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gubler-me-up · 3 years

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Have Fun With It (MGG Request)

Request: Can i request a fic? Giggly sex with mgg? just being so comfortable around each other and making love but then joking throughout and hdjsksksl🤤

A/N: Thanks for the request, anon! I hope this is cute and giggly enough for your need of cute smut!! I know it’s a shorty but I promise it’s a goody 🥰

Couple: MGG/Fem!reader

Category: Smut

Content warning: Penetrative sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, swearing, unprotected sex

Word count: 2k

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It was a beautiful, warm spring day in May and you couldn’t wait to do absolutely nothing for the day. It was your self-care Sunday for you, so you had no plans of moving a single finger unless it benefited you. What made the day extra special though was Matthew was home to be your right-hand man whenever you needed something.

You had informed him you wanted to start taking better care of yourself by having one day out of the week to focus on yourself. Whether that be doing a lavish skincare routine, deep conditioning your hair or indulging in sweets for the day. Maybe a combination of both. He assured you he would make your Sunday as relaxing as possible.

He let you relax and indulge in yourself while he cleaned around the house. He even asked you here and there if you needed anything. He never forgot to give you a kiss every time he did something for you before he left to continue cleaning the house. However, you wanted to see how far he would help you relax on your self-care Sunday.

You were sitting in the living room watching your favourite show on Netflix as you waited for your clay face mask to set. You turned your head to look down the hall to see Matthew putting away the dishes. You smiled deviously as you watched him bend down to take out the dishes from the dishwasher. You thought it was about time his cute ass was near you again.

“Matthew, can you come here please?” You asked.

“Yeah,” he replied.

He turned around to see you smirking at him. He raised an eyebrow at you but still approached you with a smile. You could feel your mask hardening quick so you had to tell him what you wanted quick. He stood in front of you waiting for what you wanted from him. He couldn’t help chuckle as he saw how expressionless the face mask made you.

You placed your hands on his thighs. You slowly rubbed them up and down as you looked up at him. You thought regardless of your mask you could seduce him with your eyes. Obviously you had thought wrong. Matthew tried to hide his laughter by covering his mouth. You sighed.

“I’m trying to seduce you,” you mumbled.

“Oh?” He chuckled.

“Is it not working?” You asked.

“No, I’m very seduced,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “I’d suck your dick if my mask hadn’t hardened.”

“How about you sit back, relax and let me treat you on your self-care Sunday?”

You leaned back on the couch and looked up at him with excited eyes. He smiled as he showed you his fingers and gestured you to open your legs. You spread your legs immediately. He kneeled down in front of you and pulled down your shorts along with your underwear. He pressed his tongue between your folds.

You let out a deep moan as his tongue ran up and down your folds before he stuck two of his fingers in you. You broke into a wide smile as he pleasured you. The pleasure you felt was short-lived as you realized you cracked your mask. You let out a deep groan of frustration. Matthew shot his head up to look at you to see what was wrong. He couldn’t help letting out a chuckle as he saw how annoyed you looked about cracking your mask.

“I guess that means I was doing a good job,” he said.

“Unfortunately you did. Ugh, I guess I have to wash it off now,” You said.

“I don’t know about that. I think the crack look fits you,” he joked.

You giggled. “You’d have sex with me while I look like a mess?”

“I’d have sex with you no matter what,” he said.

“Aw, you’re too sweet, babe, but I think I’m gonna wash it off and then we can start having some real fun,” you said as you got up.

As you walked towards the powder room you could hear Matthew’s footsteps close behind. You giggled as you just knew his eyes were glued to your bare ass. You slapped your ass to let him know you had an idea as to where his eyes were lingering. You stopped in your tracks to look back at him with a smirk. His eyes immediately bounced up from your ass to look you in your eyes.

“Think you’re slick?” You asked.

He chuckled. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever, you know you were looking.”

He playfully gasped. “I would never do such behind your back.”

“So you’d look at my ass from the front someway somehow?”

“I wouldn’t look, I’d grab.”

“Oh, spicy talk. Now I definitely have to wash off this mask so we can get it on.”

You walked into the powder room and wasted no time to wash off your mask. You could feel his hands wander up and down your hips as he waited for you to finish washing your face. As you finished, you used your shirt to wipe your face dry.

“Look at me,” he said.

You turned around to look at him with a wide smile. You brushed your hair out of your face and turned your head both ways to show him your clear face. He chuckled as he stroked your freshly washed face.

“No more clay face,” you said.

“I think I miss her already,” he said.

You giggled as you kissed him on the lips. You could feel him smiling through the kiss and soon felt his hands slither up your shirt. He distanced himself from the kiss to pull your shirt off.

“How come I’m always the first one to be naked first?” You giggled.

“Because you’re better to look at naked,” he said before embracing you in another kiss.

You smiled. “No fair.”

“I don’t think you’ll be saying that once we start having sex,” he said.

“Well, I guess my self-care Sunday can be interrupted by sex,” you said.

“To be fair you can consider sex self-care,” he said.

“I think that would be masturbation no?” You questioned.

“Not on my watch,” he said.

He grabbed your hand and started to lead the way back to the living room. He led you all the way to the couch and you laid down. You pulled him down with you so he wouldn’t dare try to tease you. He chuckled as he kissed you while his hands lingered up and down your sides.

“I think it’s your turn to get naked,” you said through the kiss.

He broke the kiss to lean up to take off his shirt. You groaned as you pointed at his pants. He looked down and then looked back up at you with a smirk.

“I thought you wanted me naked and now you’re being picky?” He questioned.

“Your pants have the real gold,” you said.

“Just because I don’t have breasts doesn’t mean my chest isn’t of any value,” he joked.

“I mean it is nice,” you said as you traced his chest with your finger.

He imitated your actions by tracing his finger around your breasts. You giggled as you shooed his hand away from your chest. He laughed as he leaned back down to kiss your neck all the way up to your ear.

“I bet the clay mask version of you wouldn’t be so hypocritical,” he joked.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. You can take that up with her next time you see her,” you said.

“I don’t think she makes as much noise as you do though,” he said.

You then felt his fingers back in you, stroking your g-spot. You moaned loudly as your head tilted back. You heard his chuckle ring throughout your ear as he teased you with his fingers.

“Yeah, she definitely wouldn’t moan like this,” he said.

“If you want to hear real moans put your dick in me,” you said.

“Is that a dare?” He asked.

You giggled. “It’s a double dare.”

He leaned up and smirked at you as he pulled down his pants to reveal his hard dick. You bit your bottom lip as you reached your hand out to grab it. He gave you a taste of your own medicine as he shooed your hand away. You chuckled as you retracted your hand.

“I guess I deserve that,” you said.

“Do you know what else you deserve?” He asked.

You raised a curious eyebrow. “What?”

“This.”

He held your legs back as he slid his dick inside of you. You let out a moan and tilted your head back. He leaned down to kiss your neck. You started to giggle as he continued to kiss up and down your neck.

He chuckled. “I forgot you’re ticklish on your neck.”

He didn’t stop kissing your neck though which made you squirm and smile. He leaned up from your neck and kissed you on your lip instead. You grabbed his head to deepen the kiss and to prevent him from kissing your neck again. You didn’t want to get distracted from the pleasure he was giving you.

As he continued to pump his dick in and out of you, you couldn’t even kiss him back anymore. You continuously let out moans as you wrapped your legs around him to bring him deeper into you. He went back to kissing your neck and you instantly flinched. He soon stopped but you heard his soft chuckle in your ear.

“Sorry, it was too easy,” he whispered.

“You’re so annoying sometimes,” you giggled.

“Is this annoying?” He asked as he started to go faster.

You moaned louder and found yourself not even forming words anymore. You scratched your nails up his back as he didn’t slow his pace at all. You heard his groans grow louder in your ear which indicated to you he was close to cumming. You wrapped your legs around him tighter before grabbing his face to embrace you in another kiss.

As you two made out, you could feel his pace slow. You then felt his cum release inside of you. He leaned up from the kiss and took his dick out of you. He looked down at you to see a little pout form on your face. He smirked before giving into you. He leaned down to give you another kiss which instantly made you happy. He leaned up from the kiss and transferred a few to your forehead.

“I think you sound pretty hot when you giggle,” he complimented.

“Maybe I’ll giggle more when we have sex than instead of moaning,” you said.

He leaned up and laughed as he put on his pants. He grabbed the blanket from the couch and covered you with it. He got up reached for the remote on the coffee table to go back to Netflix. He looked back at you with a smile as you cuddled up in the blanket.

“How about for now we watch something on Netflix and I can make us something to eat?” He suggested.

You smiled and nodded. “I think that would be the perfect end to my self-care Sunday. Well, almost perfect.”

He chuckled. “What would make it perfect?”

You made an exaggerated thinking expression with your hand on your chin and flickering your eyes around the room. He laughed as he watched you being the dramatic actress you were. You finally looked at him with a sly smirk.

“I think a round two would do me good for the day,” you said.

He smiled. “I think I can make sure that happens.”

You clapped your hands. “I love that for us.”

“But for now what do you want to eat?” He asked.

“Hm, I think I’m feeling for a grilled cheese sandwich,” you said.

“I should have seen that coming. Consider it done,” he said.

He gave you another kiss on your forehead before giving you the remote and leaving the room. You watched him walk out of the room. You smiled as you looked at him strut out with his engrained model walk. You had to admit you were looking at his ass again.

“Nice ass,” you yelled.

He laughed. “Thanks, babe.”

—–

MASTERLIST

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#spencer reid #mgg #Matthew Gray Gubler #matthew gray gubler request #matthew gray gubler smut #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler x you #matthew gray gubler x y/n #smut #Criminal Minds #criminalminds #criminal minds smut #mgg x reader #mgg x y/n #mgg fanfiction #mgg fic

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davidpastrsnack · 3 years

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If you're taking requests... 18 fluff + Matthew Tkachuk? 👁👁

fluff 18 - you cancelled plans for me?

You couldn’t pinpoint exactly why, but for whatever reason, you just felt so off. Maybe it was the exhaustion of another week in the books catching up to you, or maybe it was just your body telling you to slow down. Regardless of the cause, you knew there was no way you were getting yourself off the couch tonight.

Luckily, you didn’t have to. The second you got home you took off your clothes and opted for your favorite sweat set, the soft fabric clinging to your skin as you decided what movie you were going to watch. But this time picking out what to watch was not as difficult as it typically was. As you were settling in for the night, Matthew was hastily getting ready to spend the night with a handful of teammates. Despite seeing each other practically daily, they just couldn’t get enough of each other.

You heard the rush of water halt as he turned the shower off from the bathroom which was followed just minutes later by the hum of his feet as he padded across the floor of your shared bedroom. You soon got distracted by the movie you had finally landed on while the blanket splayed on your body was keeping you warm. Matthew soon captured your attention once again, the soft scent of his cologne filling the room making your head turn up.

“Does this match?” He asked, his hands gesturing to the fitted shirt he paired with casual dress pants.

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his words. Matthew asking for fashion advice was not exactly a rarity. His eyes met yours inquisitively as he anxiously awaited your response. “Yes,” you answered, “You look good, Matty.”

Your sign of approval was all he needed, his legs shuffling as he started to head back into the room to address the mop of untamed curls on his head. But just as he was turning, something pulled him back to you.

“You alright?” Matthew asked, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.

“I’m good,” you responded. It wasn’t entirely the truth but it also wasn’t entirely a lie. You knew if you gave him any inclination that you were not having the night of your life he would stay home and that was the last thing you wanted. He deserved to enjoy some time with them away from the rink.

But Matthew knew you too well for your front to trick him. He could see it in the way your shoulders were lifted with tension, the way your eyes appeared almost glazed over from exhaustion, and most telling, the way you hadn’t been excitedly asking him about his plans like you usually do.

“Don’t lie to me,” he spoke, his tone in harsh contrast to the softness of his blue eyes as he looked at you.

You rolled your eyes at his assertion before continuing to assure him you were fine. “I’m just tired, that’s all,” you promised.

“Just tired?”

“Just tired,” you repeated. “You should go, you’re going to be late.”

Matthew nodded his head in agreement with you, looking down to see the time displayed on his wrist. He hurried to put his shoes on before he made his way back to the couch where you laid.

“Call me if you need anything,” he hummed as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your forehead.

“I will,” you replied, sending him off with a kiss back and an I love you.

As Matthew made his way to the elevator, he just couldn’t shake the feeling that he shouldn’t be leaving you. You promised him that you were fine and he didn’t know of any reason why you wouldn’t be, but it didn’t feel right to him. Stepping out onto the ground floor, he pulled out his phone from his pocket to text the group chat of guys.

Last minute change of plans, I’m not going to make it. Don’t have too much fun without me.

With that, Matthew turned back to face the elevator, pressing the up arrow while he ignored his phone that was already buzzing with messages that were surely displeased with him. He didn’t care one bit though, he knew he was doing the right thing. As soon as he unlocked the front door, he was met with your voice.

“What did you forget this time?” You teased, a gentle smile gracing your face as your eyes locked with his.

Matthew laughed, knowing that he deserved that reputation. But despite you expecting him to say his wallet or keys, he instead replied, “Nothing, I just want to stay in tonight.”

“What happened?” You questioned, your face laced with concern as you searched his face for any hint as to why his plans suddenly changed.

“Nothing happened,” he chuckled as he sat down next to you, “I just want to be with my girl, is that alright?”

“Matthew,” you said sternly, but you couldn’t hide how you really felt. “You cancelled plans for me?”

“Of course,” he responded like it was the most obvious answer in the world. His arm wrapped across your shoulders, pulling you tightly against his frame. He never failed to amaze you at just how well he knew you. You had still yet to say anything even suggesting that you felt off, but somehow he just knew.

“Thank you,” you whispered into his chest as your appreciation for him overwhelmed you.

“Don’t mention it,” he muttered back before placing a kiss to the side of your temple.

The rest of the night was spent watching your comfort movies and eating your favorite takeout in Matthew’s arms; exactly where you needed to be.

#this is literally bad i’m sorry lmao #matthew tkachuk #my writing

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hockey-fics · 3 years

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Does He Know ~ Matthew Tkachuk

Summary: Your new relationship will never compare to the relationship you had with Matt and you and Matt both know it.

Word Count: ~6k

Warnings: Language, alcohol consumption, references to anxiety

A/N: There’s usage of bold and italics to reference timeframe changes, hopefully they make sense! Everything in italics are flashbacks.

“This one is cute,” you say to Adam, showing him a picture a stranger had offered to take of you two while you were out walking through a local park. Adam with his arms wrapped around you, you looking up into his eyes. It was candid, the ones that followed were with one of his arms around your waist, both of you with plastered smiles.

“It is,” he hums in agreement, barely peeling his eyes off his video game to look. “You going to post that on your Instagram?”

Adam had made comments here and there about how you never posted with him. When you got together you still had plenty of pictures with Matthew. You still had a few up, not bringing yourself to delete all the memories of Matthew from your social media. Matthew. You knew you were still in love with him.

You had been with him for almost four years. You were so completely and wholly in love with him. Nothing bad had happened to end things, nothing to make it easier to end that relationship. When you got together with Adam eight months after the breakup with Matt your friends and family accepted it, believing easily that you were over Matt. But you truly wondered how they could assume that when you had spent so long entirely wrapped up in your love with Matt.

But the comments had started getting to you. From your friends. From your family. Matthew’s career was unpredictable. You never knew what was going to happen with him. They would ask about him getting traded. And you were confident that wouldn’t happen for the time being, but what if it did? How could you settle down with someone who could be moved across the country, or to a new country, just like that? For a career that was entirely unpredictable as well. He could get hurt and his career could be over just like that. It was a short career at that, and then what?

You were still young, you always brought that up. But you had let it wear you down to the point of becoming more and more distant with Matt. Your mind was constantly full of worries. You started to wonder if they were right. Would it be safer and easier to settle down with someone who had a stable, traditional career?

So you ended it with Matt, through shaky sobs on your couch. And then you ended up in his arms, crying for an absurd about of time over a breakup you were initiating. He tried to change your mind, tried to convince you that he would always be there for you, that whatever happened you two could figure it out…together. But you had already told your parents that you were ending things with him and you felt like you couldn’t back out of it now.

You were trying so hard to move on from him with Adam. But it never felt the same. It had been three months and you couldn’t even begin to compare it to your relationship with Matt. From the very beginning with Matt you knew it was different, you had a spark that you didn’t have with Adam.

“Yeah, I guess,” you mutter, opening Instagram. You post it quickly, before giving yourself too much time to think about it, to reconsider.

The next morning you wake up to your phone vibrating on your bed beside you and you’re barely awake but you answer it immediately after seeing Matt’s name on your screen. “Matt?” You whisper groggily as you sit up in your bed, rubbing your eyes.

“You have a boyfriend?”

“No,” you reply quickly, not awake or alert enough to realize what you were saying. “I mean, yes, yeah, I guess I do.”

“You guess? What does that mean?”

“I don’t know…nothing. I just, yeah, I have a boyfriend.”

“Does he make you happy?”

You’re caught off guard by the question, silent for a few seconds too long. “Yeah, I think so.”

“He doesn’t know you like I do, Y/N.”

“Matt,” you whisper, pulling your knees to your chest, tears welling in your eyes.

“Does he know what kind of chapstick you use and that you can’t go anywhere without it?”

‘I’m here’

You were spending the entire day with Matt. It was one of the few days he was both back in Calgary and had a full day off during the hockey season. Hurrying down the stairs of your apartment building you hop into his car, eagerly leaning over and pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Hi,” he chuckles, kissing you again before leaning back into his seat and pulling away from the curb. “Breakfast?”

“Yes, please,” you say, pulling on your seatbelt. Leaning forward you grab your purse, rifling through it for a minute before sighing loudly. “Matt,” you say in a sing-song tone, an obvious indication that you were about to ask for something.

“What?” He asks, glancing over at you with a knowing smile.

“Can we go back?”

“Why? What did you forget?” He laughs.

“My chapstick.”

Reaching beside him Matt opens the console, taking his eyes off the road for only a second before picking up a small tube of chapstick, extending it towards you. Your eyes focus on the small object before reaching over and taking it, turning it over and over again in your had. It was the exact kind you used. Tinted cherry chapstick. You couldn’t imagine Matt would be willingly using a tinted chapstick.

“That’s the right one, right?” Matt asks, glancing over at you.

“Yes,” you comment, pulling the lid off and swiping on a layer. “Where did it come from? Did I leave it in here?”

Matt chuckles, shaking his head. “I bought it…in case you forgot yours.”

You can feel your heart swell with happiness and appreciation for Matt, never thinking chapstick could mean so much.

“Does he know that you bite your nails when you get nervous?"

“You okay?”

Glancing up you look at Matt, standing in the doorway of your living room. “Fine,” you reply, looking back down at your computer and twelfth ‘common job interview’ website you had scrolled through that morning.

“You just painted them,” Matt comments gesturing to your nails as he walks over and sits down on the couch beside you. You had spent the morning getting ready for a job interview. Painting your nails, doing your hair and makeup, picking an outfit.

Glancing down at your hands you realize you had been biting your nails again, sighing softly. “It’s a bad habit,” you mutter, eyes trained on the computer screen again.

“I think you’re more than prepared. Maybe you should give it a break,” Matt suggests, watching you contemplate it before you slowly reach over to shut your computer.

