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#i know at this point she can't really NOT be in white because it's her iconic robe's color it's just. funny that i thought there might be--
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"Let's Have a Talk, First"- Stereotypes, pt 1
Come sit down. You and I, before we get into any of the things I'm sure you're impatient to know: we need to have a come to Jesus talk, first.
There are some things that I've been asked and seen that strengthens my belief that we need to have a reframing of the conversation on stereotypes in media away from something as simple as "how do I find the checklist of stereotypes to avoid". Because race- and therefore racial stereotypes- is a complex construct! Stands to reason then, that seeing, understanding, and avoiding it won't be that simple! I'm going to give you a couple pointers to (hopefully) help you rethink your approach to this topic, and therefore how to apply it when you're writing Black characters- and even when thinking about Black people!
Point #1: DEVELOP THE CHARACTER!! WRITE!!
Excuse my crude language, but let me be blunt: Black people- and therefore Black characters- will get angry at things, and occasionally make bad choices in the heat of the moment. Some of us like to fuck real nasty, some might be dominant in the bedroom, they may even be incredibly experienced! Others of us succumb to circumstance and make poor decisions that lead to crime.
None of those things inherently makes any of us angry Black women and threatening Black men, Jezebels and BBC Mandingos, and gangsters and thugs!
Black people are PEOPLE! Write us as such!
If all Black characters ever did was go outside, say "hi neighbor!" and walk back in the house, we'd be as boring as racist fans often accuse.
I say this because I feel I've seen advice that I feel makes people think writing a Black character that… Emotes negatively, or gets hurt by life and circumstance, or really enjoys hard sex, or really any scenario where they might "look bad" is the issue. I can tell many people think "well if I write that, then it's a stereotype" and to avoid the difficulty, they'll probably end up writing a flat Black character or not writing them at all. Or- and I've seen this too- they'll overcompensate in the other direction, which reveals that they 'wrote a different sort of Black person!' and it comes off just as awkwardly because it means you think that the Black people that do these things are 'bad'. And I hate that, because we're capable of depth, nuance, good, evil, adventure, world domination, all of it!
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My point is, if you write your character like the human being they are, while taking care to recognize that you as the writer are not buying into stereotypes with your OWN messaging, you're fine. We have emotions, we have motivations and goals, we make decisions, and we make mistakes, just like anybody else. Write that! Develop your character!
POINT #2: YOU CAN'T CONTROL THE READERS!!
Okay. You can write the GREATEST Black character ever, full of depth, love, nuance, emotional range, all those things…. And people are still going to be racist about them. Sorry. There is absolutely nothing you can do to control a reader coming from that place of bias you sought to avoid. If it's not there, TRUST AND BELIEVE, it'll be projected onto them.
That passionate young Black woman who told the MC to get her head out of her ass? Yeah she's an angry Black bitch now, and bully to the sweet white MC. Maybe a lesbian mommy figure if they like her enough to "redeem" her. That Black gay male lead that treats his partner like he worships the ground he walks on? Yeah he's an abusive thug that needs to die now because he disagreed One Time with his white partner. That Black trans woman who happened to be competing against the white MC, in a story where the white MC makes comparable choices? Ohhhh they're gonna be VILE about that poor woman.
It really hurts- most especially as a Black fan and writer- knowing that you have something amazing to offer (as a person and creative) and people are gonna spit on that and call it "preference". That they can project themselves onto white characters no matter what, but if you project your experiences onto black characters, it's "pandering", "self insert", "woke", "annoying", "boring", and other foul things we've all gotten comments of.
But expect that it's gonna happen when you write a Black character, again, especially if you're a Black writer. If you're not Black, it won't hurt as personally, but it will probably come as a shock when you put so much effort in to create a lovely character and people are just ass about them. Unfortunately, that is the climate of fandom we currently exist in.
My favorite example is of Louis De Pointe Du Lac from AMC's Interview With The Vampire. Louis is actually one of the best depictions of the existential horror that is being Black in a racist White world I have ever seen written by mostly nonblack people. It was timeless; I related to every single source of racist pain he experienced.
People were HORRIFIC about Louis.
It didn't matter that he was well written and what he symbolized; many white viewers did NOT LIKE this man. There's a level of empathy and understanding that Black characters in particular don't receive in comparison to white counterparts, and that's due to many of those stereotypes and systemic biases I'm going to talk about.
My point is, recognize that while yes, you as the author have a duty to write a character thoughtfully as you can, it's not going to stop the response of the ignorant. Writing seeking to get everyone to understand what you were trying to do… Sisyphean effort. It's better to focus on knowing that YOU wrote something good, that YOU did not write the stereotype that those people are determined to see.
POINT #3: WHY is something a stereotype?
While there are lists of stereotypes against Black people in media and life that can be found, I would appreciate if people stopped approaching it as just a list of things you can check off to avoid. You can know what the stereotypes are, sure, but if you don't understand WHY they're a problem and how they play into perception of us, you'll either end up writing a flat character trying to avoid that list, or you're going to write other things related to that stereotype because "oh its not item #1"... and it'll still be racist.
For example: if you wrote a "sassy Black woman" that does a z formation neck rotation just because a store manager asked her something… that's probably stereotype. If you thought of a character that needed to be "loudmouthed", "sassy", and "strong" and a dark-skinned black woman was automatically what fit the profile in your mind, ding ding ding! THAT'S where you need to catch your racist biases.
But a dark-skinned Black woman character cursing out a store manager because she's had a really bad, stressful day and their attitude towards her pushed her over the edge may be in the wrong, but she's not an "angry Black woman". She's a Black woman that's angry! And if you wrote the day she had to be as bad as would drive anyone to overstimulation and anxiety, the blow up will make sense! The development and writing behind her led to this logical point (which connects to point #1!)
I'm not going to provide a truly exhaustive list of Black stereotypes in media because that would ACTUALLY be worth a college credited class and I do this for free lmao. But I am going to provide some classic examples that can get y'all started on your own research.
POINT #4: WATCH BLACK NARRATIVES!
As always, I'm gonna push supporting Black creators, because that's the best way to see the range of what you'd like. You want to see Black villains? We got those! Black heroes? Black antiheroes? Assholes, lovers, comedians, depressed, criminals, kings, and more? They exist! You can get inspired by watching those movies and reading those books, see how WE depict us!
I've seen mixed reviews on it, BUT- I personally really enjoyed Swarm, because it was one of the first times I'd ever seen that "unhinged obsessed murderous Black fan girl" concept. Tumblr usually loves that shit lmao. Even the "bites you bites you bites you [thing I love]" thing was there. And she liked girls, too. Just saying. I thought it was a fun idea that I'd love to see more of. Y'all gotta give us a chance to be in these roles, to tell these tales. We can do it too, and you'd enjoy it if you tried to understand it!
POINT#5: You are NOT Black!
This is obvious lmao, but if you're not Black, there's no need to pretend. There's no need to think "oh well I have to get a 100% perfect depiction of the Black person's mind". That's… That's gonna look cringe, at its best. You don't have to do that in order to avoid stereotypes. You're not going to be able to catch every nuance because it's not your lived experience, nor is it the societally enforced culture. Just… Do what you can, and if you feel like it's coming off hokey… Maybe consider if you want to continue this way lol. If you know of any Black beta readers or sensitivity reviewers, that'd be a good time to check in!
For example, if your Black character is talking about "what's good my homie" and there's absolutely no reason for him to be speaking that way other than to indicate that he's Black… 😬 I can't stop you but… Are you sure?
An egregious example of a TERRIBLE way to write a Black character is the "What If: Miles Morales/Thor" comic. I want to emphasize the lack of good Black character design involved in some of these PROFESSIONAL art spaces, because that MARVEL comic PASSED QA!! That comic went past NUMEROUS sets of eyes and was APPROVED!! IT GOT RELEASED!! NO ONE STOPPED IT!!
I'm sorry, it was just so racist-ly bad that it was hilarious. Like you couldn't make that shit up.
Anyway, unfortunately that's how some of y'all sound trying to write AAVE. I promise that we speak the Queen's English too lmao. If you're worried you won't get it right, just use the standard form of English. It's fine! Personally, I'd much rather you do that than try to 'decode AAVE' if you don't know how to use it.
My point is, if you're actively "forcing" yourself to "think Black"… maybe you need to stand down and reconsider your approach lmao. This is why understanding the stereotypes and social environment behind them will help you write better, because you can incorporate that Blackness- without having to verbally "emphasize how Black this is"- into their character, motivations, and actions.
Conclusion
We need to reconsider how we approach the concepts of stereotypes when writing our Black characters. The goal is not to cross off a checklist of things to avoid per se, but to understand WHY we have to develop our Black characters well enough to avoid incorporating them into our writing. Give your Black characters substance- we're human beings! We have motivations and fears and desires! We're not perfect, but we're not inherently flawed because of our race. That's what makes the difference!
And as always, and really in particular for this topic, it's the thought that counts, but the action that delivers!
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shippyo · 13 hours
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@kirbyoctournament
Introducing to you all,the only one and unique....
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Personality
She is extremely calm, she never seems to be bothered by anything, she is kind as much as she can be capable of saying something cruel, like life itself is, she always seems patient, because for her anything is ephemeral, even herself, but she will always be open to a conversation, she will advise you and will try to give her point of view about herself, always in a respectful manner.
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Powers
Life is ironically capable of taking life from other beings, to reincarnate them into a new being with her mere hands, usually looking like butterflies like her first daughter Morpho Knight.
She is capable to cast divine-looking lights,usually looks like a swarm of butterflies, although she won't attack in 99,9% of the times but the hundreds of her children will defend her.
Its mere presence is calming but its true form is unknown to common sense and if someone dared to see the beauty of life in its entirety, the impact it would have on your consciousness would be devastating, but with it, who knows, maybe it would be able to restore the unimaginable at the cost of resting for eons.
Life is capable of teleporting to any place in any universe, she never chooses a specific place, it enjoys walking and you can see her in the most beautiful fields of flowers or in the cruelest wars, you can consider yourself lucky to witness her, because it is practically a miracle.
And never mess with something beyond your comprehension cause only death can end all what she is.
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Canon characters she knows or knows that exist
Morpho
Her first daughter, before it was a different being who arrived by unknown means to the dimension of Life, she begged her not to send her to the afterlife, she didn't want that, the pain was so inmense due to her cruel Life that she just begged to stop existing, life, on the other hand, did something different and used its power for the first time in what became a being, completely new and at peace,Morpho has an unbreakable loyalty towards the being she now calls "mother"
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Necrodeus
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"Someone I loved? Or do i still love?"
The void
A being from the void reemerges from the heart, all always in a different way like Kirby or Zero himself, as if they were children yet to determine their destiny inside their mother or heart in this case, Life does not know them directly, it only knows that they exist and for some reason, she loves them, she feels a maternal sensation as if all those beings had been part of her at some point, although she can't explain why.
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Lore
[this part might not be that extense but cropping to not cluster everything,enjoy💖]
Once life was reborn, but before that, there was a life before, yes, a time when everything was different.
Once there was a woman in whom a new life was generated inside her, all on her wedding day on an now unknown place, butterflies fluttering, next to her pure white bone dress, walking towards who would be her husband, everything was complete happiness everything seemed to never end but...
At one point, when the husband was about to put the ring on the lady that would seal their love, something trembled and out of nowhere, everything broke into stardust, in the last seconds of pain and confusion, the lovers did not know that it was the end of everything known and unknown.
Life had died.
Or was it really like that?
Life woke up once again from...a dream? A nightmare? What was that even? Where was she now?
Is life really itself? She felt a pain that would gradually fade away along with the memory of what happened, at the same time another figure,the death itself also woke up where they were, they both looked at each other, they had never seen each other... like this?
But still they both felt a sense of nostalgia, something empty in them throbbed strongly, while memories of... themselves? or something that seemed like the they that they are now joined in their confused memories
" know you."
"But who were you?"
"Were we them? But who were we supposed to be?"
"Now, what are we?"
They both said, but neither could give an accurate answer.
And it didn't matter anymore.
A new everything emerged from nothing and they were part of that everything.
Life and death separated each one on their own for a long time searching, trying to know what they had to do, what it all meant, who those beings were.
until, one day after eons they met again to conclude that everything was nothing.
Nothing had meaning other than existing.
Nothing they could have experienced was eternal, they both came to the conclusion that everything would die to become a new whole again.
From their past memories they concluded that this was just a new phase in an eternal cycle without explanation, in which life would return only for death itself in its last seconds to kill her so that all of life would re-emerge as a new one when it was about to end and NEVER be the same as before.
And that couple, it may or may not have been them, it didn't matter, because they are no longer those entities and this will happen again and again, they are merely a new version of themselves of those they were and will be in the future.
It didn't make sense, nor did they both want that cruel fate, it's confusing, it's unfair,death even cried out of mere frustration.
But there was no escape, no being could escape it.
After this, now both beings try to find a filling for the void in their hearts, death wandering throught any universe and cursing "the all" for this meaninglessness, while life, still almost always remaining in her own dimension, a blank world that is in everywhere and nowhere, sometimes descends to any world that reaches the imagination wandering through them to perhaps find her own the meaning of life.
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sonicboomseason3 · 3 hours
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this is really fucked up, but one of the reasons why actors tend to not speak out on big political topics is because on some contracts, production companies will include clauses such as not being able to publicly contradict their political beliefs. this is enforced through either monetary penalties and non disparagement agreements, but they both serve the same purpose of having a legal precedent to publicly punish actors who do it
i was originally just gonna respond to this with an "ok" and nothing else but then i caught a good handful of people in my notes dickriding an actor who doesn't even know that they exist (and really only him because i haven't seen anyone doing the same for marsden or pally) so ykw how about i just take this opportunity to bring up a couple of other sketch things that keanu has done that show that he isn't nearly as cool as everyone wants to believe:
the party with netanyahu isn't actually the only time he's rubbed elbows with a prominent israeli - he actually trained with IOF special ops vet aaron cohen in order to play john wick (and on the off chance that anyone wants to dismiss cohen as some guy who was just in the IOF decades ago and left that shit behind, just take a look at his history here). cohen on his own is just an absolute piece of work and a cursory glance at his social media should tell you everything in case the past couple of sentences didn't
and since people want to play the fucking "keanu attended that party a decade ago!!1!" card with me (interestingly enough nobody's doing the same for marsden even though the thing with him was way back in like 2004) i'll go for something relatively recent: he's friends with killer cop toni mcbride. in 2020 mcbride shot and killed daniel hernandez and subsequently got sued by his family for it (guess whose movies they've requested that people boycott?). around the 0:10 mark of this video of the two of them meeting up, they make jokes about "shootin' newton," which is a chant lapd newton division cops came up with to reference the high amount of police shootings that happen there. also in case none of this is enough for you mcbride's a proud trump supporter so yeah she's just a full-on white supremacist and keanu not only decided to hang out with her for a day but also evidently knew enough about the lapd to know about "shootin' newton"
but back to anon's original point, am i supposed to care that he could potentially get fined for saying shit? this past week, hundreds of college students and faculty, most if not all of whom are significantly worse off than an a-list celebrity like keanu, have been brutalized and arrested for protesting the genocide on campuses. and somehow an actor with a net worth of $380 million can't say or do anything lest he run the risk of being fined or fired or whatever
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antiparticular · 1 month
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my wonderful beautiful tain who is so bad at being a paladin (not even at baldurs gate and she's already broken her oath)
here is the before :)
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smallblueandloud · 11 months
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referencing gifsets to try to figure out if leia's outfits speak towards a certain favorite color and i am uh. coming up with the predictable conclusion
iconic hooded robe from anh -- white
final celebration dress -- also white
hoth winter gear from esb -- white
cloud city dress -- burgandy, but plausibly not hers (provided by lando)
bounty hunter outfit from rotj -- black, but she's undercover
jabba bikini -- gold, but definitely not hers
rebellion command suit -- beige
green endor poncho -- green, but likely chosen for camouflage
ewok dress -- beige, but likely provided by ewoks
she spends like half her screentime wearing white and the other half of her screentime is 80% clothing she didn't get to choose the color of. Gee, I Wonder What Her Favorite Color To Wear Could Plausibly Be
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when you're talking to a trans person about their identity & the way they view themselves, there comes a point when you really just need to take a step back and say . i will not, and probably never will be able to understand exactly what this person is feeling. i need to accept that, as much as i want to interrogate and question and throw hypotheticals into the air like they're rice at a wedding, i won't understand what they're going through. i just need to trust that they understand themselves enough to make decisions that are good for them.
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darknight3904 · 5 months
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𝕊𝕦𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕣𝕪: ɪɴ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴀ ᴘᴇʀꜰᴇᴄᴛ ʀᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴꜱʜɪᴘ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴍᴀʀᴛᴇꜱᴛ ʙᴏʏ ᴀᴛ ꜱᴄʜᴏᴏʟ ᴏɴʟʏ ꜰᴏʀ ɪᴛ ᴛᴏ ꜰᴀʟʟ ᴀᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴅᴜʀɪɴɢ ᴛʜᴇ 10ᴛʜ ᴀɴɴᴜᴀʟ ʜᴜɴɢᴇʀ ɢᴀᴍᴇꜱ
ᴘᴀʀᴛ ᴛᴡᴏ
𝕎𝕒𝕣𝕟𝕚𝕟𝕘𝕤: ᴀʟʟᴜꜱɪᴏɴꜱ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴇx, ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ ɪꜱ ᴀ ʙᴏᴏʙ ᴍᴀɴ. ʙᴀꜱᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ ʙʏ ᴛᴀʏʟᴏʀ ꜱᴡɪꜰᴛ. ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ʀᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘᴏꜱꜱᴇꜱꜱɪᴠᴇ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴏʀʏᴏ. ᴄʜᴇᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀ ᴍᴏʀᴇ!
You could feel his eyes on you, it had been like this for months. Coriolanus Snow's eyes followed you nearly everywhere you went. From your class presentations to where you sat in the cafeteria with your peers, those strikingly blue eyes were always watching. Arachne had called it "unnerving" and "downright creepy" but what she didn't know was that you loved it. Knowing that you had the smartest boy in the class wrapped around your finger felt empowering, it also helped that you had been in a relationship with said boy for months now.
It had been sudden, the beginnings of the relationship with him. Sejanus was the one who pointed him out to you. Perhaps he was just trying to put in a good word for his friend but before you knew it Coriolanus was bringing you white roses and brushing your hair from your face. He'd present you with little folded pieces of paper, made to look like swans or butterflies and you cherished each one, your desk drawer at home was filled with his gifts. You and Coriolanus had agreed not to walk around the academy flaunting your relationship and opted for a much more discreet version of boyfriend and girlfriend when in public. That promise of secrecy didn't exactly stop hushed gossip and rumors that flew around the school. You'd deny any ideas of dating but you knew so many of your peers saw right through this act. Of course, all this secrecy, just meant he was all the more touchy in private. Even now, as you sat in his lap at your desk, trying to focus on the essay that was due tomorrow.
"It's perfect. You always get good marks anyway."He said, his fingertips dancing around your waist trying to get you to pull your attention from the paper before you.
"Easy to say when you have the highest marks." You pointed out, squirming when his fingers brushed a particularly ticklish spot.
"True, but you've always been a better writer than me. Don't you want to eat some of that food your maid brought in? It smells wonderful." He nodded to the large cart of food that had been sitting in your room, ignored for the past ten minutes.
One thing about your charming boyfriend was that he was always hungry. Coriolanus never turned down any of your suggestions of what to eat and was constantly eager to try whatever your family's cook whipped up when he was visiting you. His explanation for this constant hunger was that the Snow's cook was simply terrible but they couldn't fire him since their grandmother loved him so.
"I guess we can eat." You sigh placing your essay neatly into a folder, and standing to let him up from your desk chair.
You carefully helped your boyfriend place some of the food on your oversized bed. Another thing about him was that he highly enjoyed eating while sitting on your bed with you, of course, you couldn't blame him your bed was irresistibly soft.
"Do you honestly think that Arachne has the best hair in the class?" He laughed
"It's always pinned so neatly! Not to mention how her hair bows always compliment her makeup!" You point out
" I personally believe that there's another who has the best hair." He says, popping a grape into his mouth
"Oh really, who? And don't say Sejanus or Festus because we both know you'd be lying." You laugh, taking another bite of the chicken on your plate.
"It is obviously me." Coriolanus says "Have you seen my curls?"
He's dead serious about the statement but you can't help but laugh.
"What's so funny?" He asks, reaching over to poke at your stomach as you giggle at him
"You're just so confident, it's kind of funny." You smile
"Oh please, you act like my looks aren't the whole reason you were interested in me in the first place." He points out.
"That is not fair." You groan, knowing it is true. Coriolanus' good looks had definitely helped him get the girl. It didn't help that his words were equally as charming.
"Don't worry, I know your hundreds of ex-boyfriends don't compare to me." He smirks, pulling you to his side
"It's not hundreds." You snort, sure, you dated quite a few boys in the past but, so far none of them have ever held a candle to your Coryo.
Coriolanus found himself fully enraptured by your presence. From the way you'd double knot your shoes to the soft cherry red lipstick, you wore when he'd take you out on dates that he made sure were cheap yet incredibly tasteful. He felt incredibly reckless whenever he was with you, the way he'd find himself blurting out the craziest things in your presence was simply uncanny. Even now as you sat, awaiting him in bed, he knew you were going to somehow drag some crazy statements out of his mouth even when he swore he wouldn't blab on about god only knows what.
"Hope you didn't miss me too much." He teases when he exits your bathroom, slipping under the covers with you
"Don't get cocky." You laugh, pulling the covers up to hide your chest.
Coriolanus hated that you did that after sex. He had just been inside you, and yet you insisted on hiding what was probably his favorite part of you under the silky sheets that adorned your bed. Sure, he wanted to respect your boundaries and all, but he also wanted to be able to use your chest as his personal pillow.
"Stop staring at them." You scold, trying to wiggle away from his arms that were wrapping around you under the blankets.
"I can't help it, they're so soft." He says, burying his face in your neck, inhaling your scent.
"You're so strange." You laugh, running a hand through those wonderfully curly locks
"You love it." He sighed into your skin.
Months later, one day before the 10th Annual Hunger Games
You couldn't believe it. Coriolanus had blown you off. You had planned a date, a simple one really just a little picnic with some of his favorite foods and he never showed up. He had been acting strange ever since reaping day but when he had agreed earlier to your picnic idea you had been elated. You initially had thought he was just nervous since he got stuck with the District 12 girl but now you could see why he was acting so oddly. The moment you saw him standing in that damn cage at the zoo next to her, holding her hand, you knew exactly what was going on, he was interested in a girl who would be dead in days. His songbird was pretty, she'd give him that but what the hell did Lucy Gray have to offer your Coryo that you didn't already possess? Sure, she was a good singer that was obvious but other than that what did she have? Certainly not riches or manners to win your boy over and yet she was doing it anyway, she was singing her songs and casting a spell over your Coriolanus. You wondered if she was even truly interested in him, what if she was just trying to survive and Coryo was falling for it like an idiot?
It took quite a bit of self-control not to toss something at his head when he entered your room.
"I'm sorry...I know I missed your picnic." He said, crossing the room quickly
"You're only sorry for missing my picnic?" You ask, not rising from your seat
"What are you talking about? I'm here to apologize for standing you up. I was with Lucy Gray she needed food and I wanted to talk to her about strategy for the games." He said
"Really? You were talking strategy with her?" You roll your eyes, pointing to the television in your room which was paused on the broadcast Lucky Flickerman had done earlier that afternoon. Lucky was the focus of the shot but in the background, anyone with eyes could see Coriolanus Snow and Lucy Gray overly close to one another.
"I don't think talking strategy requires wiping her tears for her Coryo." You say
"She's just scared, I felt bad for her." He lies
"So you were just comforting her?" You ask
"Yes. Nothing more." He says
Jealousy reared its ugly head and set a bitter taste in your mouth. Did he honestly expect you to believe that?
"You're a man of many talents, Coryo but you're not a very good liar." You point out before clicking a button on your remote to show him the next thing you want him to see.
You want to laugh at the way his eyes widen at what you're showing him.
"She kisses you here, Coryo. I'm sure you would've continued too if you weren't so caught up in your own desires for that Plinth Prize." You point out, letting the footage play of him and Lucy Gray in the dark at the zoo which had to have been not even an hour ago.
"Are you spying on me?" He asks, offended
"You forget my mother's position in the Capitol, Coryo. She pioneered the advanced cameras The Hunger Games uses each year. Did you honestly think that there wouldn't be cameras watching the Tributes through the night?" You laugh
"So you're watching me?" He asks, clearly upset that you caught him red-handed
"You're the one skipping out on a relationship that is more important than anything that Songbird could offer." You coldly say
"You're crazy," Coriolanus says backing away from you and your camera footage
"You're one to talk, Coryo. Have you looked in the mirror recently?" You laugh, standing up
"Jealousy isn't a good look on you." He says
"And cheating isn't a good one on you." You counter
"That wasn't cheating." He says
"Really? And what do you call kissing another person who isn't in your relationship called?" You ask
"I don't need to explain my actions to you." He says
"You don't have to." You say "I hope she's worth all your trouble, considering she could die tomorrow."
"She'll win." He assures himself
"If she doesn't I'm sure you'll be quite sad, given you're so taken with her." You say, walking over to your desk where a vase of white roses sits, he gave them to you the day of the reaping. You pull them from the vase and walk towards him.
"What are you doing?" He asks as you get closer
"Returning your gifts." You say sharply before tossing them at him "Give them back to Grandma'am I'm sure she'll be glad to have them back in her greenhouse."
"You're acting insane." He says holding the roses gently
"I'm not. I'm just responding to everything you've done." You say coldly
"You know all those past boyfriends of yours, one of them said you were insane. I should have listened." He says, pointing an accusing finger at you
"Oh please. I'm insane?" You laugh
"Yeah, you are. And this," He points to himself and then you "Is over."
You watch as Coriolanus tosses his roses on the floor before storming out of your room, and presumably out of your family's home. From your window that overlooks the front of the house, you see him cast one more glance at you from the front yard.
"Oh, Coryo, you'll come running back."
Part 2
In case anyone reading this is wondering I do not hate Lucy Gray in any way so don't come after me.
The teaser for Part Two can be found here
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kneelingshadowsalome · 10 months
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I Never Missed You 1/3 (Bodyguard!Ghost x F!Reader)
Word count: 3.5 k
Tags/warnings: 18+ only. Romance, eventual smut, fluff, light angst, banter, pining, flirting, minor injuries, major character death, HFN ending. Lady/Knight dynamic. Unequal pairing trope. Bodyguard AU. Reader is a rich bitch (how else could she afford a PPO?)
