE INBOX REPLIES I HAD I AM SO SORRRYYYY I HAVE SOME REQUEST IDEAS IN THERE I’D LOVE TO DO

You had conquered every single class at Backupsmore with either an A or a B as your final grade. You wouldn’t say you were a genius by any means, but you took pride in your schoolwork and wished to graduate as soon as possible. This changed when you began taking physics. You had never been so stumped by a subject. The equations, the laws, and the Godforsaken labs were the bane of your existence.

Your determined nature refused to let you fail, so you decided to ask your professor for help. He began doting on his star student Stanford Pines who had taken his class the previous semester and was excelling through the upper level classes. Your professor suggested reaching out to him because he had recently become a S.I. for the introductory physics and chemistry courses. He handed you a Post-It note with his name and the hours when he was going to be in the library.

After your last class of the day, you strolled over to the library on campus, nervous for your first session. He was so smart and you were afraid that he would get frustrated with how little you understood this subject. You made your way to the S.I. lab on campus and tapped your knuckle on the wooden door that was open. There was no one at any of the tables, but there were scattered notebook paper scribbled on and a textbook open.

“Hello?” you called, looking around for a sign of anyone. Suddenly, a head popped up from underneath the table. He had ruffled brown hair and black, square glasses.

“Hello!” the man replied, getting up from the floor. “Sorry about that. I had dropped my pen before you walked in.” He then sat on the rolling chair and scooted it closer to the table. “I’m Stanford, but you can call me Ford. I assume you’re here for physics help?”

You smiled. “I’m Y/N. Nice to meet you, Ford. Yes, I am here for physics. My professor recommended you to me.” You placed your backpack on the floor and sat in the chair beside him. “I just want to go ahead and warn you, I’ve had trouble in this class. I hope I don’t frustrate you too much.”

Ford chuckled. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. I know you’re a smart girl. Do you have any homework that needs to be completed?” You felt your face become warm. Smart girl. You enjoyed him calling you that. There was nothing quite like academic praise to a scholar.

“Uh, yes I do actually,” you answered, not letting your train of thought derail. You pulled your binder from the first pocket of your backpack and set it on the table in front of you two. “It’s ten problems, so if I miss more than three of them that means I have a D,” you continued as you removed the worksheet from the rings. “I am shooting for at least a C in the class overall.”

He grinned at you like he was happy about doing physics. “Well, I believe you’re going to get no less than an A in that class.” You laughed at his confidence in you.

“I don’t know about that, but I appreciate it, Ford,” you replied, twirling your pencil between your fingers. You gazed into his eyes; the sunlight from the window brought out hints of gold in his dark brown irises. Wow, they were so pretty.

He then cocked his head to the side. “Pardon? Did you just say ‘pretty?’” he asked with a smile tugging at his lips.

Your face immediately became hot. Oh my God you spoke out loud not meaning to. Okay how do you save this conversation. You laughed nervously. “Pretty excited to start learning that is! Ha! Let’s get started, please. I can’t wait!” you exclaimed, all in one breath.

Ford nodded. “What a great attitude to have, Y/N!” He then picked up his pencil and began to explain the first problem to you. He was so good at going into detail about every little thing. He was patient with you as well which was good because he kept on distracting you.

The more you focused on him, the more features you noticed. His glasses had scratches on the wire rims, he had a prominent, square jaw, and he had unkempt sideburns. He was so damn good looking it made you want to study thermodynamics forever if it meant you got to look at him.

You had actually gone through the homework quicker than you thought you would, so Ford asked if you would want to practice some extra problems on the blackboard. Of course you agreed. You walked up to the board ready to write whatever he threw at you but feeling self-conscious about being the center of his attention like this. He was still sitting at the table reciting the equation back to you while you stood out in the open. You then pushed your insecurity to the side in order to show him you had actually learned something today. He carefully observed you as you wrote, watching the cogs in your brain turn. He also was watching the way your face contorted in concentration and the way your fingers tapped against the chalk tray.

“Alright. I think I’m done, Ford.” You moved to the side so he could see your final answer.

He smiled at you, putting his hands on his knees to get up. “Let’s see what ya got,” he responded, walking over to stand beside you. You didn’t realize when he was sitting how tall he was compared to you or how broad his chest was. He began to mumble under his breath, making sure there were no mistakes present. “Everything looks good Y/N!” He then turned toward you, his eyes meeting yours.

“You know, you shouldn’t be so hard on yourself. Look at what you accomplished in just this short amount of time! If you keep on coming to my sessions, I know you can get through this class without worry.” Ford paused and looked back at the board, hands held behind his back. “It would make me happy to see you succeed.”

You beamed back at him. Would it be inappropriate to kiss him right now?

You (obviously) continued going to Ford’s S.I. sessions because your grade improved with each one you went to. You had also spent some time outside of the library together by doing some photography of the wildlife around campus while Ford doodled in his sketchbook. People usually clocked him as an introvert, but he was not like that with you. He had opened up quite a bit to you about his past and what he wanted to do in the future.

Today, you had met Ford on a bench outside his dormitory after your physics class had let out to share some good news with him. “Ford!” you called out. He looked up to see you waving a paper marked with an A+ in red ink. “Guess who got the highest grade in the class on the test last week?” you squealed.

“Yes!” Ford said triumphantly, standing up quickly to pump his fists in the air. His sketchbook fell to the ground with some of the loose papers coming out. “I’m so proud of you!” You put your hands on his strong shoulders and jumped up and down.

“Thank you thank you thank you! I’m just tickled pink right now,” you responded happily, bending down to pick up his drawings before the wind caught them. Ford’s face suddenly fell.

“Oh here I’ll get that,” he started, kneeling down on the concrete beside you. He was trying to pick up the papers that fell out as fast as possible, but you were faster.

Your eyes grew wide as you picked up a paper with drawings of a woman reading a textbook, in a tree taking a picture of a bird, and one where she was just laughing. They were all you. Your breath hitched in your throat as you looked at them. They were so beautiful.

“Y/N I’m so sorry. I- I can explain,” Ford stammered. “I- I have…liked you for a while now. You just are always on my mind, so I end up drawing you sometimes.”

“I like you too,” you cut him off.

His face was flushed beyond belief. “I, well, uh-”

“I’m going to kiss you now,” you stated. Ford’s eyebrows lifted as you closed the gap between you with a sweet kiss. He let out the tiniest sigh at the contact, his eyes fluttering close. You held his face in your hands and separated your lips from his to see his reaction. He was still blushing with a goofy smile on his lipstick stained face.

“That was nice. Should’ve done that sooner,” he joked. You giggled and began to kiss him rapidly on his cheeks and forehead. You had left red stains of your lips with each smooch you gave him.

“Yeah, you should have, smart guy.” He rolled his eyes and held your chin between his thumb and index finger to pull you in for another kiss. You smiled against his lips.

“I can’t wait to tell Fiddleford about this,” Ford murmured.

“ And I can’t wait to see Fiddleford’s reaction to my assault on your face,” you laughed.

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youunravelme · 1 year ago

Text

this is how you fall in love

author's note: let it be known, i've never been to jfk airport, and it probably shows. sue me. also sorry this took SO FUCKING LONG to write. it lowkey put me in a writing slump because it's just a monster but i hope you can forgive me. this fic is literally 18,952 words long, so i apologize in advance.

pairing: mat barzal x reader

summary: when confronted with the idea of going home without a date, you lie and say you have a boyfriend. which would be fine, except you haven't dated anyone seriously in a year. so instead of facing the ridicule of your family, you ask mat.

warnings: cursing (this is a given at this point), mean girl behavior?

you weren't quite sure why you said it.

actually.

scratch that.

you were 1000 percent sure why you said it.

you could not, would not be the family embarrassment yet again.

if you got one more wedding invitation in the mail, you were going to scream. you were happy for all your college friends, really, you were, but it was the presence of this one particular wedding invitation from your cousin angela that had you seething.

mainly because it was accompanied by a phone call from your mother.

"i told angela that she didn't need to put a plus one down for you, but she insisted. so don't feel bad if you don't have someone, sweetheart. plenty of people are still single at your age."

maybe it was the irritation at your mother's condescension, or the exhaustion from being the butt of every family joke for the past five years, that had you saying something you wish you could take back.

"i do have someone, mom!"

her scoff resonated through the speaker. "honey, you don't have to lie--"

"i'm not lying! it's mat!"

the pause that followed your white lie was louder than the new york city streets just outside your apartment.

"your friend, mat? you told me you'd never see him that way!" she accused.

you shrugged, despite her not seeing you. and thank goodness for that, she'd immediately know you were lying if she could see your face. "something just clicked."

"how long has this been going on?"

"a few months."

"and you never told us?"

"we wanted to keep it lowkey until we knew this was something real."

your mom hummed but seemed appeased. "well, i can't wait to meet him. you are coming down a week early, right?"

in hindsight, you should've told mat immediately instead of postponing it until two weeks before you had to leave. but he was out of town for games, then you had a work trip, and then time slipped away from you.

but there was nothing you and a tub of bubblegum ice cream couldn't accomplish together.

at least in matters of mathew barzal.

he answered the door a few seconds after you knocked. a smile overtook his face until his eyes dropped down to the ice cream in your hands.

"what do you need?" he asked with a quirked brow.

"who says i need something?" you blinked in what you hoped was an innocent manner.

mat sighed and opened the door wide enough for you to come in. "because you have ice cream, and you showed up at my door unannounced." but he took the ice cream from your hands anyway. "how'd you even know i was home?"

you shrugged and plopped onto his couch. "i checked your location."

mat blinked. "you have my location? since when?"

you rolled your eyes. "you make me sound like a stalker, you made me share my location with you when i was out drinking with my coworkers and i demanded to have yours as well."

you didn't get to see mat's face because he was walking into his kitchen to put the ice cream away.

"so why are you here?" he asked once he returned.

"can't i just come over and visit my best friend?"

mat blinked. "no. you want something. what is it?"

you threw yourself back into the couch cushions and groaned, tossing an arm over your eyes. "you're not allowed to judge me."

"well that doesn't sound fun."

"mat, i'm serious, okay? i got myself into some shit and you're the only one i trust to help me out."

you felt the couch cushions sink next to you. a hand removed your arm from your face. "are you safe?" he asked. "are you in trouble? do we need to get the police involved?"

you looked at the concern on his face and sat up immediately. "no! no no no no no! it's not like that, i just happened to lie to my mom and need your help."

"why would you need my help to lie to your mom? you're not making any sense."

you took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut. "i told my mom we were dating so i had someone to bring to my cousin's wedding."

a pause, followed by mat's obnoxious laughter.

"you told your mom we're dating?" he choked out between cackles. "how did you manage not to vomit after saying that?"

you rolled your eyes at his barbs. "you were the first person to come to mind! what else should i have done?"

"jeez i don't know, told the truth?"

you flopped back onto the couch again. "no, mat, you don't understand. you didn't hear how she was talking to me! 'plenty of people are still single at your age!' i mean the gall of that woman!"

mat laughed again. "'gall?'"

"yes, mat, some of us use words bigger than a fifth grader's vocabulary."