“You’re right,” you agree, setting your laptop down and leaning back on the couch. It’s only a couple seconds before you’re back to rehearsing answers in your head, brining your thumb towards your mouth. But Matthew catches it on the way, holding your hand gently as he brings it to rest on his thigh, fingers folded between yours.

“Say them out loud,” Matt suggests.

So the two of you sit there on the couch, rehearsing job interview questions while Matt holds both your hands. He made reassuring comments, letting you know how smart and put together you sounded. He didn’t have the most constructive criticism to give, having limited job interview experience. But having him listen was helpful enough. And when you left for your interview an hour later you made a promise to leave your nails alone and to take a deep breath before meeting with your interviewer. When you first met Matt you never would have assumed he would be be such a major part of helping you deal with your anxiety, but you were so incredibly grateful for that. Especially when you got the job, knowing it was Matt who helped you stay calm enough to get through the interview.

“Does he know that you have to fall asleep every night to Parks and Recreation playing?’

Curling into your bed you reach for the remote, turning on your TV and quickly navigating through Netflix to your recently watched category, Parks and Rec front and centre. Starting it you lay down next to Matthew, the remote landing somewhere amongst the layers of blankets on your bed. But before you even have the chance to watch any of the show you’ve rolled onto your side, away from the TV.

Matthew lays there, propped up with a few pillows with the full intention of watching the show. He stares at you with furrowed eyebrows for a second before saying anything. “I thought you wanted to watch this?”

“Hm?” You hum, glancing over your shoulder at him. “No, I told you I wanted to go to bed.”

Matthew gestures towards the TV. “Why did you put this on then?” He presses his hand into your shoulder, rolling you over onto your back so you were looking up at him.

“I need it to fall asleep to,” you tell him, giggling at how perplexed he was by the whole situation. It was the first time Matt was spending the night that wasn’t the result of you two having sex first, just spending the night because you didn’t want to be apart, even when you were just sleeping.

Matthew looks to the TV for a second before turning his head to look back down at you. “Like, just the TV or Parks and Recreation in particular.”

Laughing you roll over completely onto your stomach, arm draped over Matthew’s body as you rest your head on his chest. “Parks and Rec in particular.”

“That’s…weird,” Matthew chuckles, running his hand along your back.

“Goodnight, Matt,” you whisper, eyes fluttering shut. “Also, you’re the weird one.”

“Does he know how you take your coffee? And how it changes depending on the place you go?”

“Thank you,” you say happily as Matthew hands you a mug of freshly brewed coffee. You were curled up on the couch, working on a school assignment that was due in a few hours. You were intending to finish it the night before but Matt had texted, asking if he could come over. He promised not to distract you from it but an hour after he arrived you were sprawled on your bed, a naked mess as Matt took away all of the stress for your school work.

“I still can’t believe you drink your coffee black,” he comments, nose crinkled as he drops down onto the other side of the couch, pulling his phone out.

Laughing you bring it to your lips, taking a sip. “Not always,” you point out, eyes fixed on your laptop screen as you read through the work you had always finished.

“Extra hot vanilla latte with non-fat milk,” Matt says, not even needing a moment to think about it.

“Unless,” you begin, smiling as you glance up over the top of your laptop to where Matt was sitting.

“It’s hot out, then you get a double shot on ice from Starbucks with caramel syrup instead of classic.”

You giggle quietly, staring at Matt with a soft smile, your eyes filled with admiration. Because you couldn’t get over how much you loved him. How he remembered the little things, would go out of his way to bring you things you liked to surprise you.

“Does he know about the scar on your knee and the story of how you got it?”

You were stretched out on a patio sofa in Matt’s parent’s backyard. It was sunny and almost excruciatingly hot. You had gone back with him for a week in the summer. Of course you didn’t have an off season. You would have to go home to Calgary to continue on with your life. But for one week you were enjoying being there with him, with his family, hearing all about his childhood and thanks to his siblings, that included the embarrassing stuff. In a couple months you would be celebrating your one year anniversary and you were so content and happy with Matt.

Matt was sitting beside you, your legs stretched over his as he runs his fingers up and down your bare legs, his phone in his spare hand while you were halfway through a novel. “What’s this one from?”

Lowering your book you look at Matt over the top of it. “Hmm?” Your eyes fall to where his thumb was running over a scar along your knee. “Oh,” you comment, realizing what he was asking as you set your book to the side. “When I was ten I was playing in the forest with my best friend and her brother. We found a creek and her brother thought it would be funny to pretend to push me over the embankment into it but I actually fell and bashed my leg on one of the rocks on the way down.”

“What an asshole,” Matt comments, thumb still absentmindedly brushing over it.

“He was twelve and didn’t actually think I would fall,” you say, defending him.

“Still an asshole.”

“I still talk to him…would you like to tell him that yourself?” You joke.

“Yeah, I’ll push him down an embankment for you.”

Laughing you roll your eyes. “He’s literally the nicest guy, doesn’t deserve that.”

“He’s the nicest guy?” Matt asks, eyebrows raised.

Giggling you reach over, grabbing Matt’s hand. “You’re a close second,” you tease.

Matt shakes his head, bringing your hand to his lips and pressing them to the back of your hand. “Guess I have to step it up.”

“Does he know your favourite dessert and how to make it just right?”

“It’s so great to finally meet you, Matthew,” your grandmother says, reaching her arms up to pull Matt into a hug. Her short, small stature made the hug almost comical, like a child compared to Matt. “We’ve heard so much about you.”

“It’s really nice to meet you too. Thank you so much for having me over for dinner,” Matt replies.

It was Thanksgiving Day and you had invited Matt to your grandparent’s house for dinner. The majority of your family was going to be there and you could tell there was a bit of hesitation from Matt, nerves. But you assured him that they would all love him and he seemed to calm down at little. And how could they not love him? He made you happier than you had ever been with another person, they could all simply see it. Not to mention how you never stopped talking about Matt and how great he was.

“Of course, you’re always welcome here for dinner, holiday or not,” your grandma tells him, staring up at his face for a second, shamelessly inspecting him. “He really is as cute as you said,” she states, directing the comment at you.

“Nana,” you groan, shaking your head as you walk over and pull her into a hug. “You’re going to inflate his ego too much.”

Your grandma simply laughs, pulling back to look up at you this time. She pats your cheek gently, wide smile on her face. “Well you needed to find someone just a fraction of how beautiful you are to be able to keep up with you.”

Laughing you glance over at Matt, smiling softly. He was a lot more than a fraction of how attractive you were. But you did appreciate your grandma’s attempt at levelling out his ego again. “Do you need some help in the kitchen?” You offer, knowing that even if she were to get you to help it would be with the simplest tasks, very protective over her meals.

“No, no. You two go join everyone else in the living room. I’m quite alright in here.”

“Are you sure?” You ask again, knowing sometimes it was just her nature to take on too much. “Did you make that apple crumble you always make?”

“Yes, I’m fine,” she assures you. “And of course I did, I know it’s your favourite.”

“She’s been talking about this apple crumble for a week now,” Matt chimes in, making your grandma laugh.

“It’s really good,” you comment, double checking with your grandma once again that she didn’t need help before heading into the living room with Matt to see everyone else.

After a couple more hours of hanging out with your family, everyone getting to know Matt more than they had before, you head into the dining room for dinner. Of course everything was incredible, a ridiculous amount of food spread out on the table. But it was your grandmother’s nature, to provide so much more than was necessary and then send everyone home with enough leftovers to feed everyone for a week.

Once dinner was over you were in the kitchen, everyone helping clean up. Your grandma had finally moved to the living room, trusting everyone to at least clean up correctly. Matt had helped for awhile before disappearing sometime between packing up the the leftovers and doing the dishes. You hadn’t noticed, too preoccupied with cleaning and talking to your family, till your mom pointed out his absence.

“Trying to get out of working,” you joke, drying your hands on the towel that was hanging over the oven door handle. Walking into the living room you find Matt sitting beside your grandma, discussing something that clearly made your grandma happy, a big smile on her face, eyes twinkling. “What are you two up to?”

Matt looks over, reaching for your hand as you get closer and gently pulling you onto the couch beside him. “I’m just hearing all your embarrassing childhood stories.”

“Oh, good,” you laugh, leaning into his side, head resting on his shoulder.

“You picked a good one,” your grandma tells you and you turn your head to look up at Matt.

“I know,” you say softly, squeezing Matt’s hand.

Later that night you head home with an overwhelming sense of comfort. Matt was slowly becoming more and more a part of your life. You knew each other’s families. You were practically living together, inseparable when you neither of you were busy.

What you didn’t realize until much later was that Matt had snuck away from the rest of the family after dinner to ask your grandma if he could have the recipe for the apple crumble. Because it was your favourite and he wanted to be able to surprise you with it. So your grandma happily agreed, rattling it off out of memory while Matt made frantic notes on his phone about the ingredients and the exact way to prepare and all the tips and tricks your grandma gave him.

And when you showed up at Matt’s apartment one afternoon two months later you could smell the familiar smell immediately. You were so caught off guard by the simple act of Matt trying to do that for you that you didn’t even care that he had burnt it, just a little.

“Does he know that you have a playlist that you listen to when you’re sad?”

“Hey babe,” Matt says through the phone, voice gentle and quiet. Matt was on the road for a stretch of games. You knew it was his job, you couldn’t complain about it. But after a hard day you just wished you could be with your boyfriend. However, you hadn’t told him about your terrible day, the stress of school on top of a bad day at work. You didn’t want him to worry. And it wasn’t like you didn’t call each other all the time, but the way he was greeting you was like he somehow knew something was wrong.

“Hi,” you whisper, your eyes suddenly welling with tears.

“How was your day? Everything okay?”

“Not great,” you whisper, wiping at your eyes. “How did you know?”

“Your Spotify…I can see what my friends are listening to.”

You can’t help but laugh quietly, tuning into the song that was currently playing over the speaker in your apartment. Shelter from the Storm by Joshua Hyslop. Your playlist with the crying emoji. There was no denying it.

“Guess I need to use the private session function next time.”

“What? No. Babe, I want to know what’s going on. What’s wrong?” Matt asks, his tone very clearly worried. Exactly what you didn’t want to happen. You didn’t want to burden him with your bad days.

“It was just a bad day, it’s not a big deal. Tomorrow will be better,” you assure him, curling up further into yourself on the couch.

Matt is silent for a second, just the sound of a muffled TV playing in the background. “Why won’t you tell me?”

“Because it’s nothing major, I don’t want you to have to worry about my issues.”

“You’re my girlfriend, Y/N. I love you. I want to know when you’re having a bad day, I want to hear about it. Don’t push me away.”

Your eyes flood with tears again, slipping down your cheeks quicker now. Not even because you were that sad about your day. But because you were so overwhelmed with emotions. So grateful to have Matt in your life, so happy to have someone that you you could not just simply rely on but who wants you to rely on them, who wants to be there for you.

“Does he know that the taste of tequila reminds you of you freshman year of university and that it seems to get you drunker than any other alcohol?”

The Flames had just had a massive win, Matt scoring two goals in the game and was on another level. You had gone down to see him after the game and before you even got a word out he had his arms around your waist, lifting you off your feet and spinning around with you in his arms.

“Congratulations, bub,” you whisper into his ear, giggling as you clutch onto him.

“You’re coming for drinks with us tonight, right?” Matt asks, finally letting you plant your feet back on the ground.

“I guess,” you laugh, leaning up and pressing your lips to his for a quick, gentle kiss. But before you know it he has his hands on your hips, keeping you close as he deepens the kiss. “Matt,” you whisper, pulling back a little. “We’re in public.”

“Right,” he chuckles, pulling away a tiny bit. “I love you so much, I’m so happy you were able to come to the game tonight.”

His excitement makes you laugh, your hands sliding down his arms to clutch both his hands in yours. “I love you too and you know I’m going to be at every game I can…always.”

A few hours later you’re standing a the bar in a crowded nightclub, Matt standing behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist. Noah and Johnny were standing next to you and Matt, laughing about something that happened during the game.

The bartender stops in front of your group, asking for orders. “Four tequila shots,” Noah says, taking the reins for everyone.

Matthew chuckles from behind you as he hears the word tequila, knowing your stories about tequila in university. “Oh no.” you whine, tipping your head back onto Matt’s shoulder.

Four tequila shots are set onto the counter in front of you guys and Matt reaches over to grab one for himself, Johnny and Noah taking theirs as well. Pulling away from Matt you turn to face the little circle the four of you had made. Reaching over you go to take the shot off the bar, pulling back and then reaching for it again, repeating the process a couple more times.

“What’s she doing?” Noah asks, glancing at Matt as the three of them watch you extend your hand toward the shot before hesitating again and again.

Matt laughs, his hand still resting on your hip. “Hyping herself up.”

“I don’t want to,” you laugh, finally picking up the shot.

“Don’t turn down my gift to you,” Noah laughs and the four of you cheers before downing your shots. The liquid burns and sends a shiver through your body as you wince.

“Tastes like getting blackout drunk,” you comment, setting the tiny, empty glass back onto the counter.

And Noah doesn’t let you off the hook, buying you a few more tequila shots throughout the night. When you leave the bar that night both you and Matt are stumbling, giggling messes, climbing clumsily into the back of an Uber and ending up back at your apartment. Despite the pounding headache and vague nausea the next morning you had to admit that the night was beyond worth it.

“Does he know about your fear of parking in parkades?”

You had circled the block four times already, looking for a place to park in the busy downtown block. It was a beautiful summer day, you really should have anticipated that it would be this busy.

“Oh, let’s just park in there,” Matt suggests, pointing to the public parking parkade just down the road.

You can feel your heart speed up a little, your palms sweating at the thought of pulling into the parkade. “I’m sure we’ll find something out here.”

Matthew chuckles, glancing over at you. “Why? It clearly says there’s still like one hundred parking spots in there.”

“I just don’t want to, okay?” You snap, grip tightening on the steering wheel. You were suddenly regretting offering to drive. Typically you enjoyed driving, but now you wanted to press rewind and just get in the passenger’s seat instead.

“Woah, okay,” Matt mumbles, wide eyes focused on you, trying to figure out where your sudden outburst came from. “What’s going on?”

“I just…they just give me anxiety. They’re so cramped and dark and people come speeding around the corner and I-.”

“Pull over here,” Matt tells you, pointing towards an empty spot along the curb a few feet ahead of you.

“What? We can’t park there, it clearly says no parking.”

“We’re not parking, just pull over for a second, okay?”

Doing as he says you pull up along the curb, shifting the car into park and glancing over at Matt. But he was already getting out, jogging around the front of your car to your door. You realize what’s going on when he pulls your door open and you climb out of the car, standing in front of him. “I love you,” you blurt out.

It was the first time you said it. And the timing was terrible, standing on the side of the street parked in a no-parking space. But you meant it. He hadn’t questioned your irrational fear, hadn’t laughed or made you feel bad about it. He accepted it and found a solution without making a big deal about it.

“Does he know that you want to have three kids and a golden retriever when you get older?”

You lay on the blanket beside Matt, the empty bottle of wine laying beside you along with the remnants of your picnic dinner. His arm was behind you, your head on his bicep. The sky above you is clear and dark, speckled with bright stars. You and Matt had walked to the lookout at the park down the road from your apartment, the one you had talked about wanting to go to so many times since you moved there but never got around to. You had lived in that apartment for almost three years, it was time. He brought wine and a charcuterie board which you were incredibly impressed with, even if he bought it already made from the grocery store.

“The world is crazy,” you whisper, fiddling with Matt’s fingers, his arm draped over his stomach, hand resting on your torso.

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, like…the universe is so huge and there’s so many people on earth and like…we’re so insignificant. But we still all have all these big dreams and life plans that seem so massive and important.”

“Heavy thoughts.” Matt chuckles quietly, turning his head to the side to look at you. “What are yours?”

“What?” You whisper, turning your head to look at him, nose to nose with him now.

“Your big life plans.”

Looking back up at the stars you take a deep breath. “I want to get my degree and start a career. Get married, buy a house in a nice neighbourhood. I want to get a dog…a golden retriever. Start a family…three…I want three kids.”

“Three?” Matt chimes in, sounding surprised.

Rolling onto your side you look down at Matt, his hand falling to your waist. “You have two siblings,” you point out.

“And I didn’t have to raise us…thank god,” Matt chuckles.

“I think you could handle it,” you tell him, running your fingers along his chest. “I think you’re going to be a great dad one day.”

“Maybe,” Matt whispers, tugging you a little closer. “If it’s you I’m having kids with.”

“Should we go back to my apartment and practice?”

“Practice?” Matt asks, eyebrows furrowed.

“Making babies, we need to have it perfected for when we have to bring three of them into the world.”

Matt chuckles, sitting up with comedic speed. “I kinda thought we were already pretty good at that but not going to say no to more practice.”

“More than pretty good,” you tell him, letting him grab your hands and help you to your feet. And the two of you hurry back to your apartment like excited school kids, not once taking your hands off each other, giggling the entire way.

“Does he know that you have a secret Pinterest board full of wedding ideas?”

Laying on the couch in your living room you wait for Matt to get out of the shower. Matt still had his own apartment, living with a roommate. But he spent more nights at your house than he did at his own, a section of your closet and a few drawers of your dresser now his.

You click on a picture from the screen full of them, a beautiful wedding gown filling your screen a moment later. Tapping quickly you pin it to your wedding Pinterest board. A board that nobody knew about because a part of you was deeply embarrassed about it, about how much thought you’ve put into a future wedding.

“What’s that?”

Quickly slamming your laptop shut you whirl around to look up at Matt, his hair still damp from the shower, smelling like the cologne you loved. “You scared me, I thought you would take longer.”

“I feel like I should be suspicious of that reaction but it didn’t really look like something I should be suspicious about…Unless you have a secret fiancé you’re planning a wedding with.”

Rolling your eyes playfully you pull your knees to your chest, your laptop coming with it. “It’s nothing.”

“Was it a wedding dress?” Matt asks, plopping down onto the couch beside you.

Groaning dramatically you pivot to face the same direction as him, tossing one of your legs over his thigh as you scoot closer, opening your laptop again and facing it towards him.

“Oh, wow,” Matt mumbles under his breath as he scrolls through the Pinterest board. “This is a lot more than just a wedding dress.”

“It’s embarrassing,” you whine. “Stop scrolling,” you giggle, swatting his hand away from the keyboard.

“Is it a hint?” Matt asks, chuckling as he turns to look at you.

“What? No,” you exclaim, laughing. But it wasn’t the craziest thing he could have said. You two had been together for over two years. You were so in love with Matt, it felt impossible for you to love him more than you already did and yet everyday you seemed to fall more in love with him. “Matt, I’ve had that dumb Pinterest board since before I even met you.”

“Well at least we won’t have to spend too much time planning in the future, you’ve already figured it all out.”

“Who said I’m going to marry you?”

Matt scoffs, shaking his head as he sets your laptop aside. “We’re made for each other.“

Smiling you lean over, kissing him gently. “Yeah, we are,” you whisper.

By the time Matt finishes talking tears are streaming down your cheeks, dripping off your face and onto the blankets of your bed. “I still love you,” you blurt out before you even realize what you’re saying.

“I still love you too, Y/N. I don’t think that’ll ever change.”

“Are you in town?” You croak, wiping at your cheeks. You knew you shouldn’t be doing this. You ended things with Matt. You had a new boyfriend. Everything about this was wrong. But you were confused and sad and didn’t know what else to do.

