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#i think this is why he always photographs well
youaresimplylovely · 3 days
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"We Keep This Love in a Photograph" - CL 16
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𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗹𝗲𝘀 𝗟𝗲𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗿𝗰 𝘅 𝗚𝗳!𝗥𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿
𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗣𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗳𝗹𝘂𝗳𝗳 𝗮𝗻𝗱 𝗮 𝗹𝗶𝗹 𝘀𝗺𝘂𝘁 𝗶𝗻 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗲𝗻𝗱 (⁠っ⁠.⁠❛⁠ ⁠ᴗ⁠ ⁠❛⁠.⁠)⁠っ
𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱𝘀: 654
𝗣𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗳𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱!!
𝘓𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺𝘚𝘦𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘭𝘺'𝘴 𝘔𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘳𝘭𝘪𝘴𝘵
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Charles Leclerc was known for many things, a famous Formula 1 Driver who drives for Ferrari, an ice cream brand owner, but most especially a photographer. Yet this is only like ONLY exclusive to you. Charles said it himself, he likes showing the fans and the public his talents except his photography talent.
He purely insists that it's only exclusive to you. Despite many journalists, interviewers, and fans asking him why, his answer will be and always will be "because Y/N brings out the best of me and she's a true born model, I enjoy taking photographs of her. It really makes me happy."
That's why when you guys planned your monthly vacation to Bali, boy did he not hesitate to bring his camera. The camera, Charles always brought to every vacation with you was the camera you gifted him on his birthday. Sometimes you think to yourself if it was a bad decision, but it sure wasn't.
You and Charles walk around the beach to explore, strolling through the sands of the beautiful beach a loud click of a camera was heard. You raised an eyebrow, Charles was right behind you and you knew he took a picture of you. Slowly, you turn around to see Charles and his camera on his hand with a charming smile on his face.
"Cha? Seriously?" You chuckle, approaching him closer as you wrap your hands around the back of his neck.
"What? You know I love taking pictures of you mon amour" He says with his french accent that you loved so much. His hand gripping on your waist while the other holds his camera in his hand.
"You know sometimes, I wonder if I regret gifting you that camera for your birthday last year." You giggle, you were just joking but you wanted to tease him.
"Mon Dieu!" A loud gasp escapes his mouth as he laughs, he scrunches his nose and plants a soft kiss on your forehead. "I love the camera, mon amour. It's the best gift I could ever receive in my 26 years of life." He smiles at you softly, gently rubbing your back with his hand.
You couldn't help but smile at his words, you were so lucky to have him. A big smile purses your lips, leaning in closer to his face as you kiss him softly. Moments later, you pull away softly with a giggle.
"Now mon amour, we can't let you have a good vacation without pictures, am I right? Go on step back a little for me and smile okay?" He smiles softly, taking the camera out of his other hand and positions himself.
You smile and follow his instructions, you step back and start doing a few poses while Charles snaps pictures of you. Moments later, you finished with your small photoshoot. You and Charles continue to walk around the beach with his hand around your waist.
"You know mon amour, I really like this bikini of yours. It suits you very well and it looks amazing in pictures but you know what else is amazing?" He smiles at you cheekily while you two keep walking.
You let out a small hum, chuckling at your boyfriend's comment as you give him a quick kiss on the cheek as a thank you. "What's that baby?"
"Me taking pictures of you without the bikini." He winks at you along with a smirk on his mouth.
You gasp, laughing as you playfully hit his chest. "You're so dirty Cha but maybe, I'll think about it." You smirk at him as well as you lay your head on his shoulder while you walk.
The fact that your boyfriend is so loving towards you makes you feel so happy. Especially when he expresses his talents to you and you only. You always say to yourself and always will that you and him will "keep this love in a photograph."
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gojonanami · 1 month
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❝ 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐌𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐒 𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐘 𝐆𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄 ❞
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❝ I CAN'T BREATHE WITHOUT YOU, BUT I HAVE TO... ❞
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✧ pairing: satoru gojo x f!reader (canon / multi au)
✧ summary: "would we love each other in every life?" it's the question you asked satoru the night before his battle, and he replied that, of course you would. but did that promise create a curse -- or were you both always cursed to begin with when it came to love?
✧ warnings: 18+, nsfw, smut, jjk manga spoilers (236 spoilers), multiple lives, assassin!reader x duke!gojo, actor!gojo x singer!reader, prince!gojo x knight!reader, model!gojo x photographer!reader, oral (f!receiving) in a car, semi-public, making out in public, pantyhose ripping, canon compliant except towards the end, angsty, but also bittersweet / implied happy ending
✧ wc: 6,589
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“Do you think we would be together in another life?” you ask, not thinking much of the question, as your fingers draw lazy circles against his bare chest, your head resting right between his shoulder and chest. 
Satoru chuckles, vibration against your skin, “Of course we would, sweetheart,” his arms curl around you, tugging you higher, as he gazes up at you, “you think I could live any lifetime without you?” He murmurs, his lips finding yours, “I know we’d find each other, time and time again,” 
“How do you know?” your fingers brush against his cheek, shaking as he presses his cheek into your palm, a smile pulling at his lips. 
“Because, I love you,” he kisses you again, sweet lips gliding against yours, his breath warming your lips as he parts. 
“You did say love is a curse,” you give a small smile, and he presses his forehead to yours. 
“Then I’d want you to curse me — in every life.” 
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“I swear on my life,” you press the dagger to his throat, blade digging into his formerly  perfect porcelain skin, drawing scarlet to the surface, “I’ll kill you, Satoru Gojo,” 
“I’m flattered to be a target of the infamous blueblood assassin,” his cerulean eyes glinted like stars in the candlelight, flames flickering across his eyes like burning comets, “but I didn’t think you would announce yourself as you did — what if I called for my guards?” 
You scoff, fingers flexing against the hilt of your dagger, “Then you would be dead before you uttered even a single sound and do you think I left your guards to chance? All of that schooling to be a duke and you haven’t learned a single thing have you?” 
“And what have I done to end up as your target?” he hums — as you bit back a sigh stuck in your throat — you preferred your marks to be much less chatty, but all he had was his mouth you supposed, “you only target the rich and the corrupt — and while I may fit the former, I do not fit the latter,” 
“You’re certainly sure of yourself,” and he’s unfazed by your reply, as his eyes wander the only thing visible of your expression — your eyes. 
“Since you have not stated my crime, I can only assume that I’ve committed none, and the infamous assassin whose morals could not be compromised have been,” and your grip wavers a moment, and he takes advantage of your hesitance to disarm you, and pin you to a nearby chaise all before the clatter of your blade hitting the marble floor, “and now what’s an assassin’s price who has done all of this for no reward?” 
“How do you know I’ve done this for no reward?” you squirm in his grip, but it’s ironclad, and you know all too well he could have broken from your grasp at any point, but he had chosen not to — your heartbeat roars in your ears as one question repeats again and again stuck between  beats — why? “I very well may have taken a payment you don’t know of — you act as if you know of me,” 
“Because I do,” the heir replies with a simple smile, “I have followed your work for a long time, and I found myself fascinated with what you do — and why you do it,” 
“Honored to have caught your attention,” you say in mock reverence, your arm beginning to ache, “now do you plan to call your guards?” 
“Didn’t know you were so eager to die,” he stares still, as you turn your head away from his piercing gaze, “shouldn’t you keep your eyes on your target or now your captor?” 
“Do you ever shut up?” You mumble as you flinch as you squirm under his grip, sleeve riding up ever so slightly — and then he sees it. His eyes narrow, as his hand grasps at your wrist now, “hey! Don’t—“ 
In a moment his fingers nearly rip the fabric of your tunic to tug your sleeve up —  angry red cuts and purple bruises litter your arm. Your breath catches as his eyes stare for several moments before sliding back to you — no longer a placid pool but a raging ocean. 
“Who did this to you?” he says quietly, and you’re blinking, nearly slack jawed, as you try to rip your arms away, but he won’t let you, “who is it? Is it the same person who told you to kill me?” 
“Stop—“ 
“Is it the same person who’s taken someone important to you?” and you grit your teeth in silence, “is it the little orphan you adopted? Yuji?” 
And your eyes snap to his, “How do you know this? Who are you?” 
His lips curl,  “You told me yourself, I’m Satoru Gojo,” and his fingers brush your cheek, “it’s a shame you don’t remember where we first met — because I never forgot,” 
You furrow your brow, “What are you talking about? I think I’d remember you. You’re…” you jerk your head, eyes looking him up and down — lingering on his white hair and eyes, “distinct,” 
“Well what if I had black hair and green eyes, would you remember then?” And he whispers your name in your ear, and you pause, “the fireworks were nothing compared to you,” 
And your breath catches — “You? But—“ 
“I had snuck out, had a disguise and everything, and I had planned to explore the festival alone but who do I find but you?” His grip on you loosens only to pull you a little closer, “the girl who had stolen two steamed buns and pinned me with part of the blame, making me run after you—“ 
“You didn’t have to run—“ and he snorted. 
“Well, it was that or get caught sneaking out — so I chose the lesser of two evils,” you can’t help it, your fingers trace the curve of his jaw to the back of his ear, “are you seeing if I’m defective?” And you find it. 
“No, he—“ you stop yourself, “you had gotten a small cut right behind your ear, it was deep enough that it would have left a scar behind,” and he had gotten a small cut from one of the soldiers who had grabbed them, bucking him with his sword, before you wrenched him out of there. The two of you spent the rest of the night eating food and sneaking around guards. And then finally climbing up on a rooftop to watch the fireworks. 
“How did you—“ 
“One of my father’s advisers found me later that night, in exchange for never sneaking out again without telling him, he said he would keep tabs on you,” 
You have no words, but one left — “why?” 
“I don’t know,” he shook his head, “maybe it was because I’ve been surrounded by nothing but my family’s yes-men, and you were the one person who treated me like a person, maybe it was the fact that day was the only day I actually had fun,” and he glances at you, “or maybe it was because I was drawn to you,” 
And you snort a little, “Do you believe in that fates nonsense they fed all of us as kids?” 
“I think fate is a very real thing, and I think it’s up to us to seize it,” he releases you, holding your hand before bending to press the barest brush of his lips against the back of your hand, “so, will you seize it or continue to evade your fate?” 
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“We’ll never be able to evade the press if you do this,” you whisper, as he presses you against a wall of a secluded pillar of whatever place they had chosen to have this awards show, “and our teams will definitely chew us out if we don’t make an—ah,” you gasp, as his teeth nip at your neck, “Satoru, don’t leave a mark,” 
“Sorry, sweetheart,” he licks his lips, as he leans up, his normally messy white locks combed and parted to the side, his lips kiss bitten red from the liplock he had you in for the last ten minutes, and his white suit slightly ruffled and pressed against you, “you taste so sweet,” his thumb runs down your puffy lips, “and the desserts tonight sucked,” 
You chuckle, your fingers toying with the hair resting against his undercut, “Think you would have been pleased with receiving the award for best actor, is that not enough Mr. Gojo?” 
“The only thing that pleases me is my gorgeous wife’s singing and,” his lips find yours in a desperate kiss, and you could taste the fruity mocktail he had earlier on his lips, “and her moans when she’s under me,” his hand slides under your dress, dragging over your pantyhose clad thighs, “do you think anyone would notice if you came back without these?” 
“Yes, I do,” you gasp as he tugs at the delicate fabric, “Toru, we shouldn’t—” but your pleas are half-hearted, as his lips drift to press butterfly kisses up your jaw, “you deserve me insane,” 
“I know,” he chuckles, “that’s why you love me,” and you hum, your noses brushing before you meet lips again, “I love you so much,” 
Your fingers cup his cheek, as he leaned into your touch, “I love you too — don’t you want to enjoy all the accolades, the interviews, the congratulations? You won such a big award, Toru, I want you to celebrate,” 
“I am celebrating,” he grins, tilting his head, “I’m surprised at you, princess — and you’re the smart one between the two of us,” he teases, as he turns his head to kiss your palm, “in an entire ballroom full of people in there and all the places in the world, there’s no one place I rather be with than here with you.” 
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“How did I end up stuck with you?” you grumbled, your armor weighing on you heavier than other days, as you stood in front of your prince — the little sun of this kingdom and the future king, the man you were sworn to protect for the rest of your earthly days, and your best friend, for better for worse, “if the fates have written it, I must have done something horrid in a past life,” 
“Do you really believe in that garbage?” Satoru raises an eyebrow, as he places his sword down from practice, waiving off his training partner, as he wipes off his sweat with a towel offered by a maid, “You know that stuff they fed to us so we wouldn’t throw tantrums during classes — so we didn’t turn into slugs for our next life,” 
“Why turn into one when you are one already?” you smirk, and he rolls his eyes, as he runs his hand through his hair. 
“Has a slug ever looked this good before?” and you roll your eyes. 
“Think your ego is going to be so large by the time you become king, your crown won’t sit atop your head correctly,” you sigh, rising to your feet, “now we must get you cleaned and dressed, you have a meeting with the—” 
“I actually cleared my schedule for the rest of the day,” and you blink, frowning. 
“His Majesty will not—” 
“His Majesty will be fine — old man hasn’t kicked the bucket over the last fifty things I’ve done — I doubt this will be more than a ten minute lecture on decorum, fifteen if I decide to poke the bear,” he throws you a grin, as he pulls on a fresh shirt, “come, I have something to show you,” 
“Show me?” you repeat, before his hand finds yours — his hands are smooth despite the constant swordplay and practice he put in — he supposed he owed that to the royal staff, tending to his looks as much as they did his health. The same could not be said about yours — riddled with cuts and calluses alike. Your cheeks burned as your unkempt hand held his — “your highness, this is—” 
“‘Your Highness?’” he repeats, throwing you a smirk over his shoulder, “when have you ever called me that?” 
The appearance of holding your hand as he pulled you down several hallways through the palace was beginning to attract the attention of several gawking onlookers. Your cheeks burn — and you’re not sure if it's from the stares, his words, or the fact he was still holding your hand as you both arrive outside his chambers. But you can’t stop him — but you never could stop him when it came to this, could you? It reminded you of the times he dragged you through the gardens, wanting to show you the rabbits’ hidey hole he had found in the corner of the royal gardens. 
“Well I was made an official royal guard and appointed as your personal guard yesterday so I thought a little professionalism—” he unlocks his door, turning to look at you, a smile pulling at his lips. 
“There’s no need for decorum between us, now is there?” his fingers find a stray strand of your hair, and presses his lips to it, as he opens his door. You glance inside to find a lovely decorated cake and a present wrapped perfectly on the table, “Happy birthday, sweetheart,” 
“What—but—” and your mind realizes the date, “how did you—” 
“You think I’d ever forget your birthday?” he tilts his head, as your eyes slide to him, “it’s the day we met,” 
It was — the day you were brought from your home with your father who had been the king’s royal guard for many years, you were brought to be the prince’s — but you didn’t know you would find more than that in him. 
“I didn’t know you did this for your personal staff,” you teased, a smile pulling at the corners of your mouth, “I certainly can’t imagine what they would think of you inviting a woman to your room for it,” 
“Well, you are my personal guard, you’re here to personally guard me against anything, right?” and this was the nature of your relationship wasn’t it? Teasing and goading — toeing that line of proprietary before one of you eased off. 