"careful, that's no way to talk to your boyfriend, now is it?"

you scoffed. "boyfriend? are you--" then it hit you. "you'll do it? you'll be the fake love of my life?" you jumped off the couch.

mat smiled and leaned back into the cushions. "ask nicely."

you rolled your eyes but a smile was already pulling at your lips. "mathew michael paul barzal, will you please be my boyfriend?"

he crossed his hands behind his head and smirked. "calm down, you don't have to beg."

"i would throw something at you, but you're already doing me such a huge favor."

"you owe me one," he smirked.

oh, you'd owe him big.

one week till going home

"okay, so how did we meet?" you and mat were seated at a booth in a coffee shop the both of you liked to frequent.

"no need to reinvent the wheel," he said. "let's just tell them the truth."

"that we met at a bar through mutual friends? that's so unromantic!"

mat rolled his eyes. "we're not a fucking rom com, sweetheart. we're lying to your family and being as honest as possible makes the lying look more convincing."

you sighed and sat back in your seat. honestly, you had no reason to be frustrated. mat was doing you a favor, not the other way around. and with it being the offseason, it wasn't lost on you how much mat was giving up to play house with you. he could be visiting his own family instead of lying to yours.

yet here he was, sitting across from you with his disgusting black coffee.

you must've been staring at his cup because he snapped his fingers in your face. "what? what're you staring at?"

your face twisted in disgust. "can't believe you like that shit. no cream or sugar?"

mat eyed the frappuccino nestled in your hands. "i'm sorry, i didn't realize milkshakes qualify as coffee nowadays."

"you're just mad that my drink tastes good."

mat rolled his eyes. "keep telling yourself that."

you looked down at your phone at your notes app agenda. you deleted the intricate backstory bullet point and moved onto bullet point number two.

"okay, how long have we been dating?"

mat blinked. "you're the liar, you tell me."

god, why were you friends with him in the first place?

"i told my mom we've been together for a few months but i'm not sure what constitutes a few."

mat shrugged. "let's say we got together around the time of my injury when you nursed me back to health and realized how handsome i was."

you rolled your eyes, but wrote it down in your notes app anyway. "okay so where was our first date?"

"am i the one who has to answer all of these questions? who says we even need all of this? it's not like they're gonna lock us in a room and interrogate us separately."

"my brother would say otherwise." mat gestured for you to go on. "when we met his girlfriend, my family immediately separated them so they could bombard them with questions. but since everyone will be focused on my cousin's wedding, we should be good."

"who should i be worried about?"

you thought for a moment, in your opinion, your entire family was a concern in terms of introducing them to mat.

there was your brother, who could be an ass in a heartbeat; though, when you thought about it, he'd probably just leave the two of you alone.

your dad and mom would probably ask a few questions. your grandmother would probably be too busy trying to stuff her cooking down his throat to really pose a problem.

if you were being honest, you were concerned about your cousin, angela.

she wasn't what you would call a "girl's girl." throughout your childhood, it was like she was competing against you in a competition you didn't want to be in. who had the bigger birthday, the most friends, the most boyfriends, the bigger house, the better car, the better college.

it used to bother you more when you were younger. the way she'd flirt with your boyfriends or bribe your friends to hang out with her. it was made worse by the enabling of your parents and aunt.

"just keep an eye out for angela," was all you said.

mat's brow furrowed. "your cousin? why?"

you'd never fully told him about your less than perfect relationship with her, but considering the two of you were in a public setting and he wasn't your therapist? you kept that information to yourself and just shrugged.

"we don't have the best relationship."

mat seemed to understand you didn't want to speak on it anymore so he nodded and gestured to your phone. "is your phone ready to be seen by your family?"

"i'm sorry, what? why would my family go through my phone?"

"they'll at least want to see that i'm your lock screen, you're mine, after all."

"i am not." but mat held up his phone and sure enough it was a picture of you and him after one of his games, wearing his jersey with your arms wrapped around his waist. "you're shitting me, why?"

mat shrugged and locked his phone, placing it down on the table. "i looked good in the photo."

you wanted to call bullshit, but he was already doing you a favor, so you let it go.

"fine," you said. "i'll change my lock screen." you scrolled through your photos until you found one you liked.

"can i see it?" he asked.

you immediately held your phone to your chest. "no!"

"i showed you mine!"

"that sounds like a you problem!"

"but it's not fair!" he whined.

"life's not fair, barzy."

he rolled his eyes but dropped the subject, knowing full well he could make you show him just by bringing up the favor he was doing for you. but for some reason, he decided to let it go.

"anything else?" mat asked before checking his watch.

you looked down at your notes app and couldn't find a reason to get him to stay. "no, i think that's it. why, do you have somewhere to be?"

he shrugged. "just meeting up with a couple of my teammates."

"during the offseason? don't you get enough of each other during the regular season?"

"sure, but we miss each other sometimes. i mean we go from seeing all the time to nothing. plus you got me staying in the city a little longer than normal."

you rolled your eyes. "you didn't have to say yes."

but he smiled anyway. "i know." he stood up from the table and knocked on it once. "text me the dates of travel this week so i can put them on my calendar. i'll get the plane tickets. let me know if you need anything else!"

he pressed a kiss on the top of your head and then he was gone.

an older woman stood up and walked towards you and smiled. "i just wanna say, you and your boyfriend are so cute together!"

maybe the whole fake dating thing would be easier than you thought.

going home

you slept over at mat's the night before leaving for the airport because it would make things easier on marty who agreed to drive you both to the airport. you weren't exactly sure how mat convinced marty to do it, but you made it a habit of not asking questions you didn't want the answer to.

"thanks again for the ride, marty," you said from the backseat.

originally, you and mat were fighting over who got to sit in the front, but not in the way others might expect. he said it was polite to let ladies sit in the front (which, when has he ever called you a lady?). you said he had the longer legs and needed the space.

marty groaned at the both of you to stop wasting his gas and to get in the damn car, i swear to god, barzy.

you got the backseat simply because you got in and shut the door before mat could pull you out.

"where are you and barzy headed?" marty asked.

"back to my hometown. my cousin is getting married," you supplied before he had time to ask follow up questions.

"and you chose barzy to be your date?"

you awkwardly chuckled. "tito was already in canada and i didn't have it in me to ask him to come back to the states."

"oh fuck off," mat said from the front seat.

the drive continued with you sporadically staring out the window or tuning into the conversation mat and marty were having about offseason workouts and the nba finals. when marty pulled up to the airport, mat was the first one out, opening your door a beat later.

he grabbed both of your bags in his hands, saying a quick thanks to his teammate for the both of you before shutting the trunk.

"i can carry my bags, mat."

he laughed, but otherwise continued on like he hadn't heard you. if you were a better woman, or maybe someone who hadn't been friendzoned for the last few years, you would've acknowledged the veins in his arms popping out under the strain of your luggage.

but you'd been down that road before back before you were friends and just admiring a handsome stranger from across the bar.

look at how that turned out for you.

you were expecting to split up at TSA since you knew mat had pre check and you most certainly did not. you were expecting him to hand your bags over (a backpack and a carry on) and head in the pre check lane.

so imagine your surprise when he not only refused to hand your bags over, he continued walking to the normal security check.

"mat," you hissed, but he kept walking. "mat." you stood on your toes and grabbed his shoulder to keep him from walking, but he brushed you off. so you stopped moving altogether until he noticed you weren't following him anymore.

"will you come on? you're gonna make us late!" he turned around, looking exasperated for some reason, like he wasn't the one being weird.

"mat, you need to go that way." you pointed to the pre check area.

he blinked at you, rolled his eyes, and turned around and kept walking.

"mathew michael paul barzal, where are you going?" you called after him, practically running to catch up to his long strides.

"i thought it was obvious, i'm headed to security," he deadpanned.

"but your security is that way mr. pre check."

"i'm not doing pre check. i'm going through regular security like you."

"why?"

mat glanced down at you and by that look alone, you would've thought you were the dumbest person alive in his mind. "please don't play dumb, it's not cute."

"i'm not playing dumb! and i don't care about being cute!"

"i'm not going to abandon you at tsa. i'd feel much better if we stick together, happy?" he stopped walking altogether and fixed you with a look. one that kept you rooted to your spot. "you happy, now?" you nodded. "good, let's go."

you followed after him and got in line.

tsa took a total of 20 minutes to get through. mat insisted you go first which meant you put your backpack on and grabbed your carry on before he could.

"you're ridiculous," he said as the both of you started the trek towards your gate.

"you sound like my mother," you quipped.

the rest of your walk was spent in peaceful silence. the both of you made it to the gate with about thirty minutes until boarding, which was the latest you'd ever arrived to a gate before.

you and mat argued about when to arrive the night before.

he won.

mainly because he was the one to tell marty when to pick you up from his apartment.

it felt like no time had passed when the gate attendant started speaking over the intercom. instinctively, you zoned out. you weren't an idiot, you knew when to board. this wasn't your first rodeo.

but mat started standing up when the gate attendant started calling for the first group.

you tugged his shirt sleeve. "mat, what the hell?"

it was a good thing your family wasn't there to see all the drama that unfolded between the two of you in the airport. anyone who watched the two of you since you'd arrived wouldn't believe you were in love.

not when you were actively getting on each other's nerves.

"will you stop?" he swatted your hand away only to grab it a second later to tug you into a standing position.

"what are you doing? we don't get on the plane yet--"

but he cut you off when he shoved a plane ticket in your hand with the words first class written on it.

"mat..." you trailed off. "what is this?"

he glanced down at you and rolled his eyes. "don't act like you've never seen a plane ticket before."

"asshole. why is it first class?"

he shrugged but wouldn't meet you eye. "i get more leg room."

"but why wouldn't you just put me in economy? mat i can't afford to pay you back for this!" you were panicking and beginning to think about how much you'd have to save before you could venmo him the full amount. you were about to pull your phone out to see how much it would cost before he grabbed your hand again, this time squeezing it in his own.

"don't worry about it," he said calmly. "i wasn't gonna let you sit alone, and i have the money for it, so i did it."

"but i can't afford--"

"i was never gonna let you pay me back anyways, so don't even think about how much it cost." while still holding onto your hand, he guided the both of you over to the gate entrance where your tickets were scanned so you could board.

you were sitting in first class moments later.

mat let you take the window seat while he got the aisle, saying it gave him more space, but you liked to think it was because he knew you liked watching the changing landscapes.

when the plane took off, mat leaned his head back in the seat and plugged his airpods in, closing his eyes as he did so. you mentally slapped yourself for forgetting yours, stupidly thinking that maybe mat would want to talk when he'd been uncharacteristically quiet the entire trip thus far.

you sat back in your seat and looked out the window as the clouds passed by. worries of how your family would react to mat, or worse, how mat would react to your family, filling your mind.

god you didn't think you could stomach losing him. in fact, maybe your entire idea was too risky. you'd take being the butt of the family jokes for years to come if it meant you got to keep mat. if you lost him--

your hand was squeezed twice.

you looked away from the window to mat who was holding your hand again and had an airpod out.

"you're thinking too loud," he said. "you okay?"

you nodded but it was clear he didn't believe you. nonetheless, he didn't push. instead, he held an airpod out to you. the tones of some pop song filled your ear.

mat didn't let go of your hand for the entire rest of the plane ride.

as soon as the plane hit the tarmac, mat was taking his airpod back and stuffing both into the case and back into his backpack. you texted your mom to let her know you'd just landed and would be getting an uber to her house.

while you were texting your mother, mat was grabbing your bags and holding up the line so you could slide out.

he didn't even acknowledge the glares and eye rolls being shot at both of you.

you and mat started your walk off the plane and towards the exit of the airport.