“Yes,” Matt replies without hesitation.

“Can you come over?”

“I’ll be there in fifteen.”

Pulling yourself out of bed you pull on some pyjama shorts, going to the bathroom to brush your teeth and hair, trying to look a little presentable. Before you knew it there was knock on your door. Hurrying to it you pull the door open, glassy eyes locking with Matt’s a moment later. You can only keep your composure for a second before you have your arms around him, tears rolling down your cheeks again. Matt wraps his arms around your waist, stepping inside and letting the door fall shut behind you two. His embrace feels comfortable, it feels like home. “I missed you,” you whisper, muffled by your face being buried in the soft fabric of his hoodie.

“I missed you too, babe.” Matt replies, running his hand along your back soothingly. “What’s his name?”

And just like that reality comes crashing back to you and you slowly pull away from Matt, reluctantly taking your hands off of him. Because you knew this was all incredibly wrong. “Um…A-Adam.”

Matt nods slowly, reaching over and brushing a tear off your cheek with his thumb. “How long have you two been…together?”

“A few months…not long, it’s not serious.” You fidget with the sleeve of the sweater you had pulled on, the fabric damp from wiping at the tears that hadn’t stopped falling since your first call with Matt that morning. “What about you, have you been, uh, like, seeing anyone?” Even saying the words out loud felt like someone punched you in the stomach.

“No,” Matt admits quickly. “I’m still in love with you. I can’t.”

You feel a wash of guilt when Matt says that. Because you were still in love with Matt. You were just dragging Adam along, hoping that he would be the one to change your feelings towards Matt. You knew it wasn’t fair to him. None of this was fair to Adam. “I don’t know what to do, Matt.”

“I can’t tell you what to do,” Matt says gently.

“I need you to,” you croak, reaching up and wiping away some more tears. Your under-eyes were irritated from the fabric of your sweater, stinging and red.

“I can’t,” Matt mutters, moving towards you, hands extended to pull you into him before he stops, pausing and pulling back. “I can’t,” he repeats, this time not about telling you what to do. But about touching you, being there for you like that, crossing the boundaries when he knew you were seeing someone else.

“I wish I could take it back.”

“What?”

“Ending things with you.”

“Me too,” Matt agrees, eyes focused on you even though you could barely hold eye contact with him.

“If I end things with Adam…,” you begin, trailing off as you stare down at the ground. “Could we…”

“Figure things out from there?” Matt asks, filling in your sentence with his own thoughts.

Of course you hadn’t expected him to immediately suggest getting back together. There was a level of trust you had broken when you ended things that would need repairing. But you were willing to put in the work for that, take that risk.

“I’d like that.”

Matt smiles softly, reaching forward and pulling you into a hug. It’s careful and tentative, like he’s still worried about crossing a line despite you telling him you were going to end things with Adam. “Me too,” Matt whispers, holding you close with no indication that he was going to let go anytime soon.

#matt tkachuk #Matthew Tkachuk #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk one shot #matthew tkachuk fic #matthew tkachuk fanfic #Calgary Flames fic #hockey fanfic #Hockey Fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey one shot #Calgary Flames fanfic #nhl fanfiction #nhl fanfic #nhl imagines #nhl one shot

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midnightsnyx · 3 years

Text

a touch of honey - matthew tkachuk: part 1

summary: Looking for a change of scenery after working as a chef at a high end restaurant, you hesitantly take a job as a personal chef for Calgary Flames left winger, Matthew Tkachuk who ends up being the pickiest eater you’ve cooked for. You quickly realize you will have your work cut out for you with this job. Good thing you’re always up for a challenge.

a/n: i know, you guys are going to think what the heck??? she’s writing something other than what she’s supposed to be writing?? but this prompt came to me and i couldn’t not write it so here is it! another matty fic lol if anyone has written this before, let me know!! i don’t want to accidently copy anyone's ideas! anyways, here is part 1 of this fic! hope you like it and thanks for reading! lmk if you guys want more 🥰

word count: 1.2k

part 1

You loved your job, you really did. From the time you were old enough to understand what careers were, your dream was to become a world renowned chef and while you didn’t quite become a world renowned chef, you were certainly one of the best chefs in Calgary.

This fact begs the question as to how the hell you ended up taking a job as a private chef for an NHL player. Maybe it was because you felt the need for some scenery change and when you told a colleague that you wanted something challenging, they told you they had something in mind. You weren’t sure what exactly they had in mind but it sure as hell wasn’t this.

When they first suggested this, you were dead set against it but the more you thought about it, you realized that you’ve never really been one to back down from a challenge and besides, what could go wrong?

. . .

Plenty went wrong, you realized the first day. It all started with you sleeping in and not having enough time to properly get ready for the day. You threw on something half work appropriate - the newest pair of jeans you owned and a light blue blouse that your friend who was a personal fashion stylist and was the one who always picked out your outfits for dates and job interviews. He always did a great job and was one of the best in the industry.

You’d done some research on the player you would be cooking for but not being a hockey fan, you didn’t know much about him other than what you read online. He was apparently known as a bit of a pest on the ice and it made you wonder how he would act off the ice. You weren’t sure you wanted to deal with some obnoxious, self entitled ass for however long you kept this job. You signed a contract for six months which was the typical duration of a hockey season, not including playoffs.

So, you had to deal with him for at least an entire hockey season and if all goes well, you may sign another one next year. It entirely depended on how well you would be able to handle dealing with the chaotic schedule of a hockey player.

It was just 7 o’clock in the morning when you pull into the parking lot of Matthew Tkachuk’s apartment building and you sigh, looking up at the roof of your car ceiling silently praying that the first day will go well.

You get buzzed into his apartment building and take the elevator to his apartment floor. The walk down the hallway feels never ending and when you reach his door, you don’t even have a chance to knock before the door swings open and a cute blonde girl steps out, giggling and wearing just leggings and a shirt that clearly belongs to a man. She has her shoes on and a purse hanging over a shoulder so she is clearly leaving and the look of surprise on her face when she comes face to face with you is hilarious.

“Are you-” she starts to say but a mans voice cuts her off.

“My personal chef.”

You look over her shoulder to see Matthew Tkachuk standing there, sweatpants hanging dangerously low on his hips and his shirt missing and you have a feeling that the shirt the girl is wearing belongs to him.

“Oh!” She squeaks and offers her hand. “So nice to meet you.”

She seems genuine so you offer her a small smile and shake her hand. “Likewise.”

She grins and bounces on her toes, looking back at Matthew who is smirking.

“I should get going.” She says, “call me?”

“Of course.” Matthew replies with a sweet smile on his face that you knew probably made many girls swoon but it just annoys you.

The girls grin widens and you wonder if she realizes he most likely won’t call her. Especially if this is just a one night stand.

Not that you care, obviously.

You watch her leave before turning back to Matthew who has a smirk on his face again.

“So you’re the new one.” He says, leaning against the door and blocking you from walking into the apartment.

“Excuse me?”

He sighs and rolls his eyes dramatically. “My new personal chef. Honestly, I told them I was fine but apparently my home cooked meals aren’t up to standards for out nutritionist.”

You can’t help but scoff. “You mean the take-out and occasional microwaveable dinners you eat?”

“Ah,” he says. “I see you’ve already talked to her.”

“Yup, and I certainly have my work cut out for me.” You reply, raising an eyebrow. “So are you going to let me come inside or do I have to plan and prep your meals out here?”

He steps to the side and gestures for you to walk inside. “By all means.”

Walking inside, you let your eyes survey the apartment. It’s clean, surprisingly, and the kitchen is way too nice for somebody who doesn’t cook. It makes you want to start cooking right away but you know his fridge probably has nothing in it.

“You said, ‘you’re the new one.’… what happened to the other chefs?” You ask idly, opening his fridge to confirm your assumption. Protein drinks, orange juice, milk and beer are the only things in there. You spot a block of cheese but realize that it’s moldy.

“Apparently they decided I wasn’t worth the paycheck.”

There’s a tone of bitterness and possibly sadness under his seemingly nonchalant answer that you pick up on. You decide not to point it out though, instead you sit at the dining table and look at Matthew expectantly, gesturing for him to sit down. He sighs and flops down on the chair across from you like a disgruntled toddler. His eyes follow you as you reach into your bag and pull out a notebook and pen.

“So I want to start by making a list of things you like and don’t like to eat.” You say, dreading what his answers will be. You know it won’t be good when you see his tiny smirk and when he opens his mouth, you start to think you regret taking this job in the first place.

. . .

An hour later, you lean back in your chair and slowly place the pen on the table and start to massage your cramped hand. He looks rather pleased with himself and he copies you, leaning back in his chair and stretching. You realize that he’s still shirtless and you wonder why that didn’t distract you.

“Regretting this job already?” He questions, raising a brow and you know what answer he is expecting. You wonder how his previous chefs replied to that question and you open your mouth, prepared to answer what they all probably said, that yes they regretting taking it but something stops you and you’re not quite sure what.

Instead, you lean towards him and smirk.

“I like a challenge.”

#matthew tkachuk imagines #matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #Matthew Tkachuk #nhl imagines #hockey imagines #hockey fic #hockey fics #nhl fics

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rainingpouringetc · 3 years

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Hello,,, can you please tell me in just what happened in the coi table???? I'm really bad at listening closely in a video. It's fine if you can't. Thanks!!

lucky for you, anon, i am extremely bored and mad so i need a distraction. as such, i’m gonna do my best to transcribe it, although obviously it won’t be perfect. hope this helps :) (if you just want it broken down in simple bullet points, this was a good post for that)

[obviously this isn’t my own writing, i simply transcribed as best i could from cassie’s video]

Cassie: we open at a party. Cordelia is looking over at her brother.

Alastair looked... well, Alastair looked expressionless, or would to someone who didn’t know him. Cordelia knew by his slumped posture--he was nearly sliding down the pillar--and his tightly fisted hands that he was quite upset.

Charles: “I know you read mundane newspapers, too. I wondered if you’d noticed the recent murder in the East End. It’s the sort of thing that seems as if it shouldn’t interest us, but on closer examination...”

Cordelia stepped up to Alastair, blinking demurely. She knew people were watching. She wanted to give them no reason to talk.

Cordelia: “Charles, I believe that you agreed to stay away from my brother.”

Charles raised a superior eyebrow.

Charles: “Cordelia, dear, men have disagreements among themselves sometimes. It’s best to leave them be to sort it out.”

Cordelia looked at Alastair.

Cordelia: “Do you wish to converse with Charles?”

Alastair: “No.”

Charles flushed.

Charles: “Alastair, only a coward needs to be rescued by his little sister.”

Alastair’s expressive eyebrows flickered.

Alastair: “And only an ass puts people into situations in which they need to be rescued at all.”

Charles took a deep breath as if he were about to shout, but Cordelia moved swiftly between him and her brother. Her smile was starting to make her face ache.

Cordelia: “Charles, go away now, or I will tell everyone how your aunt and uncle must go rushing off to Paris to rescue the Clave from your blunder.”

Charles’ eyes narrowed, and somehow in that moment Cordelia saw Matthew in him. She could not imagine why. There could not have been two more different people. **If only Charles was more kind or more understanding, and perhaps Matthew would not--

Cordelia blinked. Charles had said something, undoubtedly something cutting, and stomped off. As he did, she noticed they were indeed being watched, by Thomas. He was gazing at them from across the room, seemingly arrested in midmotion. Behind him, James had rejoined his friends and was chatting with them, one hand lightly on Matthew’s shoulder.

Several things happened at once. Thomas, seeing Cordelia looking at him, blushed and turned away. The music ended and the dancers began to stream off the floor. And Grace left Toby without a word and came up to James. Matthew and Christopher were laughing together. Matthew stopped, staring as Grace said something to James, and the two of them stepped a bit apart from the others. James was shaking his head. His silver bracelet glimmered on his wrist as he gestured.

Alastair: “Want to go over and break James’ legs?”

Cordelia: “He can hardly run away screaming if Grace approaches him. He must be polite.”

Alastair: “As you were polite to Charles? Don’t take it the wrong way, Layla, I’m grateful, but you don’t need to--”

Out of the corner of her eye, Cordelia saw James break away from Grace. He came toward her; he was white as a sheet, but otherwise his Mask was firmly in place.

James: “Alastair, good to see you. Are your parents well?”

Alastair had told her she didn’t need to be polite, but politeness had its uses. James wore his manners like a suit of armor. A Suit to match his Mask.

Alastair: “Well enough. The Silent Brothers recommended my mother rest at home, given her condition. My father didn’t want to leave her.”

Some of this was doubtless true. And some of it wasn’t. Cordelia didn’t have the heart for investigation. She no longer had the heart for the party at all. James hadn’t betrayed their agreement, but it was clear that it caused him pain to be in the same room as Grace. The worst part was that she could sympathize. She knew what it was like to be near the person you loved but feel as if you were a million miles away.

Cordelia: “James, I find I have a rather desire to play chess.”

That brought a smile from James, though only a slight one.

James: “Of course. We shall depart at once.”

Alastair: “Play chess? How thrilling.”

Cordelia kissed Alastair goodbye on the cheek as James went to offer the necessary excuses to their hosts. They collected their things in silence and soon found themselves on the front steps of the Wentworths’ house, waiting for their carriage to be brought around. It was a lovely night.

Grace had watched them go, a thoughtful expression on her face. Cordelia could not help but wonder how much she concealed. It was not like her to approach James. Perhaps she had felt desperate. Cordelia could not blame her if she did.

But she could not ask James because they were not alone on the steps. Tessa and Will were there. Tessa was smiling up at Will as she tucked her hands into fur lined gloves. He went to brush her hair from her forehead. James cleared his throat loudly.

James: “Otherwise they’d start kissing. Believe me, I know.”

Tessa seemed delighted to see them. She beamed at Cordelia.

Tessa: “Don’t you look lovely! Dreadful we have to leave the party so early. Fortunately, Ms. Highsmith has offered poor Filomena the use of her carriage later, but we’re meant to Portal to Paris early tomorrow morning.”

She did not, Cordelia noted, mention Charles.

Will: “We tried to approach you inside, but were cut off by Rosamund chasing Toby around because their ice sculpture had melted. What does it mean for the youth of today that they don’t know that ice melts? What are we teaching them in the school rooms?”

James: “Is this another youth-of-today speech?”

He dropped his voice into a passable imitation of Will’s.

James: “Running about, no morals, using ridiculous words like ***barney and brinkets.”

Will: “Even I know brinkets is not a word.”

He and James bantered back and forth as the Institute’s carriage rolled around the corner and stopped at the foot of the steps, driven by a skinny footman in silver and ivory. Cordelia could not help but think how different James’ relationship with his father was from Alastair’s with Elias. She wondered sometimes what Elias would say if he knew about Alastair and Charles. She wanted to think he wouldn’t care. Months ago she would’ve been sure of it. Now she was sure of nothing.

Her reverie was broken by a sudden shout. The skinny footman had leapt to his feet, looking about wild eyed.

Footman: “Demon! Demon!”

Cordelia stared. Something that looked like a spinning wheel covered in wet, red mouths shot out from under the carriage and rolled about in a circle. She reached for Cortana and flinched, her palm stinging. Had she cut herself on it somehow? That couldn’t be possible. James laid a hand on Cordelia’s shoulder.

James: “It’s all right, there’s no need.”

Will was looking at Tessa, his blue eyes wide.

Will: “Can I...?”

Tessa smiled indulgently, as if Will had asked for a second helping of cake.

Tessa: “Oh, go ahead.”

Will made a whooping sound. As Cordelia stared in puzzlement, he leaped down the stairs and raced off, chasing the wheel demon. Tessa and James were both smiling.

Cordelia: “Should we help him?”

James: “No. That demon and my father are old friends--or, rather, old enemies, but it amounts to the same thing. He likes to chase him around after parties.”

Cordelia: “That is very peculiar. I see that I have agreed to marry into a very peculiar family.”

James: “Don’t pretend you didn’t know that already.”

Cordelia laughed. It was all so ridiculous and yet so very much the way James’ family always was. She felt as if things were almost normal again by the time their carriage came around and they clambered into it. As they rolled off into the night, they passed Will, brandishing a seraph blade as he happily chased the wheel demon through the Wentworths’ rose garden.

~end of scene~

**this sentence was spoken really fast (cassie talks a mile a minute), i’m not sure if i got it entirely correct but i think i got it pretty close

***again, i think this is what they’re saying, but it’s hard to make out

#tlh #the last hours #chain of iron #alastair carstairs #cordelia carstairs #charles fairchild #james herondale #anon

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seanfalco · 3 years

Text

Want | Priest!Kay x Reader {Part I}

Fandom: Season of the Witch Modern!AU Word Count: 2k

Warnings: None yet, other than maybe some sacrilege? (I’m not Catholic and I know this is probably not going to be everyone’s cup of tea) but there will be smut in later parts.

a/n: I got this prompt (below) & at first wasn’t sure what to do for it, until @midnightseance inspired the idea & @immortalled encouraged me to go for it lol. Thank you two for being my sounding boards 💛

Prompt: Initially I wasn’t gonna request anything because I... didn’t really have anything in mind but then I had a brain blast. I request you writing something you’ve really wanted to write but maybe have talked yourself out of. Like something you thought no one would want- like this is your sign this is your signal. I want to read it! Watching you write something your heart is fully in is one of my favorite things i’ve seen since following you. It doesn’t matter what it is I want to see it!!

Requested by: Anonymous

masterlist

You’d always thought Catholic churches were gorgeous — the architecture, the sculptures, the stained glass windows — so why did you feel this gut churning sense of dread at the sight as you approached.

“You sure I’m not gunna burst into flame as soon as we cross the threshold, like in some sort of horror movie?” you leaned in to whisper in your fiance’s ear and he scoffed.

“If that actually happened in real life, then I probably would’ve spontaneously combusted years ago,” he answered wryly, his eyes flicking to his parents on his other side.

“Right,” you muttered, taking a deep breath as you passed through the large double doors with the rest of the parishioners.

The inside was just as beautiful as the outside and you gaped at the sprawling windows, glittering colourfully as the sun hit them just right, while trying not to think about how anxious you felt. As you filed into the pew with your fiance and his parents, you could feel eyes on you from all sides as people whispered under their breath.

“Is that Matthew’s fiance? She looks rather plainer than I’d expected.”

“Is it true they’re having the ceremony here? She’s not even Catholic.”

“Well, she must be converting.”

Sinking down in the pew, you felt very out of place, and it was obvious to those around you that you were an outsider. You’d never been to a Catholic Mass before, much less any church service, really, and truth be told you weren’t really sure if you even believed or not, but this was what your fiance’s family wanted, though you knew he didn’t really care either way.

Matthew wasn’t exactly what you’d call a good Catholic boy — you’d definitely performed several cardinal sins with him already: sex before marriage, masturbation, use of contraceptives, the list goes on. But either way it wasn’t like you had much of a choice in the matter, you were joining the Catholic Church for better or for worse.

Soon the service began and you listened quietly, trying to pay attention, but amidst all the standing, sitting, and kneeling, you were getting dizzy trying to remember it all, and you tried to follow your fiance’s lead, but you were always a beat behind the rest, feeling more self conscious by the minute.

What are you doing here? you asked yourself for about the tenth time, grimacing as you quickly sat once more, glancing around hastily. It was obvious you didn’t belong, and your fiance didn’t even seem to care. In fact, he didn’t seem to be paying attention at all.