“It seems like I need to guard you only against yourself, your highness,” 
“Satoru,” he corrects, his eyes sliding to you, as he says your name with a softness that you wished he wouldn’t, “you had no issue calling me that before,” 
“We were only friends then, I’m your guard now—“ 
“Do you kiss all your friends?” And your cheeks flare, as your gaze refuses to meet his. 
“That was—a mistake,” you whisper the last two words, “we can’t do this—“ 
“Why not?” You turn away, your eyes sliding to the cake, a frown pulling on your lips. 
“Because you have a duty to your people and I have a duty to you,” and his fingers find your shoulder gently, giving you leave to pull away — but you can’t, you couldn’t. 
“My only duty I desire is the one to you—I love my people, but I can’t be the king they deserve if you’re not the one beside me,” your gaze still cast downward, “I will cast away any responsibility, if I could have a chance with you, sweetheart—“ 
“The king has discussed your engagement with me,” you murmur, “he told me he plans to have you engaged with a princess from a neighboring—“ And his arm is wrapping around your waist, pulling you closer — your gaze lost in the endless blue skies of his eyes, “we can’t—“ 
“I’ll find a way,” and you scoff. 
“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you mutter, and his warm palm slides against your cheek. 
“This isn’t me promising to find a unicorn when we were five, Princess,” and you chuckle at the thought of his child self trudging into the woods with carrots in hand and what he thought was fairy dust (it was ladies’ finishing powder), “I swear that we’ll be together,” and he reaches into his pocket, and holds a small box, opening it to reveal a beautiful infinity pendant, “and this is my promise,” 
You bite your lip, staring at the silver glinting in the sunlight trickling in from the windows, “Satoru—“ 
“Finally giving in?” And you sigh. 
“How can you be sure we’ll be together?” He chuckles, as he gently turns you, making you face the mirror in his room as he places the necklace delicately around your neck, his fingers brushing against the skin of your neck before he clasps it. His arms slowly slide around your middle as he meets your gaze in your reflection, lips curling. 
His lips press a sweet kiss to your cheek, “Because I know I’d choose you, again and again.” 
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“Why did they choose him as my model again?” You groaned as you looked at the list, tossing it back on your desk, “he’s so impossible to work with—“ 
“The shoots are finished quick—“ your boss replies gruffly, as he stands with his hands in his pockets, “and he said he’d only shoot with you. Said he likes your work and you’re the only one who can ‘capture the real him,’ some crap like that,” he shrugs. 
“Yaga, I can’t keep dealing with this man, can’t he shoot with anyone else?” 
He sighs, scratching the back of his head, “Look, the magazine we’re working with chose him as the model, and he said he would only do the shoot if you did it,” 
You sigh, leaning on your palm, elbow against your desk. “you’re not giving me a choice are you?” 
And no, he wasn’t. 
Because now you were at the studio for the sight of the shoot, getting everything ready that you could before your model arrived. You made sure his preferred makeup artist and hairstylist were available, you picked out his favorite snacks, got his preferred lighting (to be adjusted when he was on set), and had your cameras adjusted for his light sensitivity. 
All of which reduced the amount of time you had to spend with this man — but not even the most divine snacks would stop him from running his mouth. 
“Sweetheart,” you turned to see him, “miss me?” 
“When pigs fly, maybe,” but your words don’t faze him, a mock pout on his lips, “why do you request me to do your shoots, Gojo?” 
“Because it’s the only way you’ll see me,” and you sigh, as you continue to adjust your camera again, “you still haven’t given me a chance—“ 
“I gave you one chance, wasn’t that enough?” Before you turn to him, “look, I’m here because I have to be. I want to shoot — get in and get out and not have to—“ 
“One chance to talk to you — please, even if you don’t believe me or forgive me—“ 
“Fine,” you shake your head, frustrated, “go finish the shoot and we can talk for five minutes after,” and maybe he would stop forcing you into this situation. 
Satoru Gojo was the top wanted model by all the agencies — agencies were looking to snipe him and others were looking to have exclusive deals with him — whether it was photography businesses or brands. 
You couldn’t blame them, as you adjusted your lights and took a few test shots — he was gorgeous, even by model standards. From his skin to his body to his attitude, it was effortless for him. Even a bad angle or bad lighting did very little to detract from his flawless look. 
The chiseled cut of his jaw put statues to shame, his eyes shone brighter than the shiniest gemstones, his charm the envy of the love goddess herself, and his smile was enough to change hearts and minds alike. 
The shoots always look little time — the part that took the most time was choosing the best shots — you’d love to take one bad picture of him. Even for yourself — but that had proved impossible. Even deprived of sleep in the hours of the early morning, he was perfect. 
Perfect — except for his loyalty, you supposed. 
How had it gone so wrong so fast? And how did you let yourself become so carried away that you thought you were different from the others he bedded? 
And the shoot was over in a moment, and just like he said, Satoru was by your side as you begin to break down the equipment, as the other staff filed out, “can we talk now?” 
“If you have to,” you would give him an ear, but it didn’t mean you’d give him anything else.
“I never cheated on you—“ 
“Bullshit,” you reply, as you pick up the tripod you set up,  “I guess you didn’t the full five minutes,” 
“No, I didn’t—what you saw—“ 
“I saw you kissing another girl all over social media—“
“You saw me with Suguru,” he sighs, “and we weren’t kissing — we were hugging. You thought it was kissing from the angle of the picture, and before I could explain, you had blocked me on everything,”
You pause, “Suguru?” You repeat, as you pull out your phone and pull up the picture — black hair, hair half up, and they could have been hugging. And Satoru pulls out his own phone and shows you a selfie he took that same day, the meta data matching, “oh, oh fuck,” 
“Was that an apology? Not familiar with those coming out of your mouth so—“ 
“Satoru, I’m so sorry,” you murmur, “I saw the pictures and I heard the rumors and I assumed the worst of you,” you run your fingers through your hair, “even though I knew you better than that,” 
“You did, but I understand why you thought that,” he shrugged, “we had only been seeing each other for a month, but it meant something to me,” his voice softens.
“To me too,” you shake your head, “I’m so sorry, Satoru. I don’t know how to make it up to you,” 
“I know,” he smiles, “have dinner with me,” 
You blink. “why?”
“What do you mean, sweetheart? Everyone eats dinner, it’s a—“ 
“Satoru,” you sigh, “I didn’t believe you, I didn’t trust you, how can you forgive me like that? How could you want to be with someone like that?” 
“Well, you made a mistake — you forgave me for the other mistakes I made during our time together, and if I hadn’t let my team convince me that my fake reputation as a playboy would help sell my image — maybe we wouldn’t have been in this mess to begin with,” his fingers brush against yours, “besides, I want to believe in second chances — because I’d want to believe you’d give me one too,” 
Your fingers intertwine with his, “Even when I don’t deserve it?” 
And he lifts your hand to his lips, blue eyes glinting like an ocean dabbled in sunlight, “All the more for you make up for, right?”
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This wasn’t right. No. No. 
“Satoru, Toru, please,” your fingers cupped his face, your fingers smeared with his blood as Maki pulled gou away, “no, no!” You don’t remember screaming, but you know you did because your throat was raw, your tears streaming down your face as your hands shook, staring at the dried blood on your fingers. 
He promised you he would win. He promised you he would come back. He promised you a life, a family, a home — something beyond jujutsu. 
And now you were left with nothing but that. 
“I’ll come back,” he had murmured in your ear the night before, his fingers tracing your cheek, “there’s no way I won’t. Have you ever seen me lose?” 
You give a small chuckle, “You just got trapped in a box for almost twenty days?” And he pouts, as he tilts your head up, fingers sliding against your cheek. 
“It was a one time fluke, sweetheart,” and his lips grazing your lips, “and I’m here now aren’t I?” you hum, “and I’ll always be there,” 
“In every life?” He smiles. 
“In every one.” 
In every one — except this one.  
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“One would think you’re helpless, if you pout like that,” you teased, as you crawl into bed beside him, a smile on your lips, as he tugs you steadfast into his arms, “it’s only been a few minutes,” 
“It felt like a lifetime,” he presses a kiss to your head, “Is he asleep?” And you nod, a sigh on your lips as you settle into bed.
“After about twenty minutes of arguing, he passed out while I was telling him a story. He’s still not accustomed to this mansion,” neither were you — you had spent a few nights lying awake after jerking from the clutches of sleep — the paranoia still rampant in your mind. But those thoughts were a little farther now as you lie against his chest, heart thrumming under your body — the very heart you were meant to stop, and a chuckle escapes your lips. 
“What is it?” He raises an eyebrow, and you shake your head. 
“Why did you help me?” You draw circles on his chest, “you had every reason not to,” your fingers traced a line across his neck, “I even held a knife to your neck,” 
“And that was very attractive,” and you roll your eyes, “what? I like a woman who takes charge,” 
“Oh I know,” you chuckle, your lips pressing sweet kisses to his neck, “but I still don’t understand — you had every reason to distrust me, we barely knew each other, and yet—“ 
“You were still the girl I fell in love with that night,” he murmurs, “I just knew you were something special and when I saw what you were doing — trying to uproot corruption, I knew I was right. And I knew I had to make you my duchess,” 
“Well I’m not your wife yet,” you tease, the words barely out of your mouth before he’s got you pinned under him, “Toru—“ 
“Now, I told you I was going to seize my fate when I saw it,” and he kisses you, stealing every thought from your mind and every breath from your body, his touch filling you with warmth in return, “and I see it right in front of me,” 
“And what does it look like?” you smile against his lips, as he leans down to kiss you again. 
“Bright.” 
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“Is it just me or do these paparazzi lights get brighter and brighter each time?” you rub your eyes as the two of you slide into your car for the night, the driver setting off towards your home. 
“I don’t know, I was too busy being blinded by my gorgeous wife,” and Satoru’s hands are all but under your dress, sliding up and down your sides, before one cups your cheek, “did i mention how incredible you look, sweetheart?” 
You hum, “about a million times,” your fingers slide against his shoulders until he’s practically lying on top of you against these leather seats. 
“That’s a million times too little — you look incredible, sweetheart. This dress was made for you,” and his lips taste as sweet as his words, your fingers sliding into his snowy locks while his slide against your bare thighs, “and I can’t wait to take it off when we get home,” 
“You’re going to take it off now if your hands slide any further up,” he draws a shiver from you as his hands do just that, daring further up your thighs, “Toru—“ 
“Don’t worry, the partition is up and it’s just you and me, sweetheart,” and he’s sinking to his knees on the floor, as his hands slide up your dress, “just keep your voice down, don’t want anyone hearing my wife, do we?” And his lips are grazing your inner thigh, his smirk against your skin, “good thing I relieved you of those pantyhose, huh?” 
“Toru,” you whined, as his fingers parted your thighs, and he could see your all too soaked panties, a damp patch and the fabric nearly translucent while it clung to your clit, “please—“ 
“So needy — and now that mouth of yours is being as honest as this one,” his lithe fingers tug aside the crotch of your panties to expose your cunt, “all this f’me? Been like this since our make out earlier? Surprised I didn’t see your cum drip down your legs,” 
And his words make you squirm, “Satoru, I swear to god—“ and his lips kiss your clit, as two fingers tease at your entrance, gathering your pre on his fingertips. 
“You don’t have to call me god, Princess — just Satoru is fine,” he murmurs as his lips close around your clit, as his fingers work inside your walls, a delicious stretch that draws a pretty gasp from your lips, your head falling back against the leather headrest. 
The sounds of the squelch of your cunt and the slurping of his lips against your clit rang in your ears — your fingernails digging into the seat as your other hand clamped over your lips. 
“That’s it, just like that, Princess,” his tongue darts out to  drag circles around your clit, while his fingers find the spot that makes you see stars. 
“I’m—“ you manage, before you’re cumming around his fingers and lips, your toes curling as you do, head back against the headrest. Your eyes find him to see him looking all too perfect even ruffled, as his lips were glossy with your release, tongue darting out to clean it, before he licked his fingers one by one. 
“And you were worried about the paparazzi noticing your missing pantyhose,” he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your lips, letting you taste yourself on his tongue, a smirk against your mouth, “let’s hope no one saw that,” 
And there’s a sharp rap on the window, “Sir and madam? We’ve arrived,” and his lips quirk, as he adjusts your clothes, cleaning your smudged lipstick with his thumb, as you reach up to wipe his lips where the lipstick had gone. 
“Shall we celebrate my win properly?” He opens the door and slides out of the car, holding out his hand for yours.
“As we always do?” And your fingers find his, as he presses his lips to the back of your palm. 
“Always, Princess.” 
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“Are you ready yet, Princess?” Your Prince’s arms slid around your waist, his lips already at your neck, as his ocean blues met your gaze in the mirror, “how lucky is our kingdom to have such a lovely future queen? And how much luckier am I to have her as my wife?” 
“We do not know if the people will approve of me still, Toru,” you murmur, eyes shying away from his, your fingers finding the infinity around your neck, “you promised me forever, but will they grant it to us?” 
“Do you have such little faith, sweetheart, in your future husband?” His fingers find your chin, tilting it upwards to meet your gaze, “I’ve already done the impossible — I charmed you over the last two decades haven’t I?” 
“More like wore me down,” and he pinches your cheek, before he presses a kiss to the affronted skin, “re-defined the long game,” and he kisses your nose, “and stole my heart and soul while I wasn’t looking,” 
“I never steal,” he smiles that same smile that was emblazoned in your memory all those years ago, when he emerged from the woods with not a unicorn, but a baby fawn he had frightened from very same thicket, “I only take what was given to me,” he smiles, “and you willingly handed over your heart the moment you let me into your life,” 
“What was I thinking?” you murmur, cupping his cheek, “now I’ll have to deal with the politics of a kingdom for the rest of my days,” 
His lips curl widely, as his lips find yours, a heat that simmers into passion and then into simple love, “I promise, in exchange, I’ll spend the rest of my days making you the happiest you’ve ever been,” 
“The happiest, huh?” you murmur, foreheads pressed together, “that’s a tall order, so you think you can do it?” 
“I know I can,” he smiles, his arms pulling you impossibly closer, “because I’ll never trying to make you happy, Princess.” 
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“You’re far too happy with this arrangement,” you say through the door, arms crossed as you pressed your back against it, “I don’t want to come out,” 
“You agreed to this, c’mon sweetheart, you’ve taken countless pictures of me—“ 
“You’re a model — it’s literally your job,” you glare at him through the door, “I’m behind the camera — not in front of it,” 
“But you’re just as beautiful in front of it as you are behind it,” and you can hear his pout through the door, “if you really don’t want to, sweetheart, I won’t make you—“ 
And the door opens, your lips curled in a pout as you emerge in a cerulean gown — the same color as his eyes, the very same that widened upon seeing you. 
“Was this necessary?” you squirm in place, as he bites his lip, eyes raking over you, “Toru—“ 
And he’s in front of you in an instant, his arms winding aaaaaaaaround your waist, “I want to kiss you so badly, but I’ll mess up your makeup,” your breath catches, so his finger brushes against your lips and presses it to his own lips, a little of your lipstick sticking to his lips. 