"so remind me who i need to be concerned about meeting? is it your dad?"

you laughed. your father was a lot of things, intimidating was not even remotely close to one. "not even close. it's angela that's the problem the problem."

"angela's the one getting married, right?" you nodded. "why are you concerned about her? she'll be too focused on getting married."

you laughed. actually, cackled. "she's had this planned out since we were seven. i'd bet my first born child that she has all of this finalized months ago."

"anything else i should know?" he asked.

you thought to yourself. what could you say about angela that wouldn't be mean but still be true?

"just....stay close. we need to go everywhere together, understood?"

he furrowed his brows. "even to the bathroom?"

you thought back to that one time in 11th grade when you didn't follow your boyfriend to the bathroom. "especially then," you said.

"got it. stick to you like glue."

you were staring at your phone and opening up your uber app when mat nudged you, but you ignored him.

but he nudged you before just grabbing your phone out of your hand.

"what?!" you asked.

he pointed. "is that your mom?"

a cold chill went down your back as you made eye contact with the woman who was your carbon copy holding a sign with yours and mat's (albeit spelled wrong) names on it. she was smiling and waving erratically with the hand that wasn't holding onto the poster.

"oh my god."

before you could even stop him, mat was walking towards your mom with an award winning smile. to your absolute horror, he placed your bags on the ground and allowed her to wrap him in a hug.

you zombie walked over to them, like you were trapped in some fever dream.

"honey!" she squealed when she pulled away from mat. "you didn't tell me how handsome mat was!" she said not so quietly.

god you wanted to die. curl up and die right there on the airport floor.

mat was snickering into his fist at your reaction.

maybe you should've asked beau instead.

home

your mom parked the car in the driveway; she nearly swooned when mat opened your car door for you and grabbed all of your bags.

"such a gentleman," was all she said before heading up the front porch.

the two of you followed your mother into your house where your dad, your brother, and his girlfriend sat in the living room.

"mat," you started. "this is my dad, my brother cody, and his girlfriend harper. guys, this is mat."

"i would wave, but my hands are full."

"oh honey, stop being rude and show mat to your room."

you blinked. "you mean, our rooms, right?" your mother and father were very traditional in that sense. so you'd banked on having to share a bathroom at most with mat.

not an entire bedroom.

not a tiny bed.

"we're not gonna act like the two of you haven't slept together already. i was born at night, but not last night," your father said from his position in the recliner.

you could hear mat choking on air while your brother cackled.

"besides," your mother cleared her throat. "cody's old room has been converted into an office, so that just leaves the queen bed in your room, sweetheart. that won't be a problem, will it?"

you shook your head, though you very much wanted to curl up in a hole and die. "no ma'am, that'll be fine."

your father crossed his hands over his stomach and leveled mat with a heated stare. "just because i know the two of you have slept together does not mean under any circumstances that it should happen under this roof. do you understand me, son?"

mat nodded, though he looked the most uncomfortable you'd ever seen him. "yes sir."

"oh honey," your mother started. "let them go settle in. dinner will be in an hour."

you led mat up the stairs and to your childhood bedroom. you finally gave up on offering to help carry the bags. mat, for the most part, looked happy to do something with his hands all things considered.

the room hadn't changed much since you moved out and away from home. the walls were still lilac, the carpet was still cream.

but the dolls you had growing up were missing, and for that, you were thankful.

mat dropped the bags on the ground and shut the door behind him. his shoulders relaxed for the first time since getting off the airplane.

"your family's nice," he said.

you immediately flocked to him until there was only about a foot between you. "mat, i'm so sorry. i didn't think they'd make us share a room, they never let cody do that growing up."

he smiled and placed his hands on your shoulders. "it's okay. it's just for a week. we've fallen asleep together on the couch before, it'll be just like that, just in a bed, okay? and i promise i won't stare when you get changed."

you nodded and wrapped your arms around his waist. "this is already so overwhelming."

"hey, we're the dream team, okay? i'm the best liar ever. we've got this in the bag."

and when he sounded so confident, how could you possibly believe otherwise?

the two of you got settled in your room before completely kicking off your shoes, changing into comfier clothes (with you in the closet and mat in the room) and settling into bed just to scroll on your phones. your mom came knocking before too long to tell you dinner was ready.

dinner was a pot of spaghetti, your mom's best dish. everyone was seated by the time you and mat made it into the dining room. mat, ever the performer, pulled your chair out and took the seat to your right, choosing to sit next to your mom rather than your father.

"are you waiting for a grand invitation? dig in," your father grunted. his irritation immediately kicked everyone into gear, with your family passing around garlic bread and filling plates with pasta.

the table was quiet aside from the sounds of forks scraping against the plates.

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

"oh," he said, wiping his mouth. "i play professional hockey."

"an athlete?" your mother questioned. "i thought you learned from the last one."

you about dropped your head into your plate. "mom...."

"sorry, sorry, i know we said we wouldn't talk about him, but he's going to be a part of the family soon."

mat's neck should've snapped from how fast he whipped it to look at you.

you nudged his knee under the table with yours. later, you hoped he'd understand.

harper cleared her throat. "what team do you play for?" she asked. "i grew up a devils fan, so i have to know."

"islanders," mat smirked, like it was something to be proud of, and to him, it was. to your family though? they were more concerned with the upcoming college football season to really care.

"oh god," harper replied. "at least you don't play for the rangers."

mat took a sip of his water. "agreed."

"do you still have all your teeth?" cody asked.

you inhaled and started choking on what you guessed was a spaghetti noodle. mat reached over and immediately started patting your back quite forcefully until your airway was cleared.

"yeah," mat said. "still have all my teeth."

"how did you two meet?" your mom asked. clearly your family was in interrogation mode, but at the very least these were questions you prepared for.

"at a bar through some mutual friends," mat answered, knowing good and well they weren't looking for you to say anything, their eyes were solely focused on your best friend.

"and out of all the girls, you picked this one? did you know she couldn't tie her shoes till she was in third grade?" cody laughed.

mat didn't.

which was odd, because he was usually the first one to poke fun at you.

"you wet the bed until you were nine," you shot back, ready to diffuse the tension.

a loud laugh burst from harper's mouth. not even her hand over her lips could quite muffle the volume of it.

cody rolled his eyes but held his hands up. "laugh all you want, harp. you chose this."

she smiled and leaned into him. "i did."

you stared until mat's hand landed on your thigh, effectively snapping you out of your daze. you looked at him and gave him a small smile before eating more of your mom's cooking.

dinner was over shortly thereafter, with small talk being made between the six of you. when it ended, mat was the first one up, grabbing both of your plates, while you grabbed the cups, and followed you into the kitchen.

"oh no, you're not washing dishes," you said when you saw him put the plates in the sink. but he made no sound of hearing you. "mat!" you hissed before placing your cups in the sink and grabbing him by the arm. "you're not washing dishes! you're a guest!"

"neither of you are," your mother walked in. "you just got here. your father and i will clean up dinner, the two of you can go relax and unwind. i'm sure you've had a long day."

"i can help--" mat started.

but your mom started twirling a hand towel with a smile on her face. "don't make me smack you with this, mat." and the very sight of that coupled with the lighthearted threat had you both sprinting out of the kitchen. you'd grown up in that house long enough to remember the sting of the towel on your legs when you annoyed your mother.

you also remembered trying to get back at her once and failing completely.

your father passed the two of you as he walked into the kitchen while your brother and his girlfriend took their spots on the couch. it only left one seat left in the room, your dad's chair. but combined with the air travel, the early morning, you were left exhausted and nothing sounded better than showering and crawling into bed.

"we're gonna head upstairs, long day and all," you said to cody and harper, the inference was that they would tell your parents.

mat followed you up the stairs and into your childhood bedroom. "you take the first shower," you instructed. "i have to wash my hair and it'll take longer."

he nodded and gathered his clothes while you searched your bag for a set of modest pajamas. he finished his shower in about twenty minutes.

you hopped in the shower and went through your routine, washing your hair and body before stepping out and drying off. when you got back to your room, mat was laying in bed under the covers watching the tv on your dresser.

in true fashion, he was watching espn.

"don't you get enough of this during the season? i didn't even know you liked baseball." you crawled into bed and cuddled into mat's clothed chest like you always did.

mat shrugged, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "i was waiting for you to come back to decide what we should watch."

you hummed and buried your face into his shirt.

cuddling wasn't abnormal for the two of you, most movie nights at mat's place ended with you in similar positions. you were aware his friends made fun of him for it, but mat thrived off physical affection and you were all too willing to give it to him.

"just turn on a movie," you mumbled.

he selected a random mission impossible movie that you couldn't give two shits about. but when the movie and your fresh shower were coupled with mat running a hand up and down your back?

you were out like a light.

exploring the hometown -- the dress shop

it was an alarm that woke you up right as the sun rose. you groaned into your pillow, burying your face into the fabric. a warm arm tightened its grip around your waist. for a moment you freaked out, trying to wriggle away from the person who had you locked in, but the person grumbled and groaned.

"if you keep moving like that, i'm going to need a cold shower. so stop."

oh.

mat.

oh.

you immediately stopped moving and relaxed back into the bed.

"we need to talk," he said.

"can we talk later? it's barely even morning."

but mat had no intention of letting you sleep in. he used his arm to forcibly turn you over to face him. when you looked him in the face, his hair was mussed and in his eyes. before you could even stop yourself, you hand was reaching and moving the hair out of the way.

"what did your mom mean when she said the last athlete you dated was joining the family soon?"

you groaned and shoved your head into his chest, but he lightly pushed your forehead away from him so he could look you in the eyes.

"i'm serious," he said.

you sighed. "i dated this guy in 11th grade, his name was owen and he played football. he was the starting tight end and a grade older than me." you avoided looking at him and instead traced the letters on his islanders t-shirt with your fingers. "things were great, he was nice and all, so i invited him to my birthday party. he went to the bathroom, and i noticed he was gone for awhile so when i went to look for him, he was making out with angela."

mat's grip tightened on your waist. he said your name quietly, but you shook your head.

"it's fine," you said. "i told my parents but angela didn't get in trouble, not really at least. my aunt pressured me to make up with her for the sake of 'family' and 'feminism,' so i accepted her half assed apology and congratulated her when they got engaged a year ago."

"what a bitch," was all mat said.

"mat..."

but he was sitting up and pulling you with him. "no, don't brush this off. what she did was shitty. and your family just expected you to forgive her and watch her get married to him?"

"mat, it happened years ago. forgive and forget."

"i think you mean resent and remember," he grumbled.

"can we just go back to sleep? it's too early for this."

mat huffed but sank back into the mattress.

the two of you fell back asleep until light was hitting you in the eyes. "get up, sleepy heads! you can't sleep the day away!"

you groaned at the sound of your mother's cheering, or maybe it was the bright ceiling light blinding you, either way, the way you woke up the first time was better than this.

"mom, what time is it?"