And that was when you saw him, quite possibly the last person you had expected to see.

Stepping up to the pulpit, he was dressed in black robes and a white collar, but you’d recognize him anywhere -- those wild curls, kind eyes, and breathtaking smile.

Kay.

Your Kay— no, not anymore. He’d gone to seminary school and you were marrying someone else, remember?

He was older now, and even from where you sat you could see the faint lines creasing his face, but he was still as gorgeous as you remembered him and your heart constricted for a moment as memories assailed you, overwhelming you — of awkward fumblings in the back of your car, of stumbled “I love you’s” for the first time, of —

“Hey, what’s gotten into you?”

Matthew’s voice in your ear snapped you out of your thoughts and you weren’t sure if you were grateful or annoyed.

“Huh? What do you mean?” you replied, trying to compose yourself, though you still felt like you couldn’t quite catch your breath.

“You went white as a sheet,” Matthew answered with a frown and you shook your head, your eyes returning to Kay.

“Is that your Priest?” you asked instead and your fiance glanced at you curiously.

“Yeah, he’s pretty new though, why?”

“He’s uhm, he’s just so… so young,” you whispered, stumbling over your words. “I thought priests were usually supposed to be, you know… old?”

Matthew snorted softly. “Don’t tell me you have the hots for him too.”

“What?” you hissed, glancing past him to see if his parents had overheard; they hadn’t seemed to and Matthew merely looked amused.

“Oh yeah, he’s rather popular with the other church girls, but I can’t see it,” he scoffed and your lips twitched angrily.

“I dunno, I can see the appeal,” you murmured under your breath. “I think he’s rather handsome.”

Your fiance rolled his eyes. “Sure, whatever,” he mumbled and you ignored him, turning back to the front. For a moment Kay’s gaze seemed to pass over you and he froze, his words dying on his tongue as he faltered, his eyes going wide with shock, and he hastily cleared his throat, unable to look away.

Smiling uncertainly, you met his gaze and his reaction seemed to answer the unvoiced question that had been plaguing you since he’d stepped up to the pulpit.

Clearly, he remembered you.

What were the odds that he’d be the priest here, you thought, settling back in your seat. It seemed like some sort of cruel cosmic joke, taunting you. Or maybe it’s a sign? a little voice in the back of your head whispered. Maybe, you agreed hesitantly… if you believed in that sort of thing.

——

The rest of the sermon seemed to go by much quicker, though every time Kay’s eyes passed over you he seemed to tense slightly, while your knotted stomach would give a flutter, too lost in memories you hadn’t thought of in years to remember much of the message.

So when your fiance’s mom asked you what you thought of the homily, you had to lie through your teeth, sorry God, and hope she didn’t question you further.

“Yeah, I wasn’t really paying attention either,” Matthew muttered as you filed out of the sanctuary after his parents and turned down a side hall toward the Parish office.

Shit, you thought frantically, you’d almost forgotten you were to meet with the Priest after Mass to speak about converting and beginning that process. Which meant you’d be meeting with Kay. Great.

“Ah, Father, there you are, lovely sermon,” Matthew’s mother exclaimed and you gave a start, your heart leaping into your throat as you turned to find Kay approaching.

Cool it, [y/n], you told yourself, trying to calm your pounding heart. How many years has it been? Besides, you’re getting married and he’s a fucking priest for Christ’s sake —shit, sorry, God. He chose this life over you, remember that.

“Father, this is our soon to be daughter-in-law, [y/n].”

Shit, you were being introduced, say something, [y/n].

Luckily, before you could decide whether to pretend you’d never met before or explain that you already knew each other, Kay was reaching out to shake your hand, and wordlessly you slipped your hand in his.

“How do you do?” he murmured, holding onto you a beat longer than was proper, but you didn’t exactly want to let go either.

“Good, I’m good,” you managed to stammer, his smile still doing things to your pulse.

“So, uhm, shall we step into my office?” he asked, finally letting go of your hand, almost seeming to have forgotten he was still holding it.

“Actually, we’ll be on our way. She’s in your hands now, Father,” your future in-laws exclaimed, and you waved as they exchanged a few more pleasantries before making their exit.

“Do I need to be part of this meeting too?” Matthew asked suddenly, as soon as his parents had gone and you turned to frown at him, sharp suspicion filling you, but you kept your mouth shut and swallowed it, not wanting to cause a scene in front of Kay.

“I… I suppose not,” Kay answered hesitantly, and a look of relief flashed across your fiance’s face.

“Sorry to run. I’ll see you later, hun,” he exclaimed, planting a distracted kiss to the top of your head before striding away, already pulling his phone from his pocket and you scowled after him.

“Sure, make me go through all this for you and then don’t even stick around,” you muttered under your breath as you watched him go.

“Er… shall we?” Kay prompted, holding his office door open and you gave a small jolt, shaking yourself out of your thoughts to enter the dark room, Kay reaching for the light switch as he followed.

“Have a seat,” he offered, gesturing to the set of chairs facing his desk before hanging up his robes and taking a seat as well, facing you. “[y/n],” he exclaimed, familiarity leeching into his voice now that you were alone. “To say I’m surprised to see you here would be a bit of an understatement.”

“That makes two of us,” you replied, looking around his office.

“It’s been so long,” he murmured, gazing down at his hands, “you look so —it’s uh, it’s good to see you,” he said, cutting himself off and you desperately wished you knew what he had been going to say instead.

“You look good,” you replied, offering him a hesitant smile, your eyes flicking over him. “Am I supposed to call you Father, or--? Because, I’ll be honest, that’s kinda weird,” you admitted, and Kay grimaced slightly.

“I mean technically you’re supposed to, but…” he paused to clear his throat, “—I agree, it is a little … strange,” he admitted as well and you were glad to see he hadn’t changed too much.

“Right? It’s too close to calling you ‘daddy’,” you muttered, realizing too late what you’d just said, feeling your face heat with embarrassment, as across from you, Kay had turned nearly as red as you felt, and he quickly cleared his throat, hooking his finger under his collar in discomfort.

“Let’s uhm, let’s talk about what you’ll need to do to join the Church,” he said, quickly changing the subject and you heaved a breath, thankful to ignore that awkwardness.

“Right, yeah,” you agreed. “So, what exactly do I have to do?”

Composing himself, Kay folded his hands atop his desk. “Well, usually new converts wishing to become baptized in the Catholic Church have to attend a series of classes for nearly a year—“

“A year?” you yelped, cutting him off, your eyes widening at the thought.

“—But,” Kay continued wryly, “we usually make exceptions for those marrying into the Church, letting them join on a more condensed timeline, opting for uh...private lessons,” he explained, his voice constricting at the word private.

“So… you’re saying I’ll be taking one on one lessons... with you?” you asked, chewing the inside of your lip. This sounds like a bad idea.

You were already painfully aware of the fact that you’d never truly gotten over your feelings for Kay and now you’d be spending one on one time with him on a weekly basis, all the while knowing it was only so you could enter into a marriage you didn’t truly want. Already your heart was racing and your mind was reeling with memories all clamoring for your attention.

You didn’t know if you could do this. If you should do this.

But part of you wanted to, if only to be close to him again.

“Will that… be a problem?” Kay asked slowly, as if he had to force the words out.

“No,” you answered quickly, “no, that sounds good.”

Liar.

“Are-are you sure? I mean, with our, ahh… history, I wouldn’t want —“

“I don’t want anyone else.”

At your words Kay’s eyes widened and you could practically hear his breath hitch from where you sat and for a moment neither of you spoke, the words hanging in the air like a confession and you felt your face once more grow hot.

“I mean, I don’t want anyone else for a teacher,” you amended, clutching your hands together in your lap.

I want you.

“Oh, y-yes, that’s… that’s good,” Kay murmured, taking a deep breath, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “We’ll start next week then.”

You nodded as you stood. “Sounds good to me.”

“[y/n]—“

Opening his office door, you hesitated, glancing back at him as he quickly called your name.

“Yes… Father?”

Kay swallowed thickly. “It… it truly is good to see you again.”

A small smile tugged at your lips. “Yeah, it is. Til next week, then.”

———————

Everything Tag List: @magic-multicolored-miracle @midnightseance @etherealsxnder @iamsexytrash @orions-nebula @slutforrobbiebro @super-unpredictable98 @misskittysmagicportal

#season of the witch #kay #kay x reader #priest!kay x reader #robert sheehan character fic #fic: want #my writing #priest kink tw

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readbyred · 3 years

Text

Falling asleep on them - CCRP & Beanies (+ Henry)

Relationship status: friends/mutual crushes - pre-dating

I give up with gifs, gang.

Paul Matthews

Having you lean on him (especially in public) would be weird enough for Paul but realizing that you had, in fact, fallen asleep is a whole other thing. At first, he’d call your name gently, but if you won't wake up he’ll give up, smiling even seeing you so peaceful. He is still kind of awkward about it but mostly because he doesn't want you to think of him as a creep for not waking you while you might as well not have wanted to be left laying on him like that.

Emma Perkins

During one of her angry rants she’ll notice you leaning over to rest on her shoulder but at first she took it as a intentional gesture. Only a moment later does she stop her monologue about how Nora had been treating her that day to notice that you are sound asleep. She lets out a soft laugh, immediately feeling better and just let's you get your sleep, admiring your features. However if it does get too heavy she’s not afraid to wake you and save her poor shoulder from pain.

Zoey

Being used to being affectionate at first she doesn't notice that you have fallen asleep instead of watching the movie with her. And just like Emma, she lets you stay asleep but as soon as her shoulder gets even a bit numb she’ll either try to wake you or just roll her eyes and lay you down beside her.

Nora

When you lean on her she looks over surprised only to see you dosed off, eyes closed and a peaceful look on your face. It makes her smile as she puts her hand around your back and leans you down since she could feel back pains just from looking at your sleeping position. As you are now laid across her couch she sits by reading and from time to time looking at your sleeping face.

Bill Woodward

He isn't someone to get very touchy with a person he’s not even in a relationship with and you respect that so feeling your weight drop onto his shoulder immediately allerts him to the fact that you had most likely fallen asleep and one glance at your peaceful face and parted lips confirms it. Bill is a working father, he is more than familiar with falling asleep whenever and he remembers how painful waking up could get so, as nice as having you so close feels, he decides to wake you and then as you apologize profusely he lectures you on importance of sleep and asks you to get some rest as soon as you can.

Sylvia

On one of the breaks, as she was helping you catch up on all the shenanigans you missed being out of work due to sickness, she felt you lean on her. She yelped quietly, surprised but quickly understanding what was going on she just smiled propping you up a bit not to have you fall. You must have been weak from the recent sickness still and so she said nothing, drinking her tea and waking you up only when you had to get back to work not to anger Mr. Davidson

Melissa

Just like Sylvia she also is quite surprised to find you leaning on her, sound asleep. Not wanting you to be uncomfortable with her when you wake up she decides to wake you herself, quietly calling your name and nudging you a bit. If you sleep through it she’ll get flustered but accept it as a fact that you are going to stay there for a bit and when you finish your sleep and get up on your own she apologises a lot for not being able to wake you up herself but also slips in a few concerned pleads for you to rest when you get home all while blushing intensively.

Charlotte

The second you fall onto her shoulder she just accepts it's gonna be like that for a while and wherever you two are you are staying there until you rest. If she’ll notice you sliding down or forward she’ll fix your position, flustered a bit but determined not to wake you out of worry that you might not be getting enough sleep or get mad at her for doing so (because Sam is an abusive jerk)

Ted Spankoffski

Feeling your weight fall onto his shoulder he gives you a surprised look only to find out that you are sound asleep. He’s not afraid to try and wake you, shaking you a bit even because what else could he do? If someone tells him to stop it or you just don't react he’ll give up. He never had that happen to him, he’s not someone to experience non-sexual affection all that often so he doesn't really know what to do. He’ll probably just shift to make himself more comfortable and get on his phone not really concerned if you’re comfortable, just trying to distract himself from the fact that you are laying on him

Henry Hidgens

It's easy to dose off during his extremely long rants and when you do, lying your head on his shoulder he lets out a yelp, jumping up a bit, surprised. He’s not very used to physical contact in general but surprisingly (or not so) more understanding than Ted so he just smiles and let's you stay there but makes a mental note on where his monologue ended so he can go back to it as soon as you awake. During this time he’s not very concerned with how comfortable you are, he’s not someone who's particularly concerned with what other people are feeling or experiencing. Not that he chooses to ignore them it's just that relating to other people in general is kind of hard and it's no different here although it doesn't mean he doesn't care.

#starkid #tgwdlm #tgwdlm x reader #henry hidgens #paul tgwdlm #tgwdlm emma #tgwdlm ted #melissa tgwdlm #sylvia nightmare time #tgwdlm charlotte #tgwdlm bill #preferences #tgwdlm preference #x reader #tgwdlm zoey #tgwdlm nora

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fatilightwood · 3 years

Text

Our story

You can read it on Ao3

Chapter 3

Notes: Bold letters is for the person who texts first and the other person is going to be italics.

Chapter 4: I want to see you again

When Thomas entered his apartment, he was immediately showered with questions. “So how was it?”

“Did you have fun?”

“When are you gonna see him again?”

“Why isn’t he here?”

“Are you embarrassed of us?”

All of the Merry Thieves talked at the same time. Thomas didn’t even know what to answer first. And really, it was then when he realized he hadn’t asked Alastair out on another date.

Damn it. How could he forget? Wasn’t that a question everyone asked? Well, just the ones who actually wanted to see the other person again. But Thomas was one of them. Oh, God. Would Alastair want to see him again? He would think so, they had fun, he knew that. And he kissed his cheek! But why he hadn’t said anything?

“No, I’m not embarrassed of you guys, but he had things to do, and no,” Thomas interrupted Matthew when he saw him opening his mouth “I didn’t asked him to come here, we just talked and it came up in conversation, and yes, we had fun.”

Thomas had indeed thought about inviting him but restrained himself because he knew it was too soon. And anyway Alastair had things to do and Thomas didn’t want to distract him.

“Now, weirdos, can I take two more steps? I would like to let my backpack on the couch.”

“Right.” James said.

They all retreated to their previous seats. James was reading in the table, Kit was highlighting one of his books and taking notes and Matthew ended up lying on a couch, reading some pages.

“You still didn’t tell us, when are you going to see him again?”

“Eh, I don’t know, we didn’t set a date. I’ll ask him later.”

“So, that fun, huh?” James said.

“Well, yes, he’s funny, sarcastic and smart, we’ve talked about our families and friends, careers. He’s kinda mysterious, I think. We’ll see later, if he wants, but I liked the way we talked and talked and it was like the conversation just kept going and you know, there wasn’t any uncomfortable silence.”

“Tom, he would be a fool if he didn’t want to continue knowing you.” James talked with the seriousness of a parent.

“Just let him know that we’ll have his guts for garters if he hurts you.”

“So melodramatic, Matthew.” Thomas said, rolling his eyes at his friend. “I’ll be back, what are we ordering tonight?”

Every Friday they ordered food, it was their tradition now. They also watched a movie.

“For example I wouldn’t say no to Chinese or pizza.”

“Pizza!” James and Matthew shouted.

“What?” Kit said at last. Having noted he missed the conversation while he was reading about substratum and agar he continued with the last information he heard. “Oh, I think pizza will do.” Then he returned to his book.

Thomas went to his room, he changed his clothes and laid down on the bed until he heard a little sound. Alastair had texted him.

So, the coffeehouse was amazing. And yes, you got an A.

Btw, I’m home.

You?

Hi. Yes, I’m home.

Thanks, you also proved yourself. I think I won’t ever doubt you and your notes.

Told you.

You’re just so untrusting.

Well, I can’t just go and trust everything.

What about everything I say?

I would have to know more about you but I’ll dare to say we are on a good path.

Speaking of which

Well, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of you knowing me

Would you like to go out on another date?

Can we meet some other day?

They had asked the same question at the same time. Thomas couldn’t stop grinning. He sent laughing emojis.

I’ll say yes if you also say yes

Definitely

Perfect. When are you free?

Sunday or Monday. You?

I think Monday will be great. I’m free after 5.

Well, I’ll be free after 6. And judging the time, I think we will end up at the coffeehouse again.

Would you mind if we did?

Nope. And I’ve been told by my sister that I need to bring more muffins to the apartment.

So she liked those?

That’s an understatement, and I also need to taste the iced coffee.

Then it’s settled.

Now, I hate it but I have to say goodbye, I really need to work on my essay.

Ugh. Good luck.

Meanwhile, and obviously I’m not making fun of your situation, I have an appointment with the couch cause you see, it’s movie night.

So funny, Lightwood.

Thanks for noticing

Thomas sent an emoji winking.

Seriously, good luck.

Thanks, see ya

And then, Alastair managed to make Thomas smile some more, when he sent a sticker of a hedgehog making an ‘ok’ hand gesture.

Thomas was still grinning when he came out of his room.

“Is it Perfect Eyebrows?” Matthew asked.

Thomas looked at him. “What?”

“Your date guy, he does have sharp eyebrows. I thought I’d point that out. I wonder if he shapes his eyebrows himself.”

Thomas was sure Matthew was right but that wasn’t hard to admit. Not when Alastair was so beautiful. Of course he had perfect eyebrows, and eyes, and hair, that wasn’t such a novelty.

“It was him.”

“Anyway, as much as we love seeing our ship progressing, say goodbye, because James just picked the movie.”

Thomas decided it was better to remain in silence. They had one date. Just one. He shook his head and wondered what book adaptation they were going to see.

Every week, one of them chose the movie. And the others couldn’t do much more than complain. Which they tended to do, constantly, throughout the movie. It was fun, because all of them knew it was a joke but sometimes the discussion ended in a popcorn war.

The munitions were almost ready.

“Done.” Christopher said, pouring the popcorn in a large bowl.

When they finally took their seats James pressed play, and in effect, the rest of the Merry Thieves were prepared for James’s comments about what really happened on the book.

***

“Someone’s had a good day.” Cordelia said when she arrived at the table. Alastair was still holding his phone.

“Yep, a very interesting one.” Alastair told her.

“And that’s everything you have to say?”

“What do you want me to say? Guy is handsome, kind, funny—” He stopped. “Let’s just say he is not just a pretty face.”

“Very well. I’ll take that, but I want to meet him later.”

“Easy there.”

Cordelia just winked at him and left to prepare tea.

That was easy, Alastair thought. He suspected his sister wouldn’t pressure him because she knew about his past relationships.

But he had one more to go. He opened Ari’s chat and texted her.

I’m home, alive and before you ask, yes, very surprised and happy.

Yassss, I knew it. He seemed so sweet.

You made me text you the address because ‘what if he’s a serial killer?’

One can never be sure, and you'd do the same for me. Btw, lovely place.

I know.

And, we’re going there again next Monday.

Ahhhhhhhhh

Baby, you are fast.

Alastair couldn’t help but laugh.

Oh, God

Easy.

It’s just coffee.

Whatever.

You’ll see.

They continued talking, Ariadne got some information about Thomas and seemed pretty excited about it.

Alastair just laughed. But she was right, something about Thomas made him feel hopeful, he just wasn’t ready to admit that. He’d been wrong before. Now he would just settle for taking one day at a time.