“Toru,” and his lips quirk at the nickname, “why do you want to take pictures of me?” 
“Because, I want pictures of you that are just for me,” he gently takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your wrist, “because I’ll never have this moment with you again, but I’ll have these pictures with you,” 
“And when do I get pictures that are of you and just for me?” And he presses a kiss to your head. 
“Anytime you want,” he murmurs, “we have all the time in the world, don’t we?” 
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Time — that was the one thing Satoru Gojo always lacked. It felt as if his whole life was an hourglass, waiting for the sand to run out — and the one time it came close, blood seeping like sand through his neck, he was able to turn it on its head, until time was on his side agai.  
He wasn’t sure if time was on his side now.  
He could only see the winter sky above — flecks of white he could think were snow but never be sure if that was his vision going blurry. He couldn’t feel anything — but he heard the all too distant squelch of his blood against the ground, the sounds of footsteps, the feeling of his body being lifted, a smile still on his face.
He was going home — the one person who always made his world right side up — the only person who could catch the sand that slipped between his fingers and hold it between warm palms. He forced his body to keep running — to keep going, the flow of cursed energy may have come from the stomach and his brain may be able to power his reversed curse technique — but that didn’t compare to his will to make it home — make it to you. 
“Toru! Satoru!” he couldn’t will his eyes to open, only managing the barest flutter of his eyelids, “it’s okay, Shoko’s got you, I got you,” you murmur, a soft brush that must but your lips. 
Love was always the most twisted curse of them all — and he knew it had always been a curse to love him. Anyone drawn into his orbit seemed only doomed to fall around him — whether it was by their choice, his choice, or fate’s choice. 
Fate. That was a word he never had put a lot of stock into. Suguru always said there was a certain order to things — sorcerers were made to defend humans, and that was our duty. He had replied that fate was an excuse for people too afraid to challenge the status quo. 
Maybe Suguru took that too seriously. 
When Suguru defected — Satoru knew something had to change — he couldn’t let others go even when they had that blue spring. The time that he had stayed frozen in — even as everyone else left, he still lived in those moments, and so he barely lived in the present at all. 
Not until you had shattered his self made prison. 
And it wasn’t without difficulty. 
He told you so many times that it was dangerous to love him, it was foolish to love a person like him with a constant target on their back because inevitably the target would shift to you. And he didn’t want to live in a world without you — but he could choose to, as long as you were the one who would live. 
But you were steadfast in your love, roots cracking through concrete until he was covered in your ivy, entangled so deep that there was no escape—because one look from you had stolen his reservations out from under him. Because loving you was as simple as breathing — it just was. 
“I would want you to curse me — in every life.” 
That’s what he told you the night before this battle — because he knew if he didn’t make it in this life, maybe he could be with you in the rest of them. But how many days would it take until you couldn’t remember the sound of his laugh, the smile on his lips, the way his face looked — because he always feared the same about outliving you. He would only want to outlive you, if only because he didn’t want you to have to bear the pain of outliving him. 
Love was twisted, he thought — as your lips brushed his, he could hear you whisper sweet nothings, falling on deaf ears, but heard all the same — once one found it, they cannot live without it — until they have to. 
His eyes flutter open, and he sees the blurry image of your face, scarlet smeared on your face, as his hand shakily lifted to your cheek, “I love you, sweetheart,” he manages barely a whisper, “I’ll see you again, I promise.”
Maybe he did curse you in the end — because your souls were bound together in existence — to fall into each other’s orbit and live together happily in every lifetime—
Your fingers gently shut his eyes closed, as tears streamed from your own — except in this one. 
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“Is it really a curse to meet you again?” you had murmured that early morning, as dawn peaked over Tokyo, and his lips brushed against yours, “sounds like a blessing,” 
“You know that blessings often wear disguises — and words like that always carry a price—” but his lips curl, “but if the price is to meet you and fall in love again and again, I suppose I could pay it.” 
“‘Suppose?’” you repeat, and he laughs at your immediate pout. 
He kisses away your pout, as you slowly melt into his kiss, “Y’know I’d pay any price to fall in love with you again, sweetheart”
You smile, “Just stay with me in this one, that would be enough.” 
Did other lives matter when this was the only one he had fallen for you in this life? He wanted to stay with you here — in this moment, in this time — he wanted you in every life — not just all the others. 
And he vowed that he would— his fingers twitched— 
He would love you in this life too. 
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✧ a/n: i hope you guys enjoy this one!! i had a lot of fun writing it. it might not be everyone's cup of tea but hey, i enjoyed it. although i questioned my writing ability a lot while writing it lmao
✧ taglist: @gojolova4eva, @xxemmarldxx, @gojolvrr34, @lilbrubby, @jaixxxsc, @hatsunemitskislobotomy, @elaemae, @gojonegs, @captain-shittykawa, @sillyrabbitreads, @akumicchi, @satorustorm, @equikaz, @imaginativeghorl, , @dhoranbolt, @strawmariee, @catsgomurp, @that-goth-bisexual, @fushitoru, @dazailover1900
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deceitfuldevout · 4 months
Text
Until Death (Part 1)
Arranged Marriage AU: Dark!Husband!Rafe Cameron x Wife!Reader
Word Count: +1,524
Warning(s): +18, Non con, Non consensual photographing, Domestic Violence, Humiliation, Forced breeding, Unwanted orgasm.
Author's Note(s): I wrote this cause I really wanna get married and find someone to love me but I don’t think it’s possible so here’s a fic instead 🥲
You never would've imagined being married to the Kook king himself, Rafe Cameron. But here you were, almost a year in. From the beginning you felt like an outsider. Even in the new home that Ward had gifted you. It was decision made by both of your fathers. Ward wanted someone from a family he knew very well. Your fathers were childhood friends and trusted each other enough to make the right decision. Whether their children were willing to or not. An arranged marriage between a Kook and a Pogue. One of the first of its kind.
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Ward needed an heir from his only son. It was about time Rafe learned some responsibility. Ward needed to find a family with no authority or power. So, what better decision than to contact an old friend from the cut? Ward managed to pull himself out of there, your father on the other hand, wasn't so lucky. However, by Mr. Cameron's gracious offer, your father had been given a position in his company. Ward would handle the paperwork, while your father handled construction and remodeling.
It was enough to get by, but not enough to get out of the cut. That's why your father made the brash decision. Ward didn't see a problem with the arrangement given your family had no name for themselves. To him, having a family with no name or status is better than being involved with a tarnished one. It would avoid any unwanted attention for the Cameron family.
All your father wants is to make sure his only child would be taken care of once he's gone. You've only met Rafe during family events/outings, and when you did meet, he'd always try to torment you. Other than that, most of time would be spent clinging to Sarah for protection.
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You hadn't known about the arrangement until a week prior. You defiantly hadn't expected Rafe to get on one knee in front of everyone. Your engagement was a nightmare, Rafe had decided to ambush you during the Kook's annual midsummer event. A few months later you married into the Cameron family. The event being of the most lavish, expensive, and largest weddings in the history of the Outer Banks.
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Rafe made the decision that your honeymoon would be spent ‘setting up home’. You bid your family and friends a farewell before leaving with your husband. It was awkward enough that he'd been drinking for most of the night. What was supposed to be a beautiful ceremony quickly became a frat party. It was awkward enough when Rafe (who'd been drinking most of the night) tried carrying you across the threshold of what was your new home. He stumbles a few times, almost dropping you on the front steps. All you wanted was to go to bed after a long and eventful day.
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In a fit of rage you rush up the stairs and into the master bedroom. You hadn't even changed out of your wedding dress. Deciding that it would be done tomorrow, as would everything else. It was tiring, putting on an act in front of hundreds of people. You were relieved for it to be over with. Until the harsh turning of the doorknob catches your attention. In came a very intoxicated Rafe Cameron, stumbling in with his tie already undone.
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His hair was a mess from wrestling his groomsman, his expensive cologne overtaken by the stench of alcohol. All you want now is to sleep after being anxiety ridden for the past few hours. But the shuffling on the end of the bed made your stomach churn. Maybe if you pretended to be asleep he would leave you be.
Rafe reaches down to brush the back of his hand on your cheek. He couldn't help but chuckle at his fiancee--no, his wife. You're his wife now and he couldn't believe it. He grins from cheek to cheek, hovering over to study your features. You could hear Rafe talking to himself, "You're even prettier up close..."
Rafe was fine with the wedding day being for his wife, but it was the wedding night that belonged to the husband. 
He gets on his knees, preparing to strike. He pulls you but the ankle, dragging you across the bedsheets. He locks his arms around your thighs to pull you in. It was futile trying to fight back. Rafe rips away at the fabric, revealing what was for his eyes only. He doesn't waste time getting to work, suckling, lapping, and teasing at your sex.
When he starts to dip his tongue inside that's when you crumble beneath him. Your thighs shake when coming undone. A gush of arousal splashes his face. Rafe doesn't stop there, instead he keeps going until you're brought to tears cumming for the second time. He retreats with a triumphant look on his face.  
"Hey...." he whispers followed by a harsh grip on your jaw that turns your attention back to him, "Hey," his voice boomed. He held you in place, looking you right in the eyes when he states, "Look at me," a small pause follows, "No one is coming through that door to save you," he readjusts his grip, digging his fingers into your jaw, "No one is coming through that door, we're the only ones here," leaning in, "And if they heard they wouldn't care, they know their place," before lifting your skirt up, "It's about time you did too," Rafe held his cock in one hand, his other held your hip in place. He pumps his shaft a few times before rubbing it against your slick. He moans, "Oh fuck...can't wait to stuff you with it..." Rafe dips his head into the crook of your neck, his lips find that sweet spot. He suckles until he's certain there would be bruising.  
"You can scream all you want, no one’s gonna stop me,” he presses his leaking tip against the small opening, pushing it in without hesitation, “Not you…” he just his hips, “Not our families,” thrusting his cock inside, “No one…” fastening his pace. He’d been waiting for this moment for a long, long time. You had no idea that Rafe had willingly entered this marriage.
Can’t you see? He’s been in love with you for as long as he can remember. Yet you kept denying him repeatedly. Now Rafe has everything he’s ever wanted. He’s inherited the Cameron family fortune, gained the trust of his father as well as yours, and now he has you.  
He doesn’t stop thrusting his hips back and forth. Reveling in the feeling of you squeezing his member. It was exactly how he’d fantasized about. No more having to spend late nights wondering what you would feel like. He has you right where he wants. Rafe pulls down your top, exposing both breasts. He nips and suckles at them until they’re nice and bruised. He takes pride in being able to do so. Rafe squeezes your mouth open before pressing his lips against them. He sucks your tongue into his mouth, swirling it around his. The taste of liquor makes you nauseous.  
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This wasn’t how you wanted to end the night. In the end you never had a choice. Your entire life revolving around men in power. A lamb sent to be slaughter, given only the right to live. Even if it meant living for someone else. Rafe presses his sweaty forehead against yours. He snarls, "You're my wife until I fucking die, do you hear me? Until death," his teeth sink into the flesh of your shoulder, digging hard enough to break skin.
A howl escapes your body as pain shot through it. Rafe held you close to him until he finally reached his limit and finishes inside. A deep, guttural moan is muffled into the bite mark. For a moment the two of you stay together until finally Rafe draws back. He’s a panting mess. He could practically feel how slick you became. He lets out a satisfying huff of victory. Rafe had won.  
A part of him wants to remember the day he finally got to take you. Then it hits him, “Wait…don’t move,” rummaging through a cabinet. He retreats down the hall. You could hear him searching for something in the unopened boxes. He then returns to you with a Polaroid in hand. He straddles your waist, aiming the lens at you. Rafe smiles, “Something to remember this moment...” he aims it right in your face, “...our first time as husband and wife,” before clicking it.
You could only give a startled look as you stare back at him. Like a deer caught in headlights. Rafe inspects the photo of you. He whistles at the beautifully captured moment. There you were, staring back at him with smudged lipstick and running mascara. You only blink as he stood there, snapping pictures like it was some heartfelt moment. What was supposed to be the most important day of your life, ended in the worst way imaginable.
"Smile for me Mrs. Cameron..."
Rafe was fine with the conditions of inheritance. In order to stay in his father's will, he would have to settle down first. But if there's one thing Ward taught him, it's to negotiate. Rafe remembers striking the deal in his father's office. For the first time ever, the young Cameron man put his foot down,
"No," Rafe states,
Ward looks up at his son, "I'm sorry?"
"I'm not getting married, not unless it's her," he's dead serious too. Ward sighs, he leans back in his chair, "Do you really want to marry this girl?" questioning his son's authenticity. Rafe nods, "It's always been her,"
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Ward understands now that his son's mind is made up. Not even he could stop it, "Rafe...you have to understand that her father is a very important member of my company..." he starts, "...he's a bit of a... traditionalist," he pushes himself off the desk, approaching his son, "He expects a certain price for her hand, that I’m not worried about…” he held Rafe's shoulder.
Ward looks his son dead in the eyes to show how serious this situation was to both of their families, “Do not fuck this up, you only get one shot and then you're done, do you hear me? Done," he expects an answer. Rafe looks him in the eyes, there’s a park of determination in the young Cameron man, “I won't,” sealing the deal. Ward picks up his phone and dials up your father’s number, "My friend, you're needed at the office, it's about time we discuss family matters,"
The best decision Rafe made was making you Mrs. Cameron.
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saetoru · 11 months
Text
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。08:00 PM — AL-HAITHAM.
idk i just felt like. writing haitham grieving his grandmother. it’s also a slight character study ig. idk if anyone will read this but if you do. just know that he is the core of my heart. his grandmother too i mourn her death so much sobs
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“hey,” you say gently, sitting next to him. al-haitham only grunts in acknowledgment, slumped on the couch. “d’you want dinner? i made your favorite.”
“not hungry,” he mumbles.
his grandmother’s death anniversary is a sore spot. it’s a day you tiptoe around carefully every year. you don’t know much about his family—just that he was orphaned very young and raised by his father’s mother until the ripe age of 16. you’ve seen the dainty handwriting inside the covers of books, and you’ve even seen a small, framed photograph that he keeps stowed away.
sometimes, you wish he’d tell you. you wish the far away look and the clenched fist around the fabric of his pants would ease with your presence. you wish he’d tell you about her, that you’d know the woman who raised the man you love—even if only through hushed words and old stories.
“you hate sleeping on an empty stomach,” you hum, placing your hand over his clenched one.
his fist loosens a little—progress.
“i…” he pauses, let’s out a heavy sigh before letting his head fall back. there’s tension in his shoulders, in his neck, in the jaw he keeps so tightly clenched. “i won’t be sleeping for a bit. sorry,” he tries to sound apologetic. you don’t hear much in his tone besides defeat. “you can head in without me.”
“that’s okay,” you shrug, forcing his clenched fingers apart to weave yours in with his. “i don’t sleep well without you anyway.”