"a little after 8."

you and mat groaned in unison. "you couldn't let us sleep in?"

"there are things that need to get done, sweetheart. do either of you have something to wear to the wedding?"

"mom, it's too early for this."

she sighed and probably rolled her eyes, something you would notice if you weren't too busy burying your head in the fabric of mat's shirt. in turn, he was burying his face in your hair.

"fine. you two can sleep the day away, but i expect the both of you for dinner tonight and to be dressed appropriately for the family dinner tomorrow." she left shortly thereafter.

"family dinner?" mat asked into your hair. "how is that different from regular dinner?"

"it's with the entire family, not just mine. you'll meet all my cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents there."

"sounds like a lot."

"it is. they did this when my cousin andy got married two years ago."

mat hummed into the top of your head. "sounds exhausting."

"if you don't wanna see me for a month after this week is over, i wouldn't blame you."

he brought you closer to him, which you didn't think was possible considering you two were already pretty close. "i always wanna see you."

you smiled into his shirt, which you were pretty sure he could feel, but neither of you drew attention to it.

"we need to get up," you sighed, pushing away from him just a little.

"i'm already up."

on cue you felt something around your hip that had you squealing and falling out of bed laughing. "you absolute douche!" but it had no real bite since you were holding your stomach and rolling around on the floor laughing.

"what am i supposed to do when i wake up with a pretty girl pressed against me? ignore nature?"

you rolled your eyes and got up, searching through your bag for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. "get dressed, asshole."

by the time you made it downstairs after taking care of your hair and brushing your teeth, your mother had set out a few granola bars for breakfast.

"i would've made eggs and waffles, but i'm already swamped with helping your aunt, i just didn't have the energy this morning."

"thanks, mom," you smiled and kissed her cheek once before grabbing a granola bar.

"do you know what you're wearing to angela's wedding?" she asked.

you nodded while you chewed your bar. "i brought that blue dress i wore to cody's graduation."

your mom's face twisted into disgust. "that old thing? honey, you can do better than that."

you waited until your mother turned around to roll your eyes only to catch mat coming down the stairs in a t-shirt and jeans.

god he looked so good it should be criminal.

but instead of fawning over him, you just threw a granola bar at his chest with he caught with an ease. "what're we doing today?"

"shopping apparently," you grumbled.

"oh don't give him attitude, honey. you should've packed something more appropriate to the wedding instead of that ratty dress you brought."

"it's not ratty!" you weren't sure why you were defending a dress you didn't care about, you'd only grabbed the first dress you saw in your closet. maybe it was the fact that she was so quick to dismiss something you chose to wear.

"that dress is years old, sweetheart. it's time for something new."

"thanks for the constructive criticism, mom. you never fail to give it at the best times," you deadpanned. you glanced back at mat who was stuffing the granola bar in his mouth. "you ready to go?"

he nodded, still chewing as you started walking towards the door.

"dad! i'm taking your car." you grabbed the keys, then mat's hand, and tugged him out the door.

neither of you spoke until you were already five minutes down the road.

"are you okay?" mat asked, eyes warily staring at your from the passenger seat. "you're gripping the wheel pretty tight."

you looked down at your own hands and eased up. "she just--" you groaned. "she always does this, criticizes me or what i wear. i know she means well, but it's irritating."

"for what it's worth, i liked the blue dress."

you gave him a small smile. "the problem isn't you, mat, it's not even the dress. if my mom thinks it's ratty, angela definitely will. and at the end of the day, i think that's what my mom is trying to save me from."

"why doesn't she just tell angela to mind her own business?"

"question of the year," you grumbled before pulling into the parking lot of a local boutique.

the two of you got out and headed inside, though mat looked a little out of place. "what's the dress code for this wedding anyway?"

"i'm sure if you brought a dress shirt and some slacks, you'll be fine."

you looked around, occasionally checking the dresses on the racks, but nothing caught your eye.

"can i help you find anything?" that voice nearly stopped you in your tracks, it was someone you hadn't thought about since you left for college.

you turned around and smiled at the woman in front of you. last time you saw her, you were standing in matching caps and gowns. you sat next to each other at graduation, and before that, you shared a few classes together. if it wasn't for the bright red hair and the comments your mom had made in the past about her staying in town, you never would've recognized her.

you hoped she wouldn't recognize you.

but she said your name in shock and smiled. "it's been so long!" she said. "back in town for angela's wedding?"

and really, you had no reason to dread this conversation, meredith was as nice as she was in high school. but you weren't sure if anyone was ever this happy to run into someone they knew from high school.

speaking of, you couldn't even remember why you weren't closer to her in high school.

"meredith, hi," you replied. "yes, i'm in town for her wedding. are you going?"

meredith nodded and smiled. "i'm actually her maid of honor."

of course she was.

that explained why you weren't close friends in high school.

"that's so exciting!" you smiled through a clenched jaw.

"i was shocked to hear you weren't in the bridal party though. is everything okay?" meredith sounded genuinely concerned, and while she was sweet, you never remembered her being very observant.

you shrugged. "we've grown apart since i moved away, it's water under the bridge."

meredith nodded until her gaze shifted to behind you were you assumed mat had just appeared. "who's this?"

"this is--"

"i'm mat," he held his hand out to shake. "her boyfriend."

meredith shakily grabbed his hand, you could see it tremble in his grip. "meredith," she practically swooned. a moment passed before she let go of his hand.

you had to keep from rolling your eyes. you were no stranger to mat's effect on women but it didn't make it any less obnoxious.

"we're looking for a dress for her to wear to the wedding," mat explained as his arm snaked around your waist. "i think she looks amazing in anything, but if you could find her something summery that matches her complexion, maybe a nice sundress, that would be very helpful."

you looked at mat like he'd grown a second and third head while meredith scrambled off to find something to fit his description. "are you okay?"

"why wouldn't i be?"

"you just listed of a theme of clothing without even batting an eyelash."

mat shrugged. "i was just being efficient. if you don't like what she picks out, we can always find something else or go somewhere else. but i thought the summery vibe would look nice with what i packed."

"and what did you pack? a white shirt and black slacks?"

"guess you'll have to find out in a few days," he quipped before lightly booping your nose.

meredith came back with an arm full of dresses and ushered the both of you back to the dressing rooms. she handed the articles of clothing to you and whisked herself away citing that she'd be around if you needed anything.

which was perfectly fine with you, it meant you didn't have an audience to trying on dresses.

"try the green one on first!" mat called as you shut the door behind you.

"you're not running the show here, barzal. as much as you would like to think otherwise."

you put the green one on first anyway.

you looked in the mirror, not sure if you liked the sleeves or the cut of the dress. was it too short for a wedding? it felt too casual.

"are you gonna show me? i'm assuming it doesn't take ten years for you to put on a dress, sweetheart," mat said.

"i'm not doing a fashion show for you, barzy."

"your boyfriend would like very much to see what you're getting, baby."

you rolled your eyes, mainly because he had a point. but amidst your irritation, hesitancy rose up but you didn't know why. mat had never given you a reason to be insecure, he was more than affirming about your place in his life and your appearance. you had no reason to be insecure, but yet it was rising up anyway.

still, you opened the door.

you poked your head out to see mat sitting on his phone until he heard the creak of the door. "well, let me see you!" he said.

you came out from behind the door as confidently as you could manage.

only for mat to let out a low whistle.

"oh shut up," you whined.

"you look good, baby," he smirked. "almost too good to wear out in public." you flushed under his scrutinizing stare that seemed to linger on some areas more than others and the nickname made heat slowly crawl up your neck.

"you're such a flatterer."

"just calling it like i see it, honey."

"will you quit it with the nicknames?" you covered your face with your hands.

"am i embarrassing you, baby?" he asked, voice much closer now. you didn't know why until you felt two hands on your waist.

"no."

mat pulled your hands down and smirked as he placed his palms back on your waist. "liar."

you rolled your eyes. "do you like the dress or not?"

"it's not about my opinion, do you like it?"

you all but stomped your foot in frustration. "mat," you whined. "what was the point of coming out here if you're just going to defer to my opinion?"

he shrugged like it wasn't bothering him to be that close to you; unlike you, whose heart was racing a mile a minute. "because i like to see dresses on pretty women, specifically you."

you shoved him away with a light push on his chest. the skirt of the dress bunching up a bit as his grip was pulled away.

"lemme see the next one!" he called as you walked back into the dressing room.

you tried on three more dresses, all of them garnering a similar reaction from mat, but none really feeling like the dress you should be wearing. none of them were nice enough to wear to the wedding without your mother, aunt, or angela saying something smart.

your hope was diminishing when you got to the final dress. it was plain in comparison to the others as far as beading and lace went, just a simple navy blue dress with a deep v and a small slit up to mid thigh. but you tried it on anyway.

"i don't know about this one, but i kinda like it. i wanted to know what you think," you said as you came out the dressing room.

mat looked up from his phone.

only for his jaw to drop.

you shifted your weight from foot to foot, back and forth, as you waited for a comment from him. mat, in all your time as friends, was never hesitant to share his opinion, but the longer he stayed silent, the more fearful you got that maybe this dress wasn't the one you should be wearing.

"do you not like it? i can--"

"no, you're getting it." he stood up and called meredith over who seemed to have been hovering just out of sight, like she was waiting for that exact moment. "she's getting this one, can you ring it up?"

meredith smiled but looked back and forth between you two. "of course, she'll have to take it off but--"

"mat, are you sure? i'm not even sure about this."

"baby," there he went, using another pet name. "you look fantastic, and even if you didn't, which you do, i took one look at your face and could tell you loved this dress. you're getting it." he said it so confidently you were inclined to believe him.

you started reaching for the tag on the dress. "how much is it--"

he ripped the tag off and handed it to meredith along with his card. "will you ring this up for us while she gets dressed, meredith?" he asked.

"mat, you don't have to pay--"

“let’s be honest, this is more for me than you." he said it so confidently, how could you possibly say no to him? "go get dressed," he said. "i'll be out here."

you quickly changed into your other clothes and grabbed the dress on your way out. mat quickly took the dress out of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. you didn't think anything of it until he pulled you in and placed a kiss on the side of your head.

you would've read into it had meredith not been in plain sight.

he must've done it to keep up the act.

meredith took the dress and wrapped it in a box that mat refused to let you carry, just like he refused to let you see the receipt. you told him that you'd just venmo him, but he ignored you all the way to the car.

preparation mode

your mom had ordered pizza for dinner which you and mat had taken up to your room. no one in your family batted an eyelash considering you both cited it as having a long day and wanting to unwind.

"so tell me about your family, the ones i haven't met yet," mat said through a mouth full of pizza.

you were currently wearing one of his t-shirts that you stole from his apartment a month ago and a pair of running shorts while you leaned back against the headboard. "well, there's my uncle mike, he's my mom's brother and the oldest in their family. for the most part he minds his business, he's on his fourth marriage and probably the last one because him and his wife don't even care to mask their indifference towards each other." you took a huge bite of your pizza and swallowed it before continuing. "then there's aunt patty who is angela's mom and she's about as nice as they come but also she's super passive aggressive and let's angela get away with everything."

"sounds like she's not actually nice, and you're just conditioned to think she is."

you rolled your eyes. "we don't have time to psychoanalyze my familial relationships, barzy."