Summary: 1/3 You hire a bodyguard to protect you and hunt down the one who's been sent to take your life. This man was your lawyer's first recommendation, and you never even looked through his file because you had better things to do. But it soon turns out that this man – this Simon Riley – is very talented... Talented in driving you crazy.
A/N: A three part fic based on this request. The first chapter features banter and pining. If you're here for smut, stay tuned. There is an entire chapter of it coming right up.
Your lawyer says it would be a good idea. He even dares to look at you from under his brow like you're a child who doesn't know what's good for her.
And you don't.
Because that's exactly how you feel like: a grown woman who's stunted to a kid, now being supervised by adults. 
The bodyguard they assigned you - the one you accepted because he was your lawyer's first choice - is exactly the broad, brooding type you have always imagined bodyguards to be like.
But he's not wearing sunglasses, and he's not wearing a suit. He says the point of a bodyguard is that they don't look like a bodyguard. 
The first thing you actually pay attention to is the milky-white eyelashes. Only days after you hear that this man rarely shows his face. You were given a file on him, but you never peeked inside it because you were pissed that such drastic measures had to be taken in the first place. You just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time.
Now you pry it from the pile of papers you buried it into, open it, and the first - and only - photo you see is a perfect portrayal of what Death looks like. 
He's the Reaper himself when adorned with that human skull. Keen but emotionless eyes stare from the pits of the sockets to somewhere in the distance, but that look is a stare into the past. The photo raises thousands of questions, and not only the need to know why this man prefers to wear human bones when he's shooting people.
Because apparently, that’s what he used to do before he became a bodyguard. He's buff, that you already know. But in that picture, he looks even more packed, with what you suppose is a bullet vest beneath that blouse. He’s holding an ugly-looking gun – not a pistol, but a rifle of some sort. The gear on him no doubt weighs something close to 60 pounds. His sleeves are rolled up and expose the crisscross veins on his forearms along with war-ugly, crude tattoos, and you swallow. 
Were you really looking at a picture of a barbaric soldier like it was some peculiar soft porn now?
You flip the file closed and toss it on the table, rather disgusted with yourself.
The next time you see him, you look into those brown eyes a moment longer. That stoic stare is the only thing you recognize as that of the man in the picture. That, along with his size, although photos really can't convey how this brooding grunt makes you feel: small and insignificant. Nor do they illustrate how the man looks like he’s the most graceful bull in a china shop when moving inside your house.
You suppose he grew up poor, the way he looks at your furniture, your half-a-mile bookshelf, and the latest art piece you got last month in your living room. He's judging you. 
You're posh. And clueless. And a child.
And this brute lives with you, for now. He's placed downstairs until the target is neutralized. And he's not just a bodyguard: he's hunting the hunter while you're the bait.
It should give you a thrill; your friend giggles when you two gossip about him over a lunch while he's standing only a few feet away. But this situation does not give you a thrill. It just makes you pissed.
And it's not just the situation, it's this... Simon Riley who makes you pissed.
Couldn't they teach manners, some conversation skills at the bodyguard school or wherever the hell this pale, emotionless Hulk came from?
You recheck his file and snoop some more details about his past. He didn't go to bodyguard school (of course he didn't); he used to work for some PMC. The brute's a cold-blooded, cold-hearted mercenary. To put it more eloquently, he's an elite soldier of some tactical unit. But all of that is classified, as is almost every other detail about him. The only thing you are left with is that he's British through and through, but you can already tell that by his accent - the thick Mancunian that makes your stomach and heart flip.
It's gruff – of course it's gruff – and sometimes chafes your ears like they were being grated with the softest grater. You find yourself thinking about him while you're in the shower, when your fingers start to drift and wander.
And for the love of god, you are not thinking about that accent and those eyes while you're masturbating. You're not going to mourn the fact that he never rolls his sleeves when he's with you. When he's at work.
"I saw your file," you start to chitchat over breakfast one day.
"I reckon."
He won't even touch the coffee you poured him but proceeds to drink almost all the tea. The delicate china looks miniature in his hands as he pours the Earl Grey into his cup. The cups are dainty, too – this savage would prefer a large, black mug, perhaps, from which to gulp his tea.
"So. What made you become a soldier?"
"Joined the SAS when I was 17."
And another thing he won't do is look at you when you speak. No manners at all in this man, only rough, sharp edges. He sits as far from you as he can, at the other end of the table, as if you were in a meeting. Or a war council.
"That's not what I asked."
"I know."
You roll your eyes. Conversation skills, god. Just give this man at least some charm…
"I'm going to do some shopping," you declare. "You can stay here."
Finally, he raises his stare. It's full of tired distaste.
"Nah. That's not how this works."
You rise from the table, gracefully and with a neutral face, indicating that you are an adult and won't be needing a babysitter at a store.
"Lady." 
The command is dark and stops you before you have taken one step from the table. It's a slur, almost.
He rises from the table too, and you almost feel sorry, noticing he hasn't yet finished his toast.
"You hired me. And I'm gonna do my job."
He looks big and broad, like a beautiful storm, with that piercing stare and the most alluring lashes you have ever seen on a man. Your voice turns into a meek, pitched attempt to reason with a giant.
"...I'm just going shopping."
His head tilts with a mock: you're only a child in his eyes. 
"Then let's go shopping."
…......…......
Sitting next to this giant in a taxi must be a hilarious-looking scene. A charming, vibrant lady and a sullen, intimidating Theseus – what a pair.
You've also never been this close to him. The man always sits with a wide spread. One heavy thigh almost touches your knees, which you have turned towards him for some unfathomable reason. You were taught to sit with knees closely set together, and that’s what you’re trying to do now: make yourself as small and feminine as possible. It only accentuates this man's size compared to yours. There's a pile of shopping bags between you two, and your gaze is directed outside the window, but you can feel his presence like there's a thrumming monolith beside you.
And he's always dressed in black. You kind of enjoyed how you two looked at the store: you in your heels and a pearl white suit, he in black, tactical ripstop and boots. You wouldn't define the man well-dressed… but he is sharply dressed in his own field, that's for sure. Even a commoner like you could see that.
He had complained about your clothes. White draws too much attention and makes for a bigger target. You had brushed him off with a scoff. You’re not going to change the way you dress because of this.
"You're from Manchester, right?"
You're only trying to make the journey home more enjoyable, but feel like you're snooping again, this time from the man himself. The less you know about Simon Riley, the more you want to learn who he is. It is only natural to get a little curious when his file barely had two paragraphs and a photo. You suppose even that single picture was taken and given forward with reluctance. 
And the only thing you learn is that small talk is a completely foreign concept to this man.
"You're quite the Sherlock," he mutters with that fat accent that gave him away the minute you two shook hands. You Sherlock about some more, look at the left hand that rests on his thigh.
There's no ring. Not even a tan line. He must be lonely: no relationship could stand working hours like these.
"Do you still live there?"
"...No."
"Do you miss the place?"
"No."
The short answers are guttural and spoken from the back of his throat. You don't know if he's doing it on purpose, or if this Simon is like this with everyone. He's not annoyed, though, not the way you're beginning to be.
"Aren't you a chatty one…" you mumble while watching cloudy London pass by. You figured he might hear it, and perhaps that was your purpose, even if your voice was barely a whisper.
"I'm not here to talk. Ma'am."
…......…......
You are told to stay away from the windows. The dinner table is moved so no one can aim at your head through a glass. And even then, most curtains must be closed at all times. 
He goes through doors first, and advises against going out at all. You get a list of things you should take into consideration if you do go out.
And you’re not going to give in to fear.
You simply take different routes to your friends and family, have lunches at different restaurants than usual. He says you should get an armored car, but you don’t have a license. Of course your brooding bodyguard could drive, but what will you do with some armored tank after you're finally through this thing?
What's far more interesting is that it turns out this Simon Riley is a smoker.
Disgusting, you think at first, then think about him all sweaty and grimy after some gunfight, reaching for a cig, curling those thick fingers around a pure-white coffin nail. No, wait – he had gloves in that picture; he wouldn't bother to take them off before he smoked, he would just lean on his gun and on some crumbling wall and sigh from the joy of being alive, of being bloodied and dirty and victorious before taking a long drag from his cigarette.
Ugh.
Reluctantly you agree that perhaps there is an odd charm to this man after all. Either that, or then you are in need of some serious therapy.
Breakfasts are torturingly quiet with Simon, and you can hear the slow roll of eyes every time you make plans to go to a party or an art gallery.
Once, a zipper gets stuck and you have to ask him for help. It’s mortifying, and he doesn’t say a word, only mocks you with his eyes as you turn around for him to place a warm hand on your hip and another on your back to pull up the zipper you had fought to reach and drag up by yourself for at least 10 minutes.
A week passes, and he’s buried in work, not only because he’s guarding your body 24/7, but because he’s trying to locate the hitman. The fact that Simon Riley is technically speaking a hitman too - to think that you have hired a killer - is something you don’t have the mental strength to delve into right now.
"Found the one who's hunting you."
Another file is dropped before you at the end of the week. The man marches into your office like there's no door there at all. Doesn't even bother to knock. 
This isn't what you meant when you politely told him to make himself home…
You roll the glass of water on your temple and sigh. The file reveals another photo, this time of a man who looks like an executioner.
"Goes by the name König," he says and clasps his hands over his crotch while taking a wide stance in front of your desk. "Austrian war criminal. Skilled with knives… Likes to torture people first."
Nice. More brutes.
"Why are you telling me this?" 
You're tired, there's a headache approaching, and you really don't care to go over some details about a professional lunatic killer right now. But Simon Riley - codenamed Ghost, you’ve lately learned - looks down at you like a storm cloud over a carefree meadow.
"Because you clearly don't understand the danger you're in." 
He adds "Ma'am" as a footnote. Purposely forgotten...
And you wish he would forget that silly, overly courteous term.
"Well–" you sigh your frustration in the air between you two, then realize that perhaps you're being treated like a child because you behave like one. "What are you going to do about this man...?"
"Gonna kill him," he simply shrugs, the eternal, distant look in those eyes gaining a smug tone to them. 
He enjoys this. Enjoys killing, but what's even worse, enjoys seeing how his ruthlessness makes you shift uncomfortably in your chair. Or perhaps he just likes shocking you with that file with an image of a lyncher in it. You know perfectly well that you're in trouble and under threat. That's what you've tried to forget, but no one lets you forget.
Simon takes a deep breath before placing his humble petition before you.
"Ma’am. I'm gonna need your help."
And nothing in this man is humble. Even though he rarely speaks and never shows his talents, not to talk of showing off, he reeks of pride and testosterone.
You set the glass on the table and straighten the file to align with the leather pad on your desk. Your fingers are not trembling. Yet.
"What do you mean?" 
He gives a hoarse laugh. The sound drills straight to your core and starts to bloom there. You realize you have never seen him smile before. And he's not smiling now: the short laugh is just a dark chuckle that mainly stays inside his chest; it only makes those stocky shoulders rise and fall.
"Not like that," he looks down at you with a tad of mercy. "You're gonna serve as bait."
"Isn't… that what I've been the whole time?"
"Yeah. But this time, we're gonna lure him in."
The way he talks makes your thighs rub together without your consent. You wonder what it would feel like if you were trapped between that solid chest and a wall, what it would be like if those hands woke you up with a calloused caress of a thigh.
You don't quite understand the difference between bait and a lure but find yourself willing to do whatever you can to help him. Help Simon…
"Sure... I'll help you," you say as if this man wasn't on your payroll.
"That's the least you could do."
That barely hidden bite in his dry retort doesn't escape you. This man's audacity buries whatever odd want you have started to feel for him and replaces it with searing, womanly fury. 
He could be a little more sensitive.
You're the one who has a target on their back. You're the one who fears going to sleep at night and feels lucky they're alive come dawn. If he wasn't so crude and uncaring, you would've asked him to sleep in the same room with you from the start. But he has to be a brute, has to follow and mock you with those ink blot eyes at every turn.
You rise from the chair when he turns and walks toward the door. It's almost a snappy jump, an attempt to reclaim your power. You're sore and thoroughly peeved.
"I never wanted this," you tell him with an annoying timbre in your tone. He stops right before the door but doesn't turn.
"Neither did I."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Could be somewhere warmer with no damsels giving me their cheek."
The BDU blouse you saw in that picture was yellow, burnt yellow. Desert wear… He wants to be in a hot desert with a cold gun in his hand. Dropped straight from some plane, working alone, in a place where damsels aren't giving him their cheek. Where there are no damsels at all. 
You're relatively sure there is no Mrs. Riley. No woman could stand this man.
"Then go somewhere warmer," you snap, almost stomp your heel on the soft carpet. This man is simply intolerable. The way he never reacts to anything makes you want to throw things at him. 
He must be trained to be so calm, but you're not. You're used to making men a little stupid and flustered. You're used to men eating out of your hand. He's not behaving at all like he's supposed to. Simon Riley is just a mountain without emotion.
He turns with that eternal, downgrading look in his eyes. There's a flash of amusement there, too.
Soddy bastard…
"Nah. Not until I've done my job."
His voice is warm now; the gruff and gravel make way to a smoothness that goes directly to your knees. Your lips part, and his eyes fall on your mouth just before he lifts his chin a hair of an inch.
"Your job…" you breathe, too furious to even rage or shout. 
Your fucking job.
Why did you even want this job if it's so–
"Yeah. My job. Some people got one."
You have to take support from the table with your fingertips. 
"Excuse me?"
There's the tiniest curve at the corner of his mouth before he takes his leave.
"Good night, ma'am."
…......…......
The next day, you start the breakfast by apologizing. 
You barely slept that night, first because of this man's utter nerve, then because your wrath eventually cooled down into a bleeding consciousness of how you must look in his eyes. 
He has accepted this job, something different from what he usually does, for reasons unknown to you. He might not be on some faraway battlefield where bullets fly past, but this is no less risky. The picture he showed you, the file on König, haunted your restless sleep last night – when you finally did get some sleep. 
You have been running around like everything’s normal when it’s not. The man’s just trying to do his job. 
And you're the one who hired him. Not your lawyer.
"I want to make peace," you coo while spreading some jam on toast. You expect Simon to finally melt a little. You might even get a smile. You secretly hope your reward is that this brute turns into a tamed lap dog you can feed some treats every now and then. 
The situation is thrilling: the beefiest man you have ever seen is going to kill someone for you. Even if he's being paid to do so, he is prepared to die for you. There's something incredibly sexy about that.
But there is silence at the other end of the table. Only the crunchy sounds of toast getting sugar on top can be heard.
"That so?" 
He doesn't sound like he's melting. He doesn't sound at all domesticated. He only sounds more and more amused.
"Yes. I'm happy that you're here," you put the toast down and turn to look at him with angel eyes.
He laughs. When he stops, he looks you up and down, then laughs some more, a silent, shoulder-shaking chuckle.
"I'm… I'm serious," you hurry to add. "I mean it. I haven't been treating you the way I should–"
"That's for sure."
You see more warmth in those eyes. But it's not because of your humble apology.
His eyes are trekking down the neckline of your blouse, and to your horror, you notice – feel – how one of the top buttons has opened, revealing much more than just some skin. You're pretty sure he gets an ample view of the fuchsia bra you're wearing underneath.
If you reach for that button now, you underline that he's not supposed to look, even if it's your mistake that you're so obscenely exposed. If you close it now, you tell him he's not allowed to look. And that's not entirely true.
"Will you forgive me?"
You feel like you're offering peace, or at least a truce, with more than just that peepy question. Because your breasts swell inside that blouse. They rise and fall with your breaths, your nipples grow hard from that look that stays down a bit longer before drifting back up. 
"There's nothing to forgive," he says, voice dropping a note or two. 
"Good," you swallow. The following sentence comes out so weakly that it's almost a whisper. "After all, I hired you."
"Ain't that the truth."
The dim glint in those eyes still holds you as a prisoner, and his tea is growing cold.
"Are we going shopping today?"
"No," you utter, dreading the next inevitable question.
"What then?"
"I… I have a yoga class."
"Of course you do."
…......…......
Taglist: @cumikering
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buckyalpine · 7 months
Note
hey shay! what do you think about steve and sam betting that bucky cannot date the newest avenger for like two months without falling in love with her. and, of course, he accepts, and asks her out, all in the hopes of winning.
(plot twist: he is a dumbass and a fucking simp because he falls hella hard in like the first month. she’s basically his soulmate and his dream girl. absolutely perfect. he dreams of their marriage and children and cannot wait to make it a reality. and steve and sam are beyond happy for him, and the three decide never to speak of the bet ever again.)
but fast forward to their first anniversary together, and she finds out that the only reason why bucky ever paid any attention to her, and asked her out, was because of the bet. and it leaves her absolutely heartbroken and destroyed, to the point that she debates asking for a transfer. because of course the only way the legendary sergeant james buchanan barnes would ever notice her is because of a bet. pfft! how big of an idiot she is!
(and we see bucky do some seriously grovel. because he cannot lose the love of his life. his baby. his everything. his sunshine in the dark. the reason for his existence.)
maybe steve and sam join in to help him? because they adore her as well, and they know how much bucky needs her.
YESSSS YES YESSSSS. I am here for the angst and the fluff, I love this because we all love a break up make up situation.
"100 bucks"
"No"
"Okay, 150"
"Why are we doing this"
"200"
"...why"
"Because we know for a fact, there's no way you'd be able to date the new recruit for two full months-
"-without falling in love, you can't actually fall for her"
Sam and Steve looked at Bucky intently while the soldier cocked an eyebrow, the three of them lounging in the common room after a morning briefing to meet their newest team mate.
"You're both willing to pay me $200 just to date y/n without falling in love?" Bucky deadpanned staring at his two best friends, both with matching shit eating grins.
"What's wrong Barnes, scared you'll get your wittle heart broken?" Sam egged him on only to be met with a cocky smirk from the brunette.
"That's not a problem because I don't date" Bucky shrugged, happy to win easy money if all he had to do was ask the new girl out and date her for a bit without actually catching feelings.
He was never really the relationship type; the charm he used to have in the 40's was slowly making its way back and it was perfect for when he needed a quick fix. Long term was never his thing and he wasn't about to start now but he also wasn't going to turn down a bet when his friends seemed so keen.
Besides, his pride was on the line and it was only two months.
"So let me get this straight. I date her for 2 months-"
"No falling in love with y/n"
"-no falling in love and you pay me?"
Sam and Steve nodded while Bucky got up, shaking their hands to seal the deal. He already mapped out a plan to ask the new girl out, mentally deciding on an easy break up speech for when the inventible comes.
"Two months white panther"
"Wolf"
"Two months"
"Easy"
****
Bucky knew he was screwed after the first date. Just the first date. When he first asked her out, she gave him a shy giggle and he knew he wanted to hear that sound again. And again. And again. She gave him a little nod, shuffling on her feet and for a moment, Bucky regained his confidence. There was no way he'd have anything in common with someone so shy and quiet, winning the best was going to be a breeze.
Until she came down in a sun dress, ready to go out for for their date and she smelled like peaches and cream and there was that fucking giggle again when he got ice cream on his nose when they shared a sundae. Her hands were so soft when she swiped her thumb over his little mess, cleaning him off with a tissue while he blinked.
"You're so adorable, sarge" She gave him a bashful smile and his cheeks couldn't have possibly blushed more, his heart beating strangely fast. He wasn't really too sure what to do, usually it was him making girls turn into puddles of shy messes but her he was, more tongue tied that ever.
He wasn't sure what it was.
Maybe it was the fact that she asked him about the 40's, something he rarely got to talk about. Maybe it was the way she listened to him intently while he got lost in his memories, recalling happier times, the both of them laughing over stories about scrawny Steve before the serum. He'd been on plenty of dates before but none of them were like this.
(It didn't matter though, his main goal never left his sight...not really)
He asked her out again and he immediately put his hand to his stomach when she showed up in her workout clothes since he'd offered to train with her before their scheduled date. He'd fully intended to take control over the situation, gain the upper hand again by making her all sweet and shy with his subtle touches but nope.
Here he was with butterflies dancing madly around his tummy when she smiled brightly as soon as she walked through the gym doors; his train of thought long gone when as she dropped her towel beside his. He flipped her with ease, her much smaller form blinking up at him as he caged her under him. He didn't even have it in him to throw her a wink or a flirty smirk, giving her soft puppy eyes instead and helping her to her feet.
To his own surprise, he didn't even try to make a move to get her in bed.
He couldn't.
Not when he was genuinely enjoying conversation with her. Not when she looked at him with such trust and care not to break her heart. Not after she'd confided in him that she felt safe with him after about a month of dating. Bucky's mind, which was usually filled with filth and fucking was now filled with thoughts of her in a pretty white dress, walking down the aisle, ready to say I do. He thought about how adorable their babies would look, how beautiful she'd look pregnant, she was his dream girl, how he couldn't wait for the day it'd all really happen, he was falling in love for the first time in his life-
He. Was. Screwed.
****
"M'gonna marry her"
"What"
"What?" Bucky blinked back at his friends with wide eyes, not realizing he'd said that out loud; the three of them sitting around the living room again since you had gone out for a girls night with Nat and Wanda.
"Come again, what was that?" Sam grinned, sitting up straighter from where he'd been sprawled out on the floor while Steve nudged Bucky with his shoulder.
"Nothing" Bucky mumbled but the blush on his cheeks spread up to his ears.
"AWWWW" Sam howled while Bucky buried his face in his hands, "BUCKY HAS A CRUSH"
"You like her, huh punk" Steve grinned, not needing verbal confirmation from his best friend; both him and Sam saw the way Bucky started falling for you from day 1, not standing a chance of winning their bet.
"I do" Bucky smiled shyly, not bothering with a snarky retort, not when he'd fallen so hard for you the second he heard your laugh. No one bothered to bring up the bet again, the entire thing long forgotten. Sam and Steve couldn't have been happier when they saw Bucky's eyes light up every time he looked at you. You'd tumbled into the living room along with Nat and Wanda behind you, giggling and falling into the soldiers lap, nuzzling into him like a kitten between tipsy kisses.
Sam could've sworn he saw Steve flick away a tear, the both of them watching Bucky grin like a little kid with the biggest crush, melting into a puddle instantly with you in his arms.
"Hey Sarge" You gave him a hazy smile, sighing contently when he kissed your forehead and scooped you right up, holding you to his chest. "Missed you"
"Let's get you to bed babygirl" Bucky whispered, carefully taking care of you, changing you into one of his Henley's and completing your skin care routine since you couldn't in your drunken state. He kissed you good night, pulling the covers up and holding you close to him the entire night.
Nothing compared to the soft puppy he became whenever you were near him and it wasn't exactly a well kept secret. No one failed to notice the way he was head over heels in love with you. With each passing day Bucky loved you more, doing everything in his power to keep you happy, to protect you with his entire heart, there's was no way, absolutely no way, he'd every do anything to hurt you or lose you.
Ever.
One Year Later
You stretched, blinking at the sun that peeked through the curtains, feeling extra warm, cuddled up with you boyfriend who was the human form of a furnace. You were in no hurry to get out of bed, burying your face into his bare chest instead, breathing in his scent, humming contently when his thick arms wrapped you impossibly closer.
"Happy anniversary my love" Bucky whispered, his eyes still closed, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. He couldn't believe a full year had gone by since you'd stolen his heart. A full year filled with kisses and giggles and softness. There wasn't a day that had gone by where Bucky wasn't a complete simp for you (he'd picked out a wedding ring within month three and had it hidden somewhere in his room by month 6).
"Happy anniversary handsome" You kissed his chest where his heart beat steadily, giggling when he pinned you under him, attacking you with a flurry of feathery light kisses, "Bucky stop!" You squealed with laugher as he wrapped you tightly and let his scruffy cheeks tickle your shoulders, the both of you tangled in his sheets, having a lazy morning.
"I love you" He whispered into your hair, sneakily slipping his hands up your over sized shirt, his cool metal fingers stroking down your spine making you shiver. "So much, bella"
"I love you, Jamie" Your cheeks heated up and the sweet name he had just for you, only reluctantly getting out of bed after Nat had practically dragged you out of bed to go shopping. You didn't want to do anything but cuddle with Bucky all day but the red head didn't care, happily evading your privacy to barge into the room and whisk you away, throwing back a wink when Bucky mouthed a silent thank you.
Bucky had planned out the perfect anniversary, something he'd thought out for weeks. The compound would be empty so it would just be the two of you; he'd cook dinner himself, have some songs playing from the 40's with a juke box he'd managed to get his hands on and spent the entire night letting you know how deeply in love he was with you. He didn't care how cheesy it was, buying out an entire florist shop to cover the room and terrace with your favorite flowers, having some suspended from the high ceilings along with petals strewn on the floor.
He'd pull out all the rom com stops for you, giving everyone a task to keep you busy so he could set up for the night. Nat had been tasked with keeping you away until evening, only bringing you back in time for dinner. Sam and Steve spent the whole day hanging and putting up flowers, lighting candles and listening to Bucky ramble about how much he adored you. Tony worked on lighting and sound, tinkering with the music and setting it up outside.
To say you were surprised was an understatement. Nat had blind folded you as soon as you got back and instructed you to put on the dress that had been laid out in your room. You had no idea what she was talking about until you found a floor length gown along with a note sitting on top of your bed.
See you at 8 tonight my bella
Happy 1 year Anniversary,
Yours forever,
JBB x
You didn't waste a second, hopping into the shower, doing your makeup and spraying on your perfume that you knew he loved so much. You slipped the dress on along with some heels before making your way down to the now dimmed lights, the soft glow of candles warming the room.
You gasped as soon as your eyes landed on Bucky, standing head to toe in all black, a dashing smile on his face. He strode over to you, cupping your cheeks in his hands, pecking your lips sweetly, the scent of his cologne already making you woozy.
"You did all this for me?" You blinked back tears, his thumbs swiping them away .
"Anything for you doll" Bucky whispered, pulling you in for another kiss before leading you to the garden; a trail of rose petals covering the floor to the back terrace. Fairly lights twinkled, mixed in with the tiny stars that dotted the night sky; you didn't bother with sitting in your own seat, sitting in Bucky's lap instead while your both sipped on champagne.
It didn't take long for him to swoop you off your feet so he could sway with you instead, music playing softly in the background while he whispered sweet nothings, only sitting down again so he could feed you the dessert he'd spend the whole afternoon making for you.
"I can't believe you did all this for me Bucky" You said sincerely, holding his face in your hands, gazing into his soft blue eyes, "You're perfect my Jamie"
"You're my perfect gift doll"
"Oh! I have to get you your gift!" You realized you'd left it in your room between a spoon of chocolate cake Bucky was feeding you, hopping up from his lap to get it. You scurried off to your room, giddy over the present you'd put together for Bucky, the whole gift taking months of planning to get everything to come in time. You rummaged through your closet, grabbing the carefully wrapped box and returning to the hall, excited to see his face when he opened his present.