“suit yourself,” is all he says.
and it’s silent for a bit. he seems to be thinking deeply—or reminiscing, maybe grieving. maybe all three, but you’re not too sure. you’re never too sure when it comes to how al-haitham feels about anything.
he’s hard to decipher—but he’s easy to pull apart. you don’t understand how someone as hard and calculating as him is so gentle with love, but it’s hard not to notice how soft his touch is, how it lingers, how the tips of his fingers long for you. you don’t doubt he loves you—he never gives you the chance to.
but sometimes….sometimes you wish he’d let you love him properly. to kiss the scars. to admire the parts he thinks are ugly. to shelter the thoughts that have no home besides his own head.
it’s silent for a bit—until it’s not. you break the silence first, like you’re holding a hand out for him from the shore as he drifts aimlessly.
“baby?” you ask quietly. he grunts again in response. “what was she like?”
“who?”
al-haitham is a smart man. probably the smartest you’ve ever met. you don’t think you’ve ever met someone who read physics books as a pastime, and you’re pretty certain he’ll always be the only one. you know he knows exactly what you’re asking and you know he’s avoiding it.
but it doesn’t stop you though—it’s been long enough, you think. you’ve known him long enough. craved him for a few summers and loved him for enough winters that he has pieces of you that fall through the cracks of your resolve.
you think you deserve a few pieces of him too—even if your fingers have to reach past the cracks themselves, even if they have to slice against the jagged edges and bleed a little in the process.
you’ll bleed for him—like the sun rises from the east and sets in the west, your heart beats for al-haitham. and it’ll bleed for him too.
“your grandmother,” you whisper. “you’ve never told me about her.”
“there’s not much to tell,” he shrugs. “she died right before i enrolled in the akademiya and she raised me after my parents died.”
“i’m sure there’s more,” you say gently—his grip has tightened on your hand now. you don’t think he realizes—in fact, you don’t think al-haitham realizes half of what he feels when it comes to vulnerability.
it’s why he realizes he loves you so late. it’s why you fall first and he falls after. but he falls harder—it’s not hard to see.
“she was a kshahrewar scholar,” he offers blankly.
your thumb brushes over his knuckles, and it’s almost like your hand reaches past the shore just a little further—you don’t mind risking the fall into the water if it means pulling him out.
“haitham,” you sigh delicately. he swallows. it’s hard to keep composure for long—even for someone like him.
grief is an evil thing. it’s a familiar friend—one you wish you never made and one you’ll never shake away. it dances with you under the moonlight, when the stars are bright but the sky is heavy. it barely grazes your skin some days but weighs into your bones on others. it’s a cruel thing really—and it hits you harder some moments than others.
“she was kind,” he starts slowly, his hand reaching out and grabbing yours over the shoreline. maybe, just maybe, sometimes he can get tired of drifting too. “she liked to bake. her hands got too weak to knead dough when i got older, though. you would have liked her tarts. she couldn’t read without her glasses and she always forgot they were on her head. she said my father looked like her husband and that i look like my father. she used to ask me to read to her sometimes so i’d sit on her lap and read my books out loud. she loved the sunrise but was never good at waking up on time to see it. she used to drink tea during sunsets. she liked hers extra sweet and i liked mine more bitter. i…” he pauses, voice shaky as his fingers dig into your hand. you squeeze, and he sniffles. “i haven’t had tea since she passed.”
“she sounds lovely,” you whisper. “i would have loved to meet her.”
“she’d have loved you,” he cracks a small smile, shaking his head as he thinks. “probably more than she loved me.”
“i’m sure i’d never compare to her darling grandson,” you chuckle, bumping arms with him. his head drops to your shoulder—you hesitate for a moment before deciding to pull him into your chest. and when he doesn’t protest, when he buries himself into you instead of pulling away, you thread your fingers into his hair.
“i miss her,” he croaks quietly.
“i know,” you soothe. “i know, baby.”
al-haitham has only ever known love twice in his life. one is gone but it lives through the other. the gentle touch against his scalp and the warmth under his cheek is familiar—it feels like the lap he slept on when he was six. it feels like the delicate hands that cupped his cheeks when he was eight. it feels like the soft kisses against his temple when he was ten.
al-haitham has only ever known love twice in his life, and he’s glad that one of them is you.
“you’d have loved her too,” his voice breaks. you kiss his head as you feel your shirt dampen.
“i already do,” you murmur, “she raised you well. i have her to thank.”
his breath hitches at that—and then he pulls you closer, grasps you tighter, falls in love with you harder. his grandmother’s death anniversary has always been a sore spot—but somehow, you numb the ache even if by just a little.
gently, your hand clasps his and pulls him to shore. he’s grateful he doesn’t have to drift alone anymore.
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there is nothing i’m more obsessed with than al-haitham’s childhood. i have so many thought about it. and him. and his character. and his inner thoughts and feelings and most of them revolve around his grandmother and more importantly her passing. and idk. he’s just sosososo important to me i wish we knew more about his grandmother. i love her so much i grieve her passing even though we’ve never even met her 😭
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heeseungwifey · 5 months
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It's like a Polaroid... nude?
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pairing: IdolJay! x y/n
warning: contains smut!
Jay loved fan mail. Receiving letters about how much someone loves him always strokes his ego, feeling rewarded for his hard job. He’s a total workaholic, both professionally and in his private life. He goes to the gym, eats healthy, rests well. He loves how his fans notice his muscular physique in the comments. 
Letters are usually from young girls, he appreciates the love and support but would never correspond to the romantic aspect of the messages. Often some older girls, his age and a bit younger make advances and he, as a man, feels the urge to meet up with them, signing an NDA just in case. They are groupies that just enjoy the experience but they never leave a big impact on him. 
The whole group goes to the hotel after a concert, exhausted from the busy schedule. Jay sees a group of fans waiting outside, his eyes meeting the most beautiful eyes he has ever seen. The girl is standing there with a face mask on and a letter in her hand, she doesn’t seem as excited as the others and Jay gets curious.
The boys get closer to the crowd, signing CDs and receiving fan letters, all normal. Jay, on the other hand, is cautiously looking at this mysterious girl and directly grabs her letter, mouthing a thank you. 
The boys get in the van and some of them open the letters to read out loud, not aware that Jay has only picked up one, hidden inside his jacket waiting to read it at the hotel. He doesn’t know why but his intuition tells him the content of that letter is only for his eyes to see.
It’s midnight and Jay is ready to go to sleep, his pyjamas and skincare are done. He picks up the letter and touches it, feeling like there’s more than a letter, like little pieces of what seems like photographic paper. When he opens the envelope, a bunch of polaroids fall from inside, his curiosity spiking. When he flips them around he sees the girl who gave him the letter, wearing just her bra and red lipstick. it’s a selfie, her beautiful eyes and riqué outfit taking all the attention. The next Polaroid is a shot further away from her face, showing that she’s just wearing her bra and panties, getting Jay’s ears red for such an intimate gift. That’s what he thought until he saw the next one, her tits on full display and just her red lips, such a lewd picture Jay had to stop and read the letter. 
“Dear Jay,
This is me showing my love for you. I noticed you are trying so hard to look hot these days, did you think I wouldn’t notice your muscular tanned arms in those outfits of yours? Your strong legs while dancing and your huge bulge when you sit down? You grow the monster inside of me that wants to fuck you so dumb that you don’t even know the days of the week. To leave you so dry you don’t get with another bitch ever again in your life. To leave you like a puppy waiting for me. I wanted to return the favour for all this hard work and give you a little gift.
Here are some polaroids for your eyes only, for those lonely nights when you need help. I am your whore, just text me and I’ll go anywhere. You got me on my knees.
love and kisses, 
xxx xxx xxx”
Jay couldn’t believe what he just read. Her name wasn’t even on the letter, just her phone number. And a kiss with the red lipstick. Jay picked the other polaroids, realising right there that those left were way worse. A mirror picture fully naked, a close-up of her open legs, her red dripping pussy at the centre of the shot. A picture of her inserting a toy and looking at the camera with her tongue out was his favourite. 
He had to call her. Needed to. His eyes were darting from polaroid to polaroid, his bulge growing bigger and bigger and his thoughts clouding, just flashes of red lips. Jay picks up his phone and calls the number, waiting impatiently for her to pick up, biting his nails and touching his groin mindlessly. 
“Hello?” a sweet voice picks up the phone, which makes Jay wonder if he dialled the wrong number. How could a girl who makes such gifts have a voice this soft?
“Hello! Yeah, I received a letter today and it had someone's phone number, this phone number to be more precise. Is there any chance that the girl who gave me this letter is you?” 
“Jay? Is it you?”
“yeah, it’s me” Jay jumps on his seat, so it is her, the girl with the pretty eyes.
“Oh Jay, did you like my letter? I made it with so much love, I can’t believe you read it” She sounds naughty over the other side of the line, with a sultry voice mixed with innocence. 
“yeah, I did like it… a lot. I was wondering if you were up to meeting today, at my hotel” Jay is unsure this is gonna turn alright, asking with no confidence. 
“Oh really? Do you want me to go?” she sounds happy on the other side of the line, excited to meet her celebrity crush. 
“Yes, I do. I’m at the Palace Hotel, when you get to the front desk ask for room 549. A bodyguard will bring you up here” Jay can’t even believe what he’s doing, being used to meeting with girls he saw at the club and interacted a bit with, no a stranger.
“Okay Jay, I’ll be there in 20 minutes!” she sounded happy and decided like she knew exactly what she was doing.
Jay was tense instantly. Fuck, 20 minutes was too much waiting. He started picking from the floor the clothes and shoes that were scattered all around the room, to give a good impression. Making the bed, tugging the bedsheets and placing the pillows in their place. God, he even took a shower and cut his toenails. He was so desperate to give a good impression to this girl who, being honest, he didn’t have to win. She was already coming to his hotel room to fuck him anyways. 
When Jay was getting unsure she was gonna show up, three light knocks sounded from outside his hotel room. As fast as he could he got up from the bed and walked towards the door, trying to keep his cool. 
When he opened the door he was met with the same eyes he had seen that afternoon, foxy and deep brown. He was speechless, as if he hadn’t been imagining this situation for 20 minutes. 
“Hello Jay! Sorry for being late, couldn’t find a taxi” He opened the door for her, her figure walked inside the room. jay noticed what she was wearing, a long coat and knee-high boots. It was quite an outfit, given that it wasn’t that cold of weather to be in such a wintery outfit. 
“Can I ask for your name…? You didn’t tell me in the letter” Jay closed the door and walked to where she was, sitting in his bed and her purse on the table under the TV. 
“Oh really! how silly… my name is y/n. Sorry, I guess I wasn’t focused when I was writing the letter…” She’s sitting with her legs crossed, subtle movements that Jay catches as she’s rubbing them. She remembers what she wrote in the letter.
How could she forget when in front of her was Jay in a tank top and grey sweatpants, his sexy and toned biceps on sight and his protruding bulge obviously waiting for her. She knew what she had done with that letter and those polaroids, ready to satisfy him as soon as she walked into the room. 
“Oh, nice to meet you, y/n.” Jay gets close to kiss her on the cheek, as a greeting, but she turns her head and kisses him on the mouth instead. Yeah, fuck it, they both know for what they came for. Let’s stop acting dumb. 
Her hands push his head to deepen the kiss,  grabbing a fistful of his hair. Jay is standing right in between her legs as she’s sitting down and he’s standing. When the kiss gets more heated she takes off her boots and stands up on the bed, tongue-tied with him as she takes off her coat, wearing nothing underneath but a lingerie set. Jay can’t believe his eyes as he looks up at that sight. His hands go straight to her ass, groping and massaging it. God, the kiss has gotten him so worked up he needs to take his pants off immediately. 
“Oh baby, does it hurt down there? Do you want me to help you with that?” she says as she grabs his shoulders and gets off the bed, already on her knees by the time Jay gets to moan a yes. 
“Sit down honey, I’m going to put my money where my mouth is” Y/n pulls his pants down and pushes him to sit on the bed, his dick springing out and looking achingly red and precum coming out of it. 
“I knew it, it’s big! Fuck Jay, you don’t have an idea of how many times I have thought about doing this  to you…” She kisses it right on the head  “How many times I’ve fantasised about how it looks…” Another kiss “How it tastes…” she takes it and puts it in her mouth, slightly sucking on it. “Do you like it?’”
Jay can’t even speak, he’s sweating and if he tries to open his mouth he might let a whimper escape. She knows she’s doing a good job by Jay’s reaction so she keeps on going. Saliva all over his dick and her head bobbing as she makes eye contact with him, her hands slightly scratching his thighs. 
“stop… no, no… STOP” Jay grabs her head and stops her, trying really hard not to come because of the popping sound of her mouth leaving his dick. He knows himself and much rather fuck her with the energy he has now than waste it on some blowjob. He needs to fuck her and feel her tight walls around his cock, filling her with his cum. As much as he loves her mouth he knows she’s way better fuck. 
“I don’t wanna come yet baby girl… let me be inside you for that” Jay gets y/n from the ground and sits her on the bed, lifting her by her ass and placing her in the middle of the bed. The lingerie set is starting to bother him, taking off the garters and the bra, leaving her only in her panties and thigh-high tights. Jay starts sucking and licking her perky nipples, moans escaping from her mouth as she just pushes his head up to her chest, going insane every second that passes and Jay doesn’t fuck her.
“Jay, please… do something, it hurts” y/n is almost crying at this point, rubbing her thighs is not enough to relieve the heat she feels between her legs. Jay smirks, pulling slowly her panties off and breathing heavily right next to her heat.
“Does it hurt here? do you need me to help you ease the pain?” Jay looks at y/n face from between her legs, y/n just wishing she could take a picture and keep this moment forever. Jay puts in one finger, realising how wet and ready she is for him. After getting three fingers in and many complaints from y/n to just fuck her already, Jay goes to his backpack and pulls out a condom. 
“Okay baby, I’m going in. You okay with it?” Even after almost supplicating him to fuck her he still makes sure she really wants to, which y/n feels a fire in her belly, he's 10x times hotter now than she already thought. 
“Yes Jay, I want you to fuck me like none has ever done it to me before” And with a kiss they both seal this promise, Jay going full in and bottoming out. He waits a few seconds so y/n can get used to the size, getting a few strands of hair out of her face, feeling too intimate while doing missionary position.
Jay starts moving slowly, y/n already asking for more and more, Jay feeling how her walls keep on getting tighter and tighter. He’s worried to get into it, cumming way too soon. His view is criminal, her hair all over the bed, her rosy cheeks and open mouth, her tits bouncing with each thrust… Jay needs to make her come before him so he starts doing circles on her clit, getting whimpers in response. Y/n is almost done, too tired to keep on going for this round. 
“Jay… Jay, I’m coming… stop it’s too much, I’m coming hard, ARHHHG!!!” y/n is laying on the bed, with blurry vision and an aching body. Jay finishes right after her, taking the condom off and painting her belly with his seed, satisfied with his job. 
y/n lays there for half an hour, Jay has let her chill on his hotel bed. She’s asleep as he cleans her up from the mess he made and waits for her to wake up to get her a bath ready. By the time she’s up again, Jay is cuddling with her and kissing her forehead, like she was his girlfriend and not some groupie. 
“Did you have fun? I think you kept your promise” Jay smiles as he remembers what the letter said. 
“What did I promise?” y/n is quite disoriented from the kick nap she just took
“You said something like… you were going to fuck me so dumb that … I wouldn’t even know the days of the week or something along those lines hahaha” y/n hides under the blankets as Jay pets her head. 