"sure we do, if your aunt lets your bullying cousin get away with everything, then she's not actually nice."

"what does that make her then, smart ass?"

"a pawn." and he said it so lightly that you didn't even think about it for a moment. when you finally registered what he said, you furrowed your brows. so mat continued. "anyone who lets their child 'get away with everything' even when they're wrong is not a parent so much as they are a pawn in their child's game."

you blinked at him once. then a second time, wondering when your best friend had been replaced by your therapist.

"what?" he asked.

"i'm just trying to figure out what happened to my best friend. it's like you were replaced by dr. phil."

mat rolled his eyes. "i'm allowed to be wise on occasion."

"is it an occasion if it's never happened before?"

"what makes you say that?"

"i'm saying someone who gets hit in the face with a hockey stick or a puck every other game doesn't always have the best wisdom."

"but i do now! and that's what matters." he took another bite of pizza and hummed to himself.

"what?" you asked. "what was that hum about?"

"tell me about your other family members."

you explained how your cousin andrew (otherwise known as andy) was the oldest of angela's siblings and was married two years ago to his wife kelsey. they were distant from angela because she announced her engagement at kelsey's baby shower, but in true family fashion, that incident was pushed under the rug.

then there was thomas who was a year older than you and angela who had an affinity of sleeping around and generally not giving a shit about anyone or anything. he would say what he wanted when he wanted and for that reason, he was one of your favorite relatives. because, for the most part, he was the only one other than your grandmother who called angela out on her shit.

"what about your grandparents?"

you shrugged. "my grandfather died a few years ago and my grandmother is still around. she's honestly my favorite family member, though i'm sure that has nothing to do with me and cody being her favorites."

"oh i'm sure," mat said.

"and that's my mom's side of the family." you slapped your thighs and took a sip of your drink.

"what about you?"

you looked at him, confused at what he could possibly be talking about. "what about me?"

"you've told me about your family, tell me about you."

you scoffed. "mat, we're friends, what could you possibly want to know about me?"

he shrugged. "tell me something i wouldn't know. if you don't, i'm going to go downstairs and ask your mom to bring out the baby photos."

you rolled your eyes and sighed heavily, like it was some burden on you. "fine. when i was a kid, angela stuck bubble gum in my hair and i had to get a horrendous haircut. cody made fun of me until it grew out again."

"i bet you were still cute."

you got up from the bed and picked up a picture frame off your dresser. for some reason, your mother insisted on decorating your room with your worst moments, hence why your prom photo was hanging in the stair way. you handed the picture frame to mat who immediately smiled at your seven year old self smiling with two missing teeth and a shitty haircut.

"oh," he said.

"what?" you asked.

mat looked up with a huge smile on his face. "i definitely would've had a crush on you as a kid." you rolled your eyes and shoved him in the shoulder. "hey!" he protested. "i would've! you were cute!"

"shut up, you would not. i bet seven year old mat was the cutest boy in his grade and too worried about hockey to look at seven year old me."

"he might've been, i'd never know. but all i'm saying is if seven year old me knew seven year old you? he'd be in love. well, as much love as a seven year old can feel. in fact, i would've given you my favorite pokemon cards if you'd asked."

you could feel heat creeping up your neck at the idea, and how far it was from the truth. your classmates gave you hell for the way your hair looked, and it was such an odd and unbelievable story that no one took you seriously until the next school year when you grew your hair out.

"well, do you have a photo of you as a kid? it's not fair that you get unlimited access to all my childhood photos and i don't get to see you!"

mat rolled his eyes but pulled out his phone and scrolled through his camera roll. he flipped his phone around so you could see a photo of him in hockey gear with a big smile on his face. "aw mat," you cooed. "you were so cute."

"would you have had a crush on me?"

you thought about it for a moment. "i actually had a crush on this guy in my grade named frankie, so probably not."

mat's jaw dropped. "so my crush would go unrequited?"

"mat, honey, we didn't even live in the same country. this whole situation is hypothetical."

"tell me, did frankie play hockey?"

"what? no."

"was he funnier than me?"

"mat how am i supposed to know if second grade you was funnier than frankie?"

he shrugged. "i don't know. but was he?"

"he was the class clown."

mat groaned and fell back into your pillows. "seven year old mat is crushed. he stands no chance."

"honey, i cannot stress this enough, this is a hypothetical situation."

but all of a sudden, he stood up to his full height and walked towards you with the picture frame still in his hands. he placed the frame back on your dresser and closed the distance between the two of you. "what if it wasn't hypothetical?" he said, his tone shifted from playful to serious.

you locked his phone while you looked at him, to say you were confused would be an understatement. "what're you talking about?"

he shrugged and placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer until you hips touched and it was like electricity struck your nervous system. "what if--"

a knock on the door interrupted anything mat was going to say. the two of you jumped apart. "hope you two aren't naked!" cody's voice sounded through the wooden door. "we're having a movie night and mom made it clear that you two need to be downstairs in five minutes."

"we'll be right out!" you called, though your eyes were still locked on mat's.

he reluctantly let go of you as you cleared your throat. you didn't know what was different about air around you, how it felt tense and warm at the same time.

you headed downstairs with mat trailing behind you and sat on the couch next to each other. you weren't sure what changed, but when mat put his arm around you like he had done in the past, you fought every urge to tense up. what was going on with you?

when the movie was over, and it was time for all of you to go to bed, you and mat dressed in separate rooms. you were in bed by the time he returned and you were too busy controlling your breaths to notice his hesitancy.

he called your name quietly, but you squeezed your eyes shut and evened out your breathing. mat pushed a strand of hair behind your ear as he got in bed before he wrapped an arm around your waist pulled your back to his chest.

your heart beat against your ribs loud enough you were sure he could hear it. you weren't sure why, or what it was, not even your ex boyfriend had your heart beating like that, and it took you months to get over him.

when mat finally fell asleep, you relaxed, and pulled yourself gently and slowly out of his hold.

you placed a pillow between you two.

it was on the floor on mat's side the next morning.

the "big family" dinner

"is this appropriate enough to wear to dinner tonight?" mat came into the room wearing a plain white tee and black jeans with adidas.

it should be a sin to look that good in something so simple.

"if you were anyone else, i'd say no," you replied.

he blinked. "what does that mean?"

"i mean somehow you make really plain outfits look good."

he smirked. "you saying i look good?"

"oh please. like you don't know."

mat put both of his hands in his front pockets and leaned his shoulder against the wall. "maybe, but it sounds better coming from your mouth." you rolled your eyes and shoved him aside as you gathered your clothes in your hands. "what're you wearing?"

"a shirt and shorts." you walked into the bathroom across the hall to change into your outfit before going back in the bedroom to get your shoes.

mat let out a low whistle much like he did at the boutique. "is that my shirt?"

you looked down and saw the islanders logo on the front and shrugged. "must be."

"when did you grab this?"

"must've been during one of our sleepovers." you walked right out of the room and down the stairs to join the rest of your family. the six of you (your father, mother, brother, his girlfriend, mat, and you) would be riding in two separate cars. cody tried to convince your parents that mat should ride with them while you rode with him, but you quickly shot that idea down. you wouldn't say you were embarrassed of your parents, but you surely weren't going to leave mat to his own devices with them.

which is how you ended up sitting in the backseat of your dad's subaru with a foot of space between you and mat.

"mat, honey, tell us about your family! do you have any siblings?" your mother asked from the front seat she tried to give him earlier.

"you have longer legs!" she said.

"and my dad would literally punch me in the chest if i didn't let you sit shotgun," mat replied.

"i have a sister, her name's liana."

"oh, liana!" your mother gushed. "what a beautiful name! i should've named you that, honey!"

"mom," you whined. "you don't think it would be weird to have the same name as mat's sister?"

she hummed. "i guess, when you put it that way..." your mother shook her head. "how'd you get into hockey, mat?"

"mom, mat's gonna be interrogated all night long, can we save the questions for later?"

"baby, it's fine," mat assured you. your heart picked up just a little at the pet name but settled down when he turned his attention back to your mom. "i grew up playing it," he said. "my dad used to play as well."

it was like your mom fell in love with your boyfriend even more. "see honey? he continued a tradition that his father set for him!" you kept yourself from snarking back and rolling your eyes and just smiled. "i wanted my daughter to be a nurse like me," she explained to mat. "but she wasn't interested."

"mom, i can barely handle the sight of blood and you thought i would be okay in the icu?"

mat cackled. "you should see her when i have cuts and bruises from games, she pulls out gloves and about douses my wounds in peroxide."

"i'm not gonna get a blood borne disease because of you, barzal," you replied.

he rolled his eyes but smiled at you anyway.

you zoned out for the rest of the car ride as your aunt's house grew closer. mat, ever the observant friend, reached out and grabbed your hand in his, squeezing it three times until you looked at him.

"you okay?" he mouthed. when you finally nodded he sighed and brought your hands to his lips, kissing it once before placing your joined hands between the two of you. your heart soared at the gesture, but you looked back out the window before he could see it.

your father parked the car in front of a giant house you were all too familiar with. memories flashed before your eyes of summers spent swimming in the pool in the backyard and playing with toys in angela's room.

"be on your best behavior," your mom directed towards you with a knowing look in her eyes. you weren't sure why, you hadn't made a scene in years, though you were contemplating it if your mom kept harassing you.

you and mat slid out of the backseat and followed your parents to the front door. your mom didn't even bother knocking; she opened the door and left it open for the rest of you to follow. mat trailed behind you, grabbing your hand at the last minute before walking through the front door.

you were immediately accosted by a plethora of voices and music, unknowingly, you gripped mat's hand a little tighter as your aunt rounded the corner with a glass of champagne and a large smile. you saw as she greeted your parents with hugs, careful not to spill her drink. when her eyes focused on you, or rather the hand you were holding, there was a sense of smug satisfaction that occurred when you saw the poorly disguised shock on her face.

"hey!" she greeted. "i see you brought a friend."

before you could say anything, mat was taking his hand out of yours and shaking your aunt's hand. "i'm mat, the boyfriend."

aunt patty smiled and then looked at you, like she was evaluating something. "nice to meet you, mat," she said before bringing you into a hug and giving the same salutation she gave your parents. "angela will be excited to see you, both of you!" she said.

doubtful, you thought. very doubtful.

aunt patty ushered the both of you further into the house; mat's hand returned to holding yours until it was time to go outside in the backyard and join the rest of the family, then his hand moved to your lower back.

the two of you walked outside and watched as your family mingled in the backyard.

"who do we talk to first?" mat asked.

you shook your head. "no one. we go grab food first. my family is easier to handle with food."

mat nodded and followed your lead to the table with assorted finger foods on it. the two of you grabbed a plate full of food and found a table to sit.

it wasn't long before the table filled up with cody and his girlfriend who'd arrived moments after you did.

"did you give him the family run down?" cody asked before taking a bite out of one of his deviled eggs.

"this isn't amateur hour, cody. i spent the entire evening yesterday prepping him."

and a coffee date and plane ride dedicated to perfecting a fabricated story.

as if reminded that you two had appearances to keep up, mat reached back and draped his arm around the back of your chair and leaned back in his own. he looked so comfortable doing so you would've believed him to be genuine.

it wasn't long before your other family members came over, your grandmother to start. both you and mat stood to greet her. she wasted no time pulling you into a hug and kissing your cheek, holding your face between her hands and smiling.