You passed by Steve's room stopping dead in your tracks at the words you heard, your feet suddenly unable to move.
"Can you believe this all started over betting he'd never fall for y/n?" Sam snorted, sitting on the couch in Steve's room, the both of them munching on the scraps of chocolate cake and sipping on beer while watching a movie.
"All over 200 bucks, remember he was so sure of himself"
You felt like you'd swallowed cotton, your mouth dry, finding it difficult to swallow. You wanted to turn back time, wishing you'd never heard that conversation, or maybe it was all a misunderstanding, Bucky would never do that, not your Bucky.
"Didn't you tell him he'd only have to date her for 2 months?"
"2 months and 200 dollars, terminator shook on it"
"He even had a break up speech ready"
You gripped tightly onto the present, dashing away from the room, unable to bear more of the conversation. Your heart was hammering out of your chest as you shakily made your way back to Bucky, it just couldn't be true.
Could it?
Did he really only ask you out because his friends made a bet with him?
Bucky smiled when he saw you return, opening his arms for you to slink onto his lap again. His smile disappeared when you kept your eyes down, fumbling with the gift in your hand, staying rooted in place in front of him instead of cuddling up with him like you always did.
"Baby? Is everything okay?" Bucky got up from his seat, carefully making his way over to you. He tipped your face up, surprised to find your eyes wet with unshed tears, the corners of your lips quivering with how hard you were trying to keep from crying.
"You-you promise you'll be honest with me?" You tried to keep your voice from cracking, afraid everything you'd imagined with Bucky would come crashing down if what you heard was true.
"Of course" Bucky felt his heart race seeing your glassy eyes and broken expression, what could have possibly happened in the few seconds you were gone "Bella, what's wrong"
"Did you only ask me out because of a bet?" You tried to keep from sniffling, your heart breaking at the guilt that immediately spread across Bucky's face.
"Doll, I-
"So it's true?" You whimpered, stepping away from the man you loved so much, feeling a whirlwind of emotions, the gift you clutched onto slipping from your grip and onto the floor, "It was just a bet with Sam and Steve?"
"Baby, please let me explain-" Bucky wanted nothing more than to reach out and wipe away the tears he caused, his own streaming down his cheeks when you moved further away from him.
"Please don't" You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself, not wanting to feel his touch you knew you'd instantly melt into. "Just don't James"
Bucky was ready to drop to his knees and beg for forgiveness, beg for you to call him all the sweet names reserved just for him but you dashed back into the compound, slapping your hand over your mouth to muffle your sobs.
"Sweetheart wait, please don't go, just let me explain baby, I love you so much" Bucky trailed after you, quickly swiping his dampened cheeks, catching you in the elevator just before it closed. "Y/n, I love you doll, I'm sorry, it started that way but-
"It's not your fault" You quickly wiped away the new wave of tears that stung your eyes, desperately pushing the button to take you to your room faster, "I-I should've known you wouldn't have been into me in the first place"
"Y/n, that's not true sweetheart, don't say that baby, please"
"I thought you really liked me, I-I didn't know someone had to pay you to date me"
You felt stupid, ridiculous, ashamed, how did you ever think someone like Bucky, the handsome ladies man from day one, would suddenly be into you, some random new trainee turned avenger. You weren't special, nothing about you stood out from others, there was no reason for him to give you attention.
It all made sense now, your heart splitting into two, biting hard on your lip to keep your cries down, you couldn't believe how stupid you'd been to think he actually liked you from the start.
"No baby, you had me from day one-"
"P-please don't l-lie to m-me" You hiccupped, making a bee line straight to you room as soon as the elevator doors opened, not looking back once. You locked your door before Bucky could catch up, ignoring his persistent soft knocks, begging for you to give him a chance to explain.
"Y/n, bella, please, open the door sweetheart, I love you, I promise truly love you so much, I'm so sorry baby, I need to talk to you, please" Bucky sniffled, his forehead pressed to your door in defeat, now letting the tears fall freely. He stayed rooted in place, slumping down with his head between his knees, running his hands through his short locks in frustration. The only thing he cared about was making you happy and he was the one who screwed it up.
You clutched onto your sheets, trembling as sobs wracked your body, thinking back to all the moments you thought were so sweet, moments where you thought you were both falling in love, now realizing they were nothing more than a ploy to get $200.
You remembered your first date, thinking about how cute Bucky looked with a tiny dollop of ice cream on his perfect nose, how nervous you were to swipe it off, your heart racing when you told him he looked adorable. It took every fiber of your very being to muster the courage to do that but it had meant nothing to him.
You had been stupid to think he liked you too when he asked you out again; you remembered the way your entire body felt like it had been lit on fire when he had you pinned you under him, growing bashfully shy when he helped you up onto your feet, everything a part of his plan to eventually dump you.
You felt ridiculous. You were not gorgeous like Natasha or enhanced like Wanda. What made you think the very Sergeant James Barnes would have his eye on you of all people.
You should have known.
-
"Do you hear that?" Steve paused the movie, hearing a muffled cry from the corridor, his brows furrowing at the sniffles that followed. Sam nodded with a frown, both men getting up and peering into the hallway, surprised to find the super soldier sitting against your door, eyes and nose red from crying.
"Bucky?" Steve was by his best friends side in an instant, kneeling before him, helping him up to onto his feet.
"What happened, where's y/n" Sam blinking hearing crying from inside your room, his stomach churning when Bucky shrugged, chewing on his trembling lip to keep from breaking down again. Bucky let Steve lead him into his room, sitting on the edge of the bed, gripping onto the sheets till they nearly tore.
"What the hell happened Buck"
"She found out bout the bet" Bucky whispered, fresh tears streaming down his face when he remembered how defeated you looked with betrayal. "She knows I asked her out because of it"
"Fuck" Sam hissed while Steve ran a hand over his face. They felt equally responsible for hurting you for having suggested the bet in the first place, also piecing together you must have over heard them when they were talking earlier. Steve was sick with guilt while Sam also slumped onto the couch, all three men feeling awful for hurting you.
"Did you talk to her?"
"She doesn't want to even look at me" Bucky shook his head before burying his face in his hands again, unable to stop from crying; there was a good chance he lost you forever and it was his fault.
"Just-just give her some time" Steve threw an arm over Bucky, while mentally hitting himself for being part of the mess, hoping you'd forgive his best friend who was deeply and utterly in love with you.
-
You woke up with a throbbing headache, staying in bed for longer than usual. You felt more embarrassed than the night before realizing others must have known the true nature of your relationship with Bucky. Not only did Bucky not really like you in the first place but he'd only even looked your way because he was sure he wouldn't fall for you.
You kept to yourself for the first few days. You'd managed to wake up earlier than everyone else so you could eat breakfast and train alone, only to eat dinner extra late after everyone had gone to sleep. It wasn't difficult given your skill set; you slinked about undetected, evading the other avengers every time they knocked on your door to check on you.
Bucky tried to find you every single day, spending each night falling asleep by your door, ignoring the worsening kink in his neck, hoping he'd get get to see you just once, one time so he could at least apologize to you properly.
Two full weeks had gone by and you some how only felt worse. You hated hearing Bucky cry when you walked by his room but then you'd remember what he did and you couldn't bring yourself to trust him again.
Bucky was a mess. He missed you more than anything; you were his baby, his soul mate, his beautiful sweet bella. He would've given anything just to see you walk down the hall way, anything to hear your voice even if it was you telling him off like he deserved. He wanted you to yell and scream at him, tell him what at ass hole he was, that he was the biggest jerk on the planet, that you hated him, he'd listen to it like it was music if he just got to see you again.
He got his hopes up when a new mission came up requiring all hands on deck; Tony called for a sudden meeting with the full team which meant everyone had to be there. Bucky ran off to the showers within seconds, scrubbing himself with body wash he knew you loved so much before throwing on a tight black t-shirt and jeans that made you all shy and giggly. He knew he was playing dirty, leaving the scuff on his face before spraying on a dash of cologne.
He had to look his best, even if it meant you'd throw your cute little kitten mug at his head. He nervously ran to the conference room, eyes flicking to each individual, his heart dropping when he didn't see you there.
"Damn Barnes" Tony whistled while Steve smiled sadly knowing his bestfriend was hoping to see you. "Who'd you clean up for"
"Where's y/n" Bucky's eyes were pleading with everyone, hoping someone would say you were just running late or that you weren't taking part in the mission.
"She's....she's at the head office" Tony sighed, "She wants a transfer"
"Damn it" Sam had now sat up while Bucky left the room with Steve following behind him. "He needs her, he really loves her"
"I-I can't lose her" Bucky sobbed, shaking his head, clutching onto the card you had given him on your anniversary. He'd read every word 100 times over, memorizing it to heart, careful not to crush the paper as he pressed it to his chest. "She's everything to me"
"Look, it's out fault too. We're the ones who suggested the stupid thing, we'll get her back" Steve gave him a reassuring squeeze and Sam nodded.
"I feel like shit man, the whole thing was meant to be a dumb joke, we love her too, we're not just gonna let her leave like this, not our y/n, okay? That's our girl"
"C'mon, lets go get your girl back, punk"
-
You frowned as you entered through the main doors of the compound, finding it unusually quiet when everyone should have been at home since they'd just gotten back from their mission. You felt conflicted after your meeting with Fury and Agent Hill, both of them asking you to reconsider your request to transfer. You told them you'd think about it but you were certain over your decision.
You couldn't face the team any more and your were too embarrassed to look at Bucky again. You didn't mind working in the office and starting over, figuring that would be the best way to mend your heart.
You made your way up to your room, a little red envelope sitting on your pillow catching your attention. You were wary as you opened it, your breath catching in your throat as you recognized the handwriting.
To my first and only love,
I don't deserve someone as sweet as you, but I can't bear the thought of you thinking I don't love you with my entire being. I know I don't deserve a second chance, but I need you to know it was always real.
Always.
I've kept it will hidden but it's time for you to see. It's in my favorite hiding spot for your eyes only.
With all the hugs and kisses in the worlds,
JBB
You knew exactly what spot Bucky was referring to, thinking back to the early days of when you were dating. On more than one occasion, Bucky had grabbed you into his closet, shutting the door when he wanted a few extra moments of privacy before a mission, showering you with 100's of kisses before eventually getting caught and dragged down to the hangar with a bashful grin on his face.
You reluctantly made your way to his room, letting out the breath you were holding when he wasn't inside. The scent of him alone already caused you to feel butterflies but you ignored them as you looked in the closet, finding a shoe box with another red envelope sitting on top for you to read.
To my sweet bella,
You had my heart from day one. You were never supposed to see any of this but you have to know. It's always been you.
Forever and only yours,
JBB
You sat on the floor of the closet as you carefully opened the box, inspecting its contents. Inside was an old, weathering diary with a receipt stuffed in the middle as a bookmark. You opened the page that was marked, surprised to find the receipt from the ice cream place you where you had your first date, the date of the entry a few days before he asked you out.
A new team mate has joined the group. Her name is y/n, y/l/n. She specializes in hand to hand combat and is a trained spy. Tony introduced us to everyone today. I wouldn't mind being her friend but I hope she isn't afraid of me, maybe she's just shy.
The next entry was from the day Sam and Steve made the bet
I doubt I'll forget this but I'm writing it down anyway. 2 months for 200 dollars. Seems stupid but what's the worst that could happen, it's not like she'd actually fall for me anyway.
Then there was the entry after your first date.
She's probably one of the sweetest people I've ever met; I don't want to forget this day, bet or not. She wore a sun dress and she laughed at all my jokes. She called me adorable. Her hands felt so soft. I'm sure its in her nature to be so kind but I wish it was just for me. Maybe I'll ask her out again.
A few days later.
I swear I'm falling in love with her more and more each day and she doesn't even have a clue. I don't know how to show her she's special to me, you'd think I'd be better at this. I hope one day she feels the same way.
And then
I love her. So much. Ma would have loved her. I hope one day she says yes.
You let out a wet laugh at the entries became sappier, each one detailing how hard he was falling for you, all the little details of your dates filling the pages, your heart breaking when you realized he wrote as much as he could remember so he'd never forget. He didn't mention the bet in any of the pages because he'd forgotten about it completely, fully focused on making you officially his.
The diary was sacred to him, a private place where he recounted his most precious memories, the one thing he'd never share with anyone but he decided to share it with you because you had to know. It was one of the few places he poured his heart and soul into with no filter, some of his darkest memories scrawled onto the pages but after he'd met you, it changed. Page after page filled with nothing but sweetness, pure and untainted love. You wiped the tears away, carefully placing the diary back in its proper hiding spot before making your way downstairs hoping to find him.
You found a trail of petals that hadn't been there earlier leading to the living room, walking to a very remorseful looking Sam, Steve and of course Bucky, all three men clutching onto teddy bears along with a blanket fort hoisted up in front of the large TV screen.
"What-what is all this?" You whispered, hesitantly walking towards them with Sam stepping forward first, wrapping you up in a bone crushing hug.
"We're really sorry sweetheart" Sam murmured into your hair, hugging you tightly against him, "we never wanted to hurt you, we love you baby, truly"
"You're special to us darling" Steve came over next, pressing a firm kiss to your head, his large arms holding you in a comforting embrace, "We're idiots, you didn't deserve that, don't leave because of us sweetheart, it's not the same without you"
"It's-its okay"
"It's not, we know it isn't but just know we really do love you, okay? Especially him" Steve whispered the last part with a small smile, looking over to his best friend who was anxiously shuffling on his feet, clutching the largest bear in his hands.
You hugged onto the two little teddies from Sam and Steve, kissing their cheeks before they quietly left you and Bucky alone for some privacy. You set them down on the sofa, suddenly feeling nervous when it was just you and Bucky, anxiety and embarrassment attempting to claw its way back up again.
"I'm so sorry bella" Bucky hesitantly reached out for you, scared you'd pull away, relief flooding his body when you allowed him to pull you in for a hug. "My pretty girl, m'so sorry, I didn't mean for it to happen baby"
"You-you really liked me after?" you felt silly for asking such a thing but you couldn't help it, you had to know, your soft doe eyes pleading with him to be honest with you, "You don't have to lie Bucky, it's okay if you didn't-
"You're breakin' my heart babygirl, of course I did. Of course I liked you sweets, I fell hard and fast for you, it would've happened with or without that stupid bed. I wouldn't have been able to resist that smile or that laugh, nothing would've kept me away from you"
Bucky scooped you into his arms and sat you down on his lap and he settled under the blanket fort, keeping you straddled on him while his hands wrapped around your waist.
"Believe me when I say you're the only girl I've ever fallen for, the only one I've ever wanted. I never ever wanted to hurt you baby and I'll spend the rest of my life making sure you never cry again, if you'd have me. I hate seeing you cry sweets, especially because of me. I just want to love you baby, please?"
His voice cracked at the end, bottom lip quivering as he nervously traced his thumbs along your hips. What if he lost you forever, he wouldn't know what to do with himself, not when he adored you so much.
"I love you y/n, you're my dream girl, my everything, no one else comes even close-"
You cut off his rambling, smashing your lips against his, a soft sob slipping past his lips between kisses as he desperately clung onto you.
"Do-do you forgive me?" Bucky sniffled, breathing out a sigh of relief when you pressed your forehead against his, nodding and slinging your arms around his shoulders. "Please say it angel, I-fuck-I'm so sorry, I missed you so much"
"I forgive you" you whispered, squeaking when Bucky pulled you to cuddle into the pile of pillows and blankets he'd laid out, wanting nothing more than to kiss and cuddle you between cute cheesy rom coms you loved so much. He smiled at the giggles you let out as he attacked you with unrelenting kisses again, breathing in your scent and feeling your body finally wrapped up with his again.
"I missed you so much angel"
"Missed you to Jamie" You kissed his nose, caressing his face as he nuzzled into the crook of your neck, knowing Sam and Steve were probably creeping from some corner. "I love you"
"Love you more bella" Bucky smiled, letting you pick a movie, pulling a fluffy blanket up to cover you both. "Loved you from day one"
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yzzart · 5 months
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Could you do a Tom blyth x actress!Reader of like a compilation of cute moments during interviews? Like you did with the playlists one, but this time you could do more couple-ish stuff like kissing or any other type of physical contact? I’m just really craving for Tom content and you’re the only one I’ve seen who writes for him!!!!!🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼
"Just married, according to fans."
pairing: tom blyth x actress!reader.
summary: you and Tom look like an elderly married couple, say your fans and the rest of the cast.
word count: 635!
notes: here it's in your hands, anon! honestly, i had a lot of fun writing and imagining this scenario; it's so cute and adorable and forgive me if it's short & there're so many amazing writings for tom and you need to read them! — i hope you like it and share your ideas and requests with me!
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"That's so cliché." — You turned, looking at Tom, amused by his answer to a behind-the-scenes question.
"We're cliché, honey." — He confessed, placing his hand on your knee, squeezing it weakly and with affectionate intent; you felt the small coldness of his rings.
"You guys're definitely cliché." — Rachel confessed, looking at the camera, with her lips curling into a tight smile and laughing; and soon, you and Tom laughed at her words.
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"Oh, your work on 'Billy the kid' is so captivating." — You crossed your legs, settling in the armchair, and resting one of your hands on your knee. — "And i think i've said that for the thousandth time? I don't know?" — A question that did not, in fact, have a concrete answer; a simple provocation.
"Maybe, but, i want to hear it again." — Tom arched his eyebrows with a bold expression and curled his lips; and proceeding to arrange the headphones in his ears.
"Okay, okay!" — The radio presenter raised his hands, finding it funny and interesting. — "It's so good and intriguing, leaving the viewer wanting more and becoming completely obsessed!" — You paused briefly. — "And i already begged to participate at least as an extra in the series!" — Tom and the presenter laughed. — "And i'm not kidding, and to this day i'm waiting for something or confirmation."
"She's really not kidding." — Tom completed with a proud smile, having fun with your statement and waiting, with fingers crossed and mentally, for your confirmation in the series.
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"And I'm saying…" — Rachel raised a finger up, supporting it in a sign of pronouncement. — "I'm saying that I think it's unfair for Y/N to participate in this!" — She laughed, looking at you and, soon, wanting support from Josh; you placed the small card you were holding, which was part of the game, and placed it on your face, holding it and looking at the camera in front of you.
"I also think!" — Josh confessed. — "Asking his girlfriend to answer questions about him is cheating." — He asked, jokingly, with his arms raised.
"Not in my world." — Tom mentioned, shrugging his shoulders, looking at the camera and pointing the small white cards towards it.
"Are you afraid of losing?" — Now it was your turn to tease, arching your eyebrows and running a hand through some strands of your hair and leaving the small card in your lap.
"Oh yeah?" — Rachel said; while, Tom's hand gently and knowingly held your and the camera captured and focused on the moment. — "Look at this!"
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In every interview, or radio appearance, Tom always, always maintains physical contact with you; his hand on your thigh, or leg, he's holding and stroking your hand. — Analyzing the spots that are present, and rings that you wear. — Tom just can't keep his hands off you.
Those deep, lovely blue eyes are always on you; admiring, contemplating and paying attention to every word that was uttered from your lips. — Sometimes, he gets lost in the conversation and topic because they were busy watching you.
Matching accessories? Oh yeah! In addition to the photos, which fans analyzed, in which you wear his jacket, you wear rings, necklaces from the same brand and edition. — Not to mention the necklace with your initial that Tom already wore at one of the premieres and during a radio interview with Rachel.
Countless photos of you together're spread all over social media, whether from paparazzi or those that Rachel or you post. — Your fans go crazy, insanely, with them; at certain times, they created an album of them and Rachel even shared it on her profile and sent it to you.
Excerpts, videos, spread across social media, of you moving in sync; a touch on the face, rolling the eyes, or thinking about the same thing, answer or something and talking together. — God, there are so many compilations created by fans.
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kaibutsushidousha · 28 days
Text
Kodaka April Fools tweets 2024
Lying just because it's April Fools' is so dull. Honestly painful to watch. Lying in general doesn't do you any good. In my younger days, I told every lie I could, saying some genuinely insane stuff about being a supreme leader of evil and whatnot, and thanks to that, now that I'm in my thirties, I got famous for all the wrong reasons and can't find a stable job because people think I'm associated with the yakuza... Sigh, I wanna deck my cringe younger self's face. Quit lying for fun while you can.
My classmates aren't doing great either. Thinking you're hot shit during your school days always comes back to bite you... My advice to my past self: slow and steady effort is worth more than any talent. Also, the part of life you spent larping with that silly horse laugh is not going to be one you'll want to remember later. I wish I could make that clear to him. White lies aren't a thing. Talent is never enough. My class is proof of that. Wanna know what my classmates are like now that we're in our thirties?
Akamatsu became a piano teacher. Her player skills capped off in her teens, it seems. But she's not that good at teaching so she's considered kinda mid at her job. And now she's struggling with the father of a student incessantly hitting on her. Tough world to live in.
Toujou opened a housekeeping company but she was too strict with her employees so everyone quit. And now she's doing everything on her own. Sucks to be in your thirties without any successors or employees. She's a prime example of how being so much better than anyone else doesn't do you any good. Well, she's always working for celebrities, so she's doing well financially, but I heard about some major court fight about a missing item under suspicion of theft from one of her clients. That can't be nice.
Yumeno got to her thirties still saying magic is real, so she's past the point of no return. She agrees that's an unhinged way to live, but she's too old to suddenly change gimmicks. Work takes her all over the country, but her gimmick doesn't allow her to publicly drink, so she has to get plastered alone in her hotel room after shows. I wish she could fix her life with real magic.
Harukawa? ...Haven't heard that name in a long time. Now she was a living edgy fantasy. The past tense was because I hadn't heard of her in a long time. I don't know the details, but apparently, she went to some war zone outside of Japan because her first love didn't want to date her. Takes some real edgelord to react to a broken heart like that, but if she's still alive, I have no idea how her thirties are treating her. My personal guess is that she's a mother of many.
Chabashira opened her Aikido school but is having a hard time attracting students. So she had the idea of starting an anti-sexual-harassment campaign that could double as advertisement, but thanks to her cluelessness when it comes to romance, she got canceled for mistakenly tossing men in regular couples. She's still doing the "degenerate males" bit in her thirties. Girl really needs to get on with the times. Rumor goes that she still downs huge packs of tequila bottles with Yumeno every now and then. Really don't think there's any salvaging her reputation.
Shirogane is an office lady still continuing her cosplay hobby on the side. She could be doing well if she knew how to keep her mouth shut but frequently rambles about cosplay history and etiquette, so no one likes having her around. Stay emotionally dependent on a single hobby long enough and your passion starts to close you off to others. That's her problem.
Angie was the most successful in the class! She made big money both on the art and the religion fronts. However, there were some controversies about her devotees selling counterfeits of her paintings at exorbitant prices and one magazine made a huge news coverage of it, which resulted in her catching the police's attention. She's been recently untraceable, with the rumors saying that she'll never be back to Japan.
Oh, and Iruma... Up until some point, she had the best life of all of us. She made big money off of her inventions' patents. So far so good. Things only started going off-rails after she married an ex-stripper. The two started a YouTube channel together. And later, her husband ran in last year's elections and lost big time. They got an awful debt from his election campaign and she had to get into side jobs to pay it off. And her husband? Disappeared. No word from Iruma herself about what happened. Tough world to live in.
No further updates from Kodaka in the past 3 hours, so I assume he went to sleep and will come back to tweet about the 7 remaining boys in the morning.
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youunravelme · 8 months
Text
this is how you fall in love
author's note: let it be known, i've never been to jfk airport, and it probably shows. sue me. also sorry this took SO FUCKING LONG to write. it lowkey put me in a writing slump because it's just a monster but i hope you can forgive me. this fic is literally 18,952 words long, so i apologize in advance.
pairing: mat barzal x reader
summary: when confronted with the idea of going home without a date, you lie and say you have a boyfriend. which would be fine, except you haven't dated anyone seriously in a year. so instead of facing the ridicule of your family, you ask mat.
warnings: cursing (this is a given at this point), mean girl behavior?
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you weren't quite sure why you said it.
actually.
scratch that.
you were 1000 percent sure why you said it.
you could not, would not be the family embarrassment yet again.
if you got one more wedding invitation in the mail, you were going to scream. you were happy for all your college friends, really, you were, but it was the presence of this one particular wedding invitation from your cousin angela that had you seething.
mainly because it was accompanied by a phone call from your mother.
"i told angela that she didn't need to put a plus one down for you, but she insisted. so don't feel bad if you don't have someone, sweetheart. plenty of people are still single at your age."
maybe it was the irritation at your mother's condescension, or the exhaustion from being the butt of every family joke for the past five years, that had you saying something you wish you could take back.
"i do have someone, mom!"
her scoff resonated through the speaker. "honey, you don't have to lie--"
"i'm not lying! it's mat!"
the pause that followed your white lie was louder than the new york city streets just outside your apartment.
"your friend, mat? you told me you'd never see him that way!" she accused.
you shrugged, despite her not seeing you. and thank goodness for that, she'd immediately know you were lying if she could see your face. "something just clicked."
"how long has this been going on?"
"a few months."
"and you never told us?"
"we wanted to keep it lowkey until we knew this was something real."
your mom hummed but seemed appeased. "well, i can't wait to meet him. you are coming down a week early, right?"
in hindsight, you should've told mat immediately instead of postponing it until two weeks before you had to leave. but he was out of town for games, then you had a work trip, and then time slipped away from you.
but there was nothing you and a tub of bubblegum ice cream couldn't accomplish together.
at least in matters of mathew barzal.
he answered the door a few seconds after you knocked. a smile overtook his face until his eyes dropped down to the ice cream in your hands.
"what do you need?" he asked with a quirked brow.
"who says i need something?" you blinked in what you hoped was an innocent manner.
mat sighed and opened the door wide enough for you to come in. "because you have ice cream, and you showed up at my door unannounced." but he took the ice cream from your hands anyway. "how'd you even know i was home?"
you shrugged and plopped onto his couch. "i checked your location."
mat blinked. "you have my location? since when?"
you rolled your eyes. "you make me sound like a stalker, you made me share my location with you when i was out drinking with my coworkers and i demanded to have yours as well."
you didn't get to see mat's face because he was walking into his kitchen to put the ice cream away.
"so why are you here?" he asked once he returned.
"can't i just come over and visit my best friend?"
mat blinked. "no. you want something. what is it?"
you threw yourself back into the couch cushions and groaned, tossing an arm over your eyes. "you're not allowed to judge me."
"well that doesn't sound fun."
"mat, i'm serious, okay? i got myself into some shit and you're the only one i trust to help me out."
you felt the couch cushions sink next to you. a hand removed your arm from your face. "are you safe?" he asked. "are you in trouble? do we need to get the police involved?"
you looked at the concern on his face and sat up immediately. "no! no no no no no! it's not like that, i just happened to lie to my mom and need your help."