“To be honest… I wrote that when I was drunk… and horny… like I had just seen a fancam of you and you looked soo good… I got sad I didn’t stand a chance with you. But I guess I did” y/n looks up at him and he’s smiling at her, so cute she just had to kiss him. 
“So you were horny and you wrote that letter?”
“And took those polaroids, thinking of what your reaction could be to them. I guess I know now” 
“And did you think of me while you were touching yourself with that toy?” Jay wonders, already knowing the answer. 
“I don’t think I have ever touched myself without thinking of you Jay, I thought about you 24/7”
“That sounds good… now you just don’t have to think of me, now you can call me” Jay smirks and y/n understands perfectly, this will happen over and over again…
1K notes · View notes
welcometomyoasis · 2 months
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Seventeen's reaction to their 14th member being female
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Synopsis: when it is announced that seventeen will have a 14th member who is female, what would the seventeen members’ reactions be like.  Svt x platonic fem! reader | idol au, fluff, angst | 2.2k words| warnings: hate comments, periods, mention of physical attacks, food, unconsented photographs | requested by anon A/n: I had a great time writing this request so thank you anon! I hope you like it!
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✧₊⁺ Seungcheol
Leader mode activated. His first thought is “what is the company thinking? Are they crazy?” As the leader, he will try to make sure you are as comfortable in the group as possible but there are always going to be things out of his control. He’s worried about what the fans would think, how well you will fit into the group as the sole female member, whether the group dynamics would change, whether you would need extra security, etc. Yea, to say he is worried and hesitant, that would be an understatement. He works himself up to the point where you feel bad and offer to leave the company if your addition is going to be a burden. But Seungcheol insists that it’s okay, and that he’s just taking his responsibilities as leader very seriously to ensure that everyone is adjusting well. He’s apologetic that he can’t spend as much time with you because of his duties, though he reassures you that the rest of the members will take good care of you. He raised them well. So don’t worry okay? He’s not called the alpha leader for nothing. 
✧₊⁺ Jeonghan 
Vice leader mode activated. While Seungcheol begins to fret over having to keep the peace between the members, the company, and the fans, Jeonghan takes on the responsibility of getting you settled into the group. Afterall, he’s the group’s pillar of emotional support. He’s giving you tours of the practice room, introducing you to the staff members they work with, talking you through their quirks, and schedules. He knows that it’s a losing battle to try and fight against your addition to the group. So, why not make the best of the situation? He’s going to tell you to come to him for anything regardless of the time. He will do everything in his power to make sure you feel welcomed. He might not be the member who is the most visibly protective of you, but you can bet that behind the scenes, he’s keeping a close eye on the situation. Everyone better treat you well. They will have hell to pay if they don’t. 
✧₊⁺ Joshua
Protective gentleman mode activated. Joshua already is the perfect gentleman with the rest of the members (especially when they are on camera). But when the news comes that you’re going to be added to the group, his gentleman-like nature multiples 10 fold. He welcomes you readily, while he might not be physically with you all the time, you know that he’s keeping one eye out for you. He’s always handing you blankets or his jacket to cover your legs/ shoulders. He passes you the water bottle first before opening another one for himself. He’s protecting you from door handles even if there’s no danger there. He walks behind you so no one can take weird photographs of your behind. During that time of the month, he’s especially attentive to you, making sure you don’t overstrain yourself and that you’re eating well. No one questions him when he whips out medication or extra feminine products for you in the situation where you run out. 
✧₊⁺ Junhui
Inquisitive cat mode activated. A new member is interesting. The dynamics of the group will change, especially in this case because you’re a female. Junhui is generally more shy with new people at first, but once he warms up to you and gets used to having you around, he’s going to be asking you a ton of questions. He wants to get to know you, as a member, a fellow performer, and as a friend. What are your hobbies? Yes he knows your position in the group but do you like rapping, singing or dancing more? Are you an actor? He really really wants to know all the details like how did you get yourself into this mess that is joining seventeen? He’s interested in all of your performance outfits too. He probably tries it on at some point and accidentally ruins the seams and stitches. You’re going to laugh at him getting scolded while your outfit is getting mended. 
✧₊⁺ Soonyoung
Excited tiger mode activated. Besides being mildly worried about needing to alter all the formations for choreography, Soonyoung wouldn’t really care about having a female member added to seventeen. To him, it’s a refreshing change in the world of kpop where male female friendships are usually treated as a taboo subject. He’ll be extremely proud that seventeen would be the pioneers in adding a female member to the group and one of the only co-ed groups in the industry. He’s also so creative when it comes to the choreography that he will be interested to blend more feminine moves into the dances. It’s not only so that you will have time to shine, but also to switch up the dances a little. Dance is art. Who cares about whether the dance is supposed to be more masculine or feminine. He’s going to shake what he has been blessed with as much as he wants. You are going to be the insufferable duo doing all the dance challenges together.  
✧₊⁺ Wonwoo
Shy black cat mode activated. Out of all the members, I would say that Wonwoo has the hardest time adjusting to you joining the group. It’s mostly due to his own introverted nature. He just takes a while to really warm up to new people, and what’s more, as a member, you will now spend a significant amount of time with them. He’ll feel a little awkward at the change in dynamic because it’s like a destabilising force to a place he felt so safe and comfortable in. He’ll keep his distance at first until he’s ready to approach you. Once he does, it’s like there was never that barrier between you in the first place. Wonwoo is such a thoughtful, observant person that although he wasn’t interacting with you, he was still picking up on all your habits and quirks. He’ll blend into your routine pretty quickly, offering you water and snacks whenever he thinks you’re getting tired or hungry. His intellect is also admirable and his way of dealing with issues or articulating things helps you a lot when you’re feeling stressed but aren’t able to verbalise it properly. In the end, he’s one of your comfort people. 
✧₊⁺ Woozi
Creative mode activated. As seventeen’s producer, and also as a leader of seventeen, he does share some of the worries that Seungcheol has. It’s a big change and there will have to be a long period of adjustment. Still, the creative part of him is just buzzing to get going. A female member changes a lot of things when it comes to the songs he can produce. He’ll volunteer to be your vocal trainer, helping you to get used to seventeen’s previous songs and also just to get a feel of your strengths and weaknesses. It turns out that he loves the contrast between your voice and the deeper voices of the rest of the members. Your voice adds more colour and flavour into the songs. He likes experimenting to see which members’ voices complement yours the best, and he absolutely loves the fact that you can help him record more demos so he can see the differences in the vibes of the same song. He ends up hogging you for help so much that the rest of the members have to forcefully drag you away from his studio. 
✧₊⁺ Dokyeom
Shadow mode activated. He’s a ball of sunshine but Dokyeom practically becomes your shadow once you are introduced. He’s following you everywhere like a lost puppy. He can’t help it, he’s just so excited and happy to have a new member in seventeen. Not going to lie, you were a little weirded out at how he was sticking to you in the beginning, but his enthusiasm is contagious. You’re soon running around together like two gremlins screaming and making jokes in between practice as the rest of the members shake their heads and watch you both adoringly. Both of you might end up as your own comedy duo. The Dokyeom-Y/n pair soon becomes the most popular grouping during gose. For some reason, you two crackheads make everything seem more fun which helps to lighten the spirits of the whole group. 
✧₊⁺ Minghao
Protective, no nonsense mode activated. When you first join the group, Minghao is probably one of the members that you feel intimidated by, though you’re able to warm up to each other soon enough. He’s stern but patient with you during dance practice. You appreciate his honesty and how he approaches teaching you the dances. Of course, Minghao is known for his no nonsense attitude when it comes to the line between idols and their fans. If there is one thing Minghao can’t stand, it’s how ridiculous some fans are when it comes to their delusions. Idols are humans too. Words can hurt. They can physically get hurt. Minghao holds that line firmly when he encounters anyone who throws hate or threatens physical harm at you for being the only female member. He won’t hesitate to lecture them and put them in their place. He’ll actually be even more blunt than before. You’re his friend and his fellow seventeen member. He’s not going to sit idly and let you get insulted. 
✧₊⁺ Mingyu
Overprotective brother mode activated. You can bet that this hyper puppy is just bouncing on his feet in excitement when you’re introduced to the group. As soon as introductions are out of the way, he appoints himself as your overprotective brother (regardless of your age). He’s soon sticking by your side during dance practice, vocal practice, and especially during the times when you’re both out in public. His happy-go-lucky nature makes it easy to get close to him. He’s also so protective over you that the guards don’t even have a job anymore. He’s not the most observant person but he’s so physically large that he’s become your personal bodyguard. He’s ready to step in as soon as he sees anything remotely dangerous come your way (even if it’s just Soonyoung running towards you). Besides that, he because you’re so close to him, he becomes your shoulder to cry on when you’re feeling down, overwhelmed by idol life and all the hate that comes with it. At some point, be prepared to be adopted by the entire 97’ line and all their extended friends.  
✧₊⁺ Seungkwan
Jeju hospitality mode activated. Boy is born to be a host and a tv star. Add that to his welcoming, warm, open personality, and he becomes a perfect guide for you. He takes it upon himself to try to explain every little detail about settling in with seventeen to you (though he just sulks when you smile sheepishly at him because Jeonghan already told you what he was trying to say). Still, you’re thankful for his efforts. Of course the rest of the members will never make fun of you for asking too many questions or wanting to reconfirm anything, but Seungkwan doesn’t hesitate to take the first step to ask you if you need any help. He senses when you’re struggling and will offer you help even before you need to open your mouth to ask. He’s probably one of the reasons why you were able to adjust to the group as quickly as you did. 
✧₊⁺ Vernon
Nonchalant mode activated. Honestly? He has his reservations, but that is to be expected with any big changes that happen to an idol group. There’s no reason to freak out over it especially since it’s been mandated by the company. He knows he can’t change anything so his way of dealing with it is simply just to accept the change, and you into the group. He takes the changes within his stride, making an effort to get to know you well. The more things he knows about you, the easier it is to work with you. It will be like back during the trainee days when male and female trainees sometimes worked together. His accepting attitude is welcoming and you’ll find yourself becoming fast friends with Vernon, with him becoming a close confidant for you because he never freaks out excessively in any situation. 
✧₊⁺ Dino 
Partner in crime mode activated. Dino is well loved although he is often the target of the rest of the members’ mischief. He always swears he is going to get back at the rest of the members for teasing him one day. But with you around? The only female member? He just knows that you’re going to be the best partner in crime. He will probably take on the responsibility of getting you acquainted with all their dances and the dance formations. While you’re at it, there’s nothing to say you can’t have a little fun. You’re both definitely going to be able to bond over the rest of the members’ insufferable teasings. Plus, when you both prank the rest of the members, you can use each other as an alibi. No one is ever going to blame the innocent maknae and the innocent female member. Right? 
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taglist: @weird-bookworm @wonijinjin @babyleostuff @wishing-fieshes @kwanienies @mayashu @megseungmin @porridgesblog @haecien @mirxzii @scoupsofcherries @eightlightstar @brownsugarbaybee @zaggprincess2 @nonononranghaee
682 notes · View notes
astonmartinii · 7 months
Text
head in the clouds | lando norris social media au
pairing: lando norris x fem flight attendant!reader
there's no one more attractive than the stranger at the same gate as you at the airport and sometimes that stranger works on your best friend's private jet.
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, danielricciardo and 3,105 others
yourusername: violently hungover, don't tell my boss x
view all comments
user1: i need to be her
maxverstappen1: your boss follows you on instagram genius
yourusername: oh yeah lol but i'm still alive and i was still on time
maxverstappen1: you took a nap on the flight?
yourusername: it was about ten billion hours long so spare me the lecture
maxverstappen1: you're so lucky we're friends otherwise i'd fire your ass
yourusername: you love me too much to do that maxy (and i know way too much about you) x
user2: how did you get this job?
yourusername: nepotism babes x
danielricciardo: i think you masked it pretty well for the first three hours
yourusername: THANK YOU
danielricciardo: but i did hear you throw up around hour four
yourusername: nothing like a tactical chunder on your childhood friend's private jet
landonorris: i for one couldn't tell you were hungover
yourusername: well look who's my new favourite, you should fly with max more often
danielricciardo: he's only saying that cause he has a crush, I'M STILL YOUR FAVOURITE
yourusername: whatever helps you sleep at night x
landonorris
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,034,566 others
tagged: danielricciardo
landonorris: reunited and it feels so good 😊
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user3: always obsessed with this pairing
user4: they're cute but i know they're so annoying to fly with
danielricciardo: i knew you missed me :)
landonorris: of course i did you big sap
danielricciardo: so you didn't replace me with a younger and sexier version of me?
landonorris: not technically no
oscarpiastri: i'm just gonna take the compliment, thanks dan :)
danielricciardo: massive compliment, i'm extremely sexy
user5: thank the lord daniel is back who was going to make lando blush all the time?
danielricciardo: believe me he doesn't need me to do that when he flies on air max that's all y/n
landonorris: DANIEL?
danielricciardo: she took these photos - look at the blush. LOOK AT THE MATERIAL
yourusername: i think i'm just a better photographer than you two combined so i just capture my subjects well
danielricciardo: nope. i think lando just has a BIG FAT CRUSH
maxverstappen1: LMAO
yourusername: who wouldn't? (i'm shaking)
user6: wtf is going on here?
user7: i think we're witnessing bullying
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maxverstappen1
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liked by landonorris, yourusername and 892,330 others
tagged: georgerussell63, alexalbon, landonorris & yourusername
maxverstappen1: getting some padel in on the weekend off
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user9: max really puts his hyperfixations above his beef because who thought we'd see him playing with george after baku
danielricciardo: how did lando get through a whole session with y/n there he can barely get through a sentence around her
landonorris: why are you so obsessed with exposing me in public
danielricciardo: funny.
yourusername: he did very well, he took a few balls to the face but he took them like a champ.
maxverstappen1: i'm sure he'd rather be the one putting balls in your face. get it? his balls? sex?
yourusername: i got it, you're not funny pal
maxverstappen1: well i think i'm hilarious so
user10: poor lando is going through the ringer rn
yourusername: whipped all of your asses call yourself professional athletes?
alexalbon: you were freakishly good what is your trick?
yourusername: only time i'm not playing padel is when i'm asleep or on a charter with max it's the only thing i can be better than him in
landonorris: you're definitely better looking than him and like 10 million times nicer than him
yourusername: you're not too bad yourself norris, you've just bagged yourself an extra bag of peanuts next flight x
alexalbon: romance is dead
f1wagsupdates
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liked by user11, user12 and 4,109 others
tagged: yourusername
f1wagsupdates: this is y/n y/ln potential new girlfriend of lando norris. she is a close friend of max verstappen, to the point that after she finished university and was without a job, he financed her education to be a air hostess, the job she now has on max's private jet. as far as we know she's never been in a public relationship but she also lives in monaco, is a padel enthusiast and has exchanged flirty comments with lando. also, she's a real one because she refuses to charter if jos wants to fly on air max - she slays for that one
view all comments
user13: if she's a longtime, potential childhood friend of max, the jos thing probably makes sense
user14: gosh she's so pretty
user15: giving your bestie a job and a life where you get to have her travel with you everywhere is really what nepotism should be
user16: for real where's my friend who will pay for me to learn to be a air hostess so we can hang out all the time
user17: i think her and lando would be cute
user18: and they would also make sense, they'd have a schedule that completely lines up and y/n would understand the sport and the lifestyle
user19: she also knows all of his friends already and they seem to get on with her
user20: "never been in a public relationship" she's just like us
user21: except she's gonna pull lando freaking norris and we're all still lonely
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, danielricciardo and 17,098 others
tagged: maxverstappen1
yourusername: THE way to spend your saturday, perks of the job x
view all comments
user22: hey siri play that should be me by justin bieber
maxverstappen1: glad you could take a break from being a tourist to actually come watch me
yourusername: lies i'm always there you just don't know because i sit in hospitality so i can drink ;)
maxverstappen1: is that why my mum looked so happy to see me after sitting with you in hospitality?