Chapter 5

#thomastair #alastair carstairs #thomas lightwood #tlh

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geniusgub · 4 years

Text

unauthorized//matthew gray gubler

based on mgg’s new unauthorized documentaries

genre: fluff

warnings: none!

word count: 3.4k

one last apology for the delay on posting these. fuck migraines!! iykyk. anyways, here it is. im really close to 200 followers and when i get there, ill be doing a preview of my new spencer fic called “north” so be ready to see that v soon! enjoy and don’t forget to give me some feedback!🖤

Getting to visit Matthew while he’s filming is a rare, yet special, occurrence. I always try to make the best of it when I get the change to head up to Vancouver, whether it be for a quick weekend or a whole week. When the final season of the show started, I did what I could to get to Vancouver for as long as I possibly could. I’d grown close to the cast, not to mention my boyfriend of six years. I wanted to make the best of this final season and make as many memories as I could, even if I’m not a member of the cast. They always joke that I’m an honorary member.

When, one night, Matthew mentioned reviving the Unauthorized Documentaries for the final season of Criminal Minds, I thought he meant it as a joke. He mentioned it so nonchalantly that I’d almost laughed. I thought he’d be too busy to worry about filming something on his own. But on his first week filming, during one of our first nightly FaceTimes, he ran a whole slew of ideas by me and I knew he was serious.

At least once a week, he would run an idea by me and would judge the quality by my quantity of laughter. I didn’t even need to comment or give my input, he’d just rattle off jokes and concepts and then either check them off or cross them out when I react. He did this every week up until this week, when he started filming.

“Do I look good?” Matthew brings my attention up from my laptop as he tugs on the lapel of his dress jacket, then holds out his hands to reveal his outfit. He’s dressed for the scenes he’s filming today, a scene with

Aubrey, so I’m not entirely sure why he’s so worried about how he’s dressed, but I’m not composing about the open request to check him out. “I’m about to go start filming the documentary with Andy,”

I drag my eyes up and down his body, my fingers stilling over the keys as I admire his figure. When I reach his eyes again, his eyebrows are raised because he can tell I’m doing more than just evaluating his outfit. I suck my bottom lip between my teeth as I nod, pushing my laptop aside and reaching my hands out for him. “You look very good, bunny,”

Matthew chuckles as I successfully grab his hands and tug him closer to me. “No, no,” he doesn’t resist as I twist my fingers in his belt loops, “I gotta go work,”

“I know,” I pout, letting go of him and sitting back in the too-comfy armchair I’m in. I’d give anything to grab him again and drag him into this chair with me. “Go film, I’ll probably be here when you get back,”

“Probably?” He picks up his script and, like the diva he is, checks his hair in the mirror and heads towards his trailer door, peeking back at me.

“I might follow you, I might stay here and keep doing the work I’ve been procrastinating,” I shrug and gesture back to my discarded laptop, flashing with a blank Google Doc, a doc that has been blank for weeks on end. Being a writer is hard and frustrating and not easy, by any means. What made me think getting a degree in writing would be a good idea? Shaking off my frustrations, I smile cutely at my boyfriend, tilting my head to the side. “Give me a kiss before you leave?”

Matthew nods and stalks back over, leaning over to peck my lips. “Whatever you write,” he whispers, warm breath fanning across my face, “will be absolutely amazing and beautiful and I’ll be honored to read it,”

“Oh, you give me too much credit,” I scoff, watching Matthew roll his eyes.

“And you don’t give yourself enough,” he responds, and then hastily checks his watch. “Okay, I’ve gotta go, but this conversation is not over. I’ll see you later. Love you,”

“Love you too. Go be funny,” I wave goodbye at him as he goes bouncing out of the trailer, closing the door behind him, leaving me to my empty Google Doc.

///

An hour later, my head is starting to hurt from staring down at a bright screen so I decide to take a break and get something to eat from catering. I haven’t heard anything from Matthew and I’m not sure what he’s up to, so I grab my phone and throw on one of his hoodies that’s a bit too big on me and head out of his trailer.

As soon as I do, though, I run right into Matthew with a pile of shoes in his hands, making them tumble to the asphalt. He curses and keeps a straight face as he tries to pick them up again. Then he sees an opportunity in me and starts to shove shoes into my hands to help him, but they’re still tumbling out. I resist the urge to laugh because I know this would ruin his bit, and I just let him silently shove Daniel’s shoes into my arms.

But then he runs off, leaving me with shoes in my arms. Without any direction or guidance from my boyfriend, I turn to Andy, who’s holding the camera, and shrug my shoulders, dropping Daniel’s shoes to the floor before walking off to my original destination- catering. Those two boys can clean up the mess they devised. I’m hungry.

Matthew finds me just twenty minutes later, taking me by surprise when he wraps his arms around my shoulders from behind, pressing kisses to my cheek. “Thanks for helping me,”

He pulls out the chair beside me and scoots as close as he can to me, our thighs touching. “I mean, I wasn’t really expecting it but it was funny. I was internally laughing,” I let my head fall onto his shoulder, feeling his arm snake around my waist. I peer up at him, feeling my pupils dilating into hearts at the sight of my stunning boyfriend. I’ll never stop being floored by his eyes and his jawline and his dimples and his lips and his smile and how fucking beautiful he is. “I liked that idea from the beginning.”

“I know you did,” he quips, not-so-sneakily swiping a chip from my plate and popping it into his mouth. “Maybe you’ll appear in another episode. Who knows?”

I don’t see Matthew until the end of the day because he’s busy doing his job, as he should be. I spend my day writing in his trailer and filling up my previously empty Google Doc. When the cast has a long break, Matthew comes in to film a scene that I recognize as the ending to the second episode. He’s sitting at his open trailer door, supposedly watching videos of Daniel modeling. He’d only waved at me when he came in, not wanting to bother my work. I wish he would distract me more. Maybe I’d take action on my fantasy of melting into this armchair with him.

His exaggerated and focused facial expression is enough to make me suppress a giggle, but then I spot a baby girl hat from Shemar on the counter and a light bulb starts floating over my head.

“Psst,” I hiss, and Matthew looks up at me, his eyebrows raised. I hold up the hat to him, and his eyes light up with a childlike excitement. He holds up his hands and I toss the hat to him, and as soon as he puts it on, I let out the laugh I’ve been holding in. “Perfect, you look perfect, baby,” Matthew winks at me and then gives a thumbs up to Andy, putting on his exaggerated face yet again and staring down at his phone. I tuck my face in my laptop so I don’t laugh again, typing diligently.

The next day is when I’m, yet again, roped into Matthew’s documentary. I don’t mind though. His ideas are hilarious and they never fail to make me laugh.

I sit in Matthew’s trailer for an hour without him, staring at a blinking cursor. I don’t write a single word and I know that sitting in the same spot won’t make inspiration suddenly strike. I decide to change my scene up and bring my laptop to catering. I grab a snack and take a seat at an empty table, crossing my legs under me, beginning to mull over combinations of words and debate definitions of words. It’d been relatively quiet in catering for a while, but it all comes to an end when Matthew comes marching up to me.

“Hi, babe,” he says sweetly, a bit too sweetly, pulling out the chair next to me and taking a seat. Like yesterday, I give him a confused look, and when he gives me the same adorable smile that he always does, my heart practically melts. The ways this man makes me fall so easily. I’ll never understand.

“Hi, there,” I respond, and then glance up at Andy holding the camera. “Can I help you?”

“Could you possibly google something for me?” Matthew says and directs his attention to my laptop. The way he’s not giving me any type of attention or physical affection let’s me know that he really is filming his documentary again, so I play into it again. What do I have to lose? I’m not writing anyway.

“Yeah, sure,” I switch to Chrome and pull up Google. “What is it?”

“Could you search Daniel Henry?” Matthew keeps a straight face and it’s moments like this that remind me how great of an actor he is. Who can keep a straight face while regurgitating an incorrect name?

I turn my head to him, biting my lip to hold back my laugh. “Henry?”

Matthew nods. “Yeah, I know, it sounds like a girl's name. I thought it was a girls name at first. Daniel,” He repeats it as if that clarifies anything at all. I just narrow my eyes at him again, and when I don’t search the obviously incorrect name that he’s giving me, he sits back in his chair, finally looking at me again with his eyes narrowed. “Do you-“ he lets out a breath, crossing his arms over his chest, “do you think there’s any chance he could be taller than me?”

“Okay, we can stop there,” Andy cuts us off, dropping the camera from focus.

“I think you missed your calling in life, love,” Matthew chuckles, pulling me into his arms, attacking my face with kisses. “I’m sorry to spring that on you, but-“

“No, it’s fine. I wasn’t really getting anywhere anyway. If you need help with anything else, you know I’m around for the rest of the week.”

Surely, he cashed in on that offer. It was accidental. It was my fault, really. I was just trying to get back to Matthew’s trailer the next day after having lunch with Kirsten and Daniel, to which Matthew jokingly called me a traitor. I heard Matthew’s loud voice from all the way down the hallway and I should have turned and left, but I didn’t.

So, iced coffee in hand, I stroll down the hallway and when I make it to the clearing, I stop in my tracks. Now, you’d think that after being with this man for five years and living with him, nothing would surprise me anymore. But he still has his moments, and this is definitely one of them. He has these wooden boxes and he’s got a roll of packing tape, and he’s taping the boxes to his feet. Maybe this shouldn’t surprise me, because he’s told me about this idea of his, but seeing him actually doing it with my own eyes is a whole different thing.

It only takes him a moment to notice my presence, and when he does, he waves me over. “Babe, babe, hey babe, babe, babe,” he says quickly, waving his hand quickly, holding the wooden box against his foot. “Come help me,”

Keeping up the same attitude I’ve had in the past, I let out a dramatic sigh and drag myself over to him, sitting down on the floor and putting my coffee on the floor. But the moment I do, Matthew snatches it up and starts drinking it as I grab the dangling packing tape. Gosh, if he actually acted like this, I’d have broken up with him forever ago.

I wrap the tape around his foot and the box and then around his ankle, making sure to not make it too tight so that I hurt him. He’s still sipping my coffee and staring into the camera like some cocky asshole when I move onto the other foot, and then I eventually run out of tape.

I sit back on my heels and look up at him. “I’m out,” Wow, this position we’re in right now? If Matthew didn’t have wooden boxes strapped to his feet and we weren’t in the middle of the Criminal Minds offices, I’d probably be reaching for his belt. But I can’t let my mind go there or else we’ll be hooking up in a bathroom or his trailer, and that never ends well for anyone.

“Okay,” he mumbles, and I watch in amusement for way too long as he struggles to get up to his feet. I don’t even help him, I just sit back and giggle. “Here, you can have this back,” he holds my coffee out to me, and just as soon as I reach for it, he pulls it back. “Wait,” he takes a long sip, “okay here.” I finally grab my coffee again and then move to lean against the wall, watching him struggle to take the first few steps with boxes taped to his feet.

He hobbles down the hallway, all the way to BJ and proceeds to ask her to paint the boxes like shoes. And once he gets the shot he wants of this scene, Andy wanders off and he comes wobbling back to me with a cute, dumb smile on his face. “Will you help me get these off?”

I nod, sitting down on the floor again to pull off the tape around his feet. “Honestly, I’m surprised you didn’t trip and fall on your face,”

“Me too,” he laughs, sighing with relief when I take the first box off and set it aside. “But hey, this is my last break and then I’m gonna be working late today. I don’t know if it’s worth it to stick around set. I’m not gonna be able to come see you or anything,”

“Maybe I’ll go back to your house. I can make some dinner instead of ordering out,” I pull off the last bit of tape and then swiftly reach up to press it against Matthew’s cheek, watching it hang there limply.

He gives me a deadpan look as I devolve into giggles, falling over his lap and holding onto his misplaced elbow pads to hold me up. “Ha ha, very funny. I’m laughing so much. That was so funny,” His voice is void of any humor as he holds my shaking body from hitting the carpeted floor.

“I know, I’m just so funny,” I quip, pulling myself together enough to crane my neck and kiss his cheek. “But I am probably gonna go back to your house. Sounds like a good idea,”

“Okay, just let me know when you get there,” Matthew pats my thigh and signals me to get up, and once we’re on our feet again, he moves the wooden boxes aside. “I might not respond but-“

“Text you so you know I’m safe. I’ve got it,” I finish for him, fixing the lapel of his jacket. I push my pointer finger against the tip of his nose, making him scrunch it up in the insanely adorable way he does. The sight brings a smile to my face and it makes my heart beat faster. “I’ll see you later, okay? Go be brilliant.”

///

The sound of the front door opening lifts my head, taking my attention away from the glass of wine in my hand and the laptop in front of me, yet again. I glance at the timer on the oven and then jump to my feet, padding towards the foyer.

Matthew is dropping his backpack by the door when I get to him, and pauses halfway through reaching for his jacket. “Hi, love bug,” he murmurs, giving me a weak smile.

I grab Matthew’s jacket for him and slide it off his shoulders. “Hi, bunny,” When I turn to hang the teddy bear jacket on the coat rack, I feel his hands on my waist, drawing me closer to him. He successfully pulls me against his chest, lips leaving a trail against my shoulder. “Long day, huh?”

“Yeah,” he whispers, voice wavering as he tucks his face into my neck, “long, and repetitive, and tiring, and I’m very hungry and I smell food,”

I turn myself around in Matthew’s arms and face him, placing my hands on his cheeks. “I got pizza dough on my way home and I made homemade pizza. It’s in the oven and it’ll be done in about ten minutes. And I poured you a glass of wine too,”

Matthew’s eyes flutter closed and he presses his forehead against mine. “You’re an angel. You’re a goddamn angel, sent from heaven to bless me with your presence,”

“Oh, stop,” I laugh, patting his cheek gently. “Let’s just get wine drunk and eat pizza and watch movies all night. You don’t have work tomorrow and I’m tired of looking at my damn laptop,”

“You make us sound like two teenage girls,” Matthew unwinds from my embrace and wanders into the kitchen, swiping the full glass of wine from the counter. He takes a sip and then pecks my lips again, and I revel in the sweetness of his lips.

Matthew sits at the counter, right in front of my laptop, taking another long gulp of his wine. I check on the pizza, just to make sure it’s not burnt, but when Matthew is silent for too long, I look back to make sure he’s okay. Sometimes when he has a hard or long day at work, he tends to shut down and not open up to me, and I don’t want that to happen. But when I turn to check up on him, I find him leaning into my laptop, his eyes darting across the screen.

I gasp, stepping forward and slamming my laptop shut, ripping it away. “Hey! You know I don’t like it when you read my work before it’s edited and finished,”

Matthew pouts, hiding his face behind his wine. “Sorry, I just- well, you’ve been talking about it so much and it was right here and I wanted to see how it was going,” I go into the other room and put my laptop into my bag, out of sight and out of mind. When I return to the kitchen, Matthew is pulling the pizza out of the oven just as the timer goes off. “If it means anything, of what I did read, it was really good. I only got through the first two paragraphs, but I really loved it.”

“Well, thanks,” I mumble, going onto my toes to kiss his cheek before grabbing the pizza cutter. “I’m not mad, I just-“

“I get it. You don’t let me read your writing until it’s done and I don’t let you see anything I’ve filmed until it’s done,”

“Oh, so, I can’t see any of the documentary until it’s done?”

“Maybe I’ll make an exception for that,” he quips, grabbing the pizza cutter from me and digging it into the hot pizza crust. “I don’t trust you with this thing anymore. Not after you ended up in the hospital last year with Sandy,” he turns to me with a pointed look.

“It was an accident and you know it!”

“Oh, really?” He guffaws, tossing the pizza cutter aside and reaching for my waist. But I dodge him, taking a step back. He accepts this as his challenge, reaching for me again, and when I dodge him one more time with a confident smirk, a playful fire ignites behind his eyes. “Fuck the pizza. I’m coming for you.”

#matthew gray gubler #matthew gray gubler x oc #matthew gubler #spencer reid #dr spencer reid #matthew gray gubler fanfiction #matthew gray gubler fic #nikos writing #matthew gray gubler one shot

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davidpastrsnack · 4 years

Text

three times brady stayed quiet, one time he didn’t - brady tkachuk

a/n: i have such a soft spot for brady and this is the result. some really soft friends to lovers, but i also left the possibility for a smuttier part 2 if you guys are interested. i hope you enjoy (especially my fellow brady girls) and please let me know what you think!

word count: 5618

one

After just barely getting through your final assignments of the last grueling week of school, it was finally time for the best part of the year: summer with the Tkachuks. Your dad grew up with Keith outside of Boston, the two maintaining a close relationship despite the distance that kept them apart for so long. For as long as you could remember, you and your siblings had spent the majority of the summer months with them, either on the lakes of Missouri or the oceans of Cape Cod.

The busy hum of voices and speakers was all you heard, your tired body dragging through the airport, iced coffee in hand hoping it would give you even just another ounce of energy. You finally reached your gate, sitting down on the cool leather seat to wait for your boarding call.

Your siblings were already in St. Louis, having finished school before you, and you were the last one to arrive before the commencing weekend of the summer. You knew you were in for a wild ride if the Snapchat stories of your older brother and Matthew getting up to no good were any indication.

Just as you adjusted your headphones and felt your eyelids flutter shut, your phone buzzed, pulling you from your daze.

Brady: I got held up here for another day, but should be there tomorrow

Brady: Don’t miss me too much

You rolled your eyes at the screen, laughing as you saw his words and your brain automatically translated them into his voice. You considered all of the Tkachuks to be like family, but Brady was different, he always had been. Since day one he was constantly looking out for you, even more so than Matthew and your brother. He always had an eye on you, that eye becoming more and more threatening to everyone else as he grew into his now 6’4”, 200lbs frame.

Don’t worry, I’ll have Matthew to keep me company :)

You smiled as you typed out your response, throwing back exactly what he had dished out. You couldn’t deny that your relationship had become more flirtatious over the recent years, but you always assumed it was just the teasing nature of the Tkachuk household. If he was going to chirp you, you were going to chirp right back. But the banter had always flowed seamlessly, both of you knowing the other so well. You weren’t always clear on the motivation behind some of his comments, but it didn’t hurt to have a little fun with him.

You finally boarded the plane, your flight not taking long before you were stepping out in the thick Missouri air. To say you were exhausted was an understatement, your eyes barely staying open as you searched for the black Audi you knew would be arriving any minutes. Just a few moments later you saw the luxury sedan turn the corner, a brown mop of curls sitting behind the wheel.

“There she is,” Matthew yelled, pulling you in for a hug after stepping out of the front seat.

“Hi Matthew,” you hummed, “Thanks for getting me.”

“Of course, Y/N, anything for my future sister-in-law,” he teased, that cocky smirk on full display while he grabbed your suitcase.

You didn’t even acknowledge his comment, moving right along to get in the car and ask him how his season was. You were far from a stranger to his jokes, but you were not in the mood today and he seemed to pick up on it. So he gave it up for the ride, instead catching up on how you were doing otherwise since he had last seen you. All jokes aside, Matthew truly cared for you like family, especially considering he was dead serious about you eventually being his sister-in-law.

After stopping for food on the way, you finally arrived at the house, Matthew pulling into the lit driveway as you took off your seatbelt. Chantal was waiting by the front door, immediately giving you a tight hug when you walked in. She was basically your second mother, always taking care of you as if you were one of her own.

“Y/N! How are you, sweetie?” she exclaimed, urging you to follow her into the kitchen.

“I’m good,” you responded while sitting down at the counter next to Matthew.

“She’s exhausted mom,” Matthew deadpanned before you could continue.