"why would you need my help to lie to your mom? you're not making any sense."
you took a deep breath and squeezed your eyes shut. "i told my mom we were dating so i had someone to bring to my cousin's wedding."
a pause, followed by mat's obnoxious laughter.
"you told your mom we're dating?" he choked out between cackles. "how did you manage not to vomit after saying that?"
you rolled your eyes at his barbs. "you were the first person to come to mind! what else should i have done?"
"jeez i don't know, told the truth?"
you flopped back onto the couch again. "no, mat, you don't understand. you didn't hear how she was talking to me! 'plenty of people are still single at your age!' i mean the gall of that woman!"
mat laughed again. "'gall?'"
"yes, mat, some of us use words bigger than a fifth grader's vocabulary."
"careful, that's no way to talk to your boyfriend, now is it?"
you scoffed. "boyfriend? are you--" then it hit you. "you'll do it? you'll be the fake love of my life?" you jumped off the couch.
mat smiled and leaned back into the cushions. "ask nicely."
you rolled your eyes but a smile was already pulling at your lips. "mathew michael paul barzal, will you please be my boyfriend?"
he crossed his hands behind his head and smirked. "calm down, you don't have to beg."
"i would throw something at you, but you're already doing me such a huge favor."
"you owe me one," he smirked.
oh, you'd owe him big.
one week till going home
"okay, so how did we meet?" you and mat were seated at a booth in a coffee shop the both of you liked to frequent.
"no need to reinvent the wheel," he said. "let's just tell them the truth."
"that we met at a bar through mutual friends? that's so unromantic!"
mat rolled his eyes. "we're not a fucking rom com, sweetheart. we're lying to your family and being as honest as possible makes the lying look more convincing."
you sighed and sat back in your seat. honestly, you had no reason to be frustrated. mat was doing you a favor, not the other way around. and with it being the offseason, it wasn't lost on you how much mat was giving up to play house with you. he could be visiting his own family instead of lying to yours.
yet here he was, sitting across from you with his disgusting black coffee.
you must've been staring at his cup because he snapped his fingers in your face. "what? what're you staring at?"
your face twisted in disgust. "can't believe you like that shit. no cream or sugar?"
mat eyed the frappuccino nestled in your hands. "i'm sorry, i didn't realize milkshakes qualify as coffee nowadays."
"you're just mad that my drink tastes good."
mat rolled his eyes. "keep telling yourself that."
you looked down at your phone at your notes app agenda. you deleted the intricate backstory bullet point and moved onto bullet point number two.
"okay, how long have we been dating?"
mat blinked. "you're the liar, you tell me."
god, why were you friends with him in the first place?
"i told my mom we've been together for a few months but i'm not sure what constitutes a few."
mat shrugged. "let's say we got together around the time of my injury when you nursed me back to health and realized how handsome i was."
you rolled your eyes, but wrote it down in your notes app anyway. "okay so where was our first date?"
"am i the one who has to answer all of these questions? who says we even need all of this? it's not like they're gonna lock us in a room and interrogate us separately."
"my brother would say otherwise." mat gestured for you to go on. "when we met his girlfriend, my family immediately separated them so they could bombard them with questions. but since everyone will be focused on my cousin's wedding, we should be good."
"who should i be worried about?"
you thought for a moment, in your opinion, your entire family was a concern in terms of introducing them to mat.
there was your brother, who could be an ass in a heartbeat; though, when you thought about it, he'd probably just leave the two of you alone.
your dad and mom would probably ask a few questions. your grandmother would probably be too busy trying to stuff her cooking down his throat to really pose a problem.
if you were being honest, you were concerned about your cousin, angela.
she wasn't what you would call a "girl's girl." throughout your childhood, it was like she was competing against you in a competition you didn't want to be in. who had the bigger birthday, the most friends, the most boyfriends, the bigger house, the better car, the better college.
it used to bother you more when you were younger. the way she'd flirt with your boyfriends or bribe your friends to hang out with her. it was made worse by the enabling of your parents and aunt.
"just keep an eye out for angela," was all you said.
mat's brow furrowed. "your cousin? why?"
you'd never fully told him about your less than perfect relationship with her, but considering the two of you were in a public setting and he wasn't your therapist? you kept that information to yourself and just shrugged.
"we don't have the best relationship."
mat seemed to understand you didn't want to speak on it anymore so he nodded and gestured to your phone. "is your phone ready to be seen by your family?"
"i'm sorry, what? why would my family go through my phone?"
"they'll at least want to see that i'm your lock screen, you're mine, after all."
"i am not." but mat held up his phone and sure enough it was a picture of you and him after one of his games, wearing his jersey with your arms wrapped around his waist. "you're shitting me, why?"
mat shrugged and locked his phone, placing it down on the table. "i looked good in the photo."
you wanted to call bullshit, but he was already doing you a favor, so you let it go.
"fine," you said. "i'll change my lock screen." you scrolled through your photos until you found one you liked.
"can i see it?" he asked.
you immediately held your phone to your chest. "no!"
"i showed you mine!"
"that sounds like a you problem!"
"but it's not fair!" he whined.
"life's not fair, barzy."
he rolled his eyes but dropped the subject, knowing full well he could make you show him just by bringing up the favor he was doing for you. but for some reason, he decided to let it go.
"anything else?" mat asked before checking his watch.
you looked down at your notes app and couldn't find a reason to get him to stay. "no, i think that's it. why, do you have somewhere to be?"
he shrugged. "just meeting up with a couple of my teammates."
"during the offseason? don't you get enough of each other during the regular season?"
"sure, but we miss each other sometimes. i mean we go from seeing all the time to nothing. plus you got me staying in the city a little longer than normal."
you rolled your eyes. "you didn't have to say yes."
but he smiled anyway. "i know." he stood up from the table and knocked on it once. "text me the dates of travel this week so i can put them on my calendar. i'll get the plane tickets. let me know if you need anything else!"
he pressed a kiss on the top of your head and then he was gone.
an older woman stood up and walked towards you and smiled. "i just wanna say, you and your boyfriend are so cute together!"
maybe the whole fake dating thing would be easier than you thought.
going home
you slept over at mat's the night before leaving for the airport because it would make things easier on marty who agreed to drive you both to the airport. you weren't exactly sure how mat convinced marty to do it, but you made it a habit of not asking questions you didn't want the answer to.
"thanks again for the ride, marty," you said from the backseat.
originally, you and mat were fighting over who got to sit in the front, but not in the way others might expect. he said it was polite to let ladies sit in the front (which, when has he ever called you a lady?). you said he had the longer legs and needed the space.
marty groaned at the both of you to stop wasting his gas and to get in the damn car, i swear to god, barzy.
you got the backseat simply because you got in and shut the door before mat could pull you out.
"where are you and barzy headed?" marty asked.
"back to my hometown. my cousin is getting married," you supplied before he had time to ask follow up questions.
"and you chose barzy to be your date?"
you awkwardly chuckled. "tito was already in canada and i didn't have it in me to ask him to come back to the states."
"oh fuck off," mat said from the front seat.
the drive continued with you sporadically staring out the window or tuning into the conversation mat and marty were having about offseason workouts and the nba finals. when marty pulled up to the airport, mat was the first one out, opening your door a beat later.
he grabbed both of your bags in his hands, saying a quick thanks to his teammate for the both of you before shutting the trunk.
"i can carry my bags, mat."
he laughed, but otherwise continued on like he hadn't heard you. if you were a better woman, or maybe someone who hadn't been friendzoned for the last few years, you would've acknowledged the veins in his arms popping out under the strain of your luggage.
but you'd been down that road before back before you were friends and just admiring a handsome stranger from across the bar.
look at how that turned out for you.
you were expecting to split up at TSA since you knew mat had pre check and you most certainly did not. you were expecting him to hand your bags over (a backpack and a carry on) and head in the pre check lane.
so imagine your surprise when he not only refused to hand your bags over, he continued walking to the normal security check.
"mat," you hissed, but he kept walking. "mat." you stood on your toes and grabbed his shoulder to keep him from walking, but he brushed you off. so you stopped moving altogether until he noticed you weren't following him anymore.
"will you come on? you're gonna make us late!" he turned around, looking exasperated for some reason, like he wasn't the one being weird.
"mat, you need to go that way." you pointed to the pre check area.
he blinked at you, rolled his eyes, and turned around and kept walking.
"mathew michael paul barzal, where are you going?" you called after him, practically running to catch up to his long strides.
"i thought it was obvious, i'm headed to security," he deadpanned.
"but your security is that way mr. pre check."
"i'm not doing pre check. i'm going through regular security like you."
"why?"
mat glanced down at you and by that look alone, you would've thought you were the dumbest person alive in his mind. "please don't play dumb, it's not cute."
"i'm not playing dumb! and i don't care about being cute!"
"i'm not going to abandon you at tsa. i'd feel much better if we stick together, happy?" he stopped walking altogether and fixed you with a look. one that kept you rooted to your spot. "you happy, now?" you nodded. "good, let's go."
you followed after him and got in line.
tsa took a total of 20 minutes to get through. mat insisted you go first which meant you put your backpack on and grabbed your carry on before he could.
"you're ridiculous," he said as the both of you started the trek towards your gate.
"you sound like my mother," you quipped.
the rest of your walk was spent in peaceful silence. the both of you made it to the gate with about thirty minutes until boarding, which was the latest you'd ever arrived to a gate before.
you and mat argued about when to arrive the night before.
he won.
mainly because he was the one to tell marty when to pick you up from his apartment.
it felt like no time had passed when the gate attendant started speaking over the intercom. instinctively, you zoned out. you weren't an idiot, you knew when to board. this wasn't your first rodeo.
but mat started standing up when the gate attendant started calling for the first group.
you tugged his shirt sleeve. "mat, what the hell?"
it was a good thing your family wasn't there to see all the drama that unfolded between the two of you in the airport. anyone who watched the two of you since you'd arrived wouldn't believe you were in love.
not when you were actively getting on each other's nerves.
"will you stop?" he swatted your hand away only to grab it a second later to tug you into a standing position.
"what are you doing? we don't get on the plane yet--"
but he cut you off when he shoved a plane ticket in your hand with the words first class written on it.
"mat..." you trailed off. "what is this?"
he glanced down at you and rolled his eyes. "don't act like you've never seen a plane ticket before."
"asshole. why is it first class?"
he shrugged but wouldn't meet you eye. "i get more leg room."
"but why wouldn't you just put me in economy? mat i can't afford to pay you back for this!" you were panicking and beginning to think about how much you'd have to save before you could venmo him the full amount. you were about to pull your phone out to see how much it would cost before he grabbed your hand again, this time squeezing it in his own.
"don't worry about it," he said calmly. "i wasn't gonna let you sit alone, and i have the money for it, so i did it."
"but i can't afford--"
"i was never gonna let you pay me back anyways, so don't even think about how much it cost." while still holding onto your hand, he guided the both of you over to the gate entrance where your tickets were scanned so you could board.
you were sitting in first class moments later.
mat let you take the window seat while he got the aisle, saying it gave him more space, but you liked to think it was because he knew you liked watching the changing landscapes.
when the plane took off, mat leaned his head back in the seat and plugged his airpods in, closing his eyes as he did so. you mentally slapped yourself for forgetting yours, stupidly thinking that maybe mat would want to talk when he'd been uncharacteristically quiet the entire trip thus far.
you sat back in your seat and looked out the window as the clouds passed by. worries of how your family would react to mat, or worse, how mat would react to your family, filling your mind.
god you didn't think you could stomach losing him. in fact, maybe your entire idea was too risky. you'd take being the butt of the family jokes for years to come if it meant you got to keep mat. if you lost him--
your hand was squeezed twice.
you looked away from the window to mat who was holding your hand again and had an airpod out.
"you're thinking too loud," he said. "you okay?"
you nodded but it was clear he didn't believe you. nonetheless, he didn't push. instead, he held an airpod out to you. the tones of some pop song filled your ear.
mat didn't let go of your hand for the entire rest of the plane ride.
as soon as the plane hit the tarmac, mat was taking his airpod back and stuffing both into the case and back into his backpack. you texted your mom to let her know you'd just landed and would be getting an uber to her house.
while you were texting your mother, mat was grabbing your bags and holding up the line so you could slide out.
he didn't even acknowledge the glares and eye rolls being shot at both of you.
you and mat started your walk off the plane and towards the exit of the airport.
"so remind me who i need to be concerned about meeting? is it your dad?"
you laughed. your father was a lot of things, intimidating was not even remotely close to one. "not even close. it's angela that's the problem the problem."
"angela's the one getting married, right?" you nodded. "why are you concerned about her? she'll be too focused on getting married."
you laughed. actually, cackled. "she's had this planned out since we were seven. i'd bet my first born child that she has all of this finalized months ago."
"anything else i should know?" he asked.
you thought to yourself. what could you say about angela that wouldn't be mean but still be true?
"just....stay close. we need to go everywhere together, understood?"
he furrowed his brows. "even to the bathroom?"
you thought back to that one time in 11th grade when you didn't follow your boyfriend to the bathroom. "especially then," you said.
"got it. stick to you like glue."
you were staring at your phone and opening up your uber app when mat nudged you, but you ignored him.
but he nudged you before just grabbing your phone out of your hand.
"what?!" you asked.
he pointed. "is that your mom?"
a cold chill went down your back as you made eye contact with the woman who was your carbon copy holding a sign with yours and mat's (albeit spelled wrong) names on it. she was smiling and waving erratically with the hand that wasn't holding onto the poster.
"oh my god."
before you could even stop him, mat was walking towards your mom with an award winning smile. to your absolute horror, he placed your bags on the ground and allowed her to wrap him in a hug.
you zombie walked over to them, like you were trapped in some fever dream.
"honey!" she squealed when she pulled away from mat. "you didn't tell me how handsome mat was!" she said not so quietly.
god you wanted to die. curl up and die right there on the airport floor.
mat was snickering into his fist at your reaction.
maybe you should've asked beau instead.
home
your mom parked the car in the driveway; she nearly swooned when mat opened your car door for you and grabbed all of your bags.
"such a gentleman," was all she said before heading up the front porch.
the two of you followed your mother into your house where your dad, your brother, and his girlfriend sat in the living room.
"mat," you started. "this is my dad, my brother cody, and his girlfriend harper. guys, this is mat."
"i would wave, but my hands are full."
"oh honey, stop being rude and show mat to your room."
you blinked. "you mean, our rooms, right?" your mother and father were very traditional in that sense. so you'd banked on having to share a bathroom at most with mat.
not an entire bedroom.
not a tiny bed.
"we're not gonna act like the two of you haven't slept together already. i was born at night, but not last night," your father said from his position in the recliner.
you could hear mat choking on air while your brother cackled.
"besides," your mother cleared her throat. "cody's old room has been converted into an office, so that just leaves the queen bed in your room, sweetheart. that won't be a problem, will it?"
you shook your head, though you very much wanted to curl up in a hole and die. "no ma'am, that'll be fine."
your father crossed his hands over his stomach and leveled mat with a heated stare. "just because i know the two of you have slept together does not mean under any circumstances that it should happen under this roof. do you understand me, son?"
mat nodded, though he looked the most uncomfortable you'd ever seen him. "yes sir."
"oh honey," your mother started. "let them go settle in. dinner will be in an hour."
you led mat up the stairs and to your childhood bedroom. you finally gave up on offering to help carry the bags. mat, for the most part, looked happy to do something with his hands all things considered.
the room hadn't changed much since you moved out and away from home. the walls were still lilac, the carpet was still cream.
but the dolls you had growing up were missing, and for that, you were thankful.
mat dropped the bags on the ground and shut the door behind him. his shoulders relaxed for the first time since getting off the airplane.
"your family's nice," he said.
you immediately flocked to him until there was only about a foot between you. "mat, i'm so sorry. i didn't think they'd make us share a room, they never let cody do that growing up."
he smiled and placed his hands on your shoulders. "it's okay. it's just for a week. we've fallen asleep together on the couch before, it'll be just like that, just in a bed, okay? and i promise i won't stare when you get changed."
you nodded and wrapped your arms around his waist. "this is already so overwhelming."
"hey, we're the dream team, okay? i'm the best liar ever. we've got this in the bag."
and when he sounded so confident, how could you possibly believe otherwise?
the two of you got settled in your room before completely kicking off your shoes, changing into comfier clothes (with you in the closet and mat in the room) and settling into bed just to scroll on your phones. your mom came knocking before too long to tell you dinner was ready.
dinner was a pot of spaghetti, your mom's best dish. everyone was seated by the time you and mat made it into the dining room. mat, ever the performer, pulled your chair out and took the seat to your right, choosing to sit next to your mom rather than your father.
"are you waiting for a grand invitation? dig in," your father grunted. his irritation immediately kicked everyone into gear, with your family passing around garlic bread and filling plates with pasta.
the table was quiet aside from the sounds of forks scraping against the plates.
"so mat," cody started. "what do you do for a living?"
"oh," he said, wiping his mouth. "i play professional hockey."
"an athlete?" your mother questioned. "i thought you learned from the last one."
you about dropped your head into your plate. "mom...."
"sorry, sorry, i know we said we wouldn't talk about him, but he's going to be a part of the family soon."
mat's neck should've snapped from how fast he whipped it to look at you.
you nudged his knee under the table with yours. later, you hoped he'd understand.
harper cleared her throat. "what team do you play for?" she asked. "i grew up a devils fan, so i have to know."
"islanders," mat smirked, like it was something to be proud of, and to him, it was. to your family though? they were more concerned with the upcoming college football season to really care.
"oh god," harper replied. "at least you don't play for the rangers."
mat took a sip of his water. "agreed."
"do you still have all your teeth?" cody asked.
you inhaled and started choking on what you guessed was a spaghetti noodle. mat reached over and immediately started patting your back quite forcefully until your airway was cleared.
"yeah," mat said. "still have all my teeth."
"how did you two meet?" your mom asked. clearly your family was in interrogation mode, but at the very least these were questions you prepared for.
"at a bar through some mutual friends," mat answered, knowing good and well they weren't looking for you to say anything, their eyes were solely focused on your best friend.
"and out of all the girls, you picked this one? did you know she couldn't tie her shoes till she was in third grade?" cody laughed.
mat didn't.
which was odd, because he was usually the first one to poke fun at you.
"you wet the bed until you were nine," you shot back, ready to diffuse the tension.
a loud laugh burst from harper's mouth. not even her hand over her lips could quite muffle the volume of it.
cody rolled his eyes but held his hands up. "laugh all you want, harp. you chose this."
she smiled and leaned into him. "i did."
you stared until mat's hand landed on your thigh, effectively snapping you out of your daze. you looked at him and gave him a small smile before eating more of your mom's cooking.
dinner was over shortly thereafter, with small talk being made between the six of you. when it ended, mat was the first one up, grabbing both of your plates, while you grabbed the cups, and followed you into the kitchen.
"oh no, you're not washing dishes," you said when you saw him put the plates in the sink. but he made no sound of hearing you. "mat!" you hissed before placing your cups in the sink and grabbing him by the arm. "you're not washing dishes! you're a guest!"
"neither of you are," your mother walked in. "you just got here. your father and i will clean up dinner, the two of you can go relax and unwind. i'm sure you've had a long day."
"i can help--" mat started.
but your mom started twirling a hand towel with a smile on her face. "don't make me smack you with this, mat." and the very sight of that coupled with the lighthearted threat had you both sprinting out of the kitchen. you'd grown up in that house long enough to remember the sting of the towel on your legs when you annoyed your mother.
you also remembered trying to get back at her once and failing completely.
your father passed the two of you as he walked into the kitchen while your brother and his girlfriend took their spots on the couch. it only left one seat left in the room, your dad's chair. but combined with the air travel, the early morning, you were left exhausted and nothing sounded better than showering and crawling into bed.
"we're gonna head upstairs, long day and all," you said to cody and harper, the inference was that they would tell your parents.
mat followed you up the stairs and into your childhood bedroom. "you take the first shower," you instructed. "i have to wash my hair and it'll take longer."
he nodded and gathered his clothes while you searched your bag for a set of modest pajamas. he finished his shower in about twenty minutes.
you hopped in the shower and went through your routine, washing your hair and body before stepping out and drying off. when you got back to your room, mat was laying in bed under the covers watching the tv on your dresser.
in true fashion, he was watching espn.
"don't you get enough of this during the season? i didn't even know you liked baseball." you crawled into bed and cuddled into mat's clothed chest like you always did.
mat shrugged, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. "i was waiting for you to come back to decide what we should watch."
you hummed and buried your face into his shirt.
cuddling wasn't abnormal for the two of you, most movie nights at mat's place ended with you in similar positions. you were aware his friends made fun of him for it, but mat thrived off physical affection and you were all too willing to give it to him.
"just turn on a movie," you mumbled.
he selected a random mission impossible movie that you couldn't give two shits about. but when the movie and your fresh shower were coupled with mat running a hand up and down your back?
you were out like a light.
exploring the hometown -- the dress shop
it was an alarm that woke you up right as the sun rose. you groaned into your pillow, burying your face into the fabric. a warm arm tightened its grip around your waist. for a moment you freaked out, trying to wriggle away from the person who had you locked in, but the person grumbled and groaned.
"if you keep moving like that, i'm going to need a cold shower. so stop."
oh.
mat.
oh.
you immediately stopped moving and relaxed back into the bed.
"we need to talk," he said.
"can we talk later? it's barely even morning."
but mat had no intention of letting you sleep in. he used his arm to forcibly turn you over to face him. when you looked him in the face, his hair was mussed and in his eyes. before you could even stop yourself, you hand was reaching and moving the hair out of the way.
"what did your mom mean when she said the last athlete you dated was joining the family soon?"
you groaned and shoved your head into his chest, but he lightly pushed your forehead away from him so he could look you in the eyes.
"i'm serious," he said.
you sighed. "i dated this guy in 11th grade, his name was owen and he played football. he was the starting tight end and a grade older than me." you avoided looking at him and instead traced the letters on his islanders t-shirt with your fingers. "things were great, he was nice and all, so i invited him to my birthday party. he went to the bathroom, and i noticed he was gone for awhile so when i went to look for him, he was making out with angela."
mat's grip tightened on your waist. he said your name quietly, but you shook your head.
"it's fine," you said. "i told my parents but angela didn't get in trouble, not really at least. my aunt pressured me to make up with her for the sake of 'family' and 'feminism,' so i accepted her half assed apology and congratulated her when they got engaged a year ago."
"what a bitch," was all mat said.
"mat..."
but he was sitting up and pulling you with him. "no, don't brush this off. what she did was shitty. and your family just expected you to forgive her and watch her get married to him?"
"mat, it happened years ago. forgive and forget."
"i think you mean resent and remember," he grumbled.
"can we just go back to sleep? it's too early for this."
mat huffed but sank back into the mattress.
the two of you fell back asleep until light was hitting you in the eyes. "get up, sleepy heads! you can't sleep the day away!"
you groaned at the sound of your mother's cheering, or maybe it was the bright ceiling light blinding you, either way, the way you woke up the first time was better than this.
"mom, what time is it?"
"a little after 8."
you and mat groaned in unison. "you couldn't let us sleep in?"
"there are things that need to get done, sweetheart. do either of you have something to wear to the wedding?"
"mom, it's too early for this."
she sighed and probably rolled her eyes, something you would notice if you weren't too busy burying your head in the fabric of mat's shirt. in turn, he was burying his face in your hair.
"fine. you two can sleep the day away, but i expect the both of you for dinner tonight and to be dressed appropriately for the family dinner tomorrow." she left shortly thereafter.
"family dinner?" mat asked into your hair. "how is that different from regular dinner?"
"it's with the entire family, not just mine. you'll meet all my cousins and aunts and uncles and grandparents there."
"sounds like a lot."
"it is. they did this when my cousin andy got married two years ago."
mat hummed into the top of your head. "sounds exhausting."
"if you don't wanna see me for a month after this week is over, i wouldn't blame you."
he brought you closer to him, which you didn't think was possible considering you two were already pretty close. "i always wanna see you."
you smiled into his shirt, which you were pretty sure he could feel, but neither of you drew attention to it.
"we need to get up," you sighed, pushing away from him just a little.
"i'm already up."
on cue you felt something around your hip that had you squealing and falling out of bed laughing. "you absolute douche!" but it had no real bite since you were holding your stomach and rolling around on the floor laughing.
"what am i supposed to do when i wake up with a pretty girl pressed against me? ignore nature?"
you rolled your eyes and got up, searching through your bag for a pair of shorts and a t-shirt. "get dressed, asshole."
by the time you made it downstairs after taking care of your hair and brushing your teeth, your mother had set out a few granola bars for breakfast.
"i would've made eggs and waffles, but i'm already swamped with helping your aunt, i just didn't have the energy this morning."
"thanks, mom," you smiled and kissed her cheek once before grabbing a granola bar.
"do you know what you're wearing to angela's wedding?" she asked.
you nodded while you chewed your bar. "i brought that blue dress i wore to cody's graduation."
your mom's face twisted into disgust. "that old thing? honey, you can do better than that."
you waited until your mother turned around to roll your eyes only to catch mat coming down the stairs in a t-shirt and jeans.
god he looked so good it should be criminal.
but instead of fawning over him, you just threw a granola bar at his chest with he caught with an ease. "what're we doing today?"
"shopping apparently," you grumbled.
"oh don't give him attitude, honey. you should've packed something more appropriate to the wedding instead of that ratty dress you brought."
"it's not ratty!" you weren't sure why you were defending a dress you didn't care about, you'd only grabbed the first dress you saw in your closet. maybe it was the fact that she was so quick to dismiss something you chose to wear.
"that dress is years old, sweetheart. it's time for something new."
"thanks for the constructive criticism, mom. you never fail to give it at the best times," you deadpanned. you glanced back at mat who was stuffing the granola bar in his mouth. "you ready to go?"
he nodded, still chewing as you started walking towards the door.
"dad! i'm taking your car." you grabbed the keys, then mat's hand, and tugged him out the door.
neither of you spoke until you were already five minutes down the road.
"are you okay?" mat asked, eyes warily staring at your from the passenger seat. "you're gripping the wheel pretty tight."
you looked down at your own hands and eased up. "she just--" you groaned. "she always does this, criticizes me or what i wear. i know she means well, but it's irritating."
"for what it's worth, i liked the blue dress."
you gave him a small smile. "the problem isn't you, mat, it's not even the dress. if my mom thinks it's ratty, angela definitely will. and at the end of the day, i think that's what my mom is trying to save me from."
"why doesn't she just tell angela to mind her own business?"
"question of the year," you grumbled before pulling into the parking lot of a local boutique.
the two of you got out and headed inside, though mat looked a little out of place. "what's the dress code for this wedding anyway?"