yourusername: NO! sophie just loves me
user23: omg y/n and sophie just chill in hospitality? i love them
landonorris: i heard mclaren have great hospitality and actually has a cup of tea with your name written all over it
yourusername: hmmm we'll see if it beats the team who broke the cost cap on catering but i'm willing to take that risk
landonorris: i promise it's worth your time
danielricciardo: @maxverstappen1 look he's finally making a move 👀
maxverstappen1: ugh finally !!!
yourusername: yall mind? ACTUALLY i'm not coming back to red bull you're annoying
user24: has the bullying worked ?
mclarenf1
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liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri and 1,093,455 others
tagged: landonorris
mclarenf1: lando is back on the podium with a p2 finish with oscar just behind in p4 congrats papaya boys!!
view all comments
user25: LET'S GOOOOOO THE WIN IS COMING I CAN FEEL IT
oscarpiastri: congrats lando :)
landonorris: your podium will come oscar you're killing it right now
user26: omg faves i can't wait until the double podium
user27: y/n in the likes ..... 🤔 makes you think
yourusername: idk what you conspiracy theorists want to hear but you don't need to know everything that happens in the drivers' personal lives and i can like posts of my friends doing well
user28: so you're not together
yourusername: you people have the reading comprehension skills of a rock
maxverstappen1: congrats mate, try not to get too drunk tonight, air max is scheduled early in the morning 👍
landonorris: i'll be there no worries
danielricciardo: of course he will, his favourite will be there
landonorris: laugh all you will but i have a pack of peanuts promised to me
yourusername: i'll put salt in their drinks don't worry lando
maxverstappen1: i have done nothing wrong?
yourusername: i am in solidarity with lando
maxverstappen1: i'm ur best friend?
yourusername: he's cute :)
user29: you can't tell she doesn't like him back
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danielricciardo
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 1,209,778 others
tagged: yourusername, landonorris
danielricciardo: podiums give you balls. balls get you girlfriends.
view all comments
user32: HOLYYYYYYYYYY SHIT
maxverstappen1: they are not awake yet lol they're going to kill you
danielricciardo: i'd like to see lando try. y/n i am afraid of though.
maxverstappen1: you should be, a girl once threw a drink over me in the club for walking into her and y/n went feral. i was afraid and impressed
yourusername: had to protect your virtue max
maxverstappen1: much appreciated, probably the only time i've been attracted to you
landonorris: AND THE LAST TIME
user33: considering their new relationship just got exposed, they're doing pretty well
yourusername: oh we're waiting until daniel is in an enclosed space where if he tries to escape we all die :)
landonorris: he's going to regret this before such a long flight, esp with a hungover y/n
danielricciardo: is it too late to say i love you guys?
yourusername: free enchante merch and i'll drop it
danielricciardo: done.
landonorris: Y/N???
yourusername: what were we really going to do? plus i've had a crush on you for so long people would definitely know by now if i wasn't dead in bed
landonorris: you had a crush? why was i the only one getting bullied?
maxverstappen1: please refer to my comment about the feral club night
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landonorris
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liked by danielricciardo, yourusername and 1,237,903 others
tagged: yourusername
landonorris: on a scale of 1 - 10 how annoyed would you be if someone joined a particular club on your private jet?
view all comments
user35: THE MILE HIGHER CLUB?
maxverstappen1: you're banned from the bathroom now, get a UTI i don't care do NOT shag on my plane
landonorris: so is that a 10 definietly not?
maxverstappen1: i will make sure you will never be able to use it again if you have sex on my plane with my best friend
landonorris: understood 😅
yourusername: i don't know how you did it but you made your first post about me even less romantic than dan's and his mentioned balls TWICE
landonorris: but i love you so that's all that counts right?
yourusername: i love you too but i also clean that plane so no one will shag on it or i'll scrap them
landonorris: i get the message no mile higher 😭
yourusername: but at least you get extra peanuts and the best pillow for life
landonorris: you spoil me too much
oscarpiastri: happy for you mate, it was painful watching you mope around the garage
yourusername: awww you moped ???? that's so cute
landonorris: i moped because i really liked you and daniel made it his mission to embarrass me constantly in front of you
yourusername: babe i've cleaned dan's sick off the floor of the jet nothing he could say could make me not like you
landonorris: thank the lord cause if i didn't ask you out i think i may have combusted
yourusername
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liked by landonorris, maxverstappen1 and 30,987 others
tagged: landonorris
yourusername: the 4am call times and mad max tantrums have all been worth it to meet you <3
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user36: god i have seen what you have done for others
maxverstappen1: now you're together i can say this, 1) i love you guys and i'm glad you're happy. 2) lando saw you once at a karting competition and had a crush ever since this was not new
landonorris: THAT WAS BETWEEN ME AND YOU
maxverstappen1: and he confessed that seeing you in your uniform is what finally pushed him over the edge
landonorris: STOP WHAT ARE YOU DOING
maxverstappen1: bro don't worry you guys are together, you're set for life
landonorris: thanks for having faith i guess?
maxverstappen1: BRO SHE IS SUPER DUPER IN LOVE WITH YOU
yourusername: he's not wrong
landonorris: hehehehehehehehe
oscarpiastri: he's literally sat in hospitality giggling and kicking his legs btw
landonorris: proudly so, my gf LOVES me
user37: lando got a gf before a win and i respect that
landonorris: i love you, can't wait for the rest of my life with you
yourusername: i can't wait, i'll even play golf with you x
danielricciardo: mate at least wait until the six month mark before you propose
landonorris: no promises x
note: hope you enjoyed, had this thought and i just had to do it. i'm working on requests and mamma mia p4!!
3K notes · View notes
marlenesluv · 7 months
Text
book lover. (LN)
summary: you’re a booktuber, always posting about your books, coffee, music, and of course, your amazing boyfriend, lando norris.
warnings: none!
note: i’ll probably write another book reader for daniel as well. (the polls were close and idk i think they’d both be cute.) also, another note, haley pham, sara carroli, and destiny sidwell are bookstagram/youtubers, so keep that in mind while reading. this is for my taylor swift and books lovers, cuz me too.
masterlist here -> masterlist link
^ check my list for all posts! ^
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liked by: landonorris, haleypham, and 246,275 others
y/n.user: “and it would’ve been sweet, if it could’ve been me”
view comments…
landonorris: are you breaking up with me????
|> y/n.user: HUH??
|> landonorris: the caption??????????
|> y/n.user: thats a taylor swift quote, lan. and it’s about the book i’m reading
|> landonorris: you NEED to update me on these posts before you post them
|> oscarpiastri: he was literally running around the paddock thinking you were mad at him
|> y/n.user: oh no, my baby 🙁🫶
haleypham: i cant wait for your new video :))
|> y/n.user: :))
|> booksfan: Y/N AND HALEY COLLAB????
georgerussell63: how on earth did you take a picture of your phone with your phone…
|> y/n.user: that’s not my phone….
|> georgerussel63: we’ll it isn’t landos?
|> y/n.user: i have other friends besides lando
|> landonorris: *boyfriend*
|> y/n.user: right, he’s also my only boyfriend
readerpop: live, laugh, love, y/n <3
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liked by: y/n.user, danielricciardo, and 346,015 others
landonorris: my little book worm🫠❤️
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danielricciardo: what book is she reading, lando?
|> landonorris: i think “the tales of the housewives”?
|> y/n.user: i’m reading THE HANDMAIDS TALE LANDO
|> landonorris: i was close
f1wagsupdates: OUR book worm, actually
landonorris.fanpage: they are too damn cute
carlossainz55: mate, i think she rather read than be with you rn😬
|> landonorris: she said she’s “escaping reality”
|> oscarpiastri: so “escaping you”
|> landonorris: what
|> y/n.user: THATS NOT TRUE, STOP STRESSING HIM OUT
formula1.fp: cutest f1 couple
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liked by: landonorris, des.sidster, and 251,947 others
tagged: haleypham
y/n.user: new video out with haley!! we read, drank wine, played uno, and suffered listening to lando and ryan talk about football🙁
view comments…
haleypham: literally, suffered. but at least we got reading time
|> y/n.user: so true
f1.edits: am i obsessed with the fact that y/n gives us lando snippets? yes, yes i am
|> y/n.fans: just wait, she said a while ago that she’s posting a video from game night with the grid
|> y/n.fp: is that even still happening??
|> y/n.user: mwahahaha, soon
|> y/n.fp: i think i j shit my pants omg
landonorris: everyone go watch my girlfriends new video!! she’s so pretty and cool and awesome and sexy and funny and adorable and etc
|> charles_leclerc: there isn’t a better promotion for this video
|> y/n.user: thanks lando! my boyfriend is also so pretty and cool and awesome and sexy and funny and adorable and etc!
|> landonorris: you think i’m pretty?🥹
|> y/n.user: my pretty boy
|> landonorris: ive passed out
|> maxfewtrell: YOU BROKE MY BSF
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liked by: y/n.user, carlossainz55, and 401,284 others
landonorris: date nights consist of book shopping, reading, and y/n taking pictures of me in a golf cart!
view comments…
y/n.user: good thing you’re the photographer in this relationship
|> landonorris: and you can read enough for the both of us
f1wags: cuties are being cuties
bookstagram.edits: so y/n has GOOD book taste, i see
alex_albon: i think y/n has an eye with the camera
|> landonorris: don’t lie, alex
|> lilymhe: at least y/n can read
|> y/n.user: GO OFF QUEEN LILY✊
formula1updates: pls pls why are they so sweet, WHY AM I SINGLE
carlossainz55: how did you manage to get a girlfriend who reads and deals with you
|> y/n.user: he offered to buy me books, so i give him gf content
|> carlossainz55: ah yes, this makes sense
|> landonorris: thats not funny
|> y/n.user: hehe
|> landonorris: let’s see how “hehe” that is when i don’t cuddle you tonight and throw ur books away
|> y/n.user: NO MY BOOKS
|> carlossainz55: AHHHAHAHA MATE OMG
|> landonorris:…..cuddles……
|> y/n.user: I MEAN- OH NO I NEED MY CUDDLES
f1xupdate: omg the comments HELP
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y/n’s instagram story:
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seen by: landonorris, maxverstappen1, and 324,048 others
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liked by: landonorris, saracarrolli, and 399,824 others
y/n.user: “he was sunshine, i was midnight rain” (lando its just a t.s. song lyric i love you.)
view comments…
landonorris: i love you more☺️
taylorswift: you guys are adorable! i wish you nothing but happiness and love <3
|> y/n.user: TAYLOR!? OMG YAYWBFLWNR KENT FI CSMT OWKFKS HELP DIDKSD OMGBRODK
|> pierregasly: uh oh, taylor broke y/n….
|> des.sidster: OMG Y/N TAYLOR AHHHHHHHH
|> y/n.user: IK AHHHHHH WKEKDOSK IABRFKDJE
|> maxverstappen1: lando. your girlfriend is glitching
|> landonorris: she’s sobbing in my arms, she’s more than glitching, mate
f1.edits: i am LIVING for taylor being here
y/nxlando.fans: where did taylor, mother, come from?
y/n.user: GUYS TAYLOR FOLLOWED ME. TAYLOR ILY AND I HATE JAKE GRRRR JAKE
|> arthur_leclerc: GRRR?????
|> olliebearman: i get it
_______________________________________________
(reposts, comments, and likes are appreciated!^-^)
2K notes · View notes
luveline · 7 months
Note
whenever youre free!! can you please write a spencer x reader where we meet spencer during an early season where he’s still cute and awkward maybe we date too but something happens and we don’t see him for a long time only to meet him again when he’s older and hotter (post prison) and there’s still crazy tension after all those years. in love with your writing btw!!! ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥
tysm for requesting! hope this is ok :D ♡ 1.2k
cw vaguely suggestive theme
Looking at Spencer, you could almost think you were fresh out of college again, unsure of yourself and in need of a friend. 
He'd been much more than a friend. It's why you're here. 
The cake might have been a bad idea. You hold it between two hands, the subtle smell of chocolate rising from the box's ill-fitting lid. Your breath catches, words coming out wonky, "Hey. Spencer?" 
He looks up from his book, startled at being found, you think. "Y/N?" 
He looks the same. 
Obviously, he's older. He has facial hair and his curls are styled rather than having been left to their own devices, but you feel as hopelessly enamoured with him as you had years ago, because he still smiles like a puppy dog.
You're twice as surprised as he is when he stands from his coffee table to hug you. The cake box wobbles in your hands as he squeezes you, swaying you from side to side, his laugh warm in your ear. 
"What are you doing back here?" he asks, diving backward to see your face. "I didn't think I'd ever see you again." 
"I still had JJ's number, you know, from when I wanted that address, and she texted me to say you'd been released, and I," —your voice curls tighter, are you talking too much?— "know you might not want to hear from me, but I was worried about you. You were my best friend." 
His smile flickers. You press the cake into his hands. 
"That's for you," you say. 
Spencer's wavering smile turns to the box. He sets it down on the table beside his coffee cup and tented book, removing the lid carefully. You remember suddenly how nice his hands are, and the tracing of his fingertips down your bare shoulders. Goosebumps erupt along the ghost of his touch. 
"Well done on not being a criminal," he reads, snorting. "Funny. Little too soon." 
You feel like your stomach's fallen out, but he drops the act with another laugh. 
"Oh, you're still a jerk," you say. "I'm glad something hasn't changed." 
"You think I've changed?" he asks. 
"You didn't get any taller, if that's what you're asking." 
Spencer's smile turns fond. It's the sweet, sticky smile he'd always give you before he'd tell you he loved you, or that you were the best best friend ever. Or that last night, when you followed him hand in hand down the long hallway to his bedroom. 
"I wasn't that much of a jerk, was I?" he asks. 
"No, you weren't." You hold your hands behind your back. "Could I join you? Just for a bit?" 
"You brought me a cake. I can't say no, can I? Of course you can sit down. I'll get you a coffee, okay?" 
He touches his hand to your arm as he passes. You sit down in the seat across from him, sick with what-if and should-have. What if I could've stayed? Maybe I should have done more. But when Spencer ignored the letters you sent him while he was incarcerated, you figured you'd done more than he wanted. The cake was a last ditch effort, spurred on by JJ's text that read, I think he'd be really happy to see you. 
Spencer puts a china cup down in front of you. You take a sip, muscle memory, and grin at him shyly as he slides into the seat across from you. "You remembered." 