"my, my, my, you've grown," she said.

"you say that every time you see me, grandma," you replied.

"and i mean it every time." her eyes dart to over your shoulder where you're positive mat is towering over you. "and who is this?" she asked, but it was clear by the smirk on her face that she already knew. the entire family probably knew given how much your mother liked to talk about your love life.

"i'm mat," he said and extended a hand out to shake.

your grandmother immediately let go of you and all but pushed you out of the way to hug mat who didn't even hesitate to embrace her back. when your grandmother pulled away she smiled and glanced back and forth between you and mat.

"so you're the gentleman who stole my baby's heart?"

mat gave your grandmother a megawatt smile. "no ma'am, you have it backwards. i just tricked her into dating me, still not sure how i accomplished it though."

your grandmother looked back at you and all but swooned. "you didn't tell me how handsome he was."

you blinked. you weren't sure what kind of magic ability mat had but the fact that you grandmother looked ready to become a cougar or push you down the aisle said something.

"didn't think he was your type, grandma."

she rolled her eyes but the smile on her lips said enough. "you and that attitude, girl, i've missed it. i hope she doesn't give you this much trouble, mat."

he only reached around your grandmother and tugged you into his chest. "oh this one? she usually gives me a run for my money," he said before placing a kiss on the top of your head.

your grandmother looked at you and smiled.

and just like that, he'd won over your grandmother's approval. it was a record for you, actually. even your best boyfriend had to meet her several times to win her over.

and mat did it in a matter of minutes.

really, it wasn't fair how charming he was.

"well," she said. "i'll let you two finish eating, i'm sure your cousin will make her way over here at some point." and on cue, your grandmother and you met eyes and shared an understanding. while your grandma loved angela, she, unlike your aunt, was not blind to the passive aggressive comments made by your cousin over the years.

mat pulled your chair out and pushed it in as you sat down before taking his place next to you. his hand immediately made its way onto your thigh, his thumb stroking the outside of your leg.

he leaned in and murmured in your ear. "that went well."

you swallowed the weird sensation in your throat that probably had nothing to do with his touch and proximity.

"a little too well if you ask me," you replied. "she likes you a lot more than my other boyfriends."

mat shrugged like that wasn't the highest praise you could give him. "to be fair, your exes have always been shit."

"they have not!"

cody chimed in from across the table. "they have." you glared at him but he seemed unfazed. "do you want me to tally the boys you've brought home?" but he didn't even give you a chance to answer before he started listing your exes on his fingers. "there was cole who skipped your birthday because it wasn't important. then there was conrad who had the weird relationship with his sister. then there was randall who wouldn't speak to you for days on end and then text you out of the blue."

you rolled your eyes. "those don't count, those were high school boyfriends."

cody deadpanned, though you both knew he skipped one particular boyfriend who happened to be the shittiest. "oh i can skip straight to college and post college if you'd like. you've given me plenty of material to work with." so he continued. "there was yohan who didn't have a bed frame, just a mattress on the floor."

"we were in college!"

mat chimed in. "a mattress on the floor is bad, babe. you can't excuse that."

you huffed and sat back in your chair as cody kept going.

"what about peter who refused to ever get your number and only communicated through snapchat? or lance who had the armpit fetish?"

mat nearly spit out his drink. "a what? what does that even mean?"

you groaned and put your head in your hands until a new voice chimed in.

"it means that she wore a lot of tank tops when they dated, per his request. isn't that right?"

you looked up and saw the rock on her hand before you ever saw her face.

"angela," you said and tried to smile, though the poorly masked snicker made by cody told you it probably looked more like a grimace. "hey, long time no see."

"alright, that's our cue, harper," cody mumbled before him and his girlfriend left the table.

she smiled and fixed her eyes on mat. "and who is this?"

mat, as if sensing the challenge she was presenting, moved his hand from your thigh to around your shoulder. unlike meeting your grandmother, he didn't stand up or offer a hand, he just nodded and smile. "i'm mat."

"and who is 'mat?'" she asked in what she believed was a charming way.

you had to keep yourself from rolling your eyes.

"i'm her boyfriend," mat said before placing a kiss on the side of your head. it was with premature smug satisfaction that you witnessed the smile on angela's lips falter just a little. but then you remembered the times before when you introduced boyfriends to family and how angela looked at them with some sort of predatory gleam in her eyes when met with a challenge.

and mat's indifference to her was the biggest challenge of all.

a tall blond man walked over and wrapped an arm around angela's waist. "baby," he said. "i got you a drink." and he handed her a flute of champagne.

she sipped it but never took her eyes off mat.

"who're you?" owen asked. you had to keep yourself from rolling your eyes. all those years ago, you thought his blunt ways of communicating were charming, now they just grated on your nerves.

"honey, this is mat, the infamous plus one."

"boyfriend," mat corrected. "simple mistake, i get it. it's not like the rsvp's asked for a relationship definition or anything."

"how long have you two been together?" owen asked.

"a few months," you answered in unison, which immediately made angela quirk a brow. you started sweating, your hands started shaking in your lap.

almost as if sensing your nerves, mat reached over with the hand that wasn't around you shoulders, and placed it on your thigh, rubbing smooth circles into your skin.

goosebumps formed on your skin, but for an entirely different reason that a cold breeze considering it was nearly sweltering outside.

"we've been friends for awhile though," mat said. "known each other for about as long as we've been in new york."

angela hummed, but didn't seem convinced. "okay," she smiled. "enjoy the party."

when she walked away with owen in tow, you let out a sigh.

"you okay?" mat mumbled.

"that went better than i thought."

"i thought you said she was mean," mat said.

"she typically is, maybe she's changed though. it's been a minute since i came home."

mat hummed, but maybe your earlier conversations convinced him of angela's normal behavior, because he didn't seem like he believed you.

"don't hum at me," you said. "she could!"

mat shrugged and leaned back in his chair, his hand squeezed your shoulder where it rested. "okay," he said before placing a kiss on your temple. "i trust you."

the night continued on without much incident. cody got a little too drunk, but that was to be expected. your uncle, his wife, and your cousins all came by and said their hellos, but for the most part, you and mat just stayed at the table and talked.

it was moments like that when you forgot how easy it was to just be with him. you couldn't count the amount of times you found yourself sitting on his couch with your head in his lap, his hand in your hair, as you ranted about your shitty day at work or a frustrating phone call with your parents. days like that were typical with mat, because he made it so easy to just be.

you felt most like yourself when you were with him.

and sure it sounded a little codependent, but you were almost positive he was your other half.

but not in a romantic way.

never in a romantic way.

after all, he was way out of your league. the amount times he had women approach him at bars when the two of you went out were astronomical.

you were forever the friend, and you weren't really all that upset about it. so long as you had mat, you'd take him in whatever capacity he'd give you.

the night was quickly coming to an end. harper had cody's arm wrapped around her shoulder, assuring everyone she would be driving them home. mat's hand had found a new home on the small of your back as he guided you out and back towards the front door, following your parents who insisted on hugging every family member goodbye.

you felt your body lean into mat's touch and the side of his body, your own feeling drained and exhausted.

"hey," he leaned down and mumbled in your ear. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom, i'll meet you at the car?"

you looked up at him, faces close together. you were taken back to earlier when you almost kissed and for a moment, you found yourself imagining a world where you could. where you could lean up and figure out what chapstick he used.

"yeah," you stuttered out when it was clear you'd stayed quiet too long.

"great," he smiled before kissing your cheek and disappearing down the hallway.

you were immediately crowded by your mom, aunt, and to your displeasure, angela.

your cousin stumbled up to you with a bright smile on her face as both of your mothers talked to each other. "your friend was cute," she said. "wouldn't mind running away with him." she giggled, but you saw the truth in her eyes, the calculated stumbles and fake drunken smiles.

"oh, angie's had too much to drink," your aunt said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "you know how drunk people can be."

"i've always heard drunk words are sober thoughts," you stated.

your mom scoffed and waved a hand in the air. "oh honey, that's just a saying, angela doesn't mean what she says, not while she's intoxicated. after all, i have done plenty of things while drunk that i didn't mean in the morning."

you squinted at your mother, completely baffled by her excusing of angela. which, after all these years, shouldn't surprise you.

"what'd i miss?" mat popped back next to you like he was summoned.

"oh nothing--" your mother started.

"mat!" angela screamed, throwing her hands up in the air before wrapping them around his shoulders. "if i wasn't getting married tomorrow, i'd run away with you! it's too bad my cousin here didn't introduce us before!"

mat peeled her arms off his body and pushed her away as gently as he could. "before what? before you stole her high school boyfriend?"

what.

the hell.

angela's smile dropped right as your mom's and aunt's eyes widened. "and i'm not a fan of running." he grabbed your hand and pulled you out the front door, and waved down harper who was about to pull out of the driveway.

"we rode with my parents," you said, still in a daze from what he said.

"we're riding with harper and cody back," was all he said.

harper unlocked the doors for you and mat but didn't even bother asking why the two of you decided to switch rides.

the drive back to your childhood home was pretty quiet save for the country music playing softly over the radio. it wasn't your favorite genre, but you weren't going to complain.

by the time you made it home, you were exhausted. mat trailed you up the stairs after locking the front door behind him because harper mentioned something about taking cody back to their apartment instead of staying.

when he finally walked in the room, you were already changing out of your shorts. maybe it was a testament to how tired you were, or how long you had known each other that made you not give a shit about changing in front of him. you did, however, try to stay decent, so you waited until you had your pajama shirt on to remove your bra before sliding into bed.

mat had apparently walked out of the room to change while you had your back to the door because he came walking back in wearing basketball shorts and a tee shirt, like he did the other nights.

"you okay?" he asked, getting in to bed and sliding next to you. he bumped his shoulder with yours.

"why wouldn't i be?" but you wouldn't look him in the eyes.

"c'mon," he said. "you can be honest with me. i'm your best friend."

your eyes watered at his words, the ones he spoke in front of your family, and the ones he spoke just then. "thank you," was all you could get out.

he pulled you into his arms and for a moment, you were taken back to similar circumstances.

like when you watched marley and me. or when your neighbor with the cute dog moved away.

mat had always been there.

"what're you thanking me for?"

"no one's ever stood up to her like that."

mat scoffed. "i wasn't just gonna let her disrespect our relationship like that, real or fake." he kissed the top of your head. "i almost didn't say anything, wanted to keep the peace, but then i saw the look on your face and couldn't keep quiet."

"what look?"

"the kicked puppy look." you looked up at him as his thumb stroked a line on your cheek. something must've passed over your face because his thumb stopped its motion. "what?" you sighed and shook your head. "c'mon," he said. "you can tell me."

you sighed. "i just--i don't want her to take you away."

mat tilted your chin up and ducked his head down so your foreheads touched. "you're not gonna lose me, especially not to your cousin, okay?" you nodded. "i need to hear you say it, baby."

but how could you talk when he called you by pet names? how could you breathe when you could kiss him if you just lifted your chin.

damn.

did he know the effect he had on you?

"baby," he prompted.

"okay," you said. "i trust you."