You rolled your eyes at his words, a smile growing on your lips as you quickly fell back into the comfort of this home.

“I’m okay, really,” you assured Chantal.

“Oh honey, come on,” she grabbed your backpack and gestured for you to follow her upstairs. “All of the guestrooms are full right now with Matthew’s friends but they’re leaving tonight. Just go ahead into Brady’s room, I’m sure he told you he’s still in Ottawa until tomorrow.”

You nodded, “Yeah, he did.”

She led you down the hall, as if you didn’t know exactly where you were going, and opened the door to his room. The same hockey memorabilia was scattered across the walls and the closet was slightly open, the clothes he left here during the season poking out.

“Just relax in here, sweetie. The sheets are clean and there are towels in the bathroom. I’ll check in with you in a little bit, okay?”

“Thank you so much,” you smiled, pulling her in for another hug before she headed back downstairs.

No matter how much time you had spent in this room, something about being in there without Brady felt wrong. But the exhaustion of the travel day and the past week didn’t let you think about it too much, instead telling you to go take a shower and change into fresh clothes. You didn’t mean for it to happen, but the second you laid across the bed you were down for the count.

-----

When Brady opened his door after arriving home the next morning, his jaw nearly hit the floor. Chantal told him that you were in there, but there was no preparing himself for the sight in front of him. You were still fast asleep, but the covers were mostly thrown off your body. He smiled to himself as he remembered that you always get too hot while you sleep. The oversized t-shirt you were wearing was bunched at your waist, your tiny sleep shorts riding up your hips giving him the perfect view of your ass. Your head was nuzzled into his pillow, your hands resting in front of you as if you should be holding someone and your lips pouted as you slept. He had seen you asleep countless times before, but something about you being in his bed waiting for him like this was taking his breath away today. He thought about what it would be like if things were different. He could slide under the covers behind you, slip his rough hands around the soft skin of your waist, kiss your collarbone and neck as you giggled in his grasp, moving one of his hands lower and lower until-

“Fuck,” he mumbled, losing grip of his phone as he was distracted by his awe of you, the metal slipping out of his hand and falling against the hardwood floor. He scrambled to grab it without dropping his bags or waking you up. But it was too late, your sleeping frame stirred at the sudden noise, lifting your head to see what it was.

“Brady?” you questioned, your voice laced with sleep and your eyes squinting as they adjusted to the morning light pouring through the windows.

“Yeah, it’s me. Sorry I just- mom told me you were in here,” he spoke, afraid it looked like he had just been staring at you, which of course he had been.

“Don’t be sorry Brades, it’s your room,” you laughed as you sat up, adjusting your shirt when you realized how exposed you were.

He laughed too, trying to shake off whatever awkwardness had infected him this morning and not let his eyes trail down your frame.

“Are you going to stand there all day or are you going to come give me a hug?” you grinned.

Brady shook his head smiling as he made his way towards you, sitting on the edge of the mattress and pulling you in. His body relaxed as you wrapped yourself around him, your touch and scent overwhelming his senses.

You could feel the tension leaving his shoulders as your hands traced the curls at the base of his neck, “You okay?” you whispered.

He pulled back at your words, piercing blue eyes meeting yours. “I’m fine,” he paused, wondering if he should come clean about everything right now. But he decided it wasn’t worth freaking you out on day one of the summer, “I just missed you, that’s all.”

A soft smile crept on your lips, hearing him say that he missed you as much as you missed him warming your heart.

“Come on, I’m hungry,” you said as you grabbed his hand, a playful scoff leaving his mouth as he trailed behind you towards the stairs, the energy between the two of you starting to return to normal.

two

After everyone had finally arrived and settled in, it was time for the first house party of the season. The mere thought of this moment had given you the motivation to finish your exams, so it went without saying that you could not be more excited. Keith and Chantal were out of town for the weekend, putting Matthew in charge of making sure everyone stayed safe. You were finishing getting ready in one of the guest rooms, which you had almost moved into for the summer after the one night in Brady’s. You went for a simple outfit, a white top with jeans and sneakers before heading downstairs to join the growing crowd.

You were surrounded by faces as soon as you made your way down, some familiar and some not. Your eyes scanned the room for your friends, knowing your close friend Emily had already arrived. You finally found her standing in one of the corners and you turned to go meet them.

“Long time no see,” you beamed when you arrived at their circle, the girls jumping to hug you as they saw you for the first time since last August. It was great to catch up with everyone, but you quickly realized that you forgot to get a drink.

“Em, I’m gonna go grab a drink,” you spoke to which she nodded.

“I’ll come with,” she urged, reaching for your hand as you both walked towards the kitchen.

“So you look hot tonight,” she grinned, speaking in your ear so you could hear over the music. “I bet he finally makes his move later.”

“Who?” you challenged, but she didn’t need to say another word for you to know who she was talking about.

“Y/N, please just save it,” Emily rolled her eyes, “Look, he’s already drooling over you,” she gestured towards where Brady was sitting around a table with Matthew and some of their old friends from hockey. She was right, he was looking right at you, waving when you made eye contact. You gave a small wave back before quickly turning your body away from him to face Emily.

“He always watches me at parties,” you reasoned.

“Yeah, because he’s in love with you,” she scoffed, pouring two drinks into red solo cups.

“Because he’s a good guy, Emily,” you rebutted before taking a far too large sip of whatever she made.

Meanwhile, across the room, Brady was facing the same kind of comments from his friends. As soon as he saw you cross the room with Emily he couldn’t peel his eyes away. You were practically glowing, your smile wide as the stress from the school year finally seemed to disappear from your mind.

“Really Tkachuk?” he heard from next to him, his head snapping away from you to look at the voice.

“What?” he questioned, his challenge laced with attitude.

“Y/N? Still?” his friend Jack responded.

Brady just shook his head in annoyance. He didn’t have the energy for this conversation tonight.

“As long as the sky is blue, Brady will be falling at the feet of Y/N,” Matthew chimed in, a smirk gracing his lips as he hid behind his solo cup.

Brady maintained his silence, hoping they would get bored and move on, but not so fast.

“So you aren’t hitting it?”

He thought he was mad before, but nothing compared to the pure anger Brady felt at this comment. It was Nick, a kid he had never liked through all the years they played together in St. Louis. He was fuming, Matthew swore he could see smoke coming out of his ears as he waited for his brother's response, getting ready to step in if necessary.

“Are you fucking kidding me, Nick?” Brady started, turning his body towards him and sitting up straight. “Am I hitting it? You’re talking about my childhood best friend, show some fucking respect.”

Nick looked stunned, his eyes wide as Brady glared at him. “Dude, I-,”

“Don’t,” he interrupted, moving to stand up so he towered over him. “You wanna know why no girl will ever come within ten feet of you? It’s because of shit like this, Nick. You’re a complete asshole and you don’t deserve a thing from any woman,” he scolded.

By this point, Brady had drawn the attention of many, nearly all of the guests staring at the commotion, including you.

Your face dropped as you saw him yelling, concern written all over your face as your brows furrowed in his direction. He finally seemed to calm down, his eyes looking defeated as they locked with yours. With one more look at Nick, he shook his head in disgust before walking towards the back of the house, the door slamming shut behind him.

The room was nearly silent, everyone looking at each other to see if they knew what just happened.

“Everything’s fine guys,” Matthew urged, the party resuming at his words. Your eyes met his and before you could even make it over to ask what that was he was gesturing towards the door for you to follow Brady.

You nodded, discarding your drink on the counter and rushing to him. You slowly opened the backdoor, searching for his blond curls. You quickly found him alone on the patio, sitting on the outdoor couch with his head thrown back against the cushion, and his eyes closed.

“Brady?” you whispered.

His eyes shot open at your voice, “Fuck,” he mumbled under his breath. Even though he knew it was impossible, part of him was hoping you didn’t see that.

You didn’t say anything but rather moved towards him, stepping over his legs so you could sit next to him. He stayed silent, just swinging his arm around your shoulders and tugging you into his frame. You sighed as your head rested against his chest, waiting for him to talk when he was ready.

After almost ten minutes, Brady finally spoke, “Nick is an asshole,” he muttered.

You couldn’t help but let out a small giggle at his words, lifting your head to look at him, but he was still staring straight ahead. He didn’t know if he could keep it together if his eyes met yours.

“Brady,” you muttered, “What happened?”

“He just said something I didn’t like.”

“Come on, Brades,” you pleaded, hoping he would finally give in and tell you what happened.

But instead, he shook his head, “I don’t want to talk about it, okay?” he snapped, instantly regretting his reaction when he felt your body flinch at his tone. He sighed, letting out a breath it felt like he had been holding for hours, “I’m sorry, Y/N. I just-”

“It’s okay,” you whispered. You had no idea what was going on with him, but regardless, it was clear that he needed you. You laid your head back down on his shoulder, smiling to yourself as you felt him press a kiss to the top of your hair.

three

It had felt like forever since you had been on a proper date, the college lifestyle not always being conducive to it. But now here you were, getting ready to go out to dinner with the guy next door, Tommy. The two of you had been friendly for years, getting to know him more and more with each summer you spent with the Tkachuks. You definitely were surprised when he asked you out, but you didn’t see the harm in taking him up on his offer.

And to be completely honest, part of you was getting frustrated at your situation with Brady. It was a cycle that started over each summer. You entered June denying that there was even a hint of anything more than friendship, but by July you were sucked right back under his spell, until August came and you were ripped apart from each other yet again. Clearly nothing was different about this year, so it was time you tried to move on and enjoy your summer in, well, other ways.

You slipped into a dress, casual but still cute, and tied your white sneakers. You walked over to your window to see both Matthew and Brady’s cars sitting in the driveway. Great, you thought. This would be much more painless if they weren’t home, but of course, the world was not on your side. You did one last hair and makeup check before grabbing your bag and heading down the stairs, feigning total confidence as you grew closer to the boys.

They were laying across the couch playing video games, both of their eyes darting straight to you as you tried to sneak out the front door.

“It’s rude not to say goodbye,” you heard Matthew yell from behind you.

“Fuck,” you silently mouthed, turning to move into the living room where they sat.

“Sorry, I didn’t see you guys there!” you lied through your teeth.

Matthew’s face scrunched up at your excuse, knowing there was no possible way you didn’t see them.

“Where are you going?” Brady asked, his voice much softer than his brothers, almost like he knew what he was about to hear.

“Um, I’m going to dinner with Tommy,” you said, trailing off at the end as the awkwardness set in the room.

No matter how much you tried to deny it, you saw the way Brady’s face fell at your words. The guilt suddenly hit you like a truck, but then again it wasn’t like he was doing anything to change the status of your relationship.

“Tommy?” Matthew questioned, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Yeah,” you stalled, “I don’t know, he asked me and I said yes.”

“Interesting,” he muttered, looking at his younger brother who was pretending to be enthralled in the game.

“Alright well, I’ll see you guys later,” you said, standing as you waited for Brady’s response, but it never came.

Matthew sensed the obvious tension, doing whatever he could to break it, “Have fun Y/N, but not too much,” he teased.

You rolled your eyes, finally moving to open the door, not at all minding that it slammed behind you.

As soon as you were out the door, Matthew pulled the controller out of Brady’s hand. He couldn’t watch this anymore.

“What the fuck, Matt?” he shouted, his emotions high after watching you leave.

“No, I should be asking you that,” he threw back. “What the fuck are you two doing?”

Brady sighed, running his hands over his face before holding his heavy head in his palms. He didn’t know what he was doing. For so many years he was terrified of telling you how he felt. If you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, he didn’t know if your friendship could ever recover and he was not taking that risk. But this year it was all too much, you were perfect for each other and everyone around you knew it too. How could he blame you for trying to find someone else when he couldn’t even muster up the courage to tell you the truth?

“I don’t know, Matt,” he started, his words muffled by his hands, tears prickling the back of his eyes.

Despite teasing him about you for so long, Matthew’s heart broke as he saw his brother in so much distress over this.

“Just tell her. I promise you it will work out,” he encouraged, placing a comforting hand on Brady’s shoulder. “Anyone with eyes can tell that you two are made for each other. It’s gross, actually.”

Brady let out a laugh at Matthew’s chirp, finally picking his head up, “But now I have Tommy to worry about.”

Matthew scoffed, laughing as he spoke, “Yeah, because Y/N really seems like the type to throw away her entire relationship with you over one date with Tommy, of all people.”

-----

Your night was going well, but you just couldn’t shake the look on Brady’s face from your mind; he was hurt.

Tommy was sweet, making you laugh throughout dinner, but you knew you had no intention of seeing him, like this, again. After leaving the restaurant, he suggested you got ice cream and walked around the city, to which you agreed. You felt bad for leading him on, but part of you was dreading arriving back to the house. You were sitting on a bench taking in the view of the city and talking about plans for the year when you felt him shift his body closer to yours. His intentions were clear, and your heart dropped at the realization that you were going to have to let him down much earlier than anticipated.

Just as you were trying to find the right words to tell him, he placed his hand high on your thigh and he leaned in to kiss you. You immediately flinched, pulling your face far away from his.

“Tommy, I- I’m sorry,” you whispered.

A dark chuckle came out of his mouth and you could feel the energy change, the air growing thick with tension.

“Seriously?”

His much larger frame than yours suddenly became quite intimidating as he leaned over you, clearly not taking the rejection well.

“I’m sorry,” you continued, “I just don’t think this is going to happen.”

“Unbelievable,” he shook his head at you, your body pushing back into the bench in an attempt to get as far away from him as possible. “This is about Tkachuk, isn’t it? I should have known you would only be interested in the fame and money,” he mumbled with another laugh.

His words slapped you across the face, your eyes burning as you felt the tears try to push their way out. In all the years you had known him, you never had the slightest idea that Tommy had such a cruel side to him.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” you rebutted, “Get away from me, Tommy.”

“No problem, darling,” he smiled, standing up and walking away, leaving you stranded on the street downtown.

Your head fell into your hands, the cold evening breeze riding under your dress. Your mind instantly started listing all the reasons why this was your fault, but deep down you knew it wasn’t. After sitting there in defeat for a few moments, you finally pulled out your phone, dialing the only number that ever mattered.

It seemed like hours later when you finally saw the black SUV pull up on the street in front of you. Before you could even stand up, Brady was running out of the car towards you. Your emotions got the best of you once he was by your side, your body collapsing into his as the tears fell.

“What the hell did he do?” he questioned while rocking you back and forth in his arms.

You couldn’t find the words to answer.

“Y/N, you��re freezing,” he spoke as he felt your cool skin against his, “Come on,” he urged, grasping your hand to guide you to the car.

Once you were inside the warm car, he reached into the back seat to find a sweatshirt, handing you the soft material.

“Thank you,” you whisper, scared your voice would betray you as you slipped the fabric over your head, the scent of his cologne comforting you right away.

“I’m gonna kill him,” Brady hissed, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel.

“No, you’re not Brady,” you warned, “I had a good night until I didn’t. We just had different ideas of how it was going to end,” you scoffed, a sarcastic laugh slipping through your lips.

Brady shook his head, pausing to glance over at you while he was stopped at a light. You were resting against the cool glass, his sweatshirt pooling around your hips, the fabric of your dress peeking from beneath it. The light finally turned, your face now illuminated in green and he only had one thought.

He would never treat you like that.

plus one

Despite his conversation with Matthew, Brady still had yet to say anything to you. You assured him time after time that you were okay after Tommy, but he didn’t want his confession to seem reactionary. You deserved more than that.

The plan tonight was for everyone to go out to one of the hotspots in town, but you weren’t feeling it. Everything that happened the night before had you even more consumed with your thoughts about Brady, and you needed a night of just nothing. The voices from downstairs carried while the boys were getting ready to leave, their laughter making you smile as you walked into the kitchen. They were so wound up all year long and it was refreshing to see them truly relaxing.

You drew their attention right away as you entered the room, their brows furrowed in confusion as they took in the sweats you were wearing.

“Y/N!” one of them howled, “We’re going soon, hurry up!”

You laughed as you turned to face him, the voice belonging to Jack.

“I’m not going Jack,” you explained, opening the fridge to look for something to satisfy your late-night craving.

“But you have to come, you’re so fun,” he whined.

“I promise I won’t be that fun tonight. Just go enjoy yourselves, I’ll be here waiting to make sure you all get back in the house alive,” you jested.

“I’ll stay,” you heard from behind you. You didn’t even have to look to know who it was.

You finally rotated your body, meeting his gaze right away. He looked good. His black jeans hugged his thighs perfect, the matching black t-shirt fitting around his biceps like a glove. He towered over your, those bright blue eyes piercing into yours. He was close enough for you to take in his cologne, the scent immediately clouding your senses.

“I’m fine, Brady,” you reasoned, shaking yourself out of your daze, “Seriously, go.”

He didn’t speak right away, instead he gave you a knowing look. You gave him the same look right back, challenging him to go against you.

“Matt,” he called, not breaking eye contact, “I’m gonna stay.”

You rolled your eyes at his stubbornness but you were just thankful that you had a reason to look away, praying that the heat you were feeling hadn’t made its way onto your cheeks.

“Alright,” Matthew responded, not even bothering to question the two of you at this point.

The boys flooded the front door, all yelling goodbye before they piled into the Ubers waiting outside. A heavy silence fell over the house, your body leaning against the kitchen counter as you waited for Brady to say something.

“I’m just gonna change,” he spoke, gesturing to the staircase. “Put a movie on, yeah?”

“Yeah,” you nodded, your voice barely above a whisper.

Just a few minutes later he returned, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. You were laying across the couch, the movie already playing as he sat down next to you.

“Cold?” he asked, already knowing that you were by the way you wrapped your arms around your middle.

“A little,” you mumbled, smiling as he covered the two of you in a blanket, squeezing your frame as he pulled it closer to his own.

You stayed like that for a while, your body resting nearly completely on top of his, your leg swung over his lap and your head nuzzled into his chest. Any tension that was there before seemed to have disappeared, both of you returning to your normal states.

But just seconds later, the screen flashed to a bedroom, the two main characters in the middle of what could be referred to only as a passionate, graphic sex scene. You immediately felt Brady tense beneath you, your cheeks flushing bright red at his response. It took everything within you not to react in any other way, but it felt like your entire body was on fire, begging to be touched. The sounds of the woman’s moans echoed off the walls, her face contorting in pleasure as the man continued. There was no denying that the image triggered a throbbing pressure between your legs, your brain fighting your body’s instinct to grind against his thigh.

Brady’s stomach dropped when he processed what was happening, the woman undressing on the screen making his mind wander to doing the same thing with you. He wanted to touch you like that, he wanted to make you scream his name like that, make you fall apart like that because no one knew you as well as he did. But his imagination was far too vivid, and he internally cursed himself as he felt his pants become tighter and tighter.

This has to be the longest sex scene in the history of all film, you thought to yourself as it continued, seemingly never-ending. Your hand was growing sore from its position under your head, so you gently shifted your body in hopes of getting more comfortable, but what you got was something else entirely.

Your breath hitched when you felt it, unable to disguise your reaction. You were situated over his lap, your lower thigh brushing against his crotch and you could feel just how hard he had become beneath you. You froze, not knowing what to do or say, if anything at all.

“Y/N,” he whispered, preparing to apologize, afraid he had made you so uncomfortable that he couldn’t recover.