"i'm sure if you brought a dress shirt and some slacks, you'll be fine."
you looked around, occasionally checking the dresses on the racks, but nothing caught your eye.
"can i help you find anything?" that voice nearly stopped you in your tracks, it was someone you hadn't thought about since you left for college.
you turned around and smiled at the woman in front of you. last time you saw her, you were standing in matching caps and gowns. you sat next to each other at graduation, and before that, you shared a few classes together. if it wasn't for the bright red hair and the comments your mom had made in the past about her staying in town, you never would've recognized her.
you hoped she wouldn't recognize you.
but she said your name in shock and smiled. "it's been so long!" she said. "back in town for angela's wedding?"
and really, you had no reason to dread this conversation, meredith was as nice as she was in high school. but you weren't sure if anyone was ever this happy to run into someone they knew from high school.
speaking of, you couldn't even remember why you weren't closer to her in high school.
"meredith, hi," you replied. "yes, i'm in town for her wedding. are you going?"
meredith nodded and smiled. "i'm actually her maid of honor."
of course she was.
that explained why you weren't close friends in high school.
"that's so exciting!" you smiled through a clenched jaw.
"i was shocked to hear you weren't in the bridal party though. is everything okay?" meredith sounded genuinely concerned, and while she was sweet, you never remembered her being very observant.
you shrugged. "we've grown apart since i moved away, it's water under the bridge."
meredith nodded until her gaze shifted to behind you were you assumed mat had just appeared. "who's this?"
"this is--"
"i'm mat," he held his hand out to shake. "her boyfriend."
meredith shakily grabbed his hand, you could see it tremble in his grip. "meredith," she practically swooned. a moment passed before she let go of his hand.
you had to keep from rolling your eyes. you were no stranger to mat's effect on women but it didn't make it any less obnoxious.
"we're looking for a dress for her to wear to the wedding," mat explained as his arm snaked around your waist. "i think she looks amazing in anything, but if you could find her something summery that matches her complexion, maybe a nice sundress, that would be very helpful."
you looked at mat like he'd grown a second and third head while meredith scrambled off to find something to fit his description. "are you okay?"
"why wouldn't i be?"
"you just listed of a theme of clothing without even batting an eyelash."
mat shrugged. "i was just being efficient. if you don't like what she picks out, we can always find something else or go somewhere else. but i thought the summery vibe would look nice with what i packed."
"and what did you pack? a white shirt and black slacks?"
"guess you'll have to find out in a few days," he quipped before lightly booping your nose.
meredith came back with an arm full of dresses and ushered the both of you back to the dressing rooms. she handed the articles of clothing to you and whisked herself away citing that she'd be around if you needed anything.
which was perfectly fine with you, it meant you didn't have an audience to trying on dresses.
"try the green one on first!" mat called as you shut the door behind you.
"you're not running the show here, barzal. as much as you would like to think otherwise."
you put the green one on first anyway.
you looked in the mirror, not sure if you liked the sleeves or the cut of the dress. was it too short for a wedding? it felt too casual.
"are you gonna show me? i'm assuming it doesn't take ten years for you to put on a dress, sweetheart," mat said.
"i'm not doing a fashion show for you, barzy."
"your boyfriend would like very much to see what you're getting, baby."
you rolled your eyes, mainly because he had a point. but amidst your irritation, hesitancy rose up but you didn't know why. mat had never given you a reason to be insecure, he was more than affirming about your place in his life and your appearance. you had no reason to be insecure, but yet it was rising up anyway.
still, you opened the door.
you poked your head out to see mat sitting on his phone until he heard the creak of the door. "well, let me see you!" he said.
you came out from behind the door as confidently as you could manage.
only for mat to let out a low whistle.
"oh shut up," you whined.
"you look good, baby," he smirked. "almost too good to wear out in public." you flushed under his scrutinizing stare that seemed to linger on some areas more than others and the nickname made heat slowly crawl up your neck.
"you're such a flatterer."
"just calling it like i see it, honey."
"will you quit it with the nicknames?" you covered your face with your hands.
"am i embarrassing you, baby?" he asked, voice much closer now. you didn't know why until you felt two hands on your waist.
"no."
mat pulled your hands down and smirked as he placed his palms back on your waist. "liar."
you rolled your eyes. "do you like the dress or not?"
"it's not about my opinion, do you like it?"
you all but stomped your foot in frustration. "mat," you whined. "what was the point of coming out here if you're just going to defer to my opinion?"
he shrugged like it wasn't bothering him to be that close to you; unlike you, whose heart was racing a mile a minute. "because i like to see dresses on pretty women, specifically you."
you shoved him away with a light push on his chest. the skirt of the dress bunching up a bit as his grip was pulled away.
"lemme see the next one!" he called as you walked back into the dressing room.
you tried on three more dresses, all of them garnering a similar reaction from mat, but none really feeling like the dress you should be wearing. none of them were nice enough to wear to the wedding without your mother, aunt, or angela saying something smart.
your hope was diminishing when you got to the final dress. it was plain in comparison to the others as far as beading and lace went, just a simple navy blue dress with a deep v and a small slit up to mid thigh. but you tried it on anyway.
"i don't know about this one, but i kinda like it. i wanted to know what you think," you said as you came out the dressing room.
mat looked up from his phone.
only for his jaw to drop.
you shifted your weight from foot to foot, back and forth, as you waited for a comment from him. mat, in all your time as friends, was never hesitant to share his opinion, but the longer he stayed silent, the more fearful you got that maybe this dress wasn't the one you should be wearing.
"do you not like it? i can--"
"no, you're getting it." he stood up and called meredith over who seemed to have been hovering just out of sight, like she was waiting for that exact moment. "she's getting this one, can you ring it up?"
meredith smiled but looked back and forth between you two. "of course, she'll have to take it off but--"
"mat, are you sure? i'm not even sure about this."
"baby," there he went, using another pet name. "you look fantastic, and even if you didn't, which you do, i took one look at your face and could tell you loved this dress. you're getting it." he said it so confidently you were inclined to believe him.
you started reaching for the tag on the dress. "how much is it--"
he ripped the tag off and handed it to meredith along with his card. "will you ring this up for us while she gets dressed, meredith?" he asked.
"mat, you don't have to pay--"
“let’s be honest, this is more for me than you." he said it so confidently, how could you possibly say no to him? "go get dressed," he said. "i'll be out here."
you quickly changed into your other clothes and grabbed the dress on your way out. mat quickly took the dress out of your hand and wrapped an arm around your shoulders. you didn't think anything of it until he pulled you in and placed a kiss on the side of your head.
you would've read into it had meredith not been in plain sight.
he must've done it to keep up the act.
meredith took the dress and wrapped it in a box that mat refused to let you carry, just like he refused to let you see the receipt. you told him that you'd just venmo him, but he ignored you all the way to the car.
preparation mode
your mom had ordered pizza for dinner which you and mat had taken up to your room. no one in your family batted an eyelash considering you both cited it as having a long day and wanting to unwind.
"so tell me about your family, the ones i haven't met yet," mat said through a mouth full of pizza.
you were currently wearing one of his t-shirts that you stole from his apartment a month ago and a pair of running shorts while you leaned back against the headboard. "well, there's my uncle mike, he's my mom's brother and the oldest in their family. for the most part he minds his business, he's on his fourth marriage and probably the last one because him and his wife don't even care to mask their indifference towards each other." you took a huge bite of your pizza and swallowed it before continuing. "then there's aunt patty who is angela's mom and she's about as nice as they come but also she's super passive aggressive and let's angela get away with everything."
"sounds like she's not actually nice, and you're just conditioned to think she is."
you rolled your eyes. "we don't have time to psychoanalyze my familial relationships, barzy."
"sure we do, if your aunt lets your bullying cousin get away with everything, then she's not actually nice."
"what does that make her then, smart ass?"
"a pawn." and he said it so lightly that you didn't even think about it for a moment. when you finally registered what he said, you furrowed your brows. so mat continued. "anyone who lets their child 'get away with everything' even when they're wrong is not a parent so much as they are a pawn in their child's game."
you blinked at him once. then a second time, wondering when your best friend had been replaced by your therapist.
"what?" he asked.
"i'm just trying to figure out what happened to my best friend. it's like you were replaced by dr. phil."
mat rolled his eyes. "i'm allowed to be wise on occasion."
"is it an occasion if it's never happened before?"
"what makes you say that?"
"i'm saying someone who gets hit in the face with a hockey stick or a puck every other game doesn't always have the best wisdom."
"but i do now! and that's what matters." he took another bite of pizza and hummed to himself.
"what?" you asked. "what was that hum about?"
"tell me about your other family members."
you explained how your cousin andrew (otherwise known as andy) was the oldest of angela's siblings and was married two years ago to his wife kelsey. they were distant from angela because she announced her engagement at kelsey's baby shower, but in true family fashion, that incident was pushed under the rug.
then there was thomas who was a year older than you and angela who had an affinity of sleeping around and generally not giving a shit about anyone or anything. he would say what he wanted when he wanted and for that reason, he was one of your favorite relatives. because, for the most part, he was the only one other than your grandmother who called angela out on her shit.
"what about your grandparents?"
you shrugged. "my grandfather died a few years ago and my grandmother is still around. she's honestly my favorite family member, though i'm sure that has nothing to do with me and cody being her favorites."
"oh i'm sure," mat said.
"and that's my mom's side of the family." you slapped your thighs and took a sip of your drink.
"what about you?"
you looked at him, confused at what he could possibly be talking about. "what about me?"
"you've told me about your family, tell me about you."
you scoffed. "mat, we're friends, what could you possibly want to know about me?"
he shrugged. "tell me something i wouldn't know. if you don't, i'm going to go downstairs and ask your mom to bring out the baby photos."
you rolled your eyes and sighed heavily, like it was some burden on you. "fine. when i was a kid, angela stuck bubble gum in my hair and i had to get a horrendous haircut. cody made fun of me until it grew out again."
"i bet you were still cute."
you got up from the bed and picked up a picture frame off your dresser. for some reason, your mother insisted on decorating your room with your worst moments, hence why your prom photo was hanging in the stair way. you handed the picture frame to mat who immediately smiled at your seven year old self smiling with two missing teeth and a shitty haircut.
"oh," he said.
"what?" you asked.
mat looked up with a huge smile on his face. "i definitely would've had a crush on you as a kid." you rolled your eyes and shoved him in the shoulder. "hey!" he protested. "i would've! you were cute!"
"shut up, you would not. i bet seven year old mat was the cutest boy in his grade and too worried about hockey to look at seven year old me."
"he might've been, i'd never know. but all i'm saying is if seven year old me knew seven year old you? he'd be in love. well, as much love as a seven year old can feel. in fact, i would've given you my favorite pokemon cards if you'd asked."
you could feel heat creeping up your neck at the idea, and how far it was from the truth. your classmates gave you hell for the way your hair looked, and it was such an odd and unbelievable story that no one took you seriously until the next school year when you grew your hair out.
"well, do you have a photo of you as a kid? it's not fair that you get unlimited access to all my childhood photos and i don't get to see you!"
mat rolled his eyes but pulled out his phone and scrolled through his camera roll. he flipped his phone around so you could see a photo of him in hockey gear with a big smile on his face. "aw mat," you cooed. "you were so cute."
"would you have had a crush on me?"
you thought about it for a moment. "i actually had a crush on this guy in my grade named frankie, so probably not."
mat's jaw dropped. "so my crush would go unrequited?"
"mat, honey, we didn't even live in the same country. this whole situation is hypothetical."
"tell me, did frankie play hockey?"
"what? no."
"was he funnier than me?"
"mat how am i supposed to know if second grade you was funnier than frankie?"
he shrugged. "i don't know. but was he?"
"he was the class clown."
mat groaned and fell back into your pillows. "seven year old mat is crushed. he stands no chance."
"honey, i cannot stress this enough, this is a hypothetical situation."
but all of a sudden, he stood up to his full height and walked towards you with the picture frame still in his hands. he placed the frame back on your dresser and closed the distance between the two of you. "what if it wasn't hypothetical?" he said, his tone shifted from playful to serious.
you locked his phone while you looked at him, to say you were confused would be an understatement. "what're you talking about?"
he shrugged and placed his hands on your waist, pulling you closer until you hips touched and it was like electricity struck your nervous system. "what if--"
a knock on the door interrupted anything mat was going to say. the two of you jumped apart. "hope you two aren't naked!" cody's voice sounded through the wooden door. "we're having a movie night and mom made it clear that you two need to be downstairs in five minutes."
"we'll be right out!" you called, though your eyes were still locked on mat's.
he reluctantly let go of you as you cleared your throat. you didn't know what was different about air around you, how it felt tense and warm at the same time.
you headed downstairs with mat trailing behind you and sat on the couch next to each other. you weren't sure what changed, but when mat put his arm around you like he had done in the past, you fought every urge to tense up. what was going on with you?
when the movie was over, and it was time for all of you to go to bed, you and mat dressed in separate rooms. you were in bed by the time he returned and you were too busy controlling your breaths to notice his hesitancy.
he called your name quietly, but you squeezed your eyes shut and evened out your breathing. mat pushed a strand of hair behind your ear as he got in bed before he wrapped an arm around your waist pulled your back to his chest.
your heart beat against your ribs loud enough you were sure he could hear it. you weren't sure why, or what it was, not even your ex boyfriend had your heart beating like that, and it took you months to get over him.
when mat finally fell asleep, you relaxed, and pulled yourself gently and slowly out of his hold.
you placed a pillow between you two.
it was on the floor on mat's side the next morning.
the "big family" dinner
"is this appropriate enough to wear to dinner tonight?" mat came into the room wearing a plain white tee and black jeans with adidas.
it should be a sin to look that good in something so simple.
"if you were anyone else, i'd say no," you replied.
he blinked. "what does that mean?"
"i mean somehow you make really plain outfits look good."
he smirked. "you saying i look good?"
"oh please. like you don't know."
mat put both of his hands in his front pockets and leaned his shoulder against the wall. "maybe, but it sounds better coming from your mouth." you rolled your eyes and shoved him aside as you gathered your clothes in your hands. "what're you wearing?"
"a shirt and shorts." you walked into the bathroom across the hall to change into your outfit before going back in the bedroom to get your shoes.
mat let out a low whistle much like he did at the boutique. "is that my shirt?"
you looked down and saw the islanders logo on the front and shrugged. "must be."
"when did you grab this?"
"must've been during one of our sleepovers." you walked right out of the room and down the stairs to join the rest of your family. the six of you (your father, mother, brother, his girlfriend, mat, and you) would be riding in two separate cars. cody tried to convince your parents that mat should ride with them while you rode with him, but you quickly shot that idea down. you wouldn't say you were embarrassed of your parents, but you surely weren't going to leave mat to his own devices with them.
which is how you ended up sitting in the backseat of your dad's subaru with a foot of space between you and mat.
"mat, honey, tell us about your family! do you have any siblings?" your mother asked from the front seat she tried to give him earlier.
"you have longer legs!" she said.
"and my dad would literally punch me in the chest if i didn't let you sit shotgun," mat replied.
"i have a sister, her name's liana."
"oh, liana!" your mother gushed. "what a beautiful name! i should've named you that, honey!"
"mom," you whined. "you don't think it would be weird to have the same name as mat's sister?"
she hummed. "i guess, when you put it that way..." your mother shook her head. "how'd you get into hockey, mat?"
"mom, mat's gonna be interrogated all night long, can we save the questions for later?"
"baby, it's fine," mat assured you. your heart picked up just a little at the pet name but settled down when he turned his attention back to your mom. "i grew up playing it," he said. "my dad used to play as well."
it was like your mom fell in love with your boyfriend even more. "see honey? he continued a tradition that his father set for him!" you kept yourself from snarking back and rolling your eyes and just smiled. "i wanted my daughter to be a nurse like me," she explained to mat. "but she wasn't interested."
"mom, i can barely handle the sight of blood and you thought i would be okay in the icu?"
mat cackled. "you should see her when i have cuts and bruises from games, she pulls out gloves and about douses my wounds in peroxide."
"i'm not gonna get a blood borne disease because of you, barzal," you replied.
he rolled his eyes but smiled at you anyway.
you zoned out for the rest of the car ride as your aunt's house grew closer. mat, ever the observant friend, reached out and grabbed your hand in his, squeezing it three times until you looked at him.
"you okay?" he mouthed. when you finally nodded he sighed and brought your hands to his lips, kissing it once before placing your joined hands between the two of you. your heart soared at the gesture, but you looked back out the window before he could see it.
your father parked the car in front of a giant house you were all too familiar with. memories flashed before your eyes of summers spent swimming in the pool in the backyard and playing with toys in angela's room.
"be on your best behavior," your mom directed towards you with a knowing look in her eyes. you weren't sure why, you hadn't made a scene in years, though you were contemplating it if your mom kept harassing you.
you and mat slid out of the backseat and followed your parents to the front door. your mom didn't even bother knocking; she opened the door and left it open for the rest of you to follow. mat trailed behind you, grabbing your hand at the last minute before walking through the front door.
you were immediately accosted by a plethora of voices and music, unknowingly, you gripped mat's hand a little tighter as your aunt rounded the corner with a glass of champagne and a large smile. you saw as she greeted your parents with hugs, careful not to spill her drink. when her eyes focused on you, or rather the hand you were holding, there was a sense of smug satisfaction that occurred when you saw the poorly disguised shock on her face.
"hey!" she greeted. "i see you brought a friend."
before you could say anything, mat was taking his hand out of yours and shaking your aunt's hand. "i'm mat, the boyfriend."
aunt patty smiled and then looked at you, like she was evaluating something. "nice to meet you, mat," she said before bringing you into a hug and giving the same salutation she gave your parents. "angela will be excited to see you, both of you!" she said.
doubtful, you thought. very doubtful.
aunt patty ushered the both of you further into the house; mat's hand returned to holding yours until it was time to go outside in the backyard and join the rest of the family, then his hand moved to your lower back.
the two of you walked outside and watched as your family mingled in the backyard.
"who do we talk to first?" mat asked.
you shook your head. "no one. we go grab food first. my family is easier to handle with food."
mat nodded and followed your lead to the table with assorted finger foods on it. the two of you grabbed a plate full of food and found a table to sit.
it wasn't long before the table filled up with cody and his girlfriend who'd arrived moments after you did.
"did you give him the family run down?" cody asked before taking a bite out of one of his deviled eggs.
"this isn't amateur hour, cody. i spent the entire evening yesterday prepping him."
and a coffee date and plane ride dedicated to perfecting a fabricated story.
as if reminded that you two had appearances to keep up, mat reached back and draped his arm around the back of your chair and leaned back in his own. he looked so comfortable doing so you would've believed him to be genuine.
it wasn't long before your other family members came over, your grandmother to start. both you and mat stood to greet her. she wasted no time pulling you into a hug and kissing your cheek, holding your face between her hands and smiling.
"my, my, my, you've grown," she said.
"you say that every time you see me, grandma," you replied.
"and i mean it every time." her eyes dart to over your shoulder where you're positive mat is towering over you. "and who is this?" she asked, but it was clear by the smirk on her face that she already knew. the entire family probably knew given how much your mother liked to talk about your love life.
"i'm mat," he said and extended a hand out to shake.
your grandmother immediately let go of you and all but pushed you out of the way to hug mat who didn't even hesitate to embrace her back. when your grandmother pulled away she smiled and glanced back and forth between you and mat.
"so you're the gentleman who stole my baby's heart?"
mat gave your grandmother a megawatt smile. "no ma'am, you have it backwards. i just tricked her into dating me, still not sure how i accomplished it though."
your grandmother looked back at you and all but swooned. "you didn't tell me how handsome he was."
you blinked. you weren't sure what kind of magic ability mat had but the fact that you grandmother looked ready to become a cougar or push you down the aisle said something.
"didn't think he was your type, grandma."
she rolled her eyes but the smile on her lips said enough. "you and that attitude, girl, i've missed it. i hope she doesn't give you this much trouble, mat."
he only reached around your grandmother and tugged you into his chest. "oh this one? she usually gives me a run for my money," he said before placing a kiss on the top of your head.
your grandmother looked at you and smiled.
and just like that, he'd won over your grandmother's approval. it was a record for you, actually. even your best boyfriend had to meet her several times to win her over.
and mat did it in a matter of minutes.
really, it wasn't fair how charming he was.
"well," she said. "i'll let you two finish eating, i'm sure your cousin will make her way over here at some point." and on cue, your grandmother and you met eyes and shared an understanding. while your grandma loved angela, she, unlike your aunt, was not blind to the passive aggressive comments made by your cousin over the years.
mat pulled your chair out and pushed it in as you sat down before taking his place next to you. his hand immediately made its way onto your thigh, his thumb stroking the outside of your leg.
he leaned in and murmured in your ear. "that went well."
you swallowed the weird sensation in your throat that probably had nothing to do with his touch and proximity.
"a little too well if you ask me," you replied. "she likes you a lot more than my other boyfriends."
mat shrugged like that wasn't the highest praise you could give him. "to be fair, your exes have always been shit."
"they have not!"
cody chimed in from across the table. "they have." you glared at him but he seemed unfazed. "do you want me to tally the boys you've brought home?" but he didn't even give you a chance to answer before he started listing your exes on his fingers. "there was cole who skipped your birthday because it wasn't important. then there was conrad who had the weird relationship with his sister. then there was randall who wouldn't speak to you for days on end and then text you out of the blue."
you rolled your eyes. "those don't count, those were high school boyfriends."
cody deadpanned, though you both knew he skipped one particular boyfriend who happened to be the shittiest. "oh i can skip straight to college and post college if you'd like. you've given me plenty of material to work with." so he continued. "there was yohan who didn't have a bed frame, just a mattress on the floor."
"we were in college!"
mat chimed in. "a mattress on the floor is bad, babe. you can't excuse that."
you huffed and sat back in your chair as cody kept going.
"what about peter who refused to ever get your number and only communicated through snapchat? or lance who had the armpit fetish?"
mat nearly spit out his drink. "a what? what does that even mean?"
you groaned and put your head in your hands until a new voice chimed in.
"it means that she wore a lot of tank tops when they dated, per his request. isn't that right?"
you looked up and saw the rock on her hand before you ever saw her face.
"angela," you said and tried to smile, though the poorly masked snicker made by cody told you it probably looked more like a grimace. "hey, long time no see."
"alright, that's our cue, harper," cody mumbled before him and his girlfriend left the table.
she smiled and fixed her eyes on mat. "and who is this?"
mat, as if sensing the challenge she was presenting, moved his hand from your thigh to around your shoulder. unlike meeting your grandmother, he didn't stand up or offer a hand, he just nodded and smile. "i'm mat."
"and who is 'mat?'" she asked in what she believed was a charming way.
you had to keep yourself from rolling your eyes.
"i'm her boyfriend," mat said before placing a kiss on the side of your head. it was with premature smug satisfaction that you witnessed the smile on angela's lips falter just a little. but then you remembered the times before when you introduced boyfriends to family and how angela looked at them with some sort of predatory gleam in her eyes when met with a challenge.
and mat's indifference to her was the biggest challenge of all.
a tall blond man walked over and wrapped an arm around angela's waist. "baby," he said. "i got you a drink." and he handed her a flute of champagne.
she sipped it but never took her eyes off mat.
"who're you?" owen asked. you had to keep yourself from rolling your eyes. all those years ago, you thought his blunt ways of communicating were charming, now they just grated on your nerves.
"honey, this is mat, the infamous plus one."
"boyfriend," mat corrected. "simple mistake, i get it. it's not like the rsvp's asked for a relationship definition or anything."
"how long have you two been together?" owen asked.
"a few months," you answered in unison, which immediately made angela quirk a brow. you started sweating, your hands started shaking in your lap.
almost as if sensing your nerves, mat reached over with the hand that wasn't around you shoulders, and placed it on your thigh, rubbing smooth circles into your skin.
goosebumps formed on your skin, but for an entirely different reason that a cold breeze considering it was nearly sweltering outside.
"we've been friends for awhile though," mat said. "known each other for about as long as we've been in new york."
angela hummed, but didn't seem convinced. "okay," she smiled. "enjoy the party."
when she walked away with owen in tow, you let out a sigh.
"you okay?" mat mumbled.
"that went better than i thought."
"i thought you said she was mean," mat said.
"she typically is, maybe she's changed though. it's been a minute since i came home."
mat hummed, but maybe your earlier conversations convinced him of angela's normal behavior, because he didn't seem like he believed you.
"don't hum at me," you said. "she could!"
mat shrugged and leaned back in his chair, his hand squeezed your shoulder where it rested. "okay," he said before placing a kiss on your temple. "i trust you."
the night continued on without much incident. cody got a little too drunk, but that was to be expected. your uncle, his wife, and your cousins all came by and said their hellos, but for the most part, you and mat just stayed at the table and talked.
it was moments like that when you forgot how easy it was to just be with him. you couldn't count the amount of times you found yourself sitting on his couch with your head in his lap, his hand in your hair, as you ranted about your shitty day at work or a frustrating phone call with your parents. days like that were typical with mat, because he made it so easy to just be.
you felt most like yourself when you were with him.
and sure it sounded a little codependent, but you were almost positive he was your other half.
but not in a romantic way.
never in a romantic way.
after all, he was way out of your league. the amount times he had women approach him at bars when the two of you went out were astronomical.
you were forever the friend, and you weren't really all that upset about it. so long as you had mat, you'd take him in whatever capacity he'd give you.
the night was quickly coming to an end. harper had cody's arm wrapped around her shoulder, assuring everyone she would be driving them home. mat's hand had found a new home on the small of your back as he guided you out and back towards the front door, following your parents who insisted on hugging every family member goodbye.
you felt your body lean into mat's touch and the side of his body, your own feeling drained and exhausted.
"hey," he leaned down and mumbled in your ear. "i'm gonna go to the bathroom, i'll meet you at the car?"
you looked up at him, faces close together. you were taken back to earlier when you almost kissed and for a moment, you found yourself imagining a world where you could. where you could lean up and figure out what chapstick he used.
"yeah," you stuttered out when it was clear you'd stayed quiet too long.
"great," he smiled before kissing your cheek and disappearing down the hallway.
you were immediately crowded by your mom, aunt, and to your displeasure, angela.
your cousin stumbled up to you with a bright smile on her face as both of your mothers talked to each other. "your friend was cute," she said. "wouldn't mind running away with him." she giggled, but you saw the truth in her eyes, the calculated stumbles and fake drunken smiles.
"oh, angie's had too much to drink," your aunt said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "you know how drunk people can be."
"i've always heard drunk words are sober thoughts," you stated.
your mom scoffed and waved a hand in the air. "oh honey, that's just a saying, angela doesn't mean what she says, not while she's intoxicated. after all, i have done plenty of things while drunk that i didn't mean in the morning."
you squinted at your mother, completely baffled by her excusing of angela. which, after all these years, shouldn't surprise you.