"and that's all i ask." he kissed your forehead and pulled away, all too soon if anyone asked you. "now, let's watch a movie, i need to destress after tonight."

you settled into the pillows and laid your head on mat's chest as he scrolled through netflix with one hand; the other arm was wrapped around your back.

the wedding

the next two days were spent with you and mat walking around the city, nothing noteworthy happened.

but you woke up on the day of the wedding dreading what was to come.

the ceremony itself wasn't until that night, which gave you the entire day to worry about angela and mat.

his words should've comforted you, but you were too caught up in why you cared. he was your best friend, angela didn't want him that way. and mat was too loyal to let a girl come between your friendship, he never let it happen with his previous girlfriends.

but there would be times when you wouldn't be together that night. could you honestly expect mat to hang around the women's bathroom every time you needed to use it? you were lucky he got along with your brother and your grandmother as well as he did, but your grandmother would definitely leave early and cody would definitely ditch anyone in a heartbeat if it meant he'd get laid.

"you okay?" mat asked, placing his hands on your shoulders as you stared in the bathroom mirror. "you've been in here a minute. at first i thought you were taking a shit, but you left the door open." he rested his head on top of yours and made eye contact with you in the mirror.

"just stressed about tonight," you admitted.

"you got nothing to stress over, you got me, and we're not getting married. we'll just get drunk and party. sounds like a great time to me!"

"god, if i'm like this at someone else's wedding, i can't imagine what i'd be like at my own."

mat shrugged. "i wouldn't let you be stressed. i’d make sure to give you the wedding you want."

you pulled away and turned around, brows pulled together like attracting magnets. "wouldn’t that be weird though? you making sure my wedding was what i wanted?"

"considering it would be my wedding too, no i don't think it would be weird." he shrugged and said it so casually, you almost didn't register what he said. but when it sunk in, your cheeks heated up and you broke eye contact before lightly shoving him away.

"you're such a flirt," you said, hoping it wouldn't give away the way your heart raced in your chest.

"doesn't mean it isn't true!" he called after you. mat flicked on the fan and shut the door. "now watch a movie, i don't want you to hear me shit."

"we're not even in the same room, dipshit!" you laughed before heading back to your room and turning on netflix.

mat joined you after about ten minutes in the bathroom and the two of you watched a movie until your parents shouted from downstairs to start getting ready.

you got ready in the bathroom simply because that was where you makeup was. mat took the bedroom simply because it was easier. you put on your dress, fluffing out the ends to make sure no part of it was wrinkled before you started on your makeup.

you were finished rather quickly, mainly because mat kept calling your name like a child, waiting for you to fix his tie because he didn't know how to.

when you walked out of the bathroom, though, mat met you in the hallway. his eyes were focused on the tie in his hands until he heard the door open. he glanced up and his jaw dropped.

"fuck," he mumbled.

you could feel the heat going up your chest and your neck until it settled in your face. "do i look okay?"

mat swallowed and nodded. your normally chatty best friend was rendered speechless for the first time since you met him. he cleared his throat and gestured to you. "i knew buying that dress was a good move."

you rolled your eyes and smiled as you walked over to him. you took the tie out of his hand and wrapped it around his neck, tying a windsor knot until it was snug against his throat.

"i think you're trying to choke me."

you scoffed. "if you learned how to tie a tie, this wouldn't be a problem."

"if i learned how to tie a tie, i wouldn't have an excuse to be this close to you." his hands snaked around your waist and pulled your hips close to his.

"you should know you don't need an excuse to get close to me." you tried out the flirtation a little, unsure if he was joking or not, but given how his eyes lit up just a bit, you were pretty confident he was serious.

"baby--"

"sweetheart! we need to be leaving soon!" your mother called up the stairs.

you and mat sprung apart like the other had spontaneously caught on fire. neither of you would make eye contact too embarrassed to have been interrupted by your mother. though you couldn't meet each other's eyes, you managed to see mat gesture for you to go down the stairs first.

"you both look so cute!" your mother gushed as both you and mat entered the living room. "go stand in front of the fireplace! i have to get your picture."

you rolled your eyes. "mom, this isn't prom night." but mat was already tugging you over to where your mom was pointing and wrapping and arm around your waist.

your mom snapped a few pictures before hurrying the two of you and your father out the door. the wedding didn't start for another hour, but the venue was thirty minutes away and your mom wanted to make sure your aunt wasn't going to have an aneurysm.

mat held your hand as you walked down the front porch stairs towards the car. his grip was tight and firm. when you finally joined him on the sidewalk, you expected him to drop his hand, but he held onto it even tighter, lightly swinging it between your bodies.

he didn't let go until you got into the back seat of your mom's car.

he lightly chatted with your parents while you stared at the space between the two of you. the entire week had your mind whirling, you two were just friends, but sharing a bed, the physical closeness, the flirting, the near kisses, it was all driving you insane.

sure, you thought mat was good looking, but you'd long given up the hope that he'd ever like you. he was mat and you were you. even if there wasn't a large disparity between your perception of both of your physical attributes, you still would've felt the divide.

he was everything, practically your best friend.

and that alone was too important for you to risk on some juvenile feelings.

mat nudged you with his elbow. "you okay? you've been quiet."

you blinked back into the present, noting that your mother had turned on abba and was singing to dancing queen while your father hummed the tune under his breath. both of them were too distracted to notice or hear mat's question.

you nodded, meeting his eyes briefly before looking away, too scared to get caught in their orbit once more. "yeah," you said. "just thinking."

"uh oh. that's not good," he joked. but you didn't laugh. his face turned serious and he nudged you once more before grabbing your hand in his own. "you can tell me anything, you know that right?"

"of course," you replied.

he squeezed your hand twice and didn't let go until you got out of the car.

as your father pulled into the parking lot, you got a good view of the venue. a large building with tall windows and music blasting throughout the open doors.

once you got inside, your eyes were immediately overwhelmed by the visual stimulation of large flower arrangements everywhere with the most pricey looking lighting fixtures dangling from the ceiling.

it was extravagant, and everything you would've expected angela's wedding to look like.

"oh god," mat mumbled under his breath, loud enough just for you to hear. he leaned down, placing his hand on the small of your back. "remind me not to do this much at my wedding."

you rolled your eyes. "what if it's what your bride wants?"

he paused. "do you want something like this?"

"god no."

"then i don't need to worry."

you lightly shoved his shoulder. "quit joking."

"who said i was joking?" he asked.

you stared at him until your dad cleared his throat and reminded the two of you that you still needed to find your seats at the ceremony.

"honey," your mother grabbed your arm. "do you want to come with me to see angela? i'm just gonna check on her and your aunt to make sure everything is ready and together."

you were shaking your head before she could even finish getting the words out. "nope."

"honey, it's your cousin's wedding."

"and she didn't even make me a bridesmaid. i'm sure she'll be fine waiting until the reception to see me."

"i thought you weren't angry about that! i told you not to take it personal."

it took every ounce of will not to roll your eyes. mainly because mat was standing there, and if you let it slip how frustrated you were, he might step in and make your mom hate him. "i don't care, mom. but if she wanted me to see her before the wedding, she would've made her part of her bridal party. but she didn't so i'll see her when she walks down the aisle." with that off your chest, you grabbed mat's hand and marched towards the group of chairs where the ceremony would take place.

you quickly chose a seat close enough to see the actual ceremony happen without being too close that you could see angela promise her life away to the ex she stole from you.

"that was intense," mat commented. "you sure you're okay?"

you sighed and contemplated putting your face in your hands if it wasn't for the makeup you put on earlier. "i don't know why she wants me and angela to act like we're best friends, it's gone on like this for our entire lives, but it's never worked. angela has never liked me, and i'm tired of pretending like it's my fault. i don't even know what i did to make her constantly try to undermine me."

mat looked around before grabbing your hand and tugging you towards what you guessed were the bathrooms, away from the prying eyes of nosy guests.

"it's not your fault," he said, bending down so you could look each other in the eyes. "there's nothing wrong with you, either, okay? she's blind if she can't see how amazing you are. and your mom is wrong for trying to force a friendship. you understand?"

you nodded.

"i need to hear you say it, baby."

"i understand." a beat later. "thanks, mat."

he kissed your forehead and grabbed your hand. "anytime."

the two of you found your old seats taken by an older couple, so you sat in the same row as cody and harper who had shown up while you were gone.

the wedding started shortly thereafter with your parents joining you in the same row. your mother looked relatively calm for what you knew had to be a shitshow in the back room. angela was very particular, and while there was nothing wrong with that were it anyone else, your cousin's strong opinions often stressed your mother and aunt out.

the music started playing and the bridesmaids started walking down the aisle with the groomsmen and owen. you didn't recognize most of the girls, probably because you hadn't been around angela's friends since high school and you never came to her birthday parties after you graduated (not that she invited you anyway). the one bridesmaid you did recognize was meredith from the dress shop. she looked beautiful in her lilac dress. and her smile did nothing to giveaway what chaos the dressing room was in before she walked out.

with everyone in their places at the front, the music changed tune. every guest, including you, stood to their feet and turned around. everyone watched as the double doors opened and angela came walking down the aisle in a princess gown with her father escorting her.

she smiled brightly, probably basking in the attention she was receiving. she didn't even look at owen until she got close enough to the front that there was no one else for her to smile at.

i'd do it differently, you thought. when i get married, i won't be able to take my eyes off his face.

the officiant told everyone to sit and continued on with the ceremony. you mostly blocked it out, peering at mat who looked more interested in the ceremony than you were. he caught your stare a few times and smirked before grabbing hold of your hand and kissing the back of it.

and your heart soared every time.

mat was an affectionate friend, this much you knew. anytime you picked him up from a roadie, or when he came over after you just got back into town, he'd hold you in a death grip hug for five minutes at the very least. most of the hugs involved the two of you swaying side to side with mat mumbling how much he missed you into your neck.

all that to say, you weren't a stranger to his affection.

you were, however, unused to the kisses and pet names, all of which started as soon as you introduced him to your family.

it was the crowd cheering that startled you out of your stupor. you glanced at the front to see owen dipping angela in a kiss while the photographer captured the moment.

and maybe it was the bitterness in your chest speaking for the teenager who lost her first serious boyfriend, but the kiss itself looked more performative than like true love.

mat extended a hand to you when you realized everyone was standing and heading to the tables to eat.

"you alright?" he asked once your hand was secured in his own. "you keep zoning out."

you shrugged. "just thinking."

"about?"

"how do you know if you love someone?" you asked, replaying angela and owen's kiss in your mind. you were so preoccupied, you didn't notice mat scratching the back of his head and blushing.

"well, you uh," he stuttered. "why're you asking me? haven't you been in love before?"

he wouldn't meet your eyes, his own kept focusing on avoiding bumping into people as you made your way to an open table. mat pulled your chair out and didn't sit down until you did.

"i don't know," you continued on. "i thought i was, but i never saw forever with those guys."

"thank god," he mumbled.

"what?"

he looked up all doe eyed and innocent. "hm?"

"what did you say?"

he shrugged. "i didn't say anything. you must be hearing things."

you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips said you weren't really bothered by his lies.

cody and harper joined you at the table; your parents took the last two seats. all six of you sipped at the water on the table and waited for your dinners to be ready.