You knew he was beyond embarrassed, but something inside you had been ignited and you couldn’t ignore it any longer. Before you could talk yourself out of it, you swung your hips over his, moving to straddle him while you grabbed his face, pulling it to yours. He tensed again in pure shock, but it didn’t take long for him to relax against you, his hands circling your waist as he pushed you back down into his lap. Your lips moved together in perfect synchrony, a small whimper slipping out from your mouth as he bit your bottom lip between his teeth. He groaned into you at the sound, his hands sliding lower so he could grind you into his length, in desperate need of hearing you more. You had one hand tugging at the nape of his neck, the blond curls feeling like silk between your fingers, while the other slipped underneath his shirt, running your cool fingertips across his flexing abs.

You were both so lost in the moment, ready to rip each other's clothes off at any second when Brady finally pulled back.

“Wait,” he gasped, running his large hands across your thighs as he gathered his thoughts.

Your breathing was labored, trying to catch your breath as you took in the sight below you. His lips were pink and swollen, his cheeks had a bright red tinge, and his blues eyes were staring at you in awe.

“What?” you questioned, insecurity suddenly flooding your mind, your body separating from his as you leaned away.

“No no no,” he cooed, urging you to come back close to him. You obliged, your eyes scanning his face in hopes of deciphering what he was thinking.

“I just- if we’re going to do this,” he gestured between your bodies, “We have to do... this,” he whispered as he looked up at you, what he meant perfectly clear to you. “I want you, but I want all of you.”

You smiled at his words, the anxiety washing off his face as he saw your reaction.

“Brady, I have wanted this for longer than I can even remember,” you beamed, your hands cupping his cheeks, thumbing running over the soft skin. “I want all of you, too.”

“Yeah?” he grinned.

“Yeah,” you laughed.

He pulled you back down to meet his lips, your teeth clashing as you both smiled into the kiss.

“Well then,” he smirked, “If you don’t mind, I’m taking you upstairs.”

He wrapped his palms around your thighs, holding you as he stood up. You shrieked at the sudden movement, laughing as your legs circled his waist. He held you impossibly close to his body, terrified to let you go now that he had you.

“Please, Brady,” you whined against his skin, “Take me upstairs.”

“Fuck,” he breathed out.

That was all he needed to hear to rush up to his room, more than ready to show you exactly how much he had loved you since day one.

part two here

#brady tkachuk #brady tkachuk imagine #nhl imagine #hockey imagine #my writing

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emmerrr · 3 years

Note

Jordeclan going to an amusement park or a fair? They both just honestly need a break and some fun!!

anon i’m so sorry this took so long but hey i made it valentine’s day and there’s lynch bros content and i hope you like it (also on ao3)

Declan wakes up on the morning of Valentine’s Day not really aware that it’s Valentine’s Day.

It’s Saturday, so he doesn’t need to go into work, and he trundles down the stairs into the kitchen and makes himself a coffee. Matthew and Ronan are still asleep, the latter of whom spent the night after driving up the previous day to go to an art show with his brothers. (Ronan had been less than subtle about his disdain for the ‘art’ in question; Declan had dragged them out early to go to a diner for some burgers. Brotherly bonding at its finest.)

He sits at the breakfast bar with his coffee and checks his emails on his phone like he’s reading the news. There’s a few work things, but not too much, all things considered. He sends a good morning text to Jordan, knowing in all likelihood she won’t read it until at least noon. The thought of her brings a smile to his face, and he wonders if he’ll get to see her later. They don’t have any solid plans in place, but their relationship has never been one that follows a rigid structure anyway. She’s been a breath of fresh air in every possible way.

An hour or so later, Declan hears Ronan moving around in the guest bedroom upstairs, probably throwing his stuff together before he drives back to Singer’s Falls. Not long after that, Matthew comes down the stairs, golden curls matted to his head on one side from where he’s slept on them.

“Mornin’,” he says through a yawn, and takes a seat. “What’s for breakfast?”

“Whatever you want.”

Matthew hums. “I want eggs.”

Declan nods at the fridge. “Go on then.”

Matthew sighs but gets up again and opens the refrigerator, standing solemnly in front of it before slowly removing a carton of eggs.

He puts them down and makes a good show of looking lost as he meanders around the kitchen finding everything he needs. Declan knows he’s doing it on purpose, but goddamn if it doesn’t work. “For crying out loud, how do you want them?”

Matthew grins; he’s won this round. “Scrambled, please. You’re the best.”

“Yeah, yeah. You can make your own toast, though. And go and ask Ronan if he wants any.”

“Yes, sir!” Matthew salutes, and runs off to the hallway to yell up the stairs at Ronan.

A mountain of breakfast later, Ronan disappears again to have a shower, and Declan makes Matthew wash the dishes. He sits in the living room and turns on some nature documentary just for background noise, but only a minute or two passes before Matthew comes in and sits down.

“You cannot possibly have finished the dishes yet,” Declan says.

“They need to soak,” Matthew insists, eyes skating guiltily from Declan’s face to the TV screen. “Oh, is this the one with the penguins?” He sits down, and Declan resolves himself to finishing the singular chore he asked Matthew to do later.

“Yes, half a job Bob, it’s the one with the penguins.”

Matthew smiles indulgently and settles in to watch, but they both get distracted a moment later when they spot Ronan walking past, carrying a lot more than he originally had with him.

“Why do you have a big teddy bear?” Matthew asks.

“Is that a boom-box?” Declan asks.

“Is that a heart-shaped balloon with Adam’s face on it?” Matthew asks.

“What are you doing?” Declan asks.

Ronan leaves everything in the hall by the door and comes to stand just inside the living room, hands in his pockets. He shrugs. “Just gonna make a pit-stop at Cambridge, that’s all.”

Declan sighs. “It’s not exactly on your way. Does Adam even know you’re coming?”

“No, it’s a surprise. It’s a funny inside joke Valentine’s surprise.”

“What do you mean, Valentine’s surprise, it’s not Val—oh my god.” Declan puts his head in his hands. “Oh my god, it’s Valentine’s Day.”

“Oh, Declan,” Ronan says, the smile evident in his voice. “Forget, did you?”

Declan lifts his head. “It was a busy week at work.”

“Don’t worry, bro, I must have got all the romantic genes, it’s not your fault.”

Declan scowls but there’s little heat in it. He checks his phone and Jordan is yet to reply, which could mean nothing, but doubt now niggles in Declan’s mind. What if Jordan was expecting some kind of gesture and is now massively disappointed that Declan is so useless?

“What do I do? It’s too late to make any reservations.”

“Reservations are for chumps anyway, just go and do something fun,” Ronan says.

“Like what?” Declan snaps. All that’s running through his head is that he got Jordan some tyrian purple at great cost and at very short notice for their very first date. If her expectations for Valentine’s Day are high, he has no one to blame but himself.

“I’ll leave that up to you to figure out,” Ronan says. “I have to hit the road.”

Matthew laughs and elbows Declan playfully. “Ronan is a better boyfriend than you.”

“No he isn’t, shut up,” Declan says, which just makes Matthew laugh harder.

After Ronan hugs Matthew goodbye, Declan helps him carry the ridiculous gifts he has obviously dreamt up out to the car.

“Text me when you’re with Adam,” he says when he’s closed the trunk, “so I know you got there okay.”

Ronan opens the driver’s side door and levels Declan with a put-upon look. “Fine, I will try my very best to remember to text you when I arrive.”

Declan manages a smile. “Appreciate it. Drive safe.”

Ronan moves to get in the car, but hesitates, and turns back to his brother. “You’re not really worried that you forgot about today, right?” At Declan’s shrug, he continues, “Come on, Jordan’s cool, she’s not gonna care. Everyone knows Valentine’s Day is bullshit.”

“Says the guy who’s driving several hours out of his way in honour of said bullshit day,” Declan says pointedly.

Ronan shakes his head. “Look, the day’s irrelevant; I’m driving several hours out of my way because I miss my fucking boyfriend and this is as good an excuse as any to go see him.”

“Yes, but—”

“But nothing. Jordan likes you, for some unfathomable reason. She’s not gonna dump you because you didn’t remember to plan some posh, soulless valentine’s date.”

Abrasive as he is, Declan can’t deny that Ronan’s right. “When did you get so wise?” he grumbles, and Ronan smirks.

“Hey, statistically I’ve gotta be right about some things.”

“Once in a blue moon.”

“Asshole.”

“Yeah, yeah. Get out of here.” Ronan gets into the car, but Declan stops him before he shuts it. “You really think Jordan is cool?”

Ronan laughs. “Way too cool for you.”

Declan’s unwarranted fears about Jordan ignoring him fade as soon as she texts him back an hour or so later. She doesn’t mention the dreaded V-word, but she says there’s a fair in town, and asks if he wants to go.

A fair date sounds pretty perfect actually, and when he agrees, Jordan tells him she’ll pick him up at seven. She always does like to drive.

“I still haven’t got her a gift, though,” Declan tells Matthew. “Is it bad that I don’t have a gift?”

“You’re going to a fair,” Matthew points out. “Plenty of opportunities to be all manly and shit and win her something.”

“Language,” Declan says, and Matthew rolls his eyes.

“You should get her a card, at least.”

“Valentine’s Day cards are always so terrible, though,” Declan complains.

“So make her one. Jordan’s arty, she’d probably like that better anyway.”

Declan doesn’t like that both of his younger brothers are being smarter than him today, but nevertheless, Matthew is right, and Declan ransacks his office supplies to see what he can come up with.

He uses some high-quality photo paper to print out a picture of a pretty flower that he found online, then carefully cuts it out and glues it to the middle of the front of some card he’s folded in half. He frames it by cutting out strips of purple card and sticking them around the flower. Then he gets irritated with how shit it looks and considers throwing the whole fucking thing away and starting from scratch, when Matthew peers over his shoulder and says, “Aw, that looks really nice.”

So Declan keeps it, writes his message inside, and finds an envelope that is only a little bit too big to put it in.

Time’s getting on, so he goes to get ready. He has no idea what to wear for a date at a fair, and takes two tie options out to the living room to get Matthew’s opinion.

“Which tie is more appropriate?”

“Neither.”

“You didn’t even look.”

“I don’t need to. Don’t wear a tie. You’re not going on a job interview. Plus it’s February and you’ll be outside, put a sweater on.” Matthew does finally look at him now, and he sighs at Declan’s blue button-down and grey slacks. “This is what you wear for work, put some jeans on. You’ve like, met Jordan, right?”

“Alright, smartass, point taken.”

When Declan’s changed again, Matthew decrees his outfit of jeans and a fairisle sweater in navy tones boring but ultimately acceptable, which Declan figures is the best he’s going to get. He also thinks he’s going mad if he’s asking Matthew of all people for fashion advice.

He just has time to slip his coat on and put the card in the inside pocket before there’s a knock at the door, and Matthew runs to open it.

“Hiya, squirt,” Jordan says to him, which is funny because Matthew is taller than her.

“Hey. Declan tried to wear a tie.”

Jordan laughs, throwing her head back, and Declan finds there’s a dopey grin on his face even though his girlfriend and his brother are bonding over making fun of him. “Of course he did. Never fully dressed without a tie.” She meets Declan’s gaze over Matthew’s shoulder and winks at him.

“Hey, I’m right here,” he says, faux-wounded, and makes his way over to the door as Matthew heads back to the living room.

He kisses Jordan. “Hi.”

“Hi yourself. You ready to go?”

“Yes.”

“Have fun, guys!” Matthew yells, and Declan hesitates, poking his head in to look at his brother.

“What are you doing tonight? You can come with us if you want?”

“No way, man, I’m not third-wheeling on your date. Also it’s cute how you think I don’t already have plans, I’m extremely popular.”

“Uh huh,” Declan says, worries evaporating. “Modest, too.”

They leave, finally, and Jordan drives them to where the fair is set up, filling Declan in on any little anecdotes he’s missed since they last spoke. He’s happy just to listen to her talk; sitting in her presence is like recharging a battery, and he feels lighter than he has all week.

Parking is easy to find, and they huddle together as they walk towards the entrance, the lights from all the rides and the heat lamps looking bright and inviting beyond. Jordan slips her hand into Declan’s, and he tucks them both into his pocket as Jordan leans her head against his shoulder.

“I missed you this week,” she says.

“Did you?” Declan smiles. He likes being missed by Jordan. “I missed you too. I always miss you.”

“Well you say that now, but I’m going to destroy you at fairground games, so you might change your mind.”

Declan’s doubtful, but he grins at her amenably.

She holds up a finger. “But first, we need to go on a couple of super fast, spinny rides, because if we go on them after I’ve had something to eat I might just throw up all over you.”

“Yeah, let’s avoid that,” Declan says. “Lead the way.”

Jordan, practically vibrating with excitement, drags Declan straight to the ride she keeps calling ‘the whirligig’, because it takes you round and round, faster and faster, while the carriage you sit in is also spinning. So it’s double the amount of spinning, and when they get off, Declan has to stop for a minute with his hands on his knees while Jordan lovingly laughs at him.

She takes pity on him and they go on the ferris wheel next. They kiss when it stops when they’re at the top, which Declan knows is cliché as hell, but he’s certainly not complaining. He pulls back a little, his thumb gently brushing along her cheekbone.

“I made you a card,” he says, a little embarrassed. Jordan’s warm brown eyes go wide and pleased.

“Oh yeah?”

He pulls it out of his pocket and starts to hand it to her nervously. “It’s not very good.”

“I’ll be the judge of that,” she says, taking it from him. She opens it and smiles when she sees the flower. “So pretty.”

“It’s called a Middlemist red camellia. It’s like the rarest flower in the world. Or so Google tells me.” He knows that Jordan will know why he specifically chose this flower. He’s telling her something about who she is to him. She won’t miss the significance of that.

She brings Declan’s hand to her lips and kisses it gently, before letting it go and looking at the card again. “I love camellia’s,” Jordan says, “but I’ve never seen this one before.” She opens the card and reads the message Declan wrote inside, a soft smile growing the more she reads.

Jordan sighs and holds the card to her chest with her eyes closed. When she opens them again, she says, “I made you a card, too.”

She pulls it out of her own coat pocket, and Declan opens it. On the front is a colour pencil drawing of him, perfect hair, non-smiling, boring suit, but with the fanciest shoes he has ever seen; a more exaggerated version of the ones he was wearing when he and Jordan first met.

Declan laughs in joyous surprise. “Your card is better than mine.”

“My card is funnier than yours,” she says. “It’s not better.”

“Thank you,” he says, earnestly, looking at the portrait and cracking up again. “I think...I think I’m gonna frame this.”

“You should. It’ll be worth a fortune some day.”

Of that, Declan has no doubt. “You wanna know a secret?”

“Absolutely.”

“I forgot it was Valentine’s Day.”

It’s Jordan’s turn to laugh, and she leans in to kiss Declan’s cheek. “I forgot, too. I didn’t realise until I went to grab a coffee and there were Valentine’s specials going on all over the place.”

“Ronan of all people reminded me. He drove up to surprise Adam at Cambridge.”

“Bless him, Ronan really is a gigantic softie.”

Declan grins. “Well he told me he thinks you’re cool. Too cool for me.”

“Aw, babe, he’s right!” Jordan says, laughing at his sad pout. “Unfortunately for me, I love you anyway.”

Declan shakes his head, smiling. “You’re a dick,” he says. “But I love you, too.”

The ferris wheel starts moving again, and when it stops, they go and try their hand at some games. Jordan comes out on top at ring tossing, duck hooking, the coconut shy, and the buzzwire, but Declan does pretty well at the mini laser quest and a balloon-popping darts game.

They end up at the shooting game stall, where you have to try and knock the cans over to win prizes. There’s a cute stuffed stegosaurus that Jordan has her eye on, and Declan pays for them both to have a go to try and win it.

They each manage to knock a couple of cans over, but there’s some that are way more stubborn and don’t seem to budge even when clearly hit.

“Another round,” Declan says when his go is finished. He sighs in frustration when the results are the same.

Jordan puts his hand on his arm. “You know these things are rigged, right? They’re weighted, it’s almost impossible to win the good prizes.”

The rational part of his brain understands this to be true. The monkey part wants the prize. “Yes, but it’s Valentine’s Day and I have to win you this stupid stegosaurus. My manly pride is at stake.”

Jordan snorts. “Well how about we take your manly pride to that stall over there and I’ll let you buy me a churro, I’m starving.”

“...Churros sound good.”

Jordan links her arm through Declans as they follow their noses over to the churro stall.

“I really would’ve won it with one more go,” Declan feels the need to say.

“Sure you would,” Jordan says easily. “Maybe later.”

“Fuck later, it’s freezing. You wanna come back to mine? I’ll make you a latte.”

Jordan grins up at him. “I thought you’d never ask. Churros first though.”

“Oh, that’s a given.”

#the raven cycle #jordeclan #lynch bros #dreamertrilogy #anon #emma answers

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reidecorating · 4 years

Text

Waking up Slow

Requested: Nope, this is just what happens when I decide to avoid studying for physics

Pairing: Matthew Gray Gubler x Female Reader

Word Count: Around 2k

Summary: It’s been a dream of mine to wear Gube’s alien shirt and make him food and just have a good old yarn with the man so I decided to write about it. This is just a whole lot of flirting and banter and making out on a Sunday morning

Warnings: None, a lil spicy but pretty SFW, might mistake this for a pillow though, with the amount of fluff

Rays of impatient late morning sun poured in through the gaps in the curtains, which were hastily shut the night before, as they failed to meet in the middle. Matthew never minded sleeping with them half open. Some nights, he would squint and try to make out constellations in the cosmos as his whole world lay curled up beside him, her ear against his heartbeat the way a young child would listen to the ocean through a shell. Other nights, when they would both lay tired and out of breath, she would call him moonlight as her fingers danced along his collarbones, shimmering in the star shine as the thin veil of sweat painting them was the only evidence of what they had been doing previously. However, now, while the two of them remained entwined, the white sheets appeared to glow yellow in the wake of the stars which had collected into one, hours ago. She woke up to Matthew’s arm draped around her waist, having found its way under the fabric of the shirt that scantily covered her, in an attempt to share the warmth of her skin. Stretching and letting out a yawn, she debated falling back asleep, seeing as her only interlocutor was still doing the same. Craning her neck over the pile of poetry sitting on the bedside table, obscuring her view, she made out the small digital numbers reading just before midday, and turned to face the dozing man beside her.

Her eyes brushed over him in all his sleeping beauty, head resting against the supple skin of his upturned palm, brown hair brighter in the morning light, pixie nose tilted up towards the headboard. His eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks at whatever he was dreaming of, and she wanted, so badly, to taste the pink of his parted lips, to join his dreamscape by breathing into his lungs. A large portion of the sheets had been stolen by her in the middle of the night. While she was bundled up like a cinnamon roll, Matthew lay exposed to whatever monsters and ghosts he claimed reside in his house. His bare chest rose and fell with each breath, but her eyes trailed down to where the waistband of his pyjamas hung temptingly low on his hips, leaving very little to the imagination. Catching her off guard, he pried open one eye, the murky waters of a pond spilling into her view. “It’s rude to stare,”

“Not at art, it isn’t,” she combated his teasing. He groaned theatrically as he stretched out across the span of the bed before regaining his position. “I won’t take sugar in my coffee then, you’re sweet enough,” he smirked. “Oh no, could you please move, I’m actually trying to look at the portrait behind you,” she teased. “Evil,”

“But you love me,”

“I do.”