"I remember everything." 
"Right. Your photographic memory." 
"Eidetic, and sure, but I wouldn't forget about you." He reads your shyness for what it is, worry you've overstepped. He's too perceptive to trick. "I think I tried, but… I have so many bad memories, I wanted the good ones to keep." 
You can't imagine the things he experienced in prison. JJ couldn't tell you much. You knew from how you had to address his letters alone that he was sent to a general correctional facility in Mexico, rather than the protective custody he'd needed. He doesn't look terrible considering, but you've barely seen him since you had to leave. He's aged well. The only worry is his dark under eyes. 
"We had a good time," you say gently. "I knew you'd need that. That's why I sent you all those letters, you know? I wasn't trying to come back into your life, I know I don't deserve it after I left, but I couldn't stop thinking about you by yourself." 
You stare at his book. 
"How many letters did you send?" he asks. 
"I don't really remember." 
"I didn't get one." He grimaces. "I didn't get any from my mom, either. Think it was a coincidence?" 
Spencer's time in was kind of sick. He stabbed himself, made friends with criminals, played a lot of chess, and learned how to make tacos in a doritos bag. It was also arguably the loneliest and most degrading time of his life. 
One coffee becomes two, two becomes a third to go. You feel a hundred emotions but there's one that stands out the most as you drift around Pentagon City with him —wanting. You want him to be your best friend again, to rub your back and hold you when you're tired, to take you grocery shopping in his beat up P130. You want him to kiss you like he had, like he was searching for something, but he's changed so much that you don't know if your Spencer is still in there, under everything, or if he'd even want to.
"You live in the same apartment?" you ask. 
"Can you imagine how much it would cost me to move that many books? Paying the rent turns out cheaper," he says, the two of you walking in the grey street. "What about you? You didn't come all the way here to see me." 
"I actually did." You rub up the length of your upper arm, sheepish. "I did, Spencer." 
For a while, all you can hear is the plastic rustling of the bag held in his hand. 
"Thank you for writing to me. I didn't get to read them, but it makes a difference." 
You lift your head to meet his eyes. He holds your gaze, a charge behind his dark brown eyes. You used to think his irises and his pupils were one and the same, but you can see now that there are flecks of light in his irises. His hedging of thick lashes kiss in the corners as he slowly, slowly smiles. 
You glare at him. "Don't." 
"Don't what?" 
"You know what. You're doing that thing. Pretending you're not trying to make me nervous." 
"I'm not doing that. Flustered, but not nervous." Is he smirking?
"Flustered," you repeat, your smile stupidly big now, cheeks aching. "Yeah, right, Reid."
His pinky brushes yours. You don't have any proof that he's doing it purposefully, but he is. 
"Do you want to get something to eat? You can tell me what you were writing in your letters. I'd really, really like to know." His voice is threaded with a familiar timidity for the first time since you reunited. 
There you are, you think happily. "Sure. You buy me a sticky bun from our old place and I'll tell you all my written secrets." 
"Deal." 
1K notes · View notes
ghost-proofbaby · 9 months
Text
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twenty four hours (modern eddie munson x fem!reader)
HOUR TWENTY ONE
in which you try everything you can to make eddie feel better after his encounter with chrissy - to make him forget, to make him feel cherished, to make him feel worthy.
→ tropes: enemies to lovers, forced proximity, slow burn
→ warnings: strong language, a single use of Y/N, smut (p in v), oral (m receiving), voyeurism, edging, good old fashioned ball worship if you squint, maybe some sub!eddie if you squint even harder, upside down does not exist, minors dni
→ wc: 7.3k+
→ a/n: shout out to @hellfire--cult for the balcony idea. i knew i'd get them there at some point, little freaks. and everyone say thank you to @icallhimjoey for the early post 😏
masterlist.
spotify playlist.
◁ previous part, next part▷
21:00 ─────────────ㅇ── 24:00
HOUR TWENTY ONE - 12:00 PM
STEVE-O: why do you guys suck so much at providing photographic proof of being alive? seriously
You’ve been staring at Steve’s text ever since the two of you arrived back at the apartment. You’d reply soon enough, but for now, the message was a distraction.
Eddie wasn’t speaking to you.
Not in a brooding sense, but in a way that let you know he was too far gone in his own head right now for you to reach him. When you’d said those words to him, when you’d admitted that you found him worth it, you saw his eyes glaze over slowly. You’d watched in real time as he slipped away from you. It might be that he doesn’t believe you, it might be guilt that continues to gnaw at him for a past that can’t be changed — whatever it is, you hate it.
The easy solution would be to send Steve the photos from the cafe, but you’d already tried that. Your thumb had hovered over that photo of Eddie with a mouthful of croissant, still bright and brilliant before all his waves of self-hatred had gotten ahold of him, and you just couldn’t. It was selfish, it was ridiculous, but you couldn’t share that piece of him with others. Some small, childish, hopeless bit of you needed to cling to the man in that photo and keep him safely inside your chest. It wasn’t a new version to your friends, they’ve always tried to defend Eddie and convince you he wasn’t all bad, but it was new to you. It was all so unexpected and unforeseen, the look behind his golden eyes as he seemingly looked right past the camera and right into you. 
No, you couldn’t send that photo. It was for your eyes only. A souvenir you had greedily stolen. 
Eddie had excused himself to the bathroom when you two arrived at the apartment, and this time, there was no dirty intentions behind it. You left well enough alone — he needed a moment to be by himself and that was fine. You could entertain yourself until he was ready to come back to you, back down to Earth. Right now, you were currently picking apart an almond croissant as if it were the most interesting thing you’d ever laid eyes on. 
Croissant dissection — see? You absolutely could distract yourself in order to give him space. Absolutely no sarcasm there.
You finally sigh when you see a message bubble pop up with three little dots, signifying Steve is typing again. You don’t give him the time to properly finish out his message before you click on your camera icon, snap a shot of the picked apart croissant in front of you, and send a message with the image attached.
YOU: we were eating breakfast, eddie’s been in the bathroom. happy, mom?
STEVE-O: he’s been in the bathroom for an entire hour? 
YOU: oh, you know how you men get with toilet time. 
Despite the playful tone of your texts, your face is completely flat, chest still heavy as you think about Eddie behind the wooden door. Should you be giving Eddie this amount of space? What if it’s doing more damage than good?
You’re about to stand from the stool you’ve occupied for nearly ten minutes now and go try your hand at knocking, try and remind Eddie that you’re still here, when Steve’s next text comes through. 
STEVE-O: stop bullshitting me. what happened? 
You swear you taste metallic blood from how hard you bite down on your bottom lip, staring at the mocking message. You can’t even begin to explain to Steve what has transpired, not just this last hour, but the entirety of the time. The parking garage, the joking marriage, Chrissy showing up, Eddie’s painful vulnerability – you can’t find the words to tell him about any of it. The same as you can’t find it in you to send the photo of Eddie in Betty’s. 
YOU: nothing happened. do you need any more proof than that?
He only reacts to your message with a thumbs up. You assume that means you’re in the clear, for now. 
When you exit your thread of messages with Steve, a new thread that has been started catches your eye. It’s a new number, no contact on it. The only message sent is from you – the photo of you with your coffee, head thrown back and eyes shut with a wide smile boosting your cheeks. 
Eddie’s phone number. 
You look at the photo of yourself for a while, trying to not cringe at your appearance. To you, you just looked ridiculous. You don’t understand why Eddie wanted this photo preserved so badly. Your smile is too wide, your eyes are mere slits from the way your cheeks were squishing up with joy, most of your makeup you’d started the night with has long since faded due to a multitude of activities. You don’t feel like anything special in this photo.
But Eddie had wanted it. He had deemed this moment in time of you as picture-worthy, had gone so far as to send it to himself so that he’d have this memory even if you deleted it from your phone. 
Before you think too hard on it, you tap on that line of numbers and add a proper contact profile to it. 
EDDIE. You keep the contact name simple, eager to get it out of the way as you move onto the next step. A contact photo. You don’t even have to ponder on it – in a flash, you’ve selected the picture of him with the croissant. 
You’re back on the thread of messages – or, at least, the singular message – and don’t stop yourself as your thumbs begin to fly over your keyboard.
YOU: why were the almond croissants almost sold out? 
To be fair, you didn’t even know if Eddie had his phone on him. That green message stares back at you for a few moments before you get your answer. 
EDDIE: Excuse me? 
He has his phone. You lift your head, looking at the closed door of the bathroom before glancing back down at your phone. 
YOU: because everyone went NUTS over them. 
You perk your ears and listen for any sign of life from down the hall. Anything. A scoff, a pitiful laugh, him calling you stupid aloud. You’ll take whatever he offers. 
It takes a moment, and you truly have to strain to hear it, but you can hear the laugh that would better pass as a sigh. 
EDDIE: Is that supposed to be a joke? 
YOU: ‘supposed to be’. excuse me, it was definitely a joke. and a very good one, at that. 
EDDIE: Debatable. 
You find yourself smiling down at the phone. Your neck aches from the way you keep glancing up suddenly at the door, silently pleading for him to come back out. To come out and fight with you, come out and bicker with you, come out and ignore you. Anything, for him to leave the bathroom and do anything but keep that door shut between you two. 
He doesn’t, so you send another bad joke. 
YOU: what did the customer say when they looked at the croissant? 
This time, he plays along. 
EDDIE: I don't know, what? 
YOU: what a BREADtaking sight. 
This time, you hear a more proper scoff come from within the bathroom. 
YOU: i heard that. don’t even try to tell me it wasn’t funny. 
EDDIE: I’m not laughing because they’re funny. I’m laughing because they’re BAD. 
YOU: bet you wouldn’t say that to my face. 
Immediately, you discard the phone, facedown on the counter as you look up to the door with unbridled hope. He could always ignore the comment, choose to not respond and continue to sulk away from you. It’s entirely possible – but you pray to every star in the sky that that isn’t what he’s going to do. 
Please come back out. Please, even if just to sit in silence with me. 
Your prayers are answered.
Slowly, painfully slowly, you hear shuffling on the other side of the door and await for the click of the door unlocking. It never comes, though – the door was never locked in the first place. He opens it, and you realize that the entire time, you could have stormed into the small room with him and demanded that he not hide away.
But you didn’t. You gave him space, gave him patience, and it’s clear he knows this as he comes out. 
His eyes are red. As if he’s been crying. 
“Hi,” you meekly say, taking in his face past those red-rimmed eyes. The tip of his nose is a fading shade of pink, as if he’s been rubbing it incessantly, and he sniffs for good measure as he turns the bathroom light off and walks to where you are. 
“Hi,” his voice is rough around the edges as he greets you back. He won’t look you in the eye once he’s within reach – his gaze remains downcast, and you catch him fiddling with a few of his rings. 
You hadn’t considered what you would do if you got this far. In every carefully considered scenario, you’d assumed he’d shut you out. You never expected him to come straight to you, as if seeking out comfort from you, without you having to beg it of him. 
His eyes catch the croissants on the counter, torn apart and lazily picked at. He’s about to open his mouth and say something about it, probably questioning what you had done to the poor pastry, but you don’t give him a chance. You’re quick to snatch up one of the pieces you’d been picking apart to snack on for yourself and hold it out to him. An olive branch, an offering – a reason for him to sit and stay for a while with you. 
He takes it tentatively, finally looking you in your eye again as he takes a small bite. It’s nothing compared to the bite he had taken when you’d snapped the photo of him, mere crumbs compared to that mouthful. 
“Did you just… massacre our croissants?” he questions, squinting his eyes down at the crime scene. 
You shift your body jokingly, failing at blocking him from seeing the mess you made, “Absolutely not. I have no clue what you’re talking about.” 
He almost cracks a grin, “Right. Of course. I must be imagining things.” 
“Wanna hear another pun?” you blurt out, suddenly nervous as he continues to stand before you. You hate the incessant need inside of your chest that calls for you to comfort him, to make this all better for him. 
“I feel like you’ll tell me one even if I say no,” he raises an eyebrow at you, “So, sure.” 
“Why did the croissant go to the doctor?”
He hums, trying to peer over your shoulder again at the croissants you were badly hiding, “Let me guess. Is it because you tore it apart mercilessly?” 
“No,” you scoff, reaching behind you to grab another piece to offer to him as well as one of your own, “It was because he was feeling crummy, dumb ass.” 
A crack of a smile. It’s miniscule but there. It makes that terrible pun worth it, just to see him not looking quite as defeated is worth all the stars in the sky at this point for you. 
You’d certainly been the reason for his unhappiness in the past, and you surely would be again at some point. It all feels so inevitable; just as he believes that he can only bring you misery, you can’t imagine yourself bringing him joy. A belief that strikes something in your chest, something albeit more painful than you’d care to admit, but it’s true. You’ve crossed a line, you’ve changed everything, but the past still remains. 
You aren’t perfect. Neither is Eddie.
Heartbreak is imminent, but for this brief moment, you can make him smile. You don’t need to worry about the next time you’ll piss him off or upset him, you just need to focus on making that twitch on his lips more permanent. 
“I meant what I said earlier, by the way,” you decide to rip off the bandaid as he moves as if to sit beside you. Quickly, your words make him freeze. A bad sign, but you push through, because he needs to hear these things, “You deserve good things, Eddie. Good people, good things- you just… you deserve those things in your life.” 
“I don’t.”
“You do.”
He’s turning away from you. Turning and heading to the living room, walking away from you.
You don’t let him. In an instant, you get onto your feet and follow him, continuing despite him acting as if he’s finished with the conversation. You’re not.
“You’re a good person, Eddie,” you insist, reaching out for him before he makes it to the couch, “Don’t walk away from me.”
He spins easily in your grip. “Just because you say something, doesn’t make it true, sweetheart.”
He’s back to saying it like a curse. Like it’s a harmful title. As if it’s not a privilege to you and all your metaphors to hear that nickname fall from his lips. 
Right before your eyes, his defenses are on the rise. Brick by brick, he’s slowly reforming those walls to separate the two of you. Instead of defeat, instead of acceptance, it just makes you angry.
“Stop doing that,” you say quietly, carefully, firmly.
“Stop doing what?”
“That. Pushing me away. Locking me out,”  you tighten your hand on his bicep and watch the way his nostrils flare, “I fucking hate it.”
“Despite what you believe,” he takes a step closer to you, “Not everything I do is meant to piss you off.” 
“That’s not what I’m saying, and we both know it,” you can feel his muscles tense beneath your touch.
This time, his smile that emerges is cold. But you can still see the rubbage left by his tears — pink water lines and a new puffiness around his eyes. His words and his sudden cool demeanor can’t hurt you when you see it for what it is.
“Clearly we both don’t know it,” he chastised you, “We are very rarely on the same page. This isn’t a damn exception. You don’t have to prove your point, it doesn’t matter.”
He’s a wounded animal, striking out. He’s letting Chrissy’s words get to him.
“You’re worth i-“
“Don’t,” One of his hands shoot out to grip your waist, “Don’t fucking say that. Please. Don’t say it if you don’t mean it.” 
He didn’t believe you. 