"what'd i miss?" mat popped back next to you like he was summoned.
"oh nothing--" your mother started.
"mat!" angela screamed, throwing her hands up in the air before wrapping them around his shoulders. "if i wasn't getting married tomorrow, i'd run away with you! it's too bad my cousin here didn't introduce us before!"
mat peeled her arms off his body and pushed her away as gently as he could. "before what? before you stole her high school boyfriend?"
what.
the hell.
angela's smile dropped right as your mom's and aunt's eyes widened. "and i'm not a fan of running." he grabbed your hand and pulled you out the front door, and waved down harper who was about to pull out of the driveway.
"we rode with my parents," you said, still in a daze from what he said.
"we're riding with harper and cody back," was all he said.
harper unlocked the doors for you and mat but didn't even bother asking why the two of you decided to switch rides.
the drive back to your childhood home was pretty quiet save for the country music playing softly over the radio. it wasn't your favorite genre, but you weren't going to complain.
by the time you made it home, you were exhausted. mat trailed you up the stairs after locking the front door behind him because harper mentioned something about taking cody back to their apartment instead of staying.
when he finally walked in the room, you were already changing out of your shorts. maybe it was a testament to how tired you were, or how long you had known each other that made you not give a shit about changing in front of him. you did, however, try to stay decent, so you waited until you had your pajama shirt on to remove your bra before sliding into bed.
mat had apparently walked out of the room to change while you had your back to the door because he came walking back in wearing basketball shorts and a tee shirt, like he did the other nights.
"you okay?" he asked, getting in to bed and sliding next to you. he bumped his shoulder with yours.
"why wouldn't i be?" but you wouldn't look him in the eyes.
"c'mon," he said. "you can be honest with me. i'm your best friend."
your eyes watered at his words, the ones he spoke in front of your family, and the ones he spoke just then. "thank you," was all you could get out.
he pulled you into his arms and for a moment, you were taken back to similar circumstances.
like when you watched marley and me. or when your neighbor with the cute dog moved away.
mat had always been there.
"what're you thanking me for?"
"no one's ever stood up to her like that."
mat scoffed. "i wasn't just gonna let her disrespect our relationship like that, real or fake." he kissed the top of your head. "i almost didn't say anything, wanted to keep the peace, but then i saw the look on your face and couldn't keep quiet."
"what look?"
"the kicked puppy look." you looked up at him as his thumb stroked a line on your cheek. something must've passed over your face because his thumb stopped its motion. "what?" you sighed and shook your head. "c'mon," he said. "you can tell me."
you sighed. "i just--i don't want her to take you away."
mat tilted your chin up and ducked his head down so your foreheads touched. "you're not gonna lose me, especially not to your cousin, okay?" you nodded. "i need to hear you say it, baby."
but how could you talk when he called you by pet names? how could you breathe when you could kiss him if you just lifted your chin.
damn.
did he know the effect he had on you?
"baby," he prompted.
"okay," you said. "i trust you."
"and that's all i ask." he kissed your forehead and pulled away, all too soon if anyone asked you. "now, let's watch a movie, i need to destress after tonight."
you settled into the pillows and laid your head on mat's chest as he scrolled through netflix with one hand; the other arm was wrapped around your back.
the wedding
the next two days were spent with you and mat walking around the city, nothing noteworthy happened.
but you woke up on the day of the wedding dreading what was to come.
the ceremony itself wasn't until that night, which gave you the entire day to worry about angela and mat.
his words should've comforted you, but you were too caught up in why you cared. he was your best friend, angela didn't want him that way. and mat was too loyal to let a girl come between your friendship, he never let it happen with his previous girlfriends.
but there would be times when you wouldn't be together that night. could you honestly expect mat to hang around the women's bathroom every time you needed to use it? you were lucky he got along with your brother and your grandmother as well as he did, but your grandmother would definitely leave early and cody would definitely ditch anyone in a heartbeat if it meant he'd get laid.
"you okay?" mat asked, placing his hands on your shoulders as you stared in the bathroom mirror. "you've been in here a minute. at first i thought you were taking a shit, but you left the door open." he rested his head on top of yours and made eye contact with you in the mirror.
"just stressed about tonight," you admitted.
"you got nothing to stress over, you got me, and we're not getting married. we'll just get drunk and party. sounds like a great time to me!"
"god, if i'm like this at someone else's wedding, i can't imagine what i'd be like at my own."
mat shrugged. "i wouldn't let you be stressed. i’d make sure to give you the wedding you want."
you pulled away and turned around, brows pulled together like attracting magnets. "wouldn’t that be weird though? you making sure my wedding was what i wanted?"
"considering it would be my wedding too, no i don't think it would be weird." he shrugged and said it so casually, you almost didn't register what he said. but when it sunk in, your cheeks heated up and you broke eye contact before lightly shoving him away.
"you're such a flirt," you said, hoping it wouldn't give away the way your heart raced in your chest.
"doesn't mean it isn't true!" he called after you. mat flicked on the fan and shut the door. "now watch a movie, i don't want you to hear me shit."
"we're not even in the same room, dipshit!" you laughed before heading back to your room and turning on netflix.
mat joined you after about ten minutes in the bathroom and the two of you watched a movie until your parents shouted from downstairs to start getting ready.
you got ready in the bathroom simply because that was where you makeup was. mat took the bedroom simply because it was easier. you put on your dress, fluffing out the ends to make sure no part of it was wrinkled before you started on your makeup.
you were finished rather quickly, mainly because mat kept calling your name like a child, waiting for you to fix his tie because he didn't know how to.
when you walked out of the bathroom, though, mat met you in the hallway. his eyes were focused on the tie in his hands until he heard the door open. he glanced up and his jaw dropped.
"fuck," he mumbled.
you could feel the heat going up your chest and your neck until it settled in your face. "do i look okay?"
mat swallowed and nodded. your normally chatty best friend was rendered speechless for the first time since you met him. he cleared his throat and gestured to you. "i knew buying that dress was a good move."
you rolled your eyes and smiled as you walked over to him. you took the tie out of his hand and wrapped it around his neck, tying a windsor knot until it was snug against his throat.
"i think you're trying to choke me."
you scoffed. "if you learned how to tie a tie, this wouldn't be a problem."
"if i learned how to tie a tie, i wouldn't have an excuse to be this close to you." his hands snaked around your waist and pulled your hips close to his.
"you should know you don't need an excuse to get close to me." you tried out the flirtation a little, unsure if he was joking or not, but given how his eyes lit up just a bit, you were pretty confident he was serious.
"baby--"
"sweetheart! we need to be leaving soon!" your mother called up the stairs.
you and mat sprung apart like the other had spontaneously caught on fire. neither of you would make eye contact too embarrassed to have been interrupted by your mother. though you couldn't meet each other's eyes, you managed to see mat gesture for you to go down the stairs first.
"you both look so cute!" your mother gushed as both you and mat entered the living room. "go stand in front of the fireplace! i have to get your picture."
you rolled your eyes. "mom, this isn't prom night." but mat was already tugging you over to where your mom was pointing and wrapping and arm around your waist.
your mom snapped a few pictures before hurrying the two of you and your father out the door. the wedding didn't start for another hour, but the venue was thirty minutes away and your mom wanted to make sure your aunt wasn't going to have an aneurysm.
mat held your hand as you walked down the front porch stairs towards the car. his grip was tight and firm. when you finally joined him on the sidewalk, you expected him to drop his hand, but he held onto it even tighter, lightly swinging it between your bodies.
he didn't let go until you got into the back seat of your mom's car.
he lightly chatted with your parents while you stared at the space between the two of you. the entire week had your mind whirling, you two were just friends, but sharing a bed, the physical closeness, the flirting, the near kisses, it was all driving you insane.
sure, you thought mat was good looking, but you'd long given up the hope that he'd ever like you. he was mat and you were you. even if there wasn't a large disparity between your perception of both of your physical attributes, you still would've felt the divide.
he was everything, practically your best friend.
and that alone was too important for you to risk on some juvenile feelings.
mat nudged you with his elbow. "you okay? you've been quiet."
you blinked back into the present, noting that your mother had turned on abba and was singing to dancing queen while your father hummed the tune under his breath. both of them were too distracted to notice or hear mat's question.
you nodded, meeting his eyes briefly before looking away, too scared to get caught in their orbit once more. "yeah," you said. "just thinking."
"uh oh. that's not good," he joked. but you didn't laugh. his face turned serious and he nudged you once more before grabbing your hand in his own. "you can tell me anything, you know that right?"
"of course," you replied.
he squeezed your hand twice and didn't let go until you got out of the car.
as your father pulled into the parking lot, you got a good view of the venue. a large building with tall windows and music blasting throughout the open doors.
once you got inside, your eyes were immediately overwhelmed by the visual stimulation of large flower arrangements everywhere with the most pricey looking lighting fixtures dangling from the ceiling.
it was extravagant, and everything you would've expected angela's wedding to look like.
"oh god," mat mumbled under his breath, loud enough just for you to hear. he leaned down, placing his hand on the small of your back. "remind me not to do this much at my wedding."
you rolled your eyes. "what if it's what your bride wants?"
he paused. "do you want something like this?"
"god no."
"then i don't need to worry."
you lightly shoved his shoulder. "quit joking."
"who said i was joking?" he asked.
you stared at him until your dad cleared his throat and reminded the two of you that you still needed to find your seats at the ceremony.
"honey," your mother grabbed your arm. "do you want to come with me to see angela? i'm just gonna check on her and your aunt to make sure everything is ready and together."
you were shaking your head before she could even finish getting the words out. "nope."
"honey, it's your cousin's wedding."
"and she didn't even make me a bridesmaid. i'm sure she'll be fine waiting until the reception to see me."
"i thought you weren't angry about that! i told you not to take it personal."
it took every ounce of will not to roll your eyes. mainly because mat was standing there, and if you let it slip how frustrated you were, he might step in and make your mom hate him. "i don't care, mom. but if she wanted me to see her before the wedding, she would've made her part of her bridal party. but she didn't so i'll see her when she walks down the aisle." with that off your chest, you grabbed mat's hand and marched towards the group of chairs where the ceremony would take place.
you quickly chose a seat close enough to see the actual ceremony happen without being too close that you could see angela promise her life away to the ex she stole from you.
"that was intense," mat commented. "you sure you're okay?"
you sighed and contemplated putting your face in your hands if it wasn't for the makeup you put on earlier. "i don't know why she wants me and angela to act like we're best friends, it's gone on like this for our entire lives, but it's never worked. angela has never liked me, and i'm tired of pretending like it's my fault. i don't even know what i did to make her constantly try to undermine me."
mat looked around before grabbing your hand and tugging you towards what you guessed were the bathrooms, away from the prying eyes of nosy guests.
"it's not your fault," he said, bending down so you could look each other in the eyes. "there's nothing wrong with you, either, okay? she's blind if she can't see how amazing you are. and your mom is wrong for trying to force a friendship. you understand?"
you nodded.
"i need to hear you say it, baby."
"i understand." a beat later. "thanks, mat."
he kissed your forehead and grabbed your hand. "anytime."
the two of you found your old seats taken by an older couple, so you sat in the same row as cody and harper who had shown up while you were gone.
the wedding started shortly thereafter with your parents joining you in the same row. your mother looked relatively calm for what you knew had to be a shitshow in the back room. angela was very particular, and while there was nothing wrong with that were it anyone else, your cousin's strong opinions often stressed your mother and aunt out.
the music started playing and the bridesmaids started walking down the aisle with the groomsmen and owen. you didn't recognize most of the girls, probably because you hadn't been around angela's friends since high school and you never came to her birthday parties after you graduated (not that she invited you anyway). the one bridesmaid you did recognize was meredith from the dress shop. she looked beautiful in her lilac dress. and her smile did nothing to giveaway what chaos the dressing room was in before she walked out.
with everyone in their places at the front, the music changed tune. every guest, including you, stood to their feet and turned around. everyone watched as the double doors opened and angela came walking down the aisle in a princess gown with her father escorting her.
she smiled brightly, probably basking in the attention she was receiving. she didn't even look at owen until she got close enough to the front that there was no one else for her to smile at.
i'd do it differently, you thought. when i get married, i won't be able to take my eyes off his face.
the officiant told everyone to sit and continued on with the ceremony. you mostly blocked it out, peering at mat who looked more interested in the ceremony than you were. he caught your stare a few times and smirked before grabbing hold of your hand and kissing the back of it.
and your heart soared every time.
mat was an affectionate friend, this much you knew. anytime you picked him up from a roadie, or when he came over after you just got back into town, he'd hold you in a death grip hug for five minutes at the very least. most of the hugs involved the two of you swaying side to side with mat mumbling how much he missed you into your neck.
all that to say, you weren't a stranger to his affection.
you were, however, unused to the kisses and pet names, all of which started as soon as you introduced him to your family.
it was the crowd cheering that startled you out of your stupor. you glanced at the front to see owen dipping angela in a kiss while the photographer captured the moment.
and maybe it was the bitterness in your chest speaking for the teenager who lost her first serious boyfriend, but the kiss itself looked more performative than like true love.
mat extended a hand to you when you realized everyone was standing and heading to the tables to eat.
"you alright?" he asked once your hand was secured in his own. "you keep zoning out."
you shrugged. "just thinking."
"about?"
"how do you know if you love someone?" you asked, replaying angela and owen's kiss in your mind. you were so preoccupied, you didn't notice mat scratching the back of his head and blushing.
"well, you uh," he stuttered. "why're you asking me? haven't you been in love before?"
he wouldn't meet your eyes, his own kept focusing on avoiding bumping into people as you made your way to an open table. mat pulled your chair out and didn't sit down until you did.
"i don't know," you continued on. "i thought i was, but i never saw forever with those guys."
"thank god," he mumbled.
"what?"
he looked up all doe eyed and innocent. "hm?"
"what did you say?"
he shrugged. "i didn't say anything. you must be hearing things."
you rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips said you weren't really bothered by his lies.
cody and harper joined you at the table; your parents took the last two seats. all six of you sipped at the water on the table and waited for your dinners to be ready.
"so," harper started. "what did everyone think of the ceremony?"
you could've groaned, not because you weren't interested in weddings, you loved them.
just not angela's.
and talking about all the beautiful aspects of it sounded like a violation of your eighth amendment rights.
"oh it was so gorgeous, she looked fantastic," your mother supplied, fawning over your cousin as usual. but it was when she looked around the room before she leaned into the table that your attention was piqued. "patty was scared the wedding would need to be called off. said something about how owen was getting cold feet, she wouldn't say why though."
were you a horrible person for internally rejoicing at angela's possible stressor?
maybe just a little.
but you'd taken the high road your entire life. so in your opinion, it was warranted and earned.
mat nudged your knee with his. "at least look concerned," he mumbled with a smirk playing on his lips.
"i do! i am!" you said just loud enough for him to hear. mat looked at you until you cracked under his gaze. "okay, so i might be just a little smug, sue me."
he rolled his eyes, but the smile playing on his lips said he was far from annoyed.
your family continued to make idle chatter until the dj started announcing the bridal party. it wasn't anything that hadn't been done before; the bridesmaids and groomsmen danced their way into the room. moments later, angela and owen came in with their hands riased and cheering along with everyone else. your entire table joined in with the other guests and clapped and hollered until it was no longer socially acceptable.
dinner came out shortly thereafter.
again, it was nothing that hadn't been done before. a simple pasta dish with a side salad wasn't anything to celebrate. the food was absolutely delicious, you wouldn't lie about that, it was just interesting that angela, who prided herself on being different, had planned a party that didn't even crack your top ten favorite weddings.
but she'd never sought your approval anyway, so why would she start now?
you were shocked out of your intense thoughtfulness by an arm wrapping around your shoulder. mat didn't even look phased as he pulled you just a little closer to him, talking with your dad about the upcoming season like they'd been friends for ages.
the weight of his arm was comforting, reminding you of times he'd slung it across your shoulders after a game and pressed a kiss to your temple or when you sat next to each other at bars.
others had looked at your relationship with a microscope. sydney and grace both had asked multiple times if there was something more with the two of you and looked skeptical whenever you gave them a funny look while saying no.
he was your best friend, always would be so long as you never fucked anything up.
"how's your pasta?" mat asked.
you blinked. "same as yours."
he rolled his eyes yet again and kissed your temple. "smart ass," he mumbled against your skin.
dinner was barely over when music started playing, marking the sign of the first dance. angela and owen danced to "can't help falling in love" while everyone looked on. they didn't talk, they seldom even smiled until, like they were suddenly struck by electricity, they remembered they were being photographed and had all eyes on them.
you bided your time, sipping the water in your glass, because you knew mat was gonna drag your ass onto the dance floor like he had before at other parties and weddings.
sure enough, as soon as the song ended and the party music started, mat's hand was in yours, tugging you towards the center of the floor.
you dragged your feet as a front, just wanting to prolong the feeling of his palm encircling your own. you didn't know the name of the song, just like you didn't understand the light feeling in your stomach when mat pulled you close and placed his hands on your waist.
"in case i forgot to tell you," he shouted into your ear over the pumping music. "you look really pretty tonight."
you could feel the heat crawl up your neck. you ducked your head so you couldn't see him, but he pulled your chin up to look him in the eyes.
"don't get shy on me now," he teased, though his eyes weren't full of mirth like they usually were. they were soft, like sunlight filtered through a bedroom window. "come dance with me."
the two of you danced, hips shaking and moving to the beat of the music. mat always had a grip on you, whether he was twirling you around or had both hands on your hips.
you couldn't remember ever having this much fun at a wedding.
who would've thought it would've been angela's wedding?
but the music slowed down, usually signaling that it was your time to sit back down until hey ya! came on. so you made a move to step off the dance floor and head back to where your brother sat nursing a glass of bourbon, but it was a callused hand that kept you in place.
"where do you think you're going, baby?" he asked, a smirk playing on his lips. "you owe me a dance."
you hesitated, knowing that in the past, you'd danced the night away, but with him here, in front of your family, with your grandmother giving you a smile, you didn't know you could fake it any longer. you couldn't keep pretending that you weren't completely infatuated, overcome with love for your best friend.
your hand would've started shaking had he not had a steady grip on you.
mat pulled you close. "c'mon, i won't even step on your toes. i promise."
you relented and let him pull you back into the middle of the floor. he placed his hands on your waist and, for a moment, you thought you were dreaming. in another life, you'd be wearing white and be the prettiest person in the room. in another life, you'd have matching gold bands on your fourth fingers.
in another life, he'd be yours.
you wrapped your hands around the back on his neck, playing with the hair there absentmindedly.
"you're far away," he said. "come back to earth for a minute. what're you thinking about?"
you shrugged. "wondering if i'll ever get this," you answered honestly, even going as far as looking him in the eyes as you spoke.
"you'll get it," he said without a doubt in the world to be found. "i'll make sure of it."
"what about you? do you want something like this?"
he glanced around the room, eyes landing on the newly married couple in the center. "not if i'm not marrying you."
you blinked, heart in your throat. he looked so honest, but you'd known him long enough, seen who he's dated too many times, to know he was joking.
he had to be.
right?
so you laughed, closing your eyes and tilting your head back so that you unintentionally missed the small look of confusion married with hurt on mat's face. you did it to protect yourself, to keep yourself from getting hurt, and unintentionally hurting him in the process.
"i can never tell when you're joking, barzy," you smiled, hoping it covered the shake in your voice.
"but i--"
"may i cut in?" you glanced to your left and saw your smiling grandmother.
"oh i--" mat stuttered, flustered in a way you'd never seen before.
"sure!" you interrupted his train of thought. "i have to pee anyway."
besides, mat was probably safest with her anyway. angela wouldn't try anything while your grandmother was standing there.
you stepped away, waist feeling cold from the lack of contact and made your way towards the bathrooms.
it wasn't that hard to find the restroom, it was just a longer hallway. but it was far enough from the reception that the music was only a faint bass noise.
you walked into the bathroom and did your business. fluffing your hair and fixing your dress in the mirror when you'd finished washing your hands. you opened the door and saw shiny black shoes before you saw the man standing across from the woman's bathroom.
"owen?" you asked. "the men's bathroom is a little further down the hall."
"i know," he said, pushing off the wall to move closer to you.
red flag.
"what?" you asked, moving slightly out of the way so he couldn't push you back into the bathroom. "have you been drinking?"
"sober as a judge."
you furrowed your brows. "what?"
he took another step closer to you while you quickly turned so your back was no longer against a wall, but towards the party. if he kept advancing towards you, the weird tension would soon be out in the open and surely he would stop then.
right?
"i'm sorry for what i did back in high school."
"owen, what are you talking about?"
"for cheating on you. you're all i've ever wanted and it's my biggest regret to this day that i ever let you go."
you were gonna be sick.
"owen, you don't know what you're talking about. you love angela. you got married to angela. she is your wife."
"but i want you." he reached out to touch your hair but you backed up quick enough to just miss his hand.
"no you don't," you said. "you decided i wasn't enough nearly ten years ago."
"but you looked so good and so happy with him, with max or whatever his name is--"
"--mat--"you corrected.
"--it made me miss us. don't you miss me?"
"i don't even know who you are anymore, owen! that person you knew in high school isn't me anymore, and you don't get to decide you want me now just because i'm happy and you aren't."
"we were so good together!"
"we were sixteen, owen! we were children."
"but--"
"i gave you just about everything i could possibly give, and you decided it wasn't enough. you decided to get with my cousin while we were dating instead of breaking up with me. you decided to marry her. and now you get to live with that decision." you spun on your heel and were met with mat's stare. even in the dim lighting, you could see his jaw clenched.
"mat," you breathed like it was your last breath.
"you okay?" he asked.
"yeah," you said. "just telling owen where the bathroom was."
you both knew it was a lie, especially if the look on mat's face was any indication, he'd probably heard enough of the conversation. you allowed yourself to be guided back to the recpetion with mat's hand firmly placed on the small of your back.
you two kept dancing until it was time to send angela and owen off. while mat gathered your things, you said goodbye to your extended family members because you two were leaving tomorrow afternoon to head back to new york.
which scared you.
this last week had been amazing. pretending and playing house with mat meant unlocking feelings you'd pretended didn't exist for the entire duration of your friendship. and while you wished you'd never unlocked pandora's box, part of you was happy you could never go back.
a warm and weathered hand tugged on your forearm and snapped you out of your reverie. "don't let that boy go." when you looked down, your grandmother was staring at you with earnest eyes. "he loves you the way you deserve to be loved."
your eyes welled up with tears as you hugged her. "thanks, grandma."
"i mean it. don't come back without him, you hear me? i need great grand babies soon."
you flushed at the idea and whined. "please don't tell me you said that to him!"
but she didn't answer you, she just laughed.
"you ready?" mat asked, walking over with your brother and harper following closely behind. "cody said he'd give us a ride home."
"treat my baby right, mathew," your grandmother said. "or else i'll have to fly to new york and kill you, you hear?"
he smiled. "yes ma'am."
you hugged your grandmother tight. "i love you."
"love you more."
mat ushered you outside, following behind cody and harper to their car. none of you were interested in the send off, even if was only going to take a few seconds.
the four of you got into cody's car and drove off before your parents could admonish you for leaving early. cody and harper talked amongst themselves about bills and what their own wedding would look like whenever cody proposed (and if you knew him like you thought you did, it would be soon) while you and mat just held hands in the backseat.
it was weird, the physical touch even when no one was looking. but you weren't complaining about it, if anything, you were clinging to it, scared that once it finally ended you'd go into withdrawal.
cody parked outside of your parents house and let you and mat in before driving off. you headed upstairs, with mat on your tail, ready to get undressed and to curl up in bed with a stupid movie.
"that was fun," mat said. "did you have fun?"
you sat down on your bed and started taking off your shoes. "i always have fun when i'm with you," you said absentmindedly. a moment of silence passed. you looked up to see mat shifting from side to side. "are you okay?"
"what did owen want?" he asked honestly.
you sighed and stood up, walking towards him. "i'm not even sure. he started professing how much he missed me, but i shut it down because i don't have feelings for him."
a glimmer of hope. "you don't?"
"nope."
he nodded. "good."
you took a deep breath and stepped closer to him. "i could never go through with it anyway, i'm in love with someone else." please please please don't let this past week be a joke to him. please let him be a horrible actor.
he stared at you.
a moment of silence.
his eyes searched your own, like they were looking for something.
you could feel the tears well up in your eyes at the thought of his rejection. you'd take being heartbroken, but you couldn't take losing your best friend.
and then.
his hands were on your cheeks, his lips were on yours, and your heart had jumped into your throat. your arms wrapped around his neck and into his hair.
when you finally broke apart for air, mat was smiling. "i'm guessing you were talking about me?" he asked, though the smug tone in his voice said he didn't actually need to know the answer. not when the kiss had already confirmed his suspicions.
"you're such an ass," you jokingly shoved him away, but he caught your hand and used it to pull you back in, to kiss you once more.
"but this ass loves you." he paused. "that sounded a lot more romantic in my head than it did coming out."
but you smiled anyway. "this ass loves you too, barzy."
and two years later, standing in front of everyone in a white dress, you couldn't help but smile. lying usually got you in trouble, but you couldn't have imagined a better ending.
2K notes · View notes
gyuzgrl · 12 days
Text
her //kmg//
summary- with your marriage in shambles, you find yourself at your wits end when Mingyu's infidelity comes to light. heated discussions ensue.
PLEASE WAIT FOR PT 2 I'M NOT LETTING HIM OFF THAT EASY !!!!
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Mingyu never thought he'd end up here. As tears brim over your cheeks, hurt evident in your eyes, he feels his world collapse.
Sure, he'd only married you because his father arranged it, but as your relationship comes up on its first year, he's developed certain feelings towards you. Feelings you can never know of. Feelings he thought you'd never return.
Your marriage has never been a point of envy for those around you. It's common knowledge that you and Mingyu hate each other's guts. You've made your peace with this- or at least you thought you did, until this morning, when your breakfast was interrupted by an unexpected voice message.
'hi, it's me- um I think you left your tie at my place last night... d'you wanna come get it? I've uh, I've bought that set you told me to get last week. call me back, kay? see ya'
The words ring clear as day in your head, even now, as you sob into your palms, hunched over in bed.
Filled with dread, you waited for your husband to leave the house, heading to work. You knew he would've heard the message- her message- sometime during the day, and so, you waited.
Waited for the call-
"I'll be home late today- there's an issue that came up last minute. don't wait up."
There. That same excuse you've heard night after night, for months on end. Your heart breaks when you realise that Mingyu's probably gone to see her everytime he had to 'stay late at the office'.
Although you knew going into this marriage that there would be no love, no romance, you couldn't help but hope. Hope that one day your husband would wake up and realise that he's been in love with you all along. Hope that one day the fighting and screaming would cease. Hope that one day he'd look at you like you matter to him.