He removed his arm from where it rested, a little too low on her body, to tuck a loose strand of hair behind her ear, letting his hand linger on her cheek, absentmindedly stroking his thumb against the slight flush of her face. She tilted her head slightly to delicately graze her lips against the inside of Matthew’s wrist, making his breath hitch. “Kiss me?” She asked, giving into the adoring look in his eyes. “Your wish is my command, m’lady,”

“Wow, a magician and a genie, I really hit the jackpot with you,”

“You’re really going to leave bodybuilder off the list? With muscles like these? I’m built like…Dwayne Johnson. Did you know they wanted me to be in the Fast and Furious series? But they actually thought I was ‘too buff’ and ‘too macho’ and all my sex appeal would distract from the plot, so they had to settle for Dwayne.”

Laughing into his chest, she pulled herself up and straddled his waist, bringing the blanket with her as if it were a cape. “I’m not joking, Y/N, my net worth is sixty thousand dollars per muscle,” he continued, one hand behind his head and the other now resting on her bare hip, tracing light circles on the skin where her giant shirt had ridden up, revealing the black band of her underwear. “Essentially, what you’re saying is that I could sell you on the black market and make a lot of cash?” She asked him raising an eyebrow and toying with the mess of his hair. “You could, but then you would miss out on this.” He finally kissed her, slow and tactile. Resting on her forearms, linked together above his head, she let her hair drape down and tickle the sides of his face. He swiped his tongue along her bottom lip, at a painstakingly low pace, his hands now caressing her jaw and dabbling with her hair. She breathed him in while he continued to gently suck at her lips, then jaw, then neck, eliciting faint moans from her. “We’re hungry,” he spoke, halting his actions, removing her from her reverie. “Matthew, don’t stop,” she whined semi-facetiously. He gave her a smug look, eyebrows raised. “Fine, I’ll make you food - only because you did it yesterday - but we’re not done here,” she huffed, making him chuckle as she crossly got off him, and out of bed. “It looks nice on you, pumpkin,” Matthew chirped. Tilting her head in confusion, she looked down and realised he was referring to his whimsical alien shirt she had stolen the night before. The buttons that were undone torturously left Matthew craving her skin, as she gave him a glimpse of his favourite view each time she bent down to slide on a sock. “Considering it is a woman’s top…”

“Hey!” He threw a pillow at her, “I thought it looked nice, something a space cowboy would wear during his leisurely time,” “I didn’t say it didn’t look nice!” Her hands went up in surrender, suppressing a smile when she threw the pillow back in his direction. Making her way towards the kitchen, she left him starstruck and staring at the ceiling, smiling to himself like a teenager in love.

Eyes getting tired of reading the words of Robert Frost, when his stomach grumbled loud enough to genuinely frighten him, he placed down the book and followed the enticing aroma wafting into his room. When he saw her, she was humming to herself, swaying to the rhythm of whatever song was playing in her head. He admired her bare legs as the hem of his shirt skimmed the tops of her thighs. Gazing at her tied hair swinging to and fro, giving him snippets of the back of her neck, he became eager to pick up where they had left off. “Hey there lover of mine, wasn’t it you who told me its rude to stare?” She beamed at him, turning around cradling a giant bowl of some sort of mixture in one arm while sporting a giant wooden spoon with the other. He realised she must’ve heard him shuffling around, he wasn’t the most graceful person alive after all. His heart melted at the smile she sent his way, tucking his lip beneath his teeth to avoid grinning back so hard he would sprain something. “You’re so beautiful, Y/N,” he glanced down at his feet from where he leant against the doorframe. She still made him nervous. However, the man never failed to make her fall past the point of no return each day, so they were even. “I’m so in love with you, Gube,” she shook her head and laughed, facing the stove again. He stepped forwards and slunk his arms around her, planting a kiss on her cheek before dipping a finger in the batter to taste it. “I tried making us heart shaped pancakes,” she muttered sheepishly. “Key word, tried.” He stifled a laugh, looking at the piles of pancakes on their plates, decorated in berries and cream. “Maybe if you squint and look at them from really really far away they look a little bit like hearts…”

“Do you have a warrant for all this pancake slander? Because I wasn’t aware that you were the geometry police,” she poured the last of the batter into the pan before piling up more dishes. “The proportions in my paintings can speak to that,” He pointed to his latest work in progress leaning against the wall, its newest layer drying in the spring breeze which was fleeting past the rickety handles of the kitchen windows. “I’m glad Picasso came and went when he did, poor man’d be facing some real competition if he was still around,” setting down his warm brew in front of him as he dug into his - what was now - brunch, she continued to tantalise him. “Are you mocking my curvaceous abstract cockroach? It actually came to me in a dream once,”

“Matthew, you did not just use the adjective ‘curvaceous’ in regards to an insect,” she chuckled, “but a dream? Really?” She pressed on, wondering, one, why he was dreaming about the revolting beasties and, two, whether she should leave him while she still could. “No, I lied, I just saw your face and felt inspired,” he winked. “Hurtful,” she scoffed. “All the artistic recognition is getting to your head, fame changed you Gube,”

“What’s a man without his roach?” A fake western accent glossing his words as he made a gesture of stroking a bug between his hands made you throw your head back in laughter. “Well, I’ll be damned, a roach-less man!” She chimed in, sounding almost as Texan as he did, making it his turn to laugh.

They ate in a serene silence, aside from Matthew’s odd compliments to the chef, both enjoying the view from opposite sides of the kitchen counter. “So, aside from finishing that horrid thing,” she tilted her head in the direction of his painting, “what’s on the agenda for the one, and the only, Salvador Dali, today?” Matthew breathed out a laugh in response to her comparison. “Would you still love me if I grew out my moustache like his?”

“Bold of you to assume I love you even without the moustache,” A false and dramatic look of hurt found its way onto his face as she teasingly blew him a kiss from where she stood at the sink. “Anyway, now that you’ve completely destroyed my self confidence and broken my tiny, fragile heart, to answer your question… You are, actually,” he spun around on his bar stool. A sea of scarlet rose up her neck and made a home in her cheeks at his simple remark. “Well… I’m glad, because you’ve been at the top of my ’To Do’ list for a while now.”

She placed their cups in the sink and made her way over to where he sat, the seat of the stool resembling a bottle cap. “Is that so?” He smirked, now wearing the same shade of blush she was, as she stood between his knees, letting her hands snake up around his neck. “Mhm,” she gently planted her lips on his, “and you’re one thing I’m not going to procrastinate on getting done,”

“You’re killing me, Y/N,” he breathed against her mouth. “You’ve always wanted you be a ghost, haven’t you?” She felt him smile against her as her lips glided over his. She placed one hand, still warm from the coffee it had been cradling, on his chest while the other inattentively played with the wiry tendrils of hair at the nape of his neck. The effect she had on him hadn’t changed with time, even after two years, she realised, his racing heartbeat evident beneath her palm.

This time, when their lips met, it was slightly more desperate, the need for one another gushing from both of them. She captured his bottom lip beneath hers, gently biting down before drawing back for air. Matthew gazed at her devotedly, eyebrows furrowing together when she kissed him again. While her tongue traced over his lips, enchanting him, his hands travelled down to her thighs, gripping each of them firmly before standing up and lifting her onto the counter. Their lips separated with a small smack as she gasped at the contrast in temperature between the granite and her skin. His nose skimmed hers when he made his way back down along the same path he had travelled earlier that morning, this time, unbuttoning the remainder of the shirt she wore, the heavenly sounds she was making leaving him in a trance. He adored seeing her this way, unguarded and sinking in his touch. “You’re sensational, Matthew,” she sighed, tugging at his hair and craning her neck back to allow him more access. He nipped at the column of her throat, smiling to himself at the comment. She had no clue what she did to him. “Angel, I don’t often get dessert after breakfast, but do you think you can make it happen for me today?”

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toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years

Text

Halloween // Matthew Gray Gubler x Reader

Another Story based on a gif/picture! (Hope this is kinda what you were thinking @aberrant-annie )

Summary - It's the first year that y/n and Matthew are a couple, and he insists that they have a couples costume for an upcoming party.

Word count - 2.5k

Gif courtesy of @nationgubler

It was that time of year again. The time where Matthew got impossibly excited, wore tremendously weird costumes, and snuck up behind me an ungodly amount of times.

Halloween.

Now you may be thinking, 'Halloween is a fun and *normal* time of year for many families!' But you only think that because you haven't met my boyfriend Matthew.

Now let's give a little background on the weirdo that is my best friend.

Matthew Gray Gubler is an actor, author, filmmaker, illustrator, fashion model, and painter. But what they don't put on his google search profile is that, before all, he is a Halloween Enthusiast.

He and I have been best friends for over 8 years, and every single one of those years he has effortlessly dragged me into any kind of spooky shenanigan that he could. This was the first year of the 8 that we are a couple, so he decided, in a fit of glory as he put it, that we *needed* a couple's costume this year for the Criminal Minds cast Halloween party. I was 100% down for this idea, but boy, I really didn't know what I was getting myself into by agreeing to it so easily. So let's go back to where this whole ordeal began.

The day was October 15th, and I was sitting blindfolded in the passengers seat of Matthew's car.

"Where the hell are we going?" I giggled, flailing my arms around the car, blindly looking for the trail mix I left in his car the day before. He grabbed my wrist, leading it down to the cupholder and putting my hand on the bag. He knew me too well.

"It's a surprise, obviously, just know it has to do with Halloween." He grabbed my hand and placed a gentle kiss to the top of it.

"Doesn't everything have to do with Halloween with you?"

"Maybe." He laughed.

We were in the car for around 15 minutes, all the while I jammed out to a mix of songs I loved and goofy Halloween themed songs. Matthew had made a playlist of the two as a compromise.

I heard the car click into park and listened as Matthew left the car and walked to my side, opening the door and leading me out.

"When will I be able to see again? This whole blind thing is not for me." He laughed at my remark, looping his arm through mine so he could lead me to what I could only assume was my death. That's when I heard it, the all too familiar laugh of a clown.

Here we go.

Without the notice of my lovely boyfriend I whipped my hand up to my head, removing the black cloth that covered my eyes, I only heard a squeak of protest from him before I saw 'The Haunted Jail' before me.

"Of course." I rolled my eyes in a playful manner, unhooking myself from his arm. "So, why are we here."

"Well, I was thinking that maybe we could get some couple costume ideas from here. It's the jails doubles night so two workers tag team on a costume." He gestured wildly with his hands towards the sign that read *Doubles night! Couples get a 15% discount tonight*. I shook my head in amusement.

"Alright, let's go."

After walking through the 3 story building, we came out with a nice list of ideas for scary couples costumes. This consisted of :

•Beetlejuice

•Pupetmaster and puppet

•Purge

•Wedding gone wrong

•Twisted Alice and Mad Hatter

Then we just had to come to a decision, and soon.

We then sat in the car on our way home to dig out more decorations from the attic. Our house from the inside looked like someone had gotten murdered. There were giant floor and window stickers that resembled blood, fake knives everywhere, and caution tape. This all paired with the tape in the shape of a body on the ground near our fridge. But Matthew had so graciously pointed out that we needed to decorate the outside like we were a haunted house.

He was currently up in our creepy ass attic as I stood with crossed arms at the end of the rickety ladder that led up there. He popped his head out of the little square hole, wearing a jason mask. I narrowed my eyes and shook my head with the smallest smile.

"I'm gonna hand some boxes down to you." I heard him say behind the muffling mask.

The first box held large organized strings of orange LEDs and hooks to set them up on. The next box was filled with fake webs and the next was a huge box. I set it on the ground, prying it open to reveal giant spiders with tacky red eyes and long fangs.

"Are we gonna have these bad boys climbing the ivy outside?" He popped from the attic in a new, mask. A werewolf one I assumed.

"Yep!" He lightly set another box in my hands. "I hate the smell of these masks," He ripped the mask off, revealing his unruly hair and squinting eyes from the new amount of light. "why do I keep buying them?" It made my heart melt, messy hair Gubler was my favorite Gubler.

We dragged all of the boxes outside and decorated for what seemed like 6 hours, it was way harder work than what you would expect. We ended up with 2 giant spiders hung on the ivy, 1 crawling up the porch, and 2 more on the roof. The webs we had were strung everywhere, but the 'main web', as Matthew called it, was across the porch. We had LEDs lighting up most of the outside of our house, it made it look like a constant sunset, or constantly living in a horror movie. Whatever floats your boat. And lastly, we had bloody tomb stones scattered in the yard with fake hands reaching up at the sky through the ground.

Then it was October 16th. I had woken up groggily, feeling the bed beside me for Matthew, but only touching the soft white sheets. The time was 9:47 am and the sun was bleeding through the curtains. My legs hung over the bed as my limbs stretched, pulling down a shirt that was much to large for me *probably because it wasn't mine*. As soon as I stepped out of my bedroom I was met with a scream mask.

"**Morning!**" This made me scream.

"Damnit Matthew Gray! Christ, will the scaring ever end?" I say this but of course, it was really one of my favorite things about him.

"Not until Christmas." He replied with a cocky smile, kissing me softly. I grabbed the back of his neck, deepening the kiss and trying to make him take the hint. He pulled away swiftly. "I would *love* to continue doing this." He ran his hands down my arms and to my hips. "But I made you breakfast and eggs are better warm." He squeezed my hip and gently pushed me toward the kitchen.

Over breakfast we discussed what we were going to go as for the party. We came to the conclusion that doing purge killers would be the most fun. Now all we had to do was get the costumes.

So we left around 1 for Party City. The place had a surprisingly small amount of people, considering the time of year. However there was one girl in there that kept sneaking looks at Matthew. She was standing near some children's costumes. I quickly found out why when a kid came running up with an Alice and Wonderland costume. Shaking it profusely at her mom. The woman kneeled down to her size and gestured towards Matthew. I scrunched my face up.

*What was she telling her?*

Matthew had kept walking and I swiftly caught up with him in the mask aisle. As soon as I got there, the small girl I had just saw was tugging at his orange pumpkin T-Shirt.

"Hi! My mommy said she's a big fan of you on crimimal minds." I giggled a bit. She waved him down to her level, and he gladly came down to listen. "I think she might have a crush on you." I could hear her whisper. He looked back at me expectantly, I just smiled with a shrug. I wasn't much of the jealous type, Matthew was *extremely* loyal, I trusted him with my life. I shooed him towards the woman. He stood and waved at her, gesturing her over and backing up to be by me. I was trying to be inconspicuous and look at the masks. But clearly my lovely boyfriend had a different idea.

"Hi! What's your name?" He asked with a famous million dollar grin.

"A-ashley." She stood for a second, silently staring at him. "I'm sorry, I obviously didn't expect to be seeing you. I'm a just huge fan of yours. And it doesn't help that you are way cuter in person." She smiled shyly, hugging her daughter to her side. Matthew smiled politely but quickly snaked his arm around my hip. I turned to her with the kindest smile I could. I could see realization dropping from her eyes to the red tips of her ears.

"Well you obviously know I'm Matthew. This is my girlfriend, y/n." I leaned into him slightly. Me and Matthew hadn't exactly gone *public*. So it was an honest mistake that she wouldn't know we were together. But to be fair, we weren't hiding it either. "Would you like a picture by the way?" That seemed to distract her enough to knock her out of her clearly petrified trance.

"Yes! A million times yes!"

"I'll take it for you." I grabbed the phone she held out with a slightly tense smile. We took a few pictures and said our goodbyes as she checked out an left. We got back to looking at masks.

"Did you see her face when I grabbed your hips? I kinda live for that look." I smacked his arm playfully.

"The poor girl, she just flirted with you in front if your *girlfriend*. You petrified her!"

"Well I think you just made her a little jealous." He came behind me, wrapping his arms around my stomach and kissing my shoulders.

"Ok Gubler," I slipped from his grip. "we are in public." He groaned a little and followed me down the aisle. I grabbed the cool LED masks with the X's for eyes and big smiles, the typical Purge ones. I got me a purple one and him a red one. Next stop was fake weapons.

I gazed at all of the weapons on the wall. Machetes, guns, bats, nunchucks, knives, all of it. I then looked over to see my boyfriend squinting and tapping his chin in fake contemplation.

"Oh just grab the knife, I know that's what you wanna get." He whipped it off the wall and gave me a serious look, pointing the sharp styrofoam at me. He tapped it to my nose and couldn't contain his laugh as I looked him in the eyes with the biggest smile I could muster.

"You really know how to break me out of character."

So he did end up buying the styrofoam knife, and I ended up buying a plastic machete. As we left the store, the masks and weapons in hand he nudged me.

"So have you thought of what we are gonna wear?"

"Oh yeah. I already have the outfit, you're gonna love it, mine at least. We still have some spare fake blood at home right?" He narrowed his eyes at me, nodding suspiciously. "Great, then I just have to decorate the shirts." Which is exactly what I did when we got home.

I laid our two white button up's on our asphalt driveway, splattering them with blood. Matthew watched me. Sitting a lawn chair as I covered my hands in the blood and put a few handprints on random parts.

"Can I see the whole outfit you have planned now?" He whined.

"Nope, you have to wait. It's not that far away."

But he had asked me to show him everyday up until today, October 31st, party day. Now here we are, on our way back from a McDonalds run that took a *bit* longer than anticipated and we had a very slight chance of being late. We stumbled into the house and ran to the room.

"Why are we rushing anyway?" I took a pause, catching my breath. "We don't have to be exactly on time anyway." He agreed and we slowed down a bit to get our things together.

"I didn't want to have to rush out after seeing you in costume anyway." He said, slyly reaching into the closet and grabbing our button up's. I grabbed the rest of my things from a plastic bag under my side of the bed. I went to the bathroom and changed. My outfit consisted of a black miniskirt, a black cropped tube top, and black knee high socks. Paired with black heeled low-top booties. Then slung over it all was ny open button up. I sheathed my machete behind me and walked out of the bathroom to see Matthew in his bloody shirt and old dress pants and shoes. His giant knife was sheathed in a holster on his side. He ogled at me for a moment, shifting on his feet.

"Holy- wow." He breathed out. I waltzed up to him, unbuttoning a few more buttons and messing his hair to fit the part a bit more. I handed him his mask, with my eyebrows raised. He set it on the bed behind him, cupping my face and bringing me in for a kiss. I ran my hands down his half bare chest and I could feel him smile into the kiss, so I did too, and boy was he a sucker for that. He deepened the kiss and pull me towards him as much as he could, leading his hands lower and lower. Eventually he grabbed my butt a little and I let a giggle slip into the kiss. I parted from him, staring into those honey brown eyes. I felt like a teenager. He had not taken his eyes off me since I left the bathroom.

"Take a picture, it'll last longer."

"Alright." He slid he phone from his pocket, snapping a picture of me. What was I gonna do with this man? I grabbed our masks and we headed out.

We were only about 20 minutes late to the party. We turned our LEDs on and entered AJs house, as her door was wide open.

"You guys look *amazing*!" Kirsten gushed. "Especially you y/n. *Damn* do you rock those socks."

"I know right?" He lifted his mask, placing a kiss on my cheek.

The whole night was filled with chugging fun Halloween themed drinks, compliments on our costumes, slipping secret kisses, and quite the photo shoot.

*And man was I in for it when I got home.*

-----------------------

@spenciereiddd said they wanted tagged in some writing, so here ya go my dude.

#mgg #criminal minds #matthew gray gubler x reader #matthew gray gubler #matthewgraygubler #spencer reid

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