"so," harper started. "what did everyone think of the ceremony?"

you could've groaned, not because you weren't interested in weddings, you loved them.

just not angela's.

and talking about all the beautiful aspects of it sounded like a violation of your eighth amendment rights.

"oh it was so gorgeous, she looked fantastic," your mother supplied, fawning over your cousin as usual. but it was when she looked around the room before she leaned into the table that your attention was piqued. "patty was scared the wedding would need to be called off. said something about how owen was getting cold feet, she wouldn't say why though."

were you a horrible person for internally rejoicing at angela's possible stressor?

maybe just a little.

but you'd taken the high road your entire life. so in your opinion, it was warranted and earned.

mat nudged your knee with his. "at least look concerned," he mumbled with a smirk playing on his lips.

"i do! i am!" you said just loud enough for him to hear. mat looked at you until you cracked under his gaze. "okay, so i might be just a little smug, sue me."

he rolled his eyes, but the smile playing on his lips said he was far from annoyed.

your family continued to make idle chatter until the dj started announcing the bridal party. it wasn't anything that hadn't been done before; the bridesmaids and groomsmen danced their way into the room. moments later, angela and owen came in with their hands riased and cheering along with everyone else. your entire table joined in with the other guests and clapped and hollered until it was no longer socially acceptable.

dinner came out shortly thereafter.

again, it was nothing that hadn't been done before. a simple pasta dish with a side salad wasn't anything to celebrate. the food was absolutely delicious, you wouldn't lie about that, it was just interesting that angela, who prided herself on being different, had planned a party that didn't even crack your top ten favorite weddings.

but she'd never sought your approval anyway, so why would she start now?

you were shocked out of your intense thoughtfulness by an arm wrapping around your shoulder. mat didn't even look phased as he pulled you just a little closer to him, talking with your dad about the upcoming season like they'd been friends for ages.

the weight of his arm was comforting, reminding you of times he'd slung it across your shoulders after a game and pressed a kiss to your temple or when you sat next to each other at bars.

others had looked at your relationship with a microscope. sydney and grace both had asked multiple times if there was something more with the two of you and looked skeptical whenever you gave them a funny look while saying no.

he was your best friend, always would be so long as you never fucked anything up.

"how's your pasta?" mat asked.

you blinked. "same as yours."

he rolled his eyes yet again and kissed your temple. "smart ass," he mumbled against your skin.

dinner was barely over when music started playing, marking the sign of the first dance. angela and owen danced to "can't help falling in love" while everyone looked on. they didn't talk, they seldom even smiled until, like they were suddenly struck by electricity, they remembered they were being photographed and had all eyes on them.

you bided your time, sipping the water in your glass, because you knew mat was gonna drag your ass onto the dance floor like he had before at other parties and weddings.

sure enough, as soon as the song ended and the party music started, mat's hand was in yours, tugging you towards the center of the floor.

you dragged your feet as a front, just wanting to prolong the feeling of his palm encircling your own. you didn't know the name of the song, just like you didn't understand the light feeling in your stomach when mat pulled you close and placed his hands on your waist.

"in case i forgot to tell you," he shouted into your ear over the pumping music. "you look really pretty tonight."

you could feel the heat crawl up your neck. you ducked your head so you couldn't see him, but he pulled your chin up to look him in the eyes.

"don't get shy on me now," he teased, though his eyes weren't full of mirth like they usually were. they were soft, like sunlight filtered through a bedroom window. "come dance with me."

the two of you danced, hips shaking and moving to the beat of the music. mat always had a grip on you, whether he was twirling you around or had both hands on your hips.

you couldn't remember ever having this much fun at a wedding.

who would've thought it would've been angela's wedding?

but the music slowed down, usually signaling that it was your time to sit back down until hey ya! came on. so you made a move to step off the dance floor and head back to where your brother sat nursing a glass of bourbon, but it was a callused hand that kept you in place.

"where do you think you're going, baby?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. "you owe me a dance."

you hesitated, knowing that in the past, you'd danced the night away, but with him here, in front of your family, with your grandmother giving you a smile, you didn't know you could fake it any longer. you couldn't keep pretending that you weren't completely infatuated, overcome with love for your best friend.

your hand would've started shaking had he not had a steady grip on you.

mat pulled you close. "c'mon, i won't even step on your toes. i promise."

you relented and let him pull you back into the middle of the floor. he placed his hands on your waist and, for a moment, you thought you were dreaming. in another life, you'd be wearing white and be the prettiest person in the room. in another life, you'd have matching gold bands on your fourth fingers.

in another life, he'd be yours.

you wrapped your hands around the back on his neck, playing with the hair there absentmindedly.

"you're far away," he said. "come back to earth for a minute. what're you thinking about?"

you shrugged. "wondering if i'll ever get this," you answered honestly, even going as far as looking him in the eyes as you spoke.

"you'll get it," he said without a doubt in the world to be found. "i'll make sure of it."

"what about you? do you want something like this?"

he glanced around the room, eyes landing on the newly married couple in the center. "not if i'm not marrying you."

you blinked, heart in your throat. he looked so honest, but you'd known him long enough, seen who he's dated too many times, to know he was joking.

he had to be.

right?

so you laughed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back so that you unintentionally missed the small look of confusion married with hurt on mat's face. you did it to protect yourself, to keep yourself from getting hurt, and unintentionally hurting him in the process.

"i can never tell when you're joking, barzy," you smiled, hoping it covered the shake in your voice.

"but i--"

"may i cut in?" you glanced to your left and saw your smiling grandmother.

"oh i--" mat stuttered, flustered in a way you'd never seen before.

"sure!" you interrupted his train of thought. "i have to pee anyway."

besides, mat was probably safest with her anyway. angela wouldn't try anything while your grandmother was standing there.

you stepped away, waist feeling cold from the lack of contact and made your way towards the bathrooms.

it wasn't that hard to find the restroom, it was just a longer hallway. but it was far enough from the reception that the music was only a faint bass noise.

you walked into the bathroom and did your business. fluffing your hair and fixing your dress in the mirror when you'd finished washing your hands. you opened the door and saw shiny black shoes before you saw the man standing across from the woman's bathroom.

"owen?" you asked. "the men's bathroom is a little further down the hall."

"i know," he said, pushing off the wall to move closer to you.

red flag.

"what?" you asked, moving slightly out of the way so he couldn't push you back into the bathroom. "have you been drinking?"

"sober as a judge."

you furrowed your brows. "what?"

he took another step closer to you while you quickly turned so your back was no longer against a wall, but towards the party. if he kept advancing towards you, the weird tension would soon be out in the open and surely he would stop then.

right?

"i'm sorry for what i did back in high school."

"owen, what are you talking about?"

"for cheating on you. you're all i've ever wanted and it's my biggest regret to this day that i ever let you go."

you were gonna be sick.

"owen, you don't know what you're talking about. you love angela. you got married to angela. she is your wife."

"but i want you." he reached out to touch your hair but you backed up quick enough to just miss his hand.

"no you don't," you said. "you decided i wasn't enough nearly ten years ago."

"but you looked so good and so happy with him, with max or whatever his name is--"

"--mat--"you corrected.

"--it made me miss us. don't you miss me?"

"i don't even know who you are anymore, owen! that person you knew in high school isn't me anymore, and you don't get to decide you want me now just because i'm happy and you aren't."

"we were so good together!"

"we were sixteen, owen! we were children."

"but--"

"i gave you just about everything i could possibly give, and you decided it wasn't enough. you decided to get with my cousin while we were dating instead of breaking up with me. you decided to marry her. and now you get to live with that decision." you spun on your heel and were met with mat's stare. even in the dim lighting, you could see his jaw clenched.

"mat," you breathed like it was your last breath.

"you okay?" he asked.

"yeah," you said. "just telling owen where the bathroom was."

you both knew it was a lie, especially if the look on mat's face was any indication, he'd probably heard enough of the conversation. you allowed yourself to be guided back to the recpetion with mat's hand firmly placed on the small of your back.

you two kept dancing until it was time to send angela and owen off. while mat gathered your things, you said goodbye to your extended family members because you two were leaving tomorrow afternoon to head back to new york.

which scared you.

this last week had been amazing. pretending and playing house with mat meant unlocking feelings you'd pretended didn't exist for the entire duration of your friendship. and while you wished you'd never unlocked pandora's box, part of you was happy you could never go back.

a warm and weathered hand tugged on your forearm and snapped you out of your reverie. "don't let that boy go." when you looked down, your grandmother was staring at you with earnest eyes. "he loves you the way you deserve to be loved."

your eyes welled up with tears as you hugged her. "thanks, grandma."

"i mean it. don't come back without him, you hear me? i need great grand babies soon."

you flushed at the idea and whined. "please don't tell me you said that to him!"

but she didn't answer you, she just laughed.

"you ready?" mat asked, walking over with your brother and harper following closely behind. "cody said he'd give us a ride home."

"treat my baby right, mathew," your grandmother said. "or else i'll have to fly to new york and kill you, you hear?"

he smiled. "yes ma'am."

you hugged your grandmother tight. "i love you."

"love you more."

mat ushered you outside, following behind cody and harper to their car. none of you were interested in the send off, even if was only going to take a few seconds.

the four of you got into cody's car and drove off before your parents could admonish you for leaving early. cody and harper talked amongst themselves about bills and what their own wedding would look like whenever cody proposed (and if you knew him like you thought you did, it would be soon) while you and mat just held hands in the backseat.

it was weird, the physical touch even when no one was looking. but you weren't complaining about it, if anything, you were clinging to it, scared that once it finally ended you'd go into withdrawal.

cody parked outside of your parents house and let you and mat in before driving off. you headed upstairs, with mat on your tail, ready to get undressed and to curl up in bed with a stupid movie.

"that was fun," mat said. "did you have fun?"

you sat down on your bed and started taking off your shoes. "i always have fun when i'm with you," you said absentmindedly. a moment of silence passed. you looked up to see mat shifting from side to side. "are you okay?"

"what did owen want?" he asked honestly.

you sighed and stood up, walking towards him. "i'm not even sure. he started professing how much he missed me, but i shut it down because i don't have feelings for him."

a glimmer of hope. "you don't?"

"nope."

he nodded. "good."

you took a deep breath and stepped closer to him. "i could never go through with it anyway, i'm in love with someone else." please please please don't let this past week be a joke to him. please let him be a horrible actor.

he stared at you.

a moment of silence.

his eyes searched your own, like they were looking for something.

you could feel the tears well up in your eyes at the thought of his rejection. you'd take being heartbroken, but you couldn't take losing your best friend.

and then.

his hands were on your cheeks, his lips were on yours, and your heart had jumped into your throat. your arms wrapped around his neck and into his hair.

when you finally broke apart for air, mat was smiling. "i'm guessing you were talking about me?" he asked, though the smug tone in his voice said he didn't actually need to know the answer. not when the kiss had already confirmed his suspicions.

"you're such an ass," you jokingly shoved him away, but he caught your hand and used it to pull you back in, to kiss you once more.

"but this ass loves you." he paused. "that sounded a lot more romantic in my head than it did coming out."

but you smiled anyway. "this ass loves you too, barzy."

and two years later, standing in front of everyone in a white dress, you couldn't help but smile. lying usually got you in trouble, but you couldn't have imagined a better ending.

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