Hearing the practiced ease with which Mingyu lied to you, you felt your last straw snap. No love, you could deal with. No intimacy, you could self satisfy. But no respect? Taking you for a fool, playing around behind your back, lying? You've reached a new low.
What's worse is, despite knowing that he's in the wrong here, you can't help but wonder what she has that you don't. What can you do to make him love you? How can you make him want you?
Mingyu's neglect has done permanent damage to your self esteem, and now you find yourself caught in an endless loop of obsession.
Evening rolls around and you're alone, in your big apartment, surrounded by cold, white furniture. Your house is spotless. It's clean and neat and unfamiliar. You can't call this place home. Not when nobody really lives in it.
Tears threaten to spill from your eyes as your mind fills with thoughts of your husband's infidelity. He's smiled at her, undressed her, touched her. Fuck, he probably looks at her and sees the ghost of what could've been.
No, you tell yourself. You cannot possibly be crying over a man who doesn't care about you. Where is the self respecting woman you once knew? The one that would stand up tall, make her presence felt.
Hours pass by like this, and the house grows dark. You haven't moved from your position in bed- scrunched up, hugging your knees close. You haven't eaten all day. You haven't thought of anything but Mingyu's betrayal.
There's a sharp jangle of keys sticking into the door, and you know he's here. You can't bring yourself to move, can't be bothered to greet him like you usually do.
His bag lands on the couch outside with a dull thunk, and he makes his way to the bedroom.
You should move- pretend to be asleep so he doesn't try to say anything, turn to the side so he doesn't notice your pain- but you don't. You can't, rather.
Mingyu walks in, head hanging low. He notices your frame, hunched up on the mattress, and his shoulders tense.
"you're up" he says to you, as if to confirm.
You stay silent.
"y/n?"
More silence.
Flicking the lights on now, Mingyu takes a step towards the bed, now noticing the red hot flush of tears streaming down your face.
"hey what's-" he draws closer, arm reaching out to thumb away your tears, "you're crying,"
So you did end up crying.
All the mental pep talks you gave yourself about self respect and how he doesn't deserve your tears, clearly didn't do much.
You lift a hand to your cheeks, feeling the wetness of your tears.
"oh", is all you can manage, wondering when you started crying, sitting dumbly as if under some sort of spell. Your eyes, unfocused, stare blankly at the wall in front of you, and your lips begin to quiver.
"what's wrong? oh my g- please don't cry" Mingyu panics, reaching out to grab your face, but your words have him freeze.
"don't. don't touch me."
Your voice is a whisper, trembling like a leaf, but it carries a dangerous certainty.
He backs away instantly- "is everything oka-"
This time you turn to the side, facing him properly, and something within him just knows that you know.
"oh." he breathes, eyes flashing with guilt.
"when were you going to tell me?"
When he fails to respond, you push further, voice laced with a dangerous mix of hurt and rage.
"how long have you been seeing her for? goddammit Mingyu I know you don't love me- I know you aren't happy but god how could you do this to me? to us? you have to remember, I'm just a woman at the end of the day. I'm only human- fuck" you break off into a sob, letting your words, your emotions free. It was reckless- being so raw- but there's nothing to lose anymore...
You've already lost what little you thought you had.
Your watery, blank eyes tremble upwards to meet his, and you see his face contort with an unrecognizable kind of pain. You've never seen him like this before.
"whatever you wanted, whatever you needed- you could've taken it from me, I'm your wife Mingyu. god, I feel so fucking stupid waiting for you all this while to just love me- and you've been crawling into someone else's sheets? Do I disgust you so much that you won't even touch me to satisfy yourself? Do you hate me so mu-"
"don't you dare." Mingyu interrupts, jaw tensing, "you can call me a liar, a cheat, an asshole I don't care but don't you dare try and tell me how I feel- not when you don't fucking know anything."
Your brows pinch together, an insurmountable rage boiling inside you, and you rise to your feet, standing as you face your husband.
"oh, I, don't know anything? What about you then, Mingyu? What do you know that I don't? I'm telling you how I feel 'cause I fucking see it. I see the way you look at me with that unamused, tired look in your eyes, I see how you don't talk to me, I see how you leave your stupid fucking ties at some girl's house 'cause you'd rather fuck her than touch m-"
You can't bring yourself to finish your sentence. Somehow, saying what you already know, makes if feeler so much more real. You can't bear the thought of him not loving you, not wanting you.
"you think this is what I wanted? you think I wanted to look for someone else instead of touching you? fuck y/n after all the screaming and fighting, you think I didn't wanna reach out and hold you? everyday when I get home you think I don't wan- fuck do you really think I don't wanna talk to you and hear your voice and feel you?"
You shake your head, slightly afraid of how Mingyu's eyes have darkened, taking on a crazed hue.
"my arms would never have comforted you, y/n. You thought me a stranger. How could I touch you, knowing damn well you don't want me like I want you?" He stops, chest heaving with bottled emotions, and his words ring in your head.
'you don't want me like I want you'
Trembling hands ball into fists, punching his chest as tears stream down your face. How dare he? How dare he assume that you didn't want him- that you didn't love him?
"you fucking idiot" you sob, fat tears rolling down your cheek.
There's a short pause as Mingyu derives meaning from your words, and his eyes widen.
"y-you mean to say that you lo-" he chokes back a shudder when your hands grip at the fabric of his shirt in wordless confirmation. A hand wraps around your fist, pulling you closer, and your eyes widen.
"what are you doing-"
"what I should've done a long time ago."
A swift tug has you stumbling forward, right into him, and your lips meet. Mingyu's free hand splays against your lower back, dragging you nearer- as close as physically possible- while he devours you like a prisoner on death row receiving his last meal.
It's a messy, desperate kiss, but the sparks it sends flying over your body has your knees growing weaker and weaker. His lips cradle yours, sucking, tugging, pushing, as he holds you like there's no tomorrow. Tears prick your eyes once more, but this time it's different.
Now you can feel his emotions, feel his love.
The longing, the yearning he's felt all this while, comes pouring out into the points where your bodies connect. His touch sends fire burning all over you, chasing away your despair and replacing it instead with red-hot desire.
Mingyu's tongue pushes into you, licking at the seam of your mouth, circling your tongue as he discovers you in a way he never has before. You can't help but whimper at his actions, and you find yourself getting lost in him. No sound- other than your heartbeat, thudding in your ears- is audible to you. Nothing. It's as though you're underwater, and your hearing is muffled- except this time, it's him you're drowning in.
Aching lungs remind you that air is a necessity, and you both pull away, a string of saliva connecting your crimson lips to his. The rapid rise and fall of your chest tells Mingyu to give you time, but his body doesn't listen.
The taste of you is addictive.
He pulls you in once again, ignoring the helpless gasp you let out in response. Trailing up your back, Mingyu tangles his hand into your hair, letting his palm cradle the nape of your neck. The plush surface of his lips feel sinful against yours- leaving you in desperate need of more. His tongue swipes at the seam of your mouth and you let him in, giving him access once again.
The hand holding your wrist crawls up to your palm, interlacing his fingers with yours, and squeezing tight, as if to reassure you, as if to say- 'I'm right here, I'm right here and I'm not going anywhere'
"Mingyu," you breathe against his lips, "do you reall-"
You feel his lips quirk up into a smile, letting his canines show ever so slightly, and he moves down to your neck, right below your ear.
Sucking harsh, wet love bites into the sensitive skin, he whispers-
"I love you more than words could even begin to describe"
His breath ghosts over your ear, spreading goosebumps all around your body and you shudder at the sudden stimulation. Pulling back, you look him in the eye, lust and love brewing in your own.
"so show me"
It's as though you've awoken something within him- something he's been trying to tame, to control. There's a fire burning in his eyes, dancing with danger, with desire. Without warning, Mingyu pushes into you, closing the space between your bodies, and you let out a pitiful whimper.
"will you let me?" he takes in a sharp breath, feeling your body against his.
You stare up at him, wide-eyed, and nod. Mingyu taps at your thighs, and you jump right away, trusting him blindly to catch you.
"good girl-" he rasps as his hand travels down to squeeze the curve of your ass.
Mingyu sucks bruises into your skin- neck, chest, jaw- wherever he can, and you let him, not caring about who sees them. You tip your head down to do the same, but something stops you.
A bruise.
He tugs you back, searching your eyes.
"what's wrong?"
"she's kissed you here"
He sighs.
"we don't have to do this- I've j-"
"no! no I want to- I want this god I want this I just- can I do something first?"
He nods.
"anything you want, my love"
Mingyu places you back down and lets you push him onto the bed, laying him down on his back as you crawl on top of him. Stradling his waist, you begin to unbutton his shirt, letting the crisp white fabric fall slack against your fingers.
"you're mine now, you got that?"
"all yours baby, only yours" he breathes as you part his shirt.
Your eyes skim over the hickeys painted over his chest and your heart twists painfully in your chest. Unshed tears sting at your eyes, and immediately Mingyu sits up against the headboard, holding your face.
"I'm so sorry- I- fuck we shouldn't-"
"no."
"baby..."
"no- I want these-" you motion to the bruises on his chest, "I want these off of you"
Mingyu nods silently, leaning back against the headboard, and you continue your actions. Lowering your face to his throat, you find a red-ish splotch, and attach your lips to it, sucking into the tender skin so hard it breaks, leaving a purple bruise behind.
He winces as you move to the next one, sucking harder and harder each time, desperately trying to erase the past. Observing this, Mingyu's face softens. A gentle, guilty smile stretches past his lips and he brings a hand to pat the back of your head, tangling his fingers into your hair to pull you closer- flush against his bare chest.
A yelp escapes you as you lose your balance, falling forward into him. He wraps his arms around you, holding you still as he says-
"I'm yours," He squeezes around you, nuzzling into your neck, "I can't change the past, and I'm sorry for everything I've done- sorry for hurting you the way I did"
You can feel how rapidly his heart thuds against his chest, beating on the door of his ribcage as if it wants to be let out, as if it wants to jump out of his chest, into your hands.
"it hurts," you sniffle, "it really hurts"
His fingers rub soothing circles into your skin, trying to melt away your pain, feeling his own heart shatter into a million pieces. This is of his own doing, though. Only he is to blame.
"lemme make you feel good, hm? let me show you how much you really mean to me,"
You nod, letting him move you as he pleases, until you're under him, nestled comfortably between the pillows, with him hovering over you. The veins of his forearms tense deliciously as they hold his weight, and you feel your body grow hot.
Soft moans slip out of your mouth when he lowers his face into the crook of your neck, sucking red marks into you- gentle, yet firm. His lips suction your skin, teeth nipping at the chosen spot until your skin breaks, before letting his tongue soothe over the crimson bruise.
Like this, he carves a path down your neck to the collar of your shirt, stopping right at your cleavage.
"this okay, my love?" he stares up at you, one hand shifting to tickle the hem of your shirt
"mhm"
Gently, like you're made of glass, he undresses you, gasping when he realises that you're bare underneath.
Your skin catches him off-guard, and Mingyu finds himself transfixed. Like an anchorite discovering the face of God, he stares at you in wonder, in awe, finally feeling complete.
The intensity of his stare has you nervous, and you lift your arms to cover yourself.
"do-don't stare," you mumble, cheeks growing hot as his eyes burn holes into your skin.
"can't help myself- you're so beautiful,"
"Mingyu please," you whimper, feeling wetness pool between your legs, "I need you"
Feverish hands roam over you, and his head dips into the valley of your breasts, pressing soft, wet kisses to your skin. Mingyu closes in on your breast, letting his teeth nip gently at your hardened nipple, and you gasp, feeling your body light up at the motion.
He grins against you, repeating the action and you let out a trembling whimper.
"don't tease" you plead, threading your fingers through his hair, "need you so bad Gyu,"
"I could kiss you all my life and never get enough,"
Enough said. You tug him up, pushing your lips together once again in a messy kiss. Mingyu grinds into you, and you gasp at the prominent bulge poking out of his trousers. He uses this to his advantage, pushing his tongue into you, letting the wet muscle trace over the corners of your mouth as if to memorise every texture, every taste.
You chest flutters, and you whimper into his mouth, almost losing your composure when he begins to carve a path from your lips to your stomach, leaving gentle kisses down your collarbones, chest, tummy.
Stopping at the waistband of your shorts, Mingyu looks up at you, eyes practically begging that you allow him to undress you.
"please" you whisper, head tipping back into the pillows when his hands smooth down your sides, hooking under your shorts to pull them off. Keeping his eyes trained on yours, he tugs the fabric down, tantalisingly slow.
The sensuality, the intimacy of this act finally becomes known to you, when your eyes stay stitched together, as if connected by string.
Once you're left completely bare, at his mercy, he kneels.
At the foot of the bed, as if it is your alter, Mingyu kneels, letting your ankles rest on his broad shoulders. He presses tender kisses to your limbs; ankles, calves, thighs, making his way up to his very own pot of gold.
Liquid gold.
"baby you're dripping-" he groans, almost frustrated with how stunning you look, splayed out and wet, all for him.
His kisses inch closer and closer, moving from your thighs to the tender flesh right next to your sex.
You know what comes next.
"oh"
Your lips part, settling into an 'o' shape, when Mingyu licks a long, fat stripe up your slit, stopping at your clit to prod gentle circles with the tip of his tongue.
For a man who's hasn't as much as kissed you before, he sure knows how to work your body.
Perhaps you were just made for one another.
You feel the thick trickle of arousal seeping out of your hole, and Mingyu laps it up, letting his tongue dip into you slightly, curling up to cup every last drop.
"fuck you taste divine," he groans, voice low and gruff, "better than everything I've imagined-"
Your heart swells.
"you thought abou- f-fuck Mingyu right there"
He smirks against your cunt, humming a quick affirmation that sends a jolt up your spine.
"thought of you every night, wanted to hold you, feel you-"
You gasp, gulping thickly at his words, and your mind grows fuzzy, filled with cotton as you feel your body beginning to float away.
Mingyu brings his lips around your clit, suctioning the sensitive bud out of its hiding as his tongue laps at it. Your grip on his hair tightens, and your mouth hangs open- whimpers slipping out, beyond your control.
Without warning, Mingyu slips a finger into you, pushing his way in. Your back arches off the bed, and your hips snap up, but he holds you down, basking in the long drawn moan he manages to rip from your throat.
The stretch of your walls around his digit has you whimpering and writhing under him, and you can't help but wonder how big his cock is, how it would split you open for good if his fingers are already almost too much.
As if he read your thoughts, Mingyu winces at the way you suck him in.
"so fuckin' tight-" he gasps, jaw dropping in awe at how your tiny little cunt stretches to accomodate a single finger.
With the way Mingyu worked his tongue against you, and his finger into you, it's no wonder your orgasm begins to build. You feel your body tense, on the verge of release, limbs and stomach tightening as he works against you.
"please- don't sto- oh" you shudder when his tongue presses harder.
The great wave of pleasure rises, up and up, higher and higher, ready to come crashing down any moment now, when suddenly, he plunges a second finger into you, ripping your orgasm out of you with such force, your legs tremble as a string of moans and profanities leave your parted lips.
Mingyu scissors into you, fucking you through your orgasm, as your arousal drips down his fingers, down his wrist. Your legs shake uncontrollably as he pistons in and out of you, and you shudder.
"w-wait I'm still-"
"sensitive? mm I can tell" he smirks, lowering his face back to your cunt, tongue lapping at your juices eagerly.
He prods the muscle into you, bullying it's way beside his fingers to collect the remnants of your orgasm.
"fu-" you gasp, feeling your body convulse.
Cupping his tongue, Mingyu drags your wetness up your folds, spreading it over your clit before licking firm circles around the sensitive bud.
You moan, helplessly, and your body is ablaze, nerves standing on edge from the intensity of your previous orgasm.
As he continues his assault on your overstimulated sex, you feel another orgasm build at record speed.
Feeling you clench up around his fingers, Mingyu pushes harder, licking tighter circles into your clit, and you come undone within seconds- shocking both yourself and him.
"that's it, that's my good girl," he sighs, secretly in awe of how responsive you are to his touch.
He pulls his fingers out of you, and you whimper at the sudden loss.
"patience," he soothes, tongue trailing up his wrist to the tip of his finger, taking in your arousal.
Your breath hitches at his actions.
"you taste too fucking good to waste any of this"
Rising off the floor, he licks his lips, staring down at you with adoration painted plain as day on his handsome face.
His knee presses between your legs, and you feel the bed dip under his weight. Swift hands unbuckle his belt, undoing the clasp with one hand while the other works at his buttons.
Before you know it, Mingyu's pants are off, leaving him in plain black boxers and an opened shirt. He peels his top off, tossing it to the side, staring into your eyes.
"you can touch," he rasps, tugging you up to sit before his naked torso.
Your body listens before your brain can comprehend his words, and you let his hand pull your wrist up, placing your palm flush against his abs.
Your jaw drops.
He's rock solid. Years of hard work and dedication have defined the ridges of his muscles, and your mouth waters at the sight. You trace over each contour, each ridge, before turning your attention to his arms.
Those were another story altogether...
The thick, sturdy flesh of his biceps tense under your touch, rippling as your fingers pushing into them, testing how firm they really are.
answer: very.
Your nails rake down his arm, drawing over his veins, and he sucks in a sharp breath, feeling his cock grow painfully hard.
You notice, and tug his boxers off, gasping when you see his cock spring free.
It's huge. It's long and thick and veiny, flushed red at the tip with pent up energy. You bring your hand to stroke it as gently as possible, and he hisses, hips startling when you make contact with his dick
"baby," he pleads, using one hand to cup your jaw, tilting your head up to face him, "say it again"
You're confused for a moment before realisation hits.
He wanted you to say that you-
"I love you," you state, loud and clear.
His eyes darken, jaw tensing as he grits out, "again."
Mingyu pushes you down, laying you on your back, and you speak, voice meeker than before.
"I love you,"
He let's out a shaky breath.
"again"
"I love y-"your voice is a whisper now, cutting off into a stunned gasp when he pushes into you.
"oh my god," you tremble, your voice small and frail.
The girth of his cock is nothing like you've ever felt before- not with other men, not even with the toys you use. He eases himself into your tight cunt, going as slowly as his body let's him, and your eyes screw shut.
"uh uh, eyes on me,"
You look up at him, eyes wide as your brows scrunch up. Your jaw falls slack, and you can't stop your throat from opening up to release the filthiest sounds known to man.
"that's it, shh- takin' me so good," he shudders, eyes honed in on the way your face contorts in pleasure.
With each inch his pushes further, your thoughts disappear one by one, until all that's left is him.
"Mingyu" you choke out, nails clawing at his exposed back, "I love you"
Whatever seemed to have been holding him back snaps for good, and he bottoms out in one swift motion, earning a loud moan in response.
You feel your lungs burn as he pulls all the air out of you, feel how deep he is inside you.
Mingyu pulls out, leaving only the head of his cock inside you, before slamming back in, one hand on your hip, pulling your body closer, harder.
His head drops to the spot below your ear and he let's his teeth graze the delicate cartilage.
"I love you," he whispers, his breath sending shivers down your spine. "I love you so much,"
Angling his hips, he pulls your thighs up over his back, and his cock burrows deeper inside you, hitting a spot no one ever has before.
"Mingy- oh my godd" you drawl, voice shaking as he thrusts into you with force enough to power a tiny village.
The sheer girth of his cock has your walls pressing into him, squeezing so tight you can feel each ridge and furrow of his veins.
"so fuckin' perfect- m-made just for me-" His voice is a whisper. He pants into your ear, groaning everytime you squeeze around him.
The solid, steady snap of his hips into you has your head spinning. His size has you losing your mind, and soon enough, you're thoughts are limited to him.
"Mingyu Mingyu Mingyu-" you sob, tears streaming down your face at how he abuses your cunt, how he makes you feel so fucking good.
"I know, pretty, I know," he soothes, pressing a kiss to the spot under your ear, before pulling himself up to look at you again.
The sight before him has his eyes widening. It's as if his world stops. Hair fluttering around your face, skin glistening with a thin film of sweat, lips red and parted as you moan his name through thick sobs and teary, glistening eyes- fuck, how could a person be this beautiful?
"I love you," he shudders, looking you in the eye as his hand trails down to fiddle with your clit, rubbing lazy circles into the flesh.
Your head falls back, tipping into the pillows, and you choke out a strangled- "I love y- m'all yours Mingyu"
Gaining newfound access to your throat, Mingyu kisses greedily at the exposed skin, groaning as your cunt clenches down around him.
Your sounds- nothing short of pure sin- echo around the room, bouncing off the walls. The air is heavy, steaming up with the heat emanating off of your bodies. After all this time, the wait is over. He's finally yours.
As your moans turn shrill, increasing in volume and pitch, Mingyu's own voice grows breathier, and you know you're both close.
On the verge of falling deep into the cool black embrace of pleasure, you clutch desperately at each other, rutting into one another as if there was no tomorrow.
His thrusts grow sloppy as your cunt clamps down on him, and you feel your orgasms rip out of you like a whirlwind. You claw at his back as your body shakes under him, releasing your third orgasm, and he groans deeply into, riding through his own high.
Hot spurts of cum dribble out of you, forming a frothy white ring around the base of his cock- still thrusting into you.
"f-fuck Ming- please," you blubber, tears staining your cheeks, "s'too much-"
His hips halt their reckless movement, and he pulls out of you, watching as your combined orgasms trickle out of your hole.
"too much?" he asks, bringing a hand up to stroke you cheek so lovingly your heart melts.
"mhm," You nuzzle into his palm, "but it was perfect."
For a moment he stares into your eyes, guilt panging in his chest at how you look at him with so much love, despite all that he's done.
"we'll talk over breakfast tomorrow, hm? let's just- let's just stay like this for now"
You nod, letting your eyes flutter closed, and he shuffles beside you, pulling your limp frame into his chest.
The haphazard thudding of his heart tells you how nervous he is, how he's afraid to lose you, and you smile.
"hey," he mumbles, sleep taking over.
You hum and it reverberate in his chest.
"I love you"
"I love you too, Gyu"
"I'll spend the rest of my life making up for how we started," he places a soft kiss to your forehead and you mumble something incomprehensible, already drifting off to sleep.
A fond smile takes over his lips, and he sighs.
You're the best thing to have happened to him.
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ostrichchariot · 11 months
Text
"That's dumb," says Karna. "I think that's dumb. Why can the knight just jump over shit? What's so special about him, huh?"
"Just, uh. Just good at moving, I guess," says Colin, taking the black rook and placing it on his side of the table. It sits there, solid, beside the haphazard array of pawns and a single bishop.
Karna pouts a little. In front of her, on the table, there sit three white pawns, all stood perfectly in line. "'Good at moving.' Urgh. So am I. He's not special." She frowns, and moves a pawn two spaces forward. Colin winces involuntarily, and she glares at him. "What? What did I do?"
"So... I may have forgotten to mention this one. I, uh. I didn't really think it would come up for, uh. Longer than this. To be honest." He gives her a slightly wary look. "You... you ever heard of 'en passant'?"
"'In passing' in Fructeran," she says brusquely. "Now explain."
"Now- ok, I promise I'm not making this one up-" He moves a white pawn to just behind hers, which he smoothly plucks from the board and sets down amongst the cluster of other pieces in front of him.
There is a short silence.
"Are you kidding me," says Karna, voice flatter than the void of space, empty and silent and oh, so deep, and-
"To be fair, that- that's probably one of the stupidest rules I know. If that helps?" says Colin.
"Fine. Fine!" she says. "Sure."
"You know," says Colin delicately, "I could still-"
"No," snaps Karna. "You will not play without a queen." She glares at him with even more ferocity than usual, and lowers her voice to a dangerous drawl. "When I win. If I suspect even for a second that you went easy on me?" Her lip curls into a smirk. "Oh, that would be that last thing you ever did."
"Sure," says Colin. "I mean, sure. I just think it would make the game a bit more fun for you while you're learning. You know?"
Karna rolls her eye. "I want to lose."
"...What?" There is suddenly a deep, unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach.
"I want to lose," she says. "Because it doesn't matter." She grasps his forearms and stares into his eyes, as though willing him to understand. "I want so badly to know what it feels like for losing not to matter. I want to know the loss that is an annoyance, not an ache, not a scar, not a slit throat or a knife in the gut and bleeding out on the pavement."
The hands holding him start to weaken. Rot starts to creep up her neck.
Her pupils are dark voids filled with spinning blades.
"It was too much," she says. "I was so tired. You saw." Her gaze is level, and he remembers running away, and running away, and running away, and looking back. "I was holding on to the edge for so long."
Colin wants to say something. He doesn't know what to say.
"But you can't hold on forever."
And she lets go.
---
He wakes up, and it is still dark, and he is alone.
He never knew her that well, but- she would have been good at chess, he thinks, if she had ever had a chance to learn. Not straight away, of course, but- in time.
No point in dwelling on it. He doesn't want to risk turning into Raphaniel, and- ok, that's another whole thing he's really not interested in delving into right now.
But- she held on for so long.
It seems like the least he can do, to make sure no one else ever has to stare into the void and cling to life so desperately that the muscle of their fingers rots down to bone.
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inkskinned · 9 months
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they don't see it, because it is around them like air. to them, it would have to be through movies, through magazines. they think it happens outside of life, like it must be selected to be interacted with.
but you discovered in the fifth grade that you couldn't wear shirts with words on them, it was an excuse for someone to look at your chest. you were catcalled before you were in middle school. sometimes you look at that memory and deny it - surely that can't be right, you were young. but you were in a skirt, so maybe that was a natural byproduct. it was a skirt from that place "justice by limited too" - a store literally for kids. it was popular around then. you wore that skirt twice and then never again.
you can't wear headphones, because what if a man wants to talk to you? there's a guy on the internet who complains that women shut themselves off from being approached. at night, you often keep the headphones positioned but with the sound off, just in case you need to hear something behind you.
you learned at 12 that you can't make eye contact, don't acknowledge the aggression. just walk faster and hope he picks on somebody else. don't wear your hair like that. do not park next to that kind of car, park an entire cityblock away if you must.
you can't go to the museum, you're sitting and tying your shoe when he approaches you and mentions that nobody understands art anymore. that in the whole world, it's just you-two. you have no recourse for eating a meal (it's rabbit food if it's salad, and someone will roll their eyes, eat a sandwich. it's pick-me behavior if it's a burger, we get it you're a cool girl). if you like mushrooms you are cottagecore, which is cheesy. if you like video games you're an egirl (similar to a pick-me). boys do not get categories, but if you point out the categories are sexist, you are told okay but these girls really exist.
it is somehow developing, a little undercurrent that you've been uncomfortable with. the nickname "karen" went from being "a white woman that uses her whiteness as a weapon, particularly against people of color," to now mean "any woman raising her voice or being even a little upset." the reappropriation of a term used specifically to call out white women for their racism has set your skin on edge. now it is just another version of "bitch," one that can be said on television. recently you saw a woman get called a karen because a drunk driver sideswiped her, and she screamed when it happened. the comments on the dashcam video all say "why do women always scream about everything." "when has the world ever been bettered by women screaming." "this fucking karen. she deserved to get hit."
in the sitcom, it's a joke that the wife is furious; slamming her hands down into the sink. i do everything around here, might as well do this too. in your house, your father is always in-his-office. before you know better, your first boyfriend is the type to say it's just easier for you. you used to beg him to take you on dates. he used to make a big deal about it, about the sacrifice of effort, even if you were the one who did most of the planning.
someone on the internet makes a "POV: the most boring person you've ever met" where he puts a towel on his head and just talks like a normal person. his impression of a boring woman is just a woman that is talking about her pretty-average life without exaggeration.
you are sometimes actually sad in the reverse, because actually you did used to struggle to pay attention in conversations. you were also easily bored of normal things, your adhd pinging off of every radio tower in the vacinity. it took time and therapy and patience, and now you delight in the small things about your friends. you like having them show you their organizational systems and talk about their taylor swift tickets. you are entertained by them because you learned to be, even though your brain is structured to only be excited by novelty. you kind of hate the idea that the reason your father will never actually pay attention to you is that you're no longer interesting. eventually the shine wore off, and you were just a person, not a spaceship. he never learned how to just, like, form an actual intimate friendship. it was always at a distance, this sense - emotional closeness was too much. (and yes. he's homophobic).
you're already tired of whatever the fuck is happening with the words "divine feminine", a rancid take that is basically just a rebranding of the patriarchy in action. what the fuck do they mean "being small and delicate and needing protection" is feminine. the words they are looking for are that they want a partner, not that their desire for equivalent support is relegated to gender. the human desire for community is not actually gendered at all. also, what fucking wolves are these "divine masculine" men even battling. fuckken taxes? shouldn't their "desire to protect" also mean "protect you from emotional neglect", or are all emotions off-limits (and how sad would that be. that's a horrible bar to set.)
and they tell you it's really not bad actually, because it's just there. they suggest you get off the internet or you stop reading that book or you stop thinking so hard about the movie or you stop just-being-a-feminist because honestly it's a killjoy sort of thing and then you tilt your head to the side and there's that little siren in the back of your head. if things were actually fine, being a feminist wouldn't put a stop to anything, it would go completely unnoticed, because you wouldn't have any comment to make about any of this
but you are ruining your own life, they tell you. also, girls don't sit like that. also, all girls are catty. also, all girls are bad drivers. also, all girls just need a cute bracelet and an iced coffee.
you do like iced coffee, is the thing. when you close your eyes, the world around you has this strange note to it. and once you hear it, it never stops ringing.
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souliebird · 9 months
Text
[[and then i met you || ch.1]]
Series: Daredevil || Pairing: Matt Murdock x Fem!Reader || Rating: Explicit
Summary: A one-night stand years ago gave you a daughter and you are now able to put a name to her father – Matthew Murdock. Everything is about to change again as you navigate trying to integrate your life with that of the handsome and charming blind lawyer’s.
a/n: Reader is an extremely anxious person. That’s the note.
words: 5.6k
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You hope Matthew Michael Murdock is a good man. 
You tried to research him online, but you didn't find anything that could sway you one way or another.
The news articles say he's some sort of local hero - not only for being a lawyer who does a lot of pro-bono work but for saving a man from being hit by a truck when he was a kid. They all give his tragic backstory before praising him and his law partner for helping the underprivileged and going after some big shot corrupt businessman - twice. The comments are mostly from people he's helped, singing about how Nelson and Murdock saved them in their times of crisis. 
You want to trust them, but you can't.
The news also claimed Hitler was Person of the Year and deserved praise, too, and you know how that turned out. Not that you think a blind lawyer from Hell's Kitchen can be compared to a genocidal leader, but your mental point to yourself still stands. 
You know nothing about Matthew Murdock except he's blind, he's a lawyer, and his dick changed your life. 
You doubt he even remembers you - a one-night stand from years ago, before his name even started appearing in the news again, and to be fair, you didn't remember him at first, either. Not until four months later when you went in to get your anxiety medication adjusted and the doctor made you take a routine pregnancy test. Then you remembered the handsome blind lawyer who flirted with you at a friend's holiday party you had gone to. You could remember the silly conversation you had about white elephant, that he had the most charming smile, and he could do things with his tongue that made you moan just thinking about, but you could not remember his name. 
You had tried to find him, you really did, but your energy and attention was quickly needed elsewhere and the search for your daughter's father lost steam.
Until you saw him on the television while at the local diner, giving an interview with his law partner. 
That was yesterday and now you are standing outside the door of his firm, trying to work up the courage to go in. 
There's too many scenarios in your head, all of them bad- he's not going to want anything to do with you and your daughter, which you can deal with, or maybe, just maybe, he'll try to take her away from you. He's a lawyer and you work in billing for a transportation company. There's no doubt who the courts would choose and it wouldn't be you. 
The thought makes you want to turn and run but you know your daughter deserves the chance to know her father - and he deserves to know she exists. It's his choice, once he knows, if he wants to be in her life or not, not yours. 
It scares you so much it's not your choice. 
You scrub at your face, trying to work up the courage to actually open the door in front of you when it does just that. 
A kind looking woman with strawberry blonde hair is standing in the doorway and you recognize her from the firm's website - Karen Page. She's the third partner in the firm and you didn't really look into her in your hunt for information. 
She offers you a smile before speaking, "You look like you're debating coming in." You shrug, unsure what to say because that is exactly what you were doing but don't want to admit it. She looks you over without it feeling judgmental before focusing on the manila envelope in your hand. She steps back slightly and gestures for you to come into the office. "You made it this far. Whatever it is, we'll do our best to help you."
The sentiment is so kind and you know she means well, thinking you are a potential client, but it just causes your throat to get even tighter. 
It has been you and your daughter for so long, is this really the right path to take? 
You hug your file to your chest and take a hesitant step forward. Then another and another until you are in the office. It's not big or fancy and you didn't expect it to be. There's a little waiting area in front of the reception desk, with another desk shoved against a wall, and on either side of the room, doors leading to what you suspect are the private offices. 
Karen goes around to the back of the reception desk and picks up a clipboard holding some paperwork and offers it out to you.
You take it and stare down at it, unsure if you would fill it out or not. When you look back up, Karen is still smiling at you and you don't want to come off as a problem, so you take a seat in the waiting area and start filling out the requested information. As you write out your address, it finally occurs to you that you have no idea how to have the conversation you need to have.
Do you ease into it or drop it on him like a bomb? You had only ever thought about finding him and never about what you would say when you did.
You should have taken more time to plan this out. You're such an idiot - you just jumped right into running towards him like you might lose track of him if you took so much as a second to think. You know his name now, who he is, you can take time to get things sorted out properly.
Would it be weird to leave in the middle of filling out paperwork you shouldn't even be bothering with?
Probably not, but you're already here. There is no point in running. 
This is for your daughter, not you. You have to keep telling yourself that.
You don't fill out the information asking about your 'case'. It honestly makes you panic a bit if you start thinking about it all in a legal sense - you know nothing about law and the man you're meeting with graduated at the top of his class from a top law school. Your hand is shaking as you add your signature to the bottom of the page and date it. Reviewing everything takes just a moment, since there's barely anything written to begin with, and your eyes drift up to the logo at the top of the page.
Nelson, Murdock, and Page.
You trace it with your finger.
Matthew Murdock has to be a good man. This firm helps people and he wouldn't be here if he didn't want to help people. He graduated top of his class; he could work anywhere he wanted to. The papers said he is good, too - they win most of their cases. 
Unless it's all a weird front to hide something like money laundering. 
But if they were money launders wouldn't they have enough money to afford an air conditioner? 
"All done?" 
Karen is in front of you, smiling politely. You are surprised by her appearance, but you don't feel pressured. It's like she's checking in so that she can break you out of your thoughts and you appreciate that. You nod and hand her the clipboard. She takes it, giving it a once over.
"Foggy will be out in just a minute."
Your head jerks up at that.
"No, I need to see Mr. Murdock."
You can tell Karen is surprised by that and her eyes narrow just a fraction. She searches your face, then she looks towards the door on the left. 
You turn your head to follow her gaze. 
"Matt!" Karen calls out.
A few moments pass before the door opens and you feel like you're going to throw up. 
The cameras don't do him justice. 
Matthew Murdock is gorgeous. He was handsome before and somehow, he just got hotter. He's a little taller than you, still as lean as you remember, and looking crisp in a gray suit - like some model walked off the catwalk and into a sweltering office. His hair is shorter than you remember it being. You have the distinct memory of being able to grab onto it, but it's too cropped to do that now.
But the thing that catches your attention the most is that in person and in the light, you can see Matthew's hair has an auburn tint to it.
Just like Minnie's. 
The realization shakes your entire world. 
This man is the father of your child. He's real. He's no longer a concept of a person, who you knew nothing about, who just existed somewhere in the world. 
You have to look away before you start to cry. You don't know where this surge of emotion is coming from - it feels like this wave of relief. This question you have always had finally has an answer. 
You tell yourself to take a breath, you know getting overly emotional isn't going to help anything. It might actually make things worse and spiraling into a meltdown is not a good first impression.
You can see Karen in your peripheral vision, and you look up to her, trying to regain your focus.
It's Matthew who speaks first, "Yes, Karen?"
"We have a walk-in who is hoping she can speak with you." 
You introduce yourself, standing up as you do. You know he is blind, so you don't offer your hand. Instead you clutch your folder to your chest. 
He doesn't seem to remember your name. He turns towards you and gives a polite smile. "It's nice to meet you, I'm Matthew Murdock, but you seem to know that. I have some time right now, please come in. Karen, can you grab us some water before you join us?"
"Yeah, sure," Karen says as she turns to do just that. 
Your throat gets tight again. 
You don't want to have this conversation with someone else there. It's already going to be hard enough. You'll definitely start crying if Karen is in the room. You cannot deal with two people's reactions. The mere thought of you having to do that is making you sweat. 
Matthew's voice breaks you out of your panic. "If that is okay?"
You rush out your response, "I would prefer to speak alone, please." You're too panicked to feel embarrassment. 
Karen doesn't seem phased by this. She is still grabbing a couple of bottles of water from the fridge and offering one out to you. You take it. 
"Not a problem, let me know if you need anything."
"Thanks, Kare. Please, come this way," Matthew motions for you to follow him into the office. 
This is it.
Once you go through that door, you aren't leaving that room without telling Matthew Murdock he is a father. 
You surprise yourself by not hesitating and just charging forward into the office. 
This isn't about you or your fears. 
This is for Minnie. 
You keep your gaze forward because you can't bring yourself to look at him. If you stop and look at him before you tell him why you are here, you will just start over analyzing everything once again. You silently beg to whatever gods will listen that everything will be okay, and this man won't destroy you. 
He doesn't look like he is going to break your heart. 
But you know that looks mean nothing when it comes to pain. 
He closes the door behind you with an audible click and the weight of the moment starts to come down on your shoulders.
You take the seat in front of the desk quickly, worried your nerves might catch up with you, placing the water on the ground beside you with your purse when you sit. Matthew doesn't rush, he walks to his desk with an air of quiet confidence and if you were a client, it would be comforting, but you aren't and all it does is remind you why you fell into bed with him. 
"What brings you in today, Miss..?" He trails off, prompting you to say your name again. As he reaches his desk you watch as he trails his fingers along the edge, using it as a guide, before moving his hand to brush over the back of his seat before sitting in it. 
You chew your bottom lip, wishing you had taken a second to actually plan what you would say instead of jumping in. As far as you know, there isn't a step-by-step guide on how to tell a one-night stand that he's the father of your child - not that you actually looked into that in your desperate research the night before. 
Matthew doesn't push as you gather your thoughts. He moves some paperwork away from the center of his desk, then folds his hands there, waiting. You keep your gaze on his hands, needing something to focus your eyes on while you force the truth out.
"I saw your interview last night," you say, deciding to start there, as it seems the most relatable.
Matthew's brows knit together and he tilts his head to the side and you are one again reminded of Minnie. It's a gesture she does often, tilting her little head left and right as she tries to understand something. It always reminded you of a dog and now you wonder if it's not a learned behavior, but genetic. 
His lips turn down into a frown and his head stays cocked as he asks, "Do you have information about the Lynch case?"
Heat rushes to your cheeks - of course that would be the question to ask after bringing up the interview. The whole piece was about a specific case they were working on and how it would affect Hell's Kitchen and you hadn't paid any attention to what was said - not after you realized who was on the screen. 
You shake your head, resisting the urge to look away and you curl your fingers tighter around the manila folder in your lap. "No, I'm sorry. I saw you and…recognized you."
He straightens up and his demeanor shifts to something less…friendly. It's minute but your messed-up brain screams at you about body language - his shoulders have squared up and you can see where he's clenching his back teeth. You quickly continue on, wanting to get through with your explanation before your anxiety makes you clam up.
"We met nearly five years ago," your voice is firm and factual and you're proud of yourself for that, "at a holiday party." 
The words leave your mouth and you know he knows. Every part of him seems to go still - even his breathing seems to stop. The crease between his brow smoothes out, like he's gone from squinting to wide eyes behind his dark glasses. Your heart is pounding in your ears and your throat is getting stiff, but your voice remains steady as you push the words out.
"I think you are the father of my child."
All the color seems to leave Matthew's face and he looks nearly as gray as his suit. The reaction makes your stomach turn. He looks like he is going to throw up. 
You bite into your lip, waiting for Matthew to do or say something. All you can do is mentally chant to yourself: he's a good man, he won't take her away.
You know it's probably just seconds, but it feels like hours pass before Matthew moves.
He leans slowly back in his chair, reaching up with one hand to rub at his mouth. 
"Are you sure?"
He doesn't sound upset, at least to your ears. His words are cautious - tentative - and it makes your heart go tight in your chest. You don't know if it's fear or hope or everything crashing into you at once now that he knows.
You force out a nod before you remember that the man in front of you is blind. You find your voice and words creep out.
"I'm pretty sure," you start. Your eyes drop away from his hands back down to your lap and you have to lick at your lips to wet them before continuing, "I didn't go out much after that party, I got so busy with work. I didn't…find out until the first trimester was over. By then, I couldn't remember your name. My friends who I went to the party with didn't know you either. I tried to Google you with what information I had, but 'blind lawyer' just got me a lot of disability lawyers." You take a shaky breath, "I understand if you want a paternity test."
You know Matthew is probably taking everything in, but now that you've started talking, it's like you've lifted the dam on your anxiety. You squeeze the file in your lap - just because you hadn't known how you were going to tell Matthew the truth did not mean you hadn't extensively thought about the consequences. Words start to spill out of you.
"I also understand if you don't want anything to do with us, I get it's a big shock. I'm not looking for anything from you." Matthew drops his hand to the desk and if you didn't know better, it would look like he was staring at you. "I just wanted you to know and I thought it would be good for her to know you, but if you don't want that, I get it. All I ask is you fill out some paperwork, medical history mostly so I know if there's anything I need to look out for. I printed it out for you, it's all in braille." 
You get up just enough so that you can place the manila envelope on the desk, then sit back down. Your throat is getting so tight and stiff you feel like you're struggling to breathe. 
Matthew runs his hand over his desk until he can feel the envelope. His fingers move along the edge and you stare at them, like they are going to be the one to reveal what Matthew is thinking instead of his mouth. He finds the lip but doesn't open, instead flattening his palm against it.
"...her?"
His voice is so quiet you barely hear it. You lift your head to finally look at him and your heart skips a beat.
Matthew looks so soft. The corners of his lips twitch a few times before a smile slowly spreads across his face. 
And you know.
You know without a doubt he is your daughter's father. They have the exact same smile. You can't help but to grin as well. 
This is good, isn't it? He looks Happy. 
"I have a daughter.."
"Winifred.. Winifred Love," you offer. Matthew lifts his head and tilts it towards you, brow wrinkling slightly.
"Love…?" He asks, no judgment in his voice, only curiosity. 
You close your eyes in a bit of embarrassment, as you always do during the story, "I meant to put Grace, but I was out of it. I even put a big heart next to it on the paperwork." You aren't ashamed of the story and you love your daughter's name, but it's always a 'oops I was high' moment, even if it was done with the purest intention. 
If possible, Matthew's smile gets even bigger. 
"Winifred Love," he says, his voice dropping back down to the barely there whisper. 
"She goes by Minnie. Like, um.. Like Minnie Mouse," you say. That gets an amused yet fond chuckle. You find yourself relaxing at the noise - like some of the pressure squeezing on your lungs has been lifted and you can finally breathe. 
He repeats her nickname and you feel your lips start to turn up. 
"How old..?" His voice cracks with emotion and Matthew has to clear his throat before continuing, "how old is she?"
"Three and a half," you answer quickly, "her birthday is a few months away." You bite your lip then hesitantly add, "She wants to go to the zoo. It's all she talks about."
"Yeah?" Matthew prompts. His smile is so so soft and it makes your stomach turn in this pleasant way. However, you were expecting him to act, this is not it. In your heart, you think the best you were going for was acceptance, but this seems much more than that. There is a stinging in the corner of your eyes and you have to take your own steadying breath continuing on.
"Yeah, um.. She…likes maps right now. I got her a map to the zoo and she's got the whole day planned." Which is very much true - your coffee table has been the home of a makeshift zoo diorama for a little over a week now and the itinerary has changed about twenty times. 
 Matthew ducks his head and nods a little, taking all the information in. You squeeze your fingers in your lap, needing a way to release the nerves still buzzing inside you. 
A few moments pass before Matthew clears his throat again, "What else does she like..?"
The question makes you chuckle just a little bit, only because gushing about your daughter is something you're very good at. Since you work at home, it is just the two of you ninety percent of the time, you don't get to coo over her very often.
"She loves arts and crafts - anything she can get her little hands on. Right now she loves pipe cleaners and paper, things she can bend and fold, you know? I set her next to me while working and she'll just fold paper into little shapes. Not origami or anything, just abstract things, she doesn't plan it. She always wants to help, too, whatever I'm doing. Cooking and cleaning. She is the best helper for grocery shopping." You pause, looking over Matthew's smile for a moment before continuing on, tears starting to gather in your eyes.
 "She looks just like you," you admit, fondness clear in your voice because it is so so true. Now that you are properly looking at him, Minnie looks just like Matthew, and telling him that makes him light up even more. "You've got the same smile. The same hair. Hers is a little more red, but it's definitely from you."
You watch Matthew lick at his lips and you want to know what is going on in his head. You think everything is going well, even if you are on the verge of crying. They are tears of relief - relief you weren't told to fuck off or to go get your own lawyer. You don't fully know if Matthew Murdock is a good man, but you're over the first hurdle and the prospects are looking good. 
Matthew leans back into his chair, inhaling deeply, as if centering himself, then asks, "Why now? Why find me now?"
"Like I said, I couldn't find you, I didn't know anything about you, really, except what you looked like and you were a lawyer. I did try, I really did, but…" you trail off with a shrug, "I had a newborn."
Matthew seems to accept that answer - it is the truth after all - and continues on, "But you saw the interview... Last night?"
You nod, "I was picking up some dinner and they were playing the news at the diner. I saw it and looked you up and now…now you know."
"Now I know…" Matthew repeats slowly, his smile dropping a little and you wonder if is hitting him in different waves, like it did you - the realization he is a father. You know it is an intense roller coaster and you are not going to try to guide his ride, especially after just kind of dropping it on him. 
He taps the manila folder in front of him, the crease returning to his brow, "What is this?"
Your cheeks get hot again and you turn your gaze away from him and back to your lap, "Requests for family medical history and information about how to establish paternity, if that's what you want."
"It is," Matthew rushes out. Your head jerks up and his expression looks serious, "I want that. I want to be in her life."
He sounds so sure of himself that it makes your head spin a little. You built up in your mind he either wouldn't want anything to do with you and Minnie or he was going to try to take her away - you hadn't really considered the obvious option that Matthew would just want to be involved. At least, that is what you are hoping he is implying. 
"I won't abandon my daughter," the conviction in his voice startles you, but it also makes your heart twist but in a good way because in that moment, you believe him. "And I won't abandon you. I used to question if I had the right to bring a child into my life, but this isn't a hypothetical anymore…. And I can't.." he trails off and leans back into his chair, rubbing at his mouth again. You don't press, you have no right to when you've come out of the blue and changed his entire world. He takes off his glasses and pinches the bridge of his nose. "I can't step away now that I know she is out there." 
You quickly shake your head at his words, "You don't need to rush into anything, I mean it, I don't want anything from you but for you to have the chance to know her. We can go slow, she's still little, you know? She can't handle a big change. Start small?"
You're more worried about how he is feeling versus what you are. You have at least prepared yourself to have a reaction - he thought he would be having a normal work day and you've given him a lot to process in the last five minutes. 
"We can go at your pace, Matthew."
He drops his hand from his face, a smile coming back to his face, "You can call me Matt."
You repeat your preferred name, then apologize, "I'm sorry for coming out of nowhere. I didn't want to lose track of you again, but I could have scheduled an appointment."
Matt shakes his head a little, "No, I get it." His hand goes back to the envelope, like touching it is grounding him like squeezing your fingers is grounding you. "I'm glad you came…I'm glad…thank you. Thank you for telling me." 
Part of you wants to reach across the desk and squeeze his hand, to give him comfort and let him know everything will be okay, but you don't dare. He's still a stranger, despite everything. You decide pushing past the emotional to the practical might be the best approach for now. You need to get your anxiety to settle now that you know your world isn't going to end and the best thing for that, in your mind, is getting an action plan. 
"I don't know what the steps are for doing this," you start, trying to think up ideas as you talk, "but I think maybe we could…get together again and plan things out? Give you time to adjust to the idea and let you think about how you want to move forward?"
Matt nods along with your words, "That sounds like a good idea." 
You bend down to grab your phone out of your purse, "I put my contact information in the packet, but could I get yours?" 
He waits until you are ready, then gives you his personal number then the office number. You do the quick song and dance of calling his phone, so that he has your number and you wait patiently as he adds you as a contact. Hearing the voice commands to navigate a phone is new to you and once he is done putting in your information, you let your curiosity get the better of you.
"Do you prefer texting or phone calls?"
"Phone calls would be preferable," Matt says as he sets his phone on his desk, having held it up to speak clearly into it, "I have text to speech but it's not always the easiest for texting." 
You nod in understanding, "Got it." You squirm in your seat, unsure of what comes next, so you say the very first thing that comes to mind. "You can call anytime. I work from home so you don't have to worry about interrupting anything…like I'm doing with you."
He hums, then asks, "What does Minnie do during the day?" 
"She stays with me, mostly. There's a daycare down the block she goes to if I need someone to watch her. That's where she is now."
That makes Matt frown just slightly and part of you panics that he disapproves. "Is it just the two of you…?"
"Yes." 
You say it with confidence. You've worked hard to get where you are alone and despite all you've been through, you are proud of that. "My parents passed when I was in college and I don't have any siblings. We've managed to do pretty well on our own. It's not the biggest, but we have a little place in Chelsea."
The little frown stays and you don't know what it means - you hope it's over you not having a big support system and not something else. Matt looks like he is going to respond but a knock at the door cuts him off. You jump at the noise, having totally forgotten there were other people in the office. 
Matt looks slightly annoyed when he calls out, "Yes?"
The door opens and the final partner for the law is there. "Pardon the intrusion," he says to you with a nod before addressing Matt, "They've got that guy from last week at the 15th. He's asking for us specifically."
Matt openly scowls before running a hand over his face, "Okay. Give me a few minutes."
Foggy nods before stepping back out and closing the door.
"I'm sorry," Matt says sheepishly.
You cut him off before he can say more, standing as you do, "Please don't be, I really did just barge in on you at work. I can call you later? Or you can call me?" 
Matt gets up as well, starting to come around the desk, "I can call you." He hesitates just a second, then ducks his chin, that little smile reappearing and your heart does that funny flip again. "Maybe we can get lunch?"
You smile back, "I would like that. We can start planning." You bite your bottom lip, then add, "I can bring Minnie…?"
Matt's entire face lights up and the awkwardness of trying to end your talk evaporates. "I would like that. A lot." He motions to his desk, "I'll work on getting that back to you. I want to…I want to do this right." 
"I do, too." 
It feels like a promise. You want to believe Matt - that he wants this and won't disappear at the first minor inconvenience. You've read so many horror stories about bad parents and you don't want any of that for Minnie. 
You grab your purse and the water Karen gave you, then finally give Matt a proper look over. 
You enjoyed your night together with him. Not only had he been a phenomenal lover, but he had made you smile and laugh. You weren't nearly as anxious then as you are now, but you had been rather nervous being flirted with by a handsome lawyer and he had made you feel at ease. Bringing him home with you had been an easy choice. 
He must sense you smiling somehow, maybe you giggled or something, but his smile, which had started to fall, brightens back up.
"Can I ask you something before you go?" 
You nod to his question, catch yourself and reply, "Of course."
"Can you tell me what she looks like?"
Guilt courses through you and biting your lip turns painful, "I'm so sorry, of course. Um, I included pictures in the packet with descriptions but, of course." His face drops into something a little nervous so you launch into the description of your daughter, emphasizing how they have the same smile because you can’t get over that. You can't help yourself and start describing some of the pictures you included.
"She has this big noise canceling headband so she can sleep comfortably - she doesn't like loud noises - but because she is three, she refuses to wear it unless it's cute. So we crochet little sleeves for it. One of the pictures is her asleep on our couch, face down, because that's how she sleeps, wearing her favorite sleeve. It's Spider-Man the-"
There's a quick series of taps on the door before it opens again.
"Buddy, we gotta go."
You start to apologize, but Matt speaks over you, his voice a little firm as his expression drops, "I'll be right there, Foggy."
A silent conversation seems to go through them, as Foggy raises his eyebrows at Matt and Matt does the same right back. Foggy steps out of the office, closing the door behind him. 
"Let me walk you out?" Matt asks, motioning to the door.
"Thank you." 
You let him open the door and you follow him into the reception office. Foggy is looking at his phone while waiting by Karen's desk as she finishes packing her laptop. You cross the room in silence as Matt leads you from the office. Once you are in the hallway, he speaks to you in a soft voice.
"Can I call you tonight?"
"Yes, please." 
"Does eight work?"
"That's perfect." 
"I'll talk to you then."
You force yourself to be the one to turn away and start walking towards the stairs. As you get to them, you pull your bottom lip between your teeth to try to suppress your smile.
Maybe the papers are right and Matthew Murdock is a good man. 
You really hope he's a good father too.
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