“I meant it,” you whisper, anger shaking out of your grasp inch by inch as you realize that your words can’t break through to him, “I mean it. You’re worth it, to me, to St-“
“This isn’t about Steve,” he cuts you off, “It’s not about Steve, or Nancy, or Robin, or fucking Argyle. No need to play dumb anymore.” 
It’s about you.
You both know it. For once, contradictory to what he’d just claimed, you’re both on the same page. And like he said, no need to play dumb. 
“You’re worth it to me,” you say it with more confidence this time, “You’re a good person to me.” 
“How can you say that?” he laughs out, void of amusement, “How can you say shit like that after everything we’ve been through?”
How can you not?
You only squeeze his bicep tighter, and he returns the action by gripping your hip harsher. “Because I mean it. I believe it. Whether you do or not.” 
For a moment, the cracks in his armor expose themselves. 
“You shouldn’t,” his voice should waver, “You shouldn’t believe those things, Y/N. You should hate me.” 
“But I don’t,” And I never did.
“But you don’t,” he echoes.
You’ve done the opposite of what you had wanted. His smile is gone, that sadness creeping back up. You hate that. You don’t hate him — you hate that world of mourning behind his eyes, that defeat that brings his shoulders down and makes his grip on you falter. So you do the only thing you can think of to distract him. Make him forget.
“Make me hate you.” 
His eyes widen briefly, “Excuse me?”
“Make me hate you,” you practically beg of him, “Show me why you’re such a bad person and I’ll let this go. I’ll drop the conversation, we can- Fuck, we can forget this entire morning happened. Make me hate you, Eddie, and I’ll stop reminding you that I don’t.” 
His fingers curl back into you, slowly and gently, as his brows furrow. He’s considering what you’ve just said — more than that, you can see him trying to untangle all the hidden meanings behind it.
“And how do you suggest I do that?” his voice is low and calculated. 
You shrug, stepping forward, letting your lips get even closer to his, “Not my problem. Just make me.” 
The fingers are no longer gentle as he pulls you into him, finally catching onto the emphasis you place on those two little words.
Make me.
When his lips meet yours, they’re rough and brutal, taking greedily what they want from you. The only thing on your mind is making him forget. Make him forget, carry the load for him — they’re both more important than making him smile for now. Both these driving needs burn brighter in your chest because it’s clear that’s what he needs. 
You’re willing to give him whatever he needs right now.
“You want me to make you hate me, baby?” he mumbled against your lip, practically drinking in the way you gasp as he starts to pull back, “Is that really what you want?”
It’s what you want. “Yes.” 
And maybe you do too, when he leans back in to bite your lip. There will be another time for you to convince him with words that you find him to be worth it. Both hands from wrap around you and rough start to guide you back towards that fucking couch.
“Not the couch,” you suddenly protest, digging your heels into the carpet at the center of his living room, “Anywhere but the couch.” 
And oh, the way he’s looking at you in that moment might be your new favorite thing. Your new favorite color is his eyes as they sparkle with a bit of life that had been missing since the coffee shops encounter. Your new favorite sound is the silence that encases the little breath he lets out. Your new favorite movie is watching him move in slow motion as his eyes dart behind you, towards the door to his balcony, before his lips finally curl up with a hint of the genuine warmth that had been hidden behind his walls.
“Anywhere?” he teases, beginning to walk you backwards.
You nod, grinning right back at him.
“I think I have an idea.” 
If you had known twenty one hours ago that Eddie Munson, your sworn enemy, would have you out on his public balcony and on your knees for him in only a matter of time, past you would have….
Well, you don’t really care what past you would have done or thought anymore. You’re making him forget, yes, all while making yourself forget. You don’t care what you, twenty one hours ago, would or wouldn’t do as you let the past slip through your fingers so eagerly. All you can focus on is the dig of concrete against your knees, the way Eddie’s hands grip the railing as he leans against it, and the way the early afternoon sun forms a halo around him as you look up through fluttering lashes.
You just want to make him feel good. Every action is intentional, doing everything in your power to erase whatever storming thoughts had been haunting him so cruelly since Chrissy had so carelessly said what she had. You want to make him feel worthy. You want to make him feel loved.
Loved. You certainly didn’t love him — you couldn’t possibly, could you? He wouldn’t let you. You wouldn’t let yourself. But for now, you could play pretend; you could worship his body, drag his shirt out of the way and place playful kisses across his hips, and you could pretend that only this moment exists. 
“You wanna know what makes me such a bad person?” he sighs out as you let your teeth graze his skin, shoulders rolling to shake off that shiver you elicit from him, “This. The fact that this is all I can fucking think about.”
“Hm,” you can only hum in response, nails taking over the denim of the jeans he currently wore. You walk your fingers up his thighs, moving closer and closer to his zipper. Your mouth is nearly watering at the prospect of worshiping him. 
And the fact that any neighbor could walk out at any given moment and catch the two of you. You should probably insist on it being fast, on him being quiet, but the thought sends a thrill through the pit of your stomach. Your thighs clench and your cunt aches at the thought of being caught. 
You want to do more than make him bite back mere moans of your name. You want to make him scream.
Suddenly, a hand tangles into the roots of your hair, pulling back and making you focus on him again.
“Eyes on me,” he instructs. Once you focus on him and only him, he continues, loosening his grip and letting those fingertips rub at your scalp soothingly, “You know why you should hate me? For all the nights I pictured this.”
“Yeah?” you smile innocently, playing along. He can talk all he wants, you know once you get your mouth on him, he’ll be lucky to remember his own name. “How many nights, hm? Tell me all about them, pretty boy.”
You catch the wobble in his knees, the way his breathing picks up, the brilliant shade of ivory his knuckles stretch to. You lean back on your haunches, and the hand in your hair slips as he glowers down at you. 
“What are you-”
“Take off your shirt,” you calmly command.
“Excuse me?” 
“Your shirt. I want it off.”
His hand that was once tangled against your scalp now comes down to your face, movement slow but not hesitant as he pinches your chin. His thumb tugs on your bottom lip, and you let out, even making a show of letting your tongue peek out to tap at it. “And who said you were calling the shots?” 
“I did,” you put it simply, completely removing your hands from him now, “Take off the shirt, or I’ll leave you out here with blue balls.” 
You close your lips around the end of his thumb and his knuckles dig in deeper to the skin below your chin as you suck subtly. He chuckles, but you can hear just how breathless he goes at the small action, even as he keeps up the act with a hard press of his thumb on your lower lip. Your mouth hangs open for him, waiting patiently for his next move. 
A game of chess, an exchange of power, a fight for dominance. All the lines of who is and isn’t in control are blurred. 
“Have you always been so mean, baby?” he taunts, trailing what spit you’d left behind on his thumb along your lip. 
His movement stops when your lips spread into a provocative smile, “I learned from the best, didn’t I?” 
The retort had potential to backfire. You wait for smoke and glory, for him to pull away from you further. He’d slam down a brick right in front of your face, lay the mortar to leave you high and dry. He’d push you away, and you’d have to retreat, tail tucked between your legs in the shame of trying when it came to him. 
No smoke, no glory. He secedes, but makes no move to add to his walls, only removing his hand from your face and taking off the shirt. Just as you had told him to. 
“Better?” he asks as he makes a show of tossing the shirt to the other side of the balcony. It could have even flown over the railing, for all you paid attention to the scrap of clothing. Maybe some innocent bystander is on the streets below, confused to all Hell as to why it’s raining obscure band t-shirts. 
You’re just a bit too distracted to consider that right now. 
With Eddie’s torso revealed, all words seem to evade you. You catch the sweat beginning to gather across his sternum, watching the way he’s flushing beneath your gaze, reveling in the pink chest exposed to you as the blush crawls wider. Instantly, your original purpose is forgotten, the primal urge to pepper kisses and bites alike across his skin almost lifting you up off your sore knees. You want to leave bruises – you want to make him scream, you want to mark him up, you want to make him feel worthy. 
You stay on your knees, but compromise with all your wants as you lift up and stretch a bit. Your lips start their trail a bit lower than you (or Eddie) would have liked, taking their time to get familiar with the spanse of his rib cage first. You don’t nip with teeth, not yet. Just chaste kisses, lining each bone you can hardly feel residing beneath the skin, feeling his lungs expanding against your affection. Your tongue swipes alongside one of his side tattoos, a large and detailed dragon you hadn’t paid much mind to before. Every time you’d seen him shirtless, you’d been a bit distracted.
Not now. Now, you’re focused, determined to learn every curve and dip there is to explore on Eddie. You want to know him better than the back of your hands, memorize him more intricately than your own palms. After all, in order to worship a deity, you must know them. 
You return back to the center line of his abdomen, kisses chasing after one another, even taking the time to suck his skin between your teeth but never bite down. You pause once your lips rest right beneath his navel, the tip of your nose brushing that rough patch of hair that leads down to your end destination. Your hands reach for his belt, toying with the buckle.
Through heavy lashes, you look up at him, staring down at you in awe, “You know, you’re not doing a very good job at making me hate you, pretty boy. Think I might just have to worship you instead.”
A deity of your own making. A deity for your own taking. 
With skill, your hands undo the buckle effortlessly. You unbutton and unzip his jeans as if you’ve done this part a million times, as if you’d spent every single Sunday of the last year right here and doing exactly this. On your knees, worshiping him. This balcony, for all its exposure, certainly knows how to serve as a holy place. 
He opens his mouth to respond, but you’re impatient. You still haven’t left him speechless, meaning you still hadn’t made your point, clearly. 
His jeans hang loosely as they creep down his thighs, abandoned for a moment as you occupy your mouth against his hips. The hips you once thought would look so pretty properly decorated. You decide you were wrong – they don’t need ink burying into the skin, they need your teeth digging in. 
You cover that skin with mirroring images of bursts of purple and pink, flowering bruises that you take your time to mark onto him. With each suck and bite, Eddie rolls his hips into you, head leaned back and throat straining with each moan he swallows down. 
With the last hickey finished, you finally lean back, proud of your masterpiece as Eddie whimpers above you. Blooms in the shape of your lips mingle with faint and quickly fading teeth marks. 
“Fuck,” he gasps out when your fingertip stops trailing over your markings and comes down to apply the softest pressure over the straining bulge in his boxers. 
“What was it that you said earlier?” your finger traces over where you know a vein is – you know it because you’ve felt it, been driven insane by it – before circling around the wet patch now forming. He’s desperate, hips bucking again and a moan finally escaping. You think he’s bitten his lips hard enough in an attempt at self-restraint that they might be bleeding, “You said I’m not calling the shots, right?” 
“You’re not,” he pathetically grits out, hands forming tighter fists on metal railing, as if the moment he lets go of it they’ll find their way home to you. 
You lean forward, breath washing over his crotch before you place a feathery kiss to his clothed tip, “I’m not?” 
You are. You both know you are. A constant battle of control, an ever-growing fight for dominance. 
He lets out something crossed between a sigh of relief and a whine of protest when you remove your lips and hand from him completely, only to let out a sharp yelp when your finger curls into the waistband of his boxers and pulls back the elastic, letting it snap back into place sharply. 
“Say I am,” you barter, “Say I’m in control right now, and I’ll put my money where my mouth is.” 
You don’t expect him to break so easily. You’ve underestimated just how tightly you’ve caught him beneath your thumb.
“You’re in control,” he gasps out, head hanging low to meet your gaze fully, “You’re in complete and utter fucking control of me. You’re calling all the shots, baby. You always are.” 
He didn’t have to sweeten it up with baby, but it spurs you on. 
You shove his boxers down, watching his cock spring out for the taking. And you do as you promised; you put your money where your mouth is.
You start softly, taking your time as you gingerly suck on his pretty pink tip as you had his thumb. Hardly hollowing your cheeks, letting your tongue circle his slit to gather up the precum. You let the taste of him completely cover your tongue, even hum in satisfaction when he lets out a loud groan. It motivates you, feeds your fervor as you let his tip fall from your mouth and trail the tip of your tongue down the underside of his cock. That vein you’d traced with your fingertip, yours for the taking, covered in a faint line of saliva as you let it rest on your forehead and graze your lips against his ballsack. 
He can’t hide his shiver, even as his fist flies to his mouth to bite down on. 
“Have I ever told you how cute you are?” you say low enough for just him. You can hear the sounds of traffic, a dog barking, birds singing — all reminders of the outside world and the looming threat of being caught. Warmth floods you again at the reminder of that threat, thighs clenching closer together in a desperate search of friction, “Just falling apart for me, acting so tough for so long until I got you alone.” 
He whimpers your name. It’s the prettiest sound you’ve ever heard.
You wrap your lips around the sensitive skin, sucking and pecking away on one side before moving to the next. His reaction throttles your movements. When his hand loses the fight of resistance, coming down to the back of your head, you laugh breathlessly against the now wet skin. 
“Let me make you feel just how worthy you are to me,” you praise, pulling back finally, letting your nose brush against his sack as you do so. The hand that was once merely resting now tangles up in your hair — a warning. 
You let the velvet skin of his cock drag down your cheek as each movement is deliberate, taking your time and in no rush. You want to savor him like this. Imprint him to memory. 
You want to make him forget while making yourself remember. 
You want to remember the way his hand flexes at the base of your skull when you finally kiss his tip once more, remember the way his abdomen tenses as you sink him further into your mouth. You want to remember every little sound that escapes him as he hits the back of your throat, as you constrict around him, as you moan around his base and the vibrations have him slipping out of control. 
Your nails dig into his thighs to balance yourself, eyes watering as you look up at him. One subtle nod. He doesn’t need more than that.
Your jaw goes slack, trying to steady your breathing through your nose as you let him take control. His hips thrust at their own pace, gentle enough that he only grazes the back of your throat rather than bruise it. The issue is you want him to bruise it. You want him to mark you from the inside out. Until there’s no part of you left untouched by him. 
You gag again, and he slows. Your fingers that grip his thighs immediately tap against him, and he mistakes it as a signal to pull back completely before you chase after him, pressing him onto your tongue until your lips are snug around his cock a mere inch from the base. Your nose is grazing those pubes in the dead center of all your love marks. Shapes of semi-permanent scars that whisper, you’re worth it to me. I want this. I want you. 
The last thing on his mind was Chrissy Cunningham and her words alluding to him not being worth it. 
You make sure of it when you finally release him from your mouth and begin to pump with an eager fist, ducking down and returning to pay attention to his balls once more. You nuzzle the soft skin, let the tips of your canines graze them before you suck them onto your tongue as you’d done his cock. He’s no longer containing his moans – they flow freely along with curse words, chants of your name, sounds you’d love to capture and play on repeat until the end of your days. 
“Oh my God,” he groans out particularly loudly, “Fuck, baby. J-Just like that, please- Fuck. You’re doing so good for me. Such a good girl, just for me.” 
Your hand is still wrapped around him, slowly coming up to squeeze hard around the tip as you whisper up to him, “Only for you.” 
“Yeah? Only for me?” 
You don’t know how to explain to him that it’s true: you’re only ever that mean for him, you’re only ever this eager for him, you’re only ever this desperate for him. 
You don’t answer him with words. There are none. Instead, you take him back in your mouth, and you solely focus on bringing your deity to climax. The man you were worshiping, the man who was worth the ache in your knees that surely told you they would be left bruised, if not skinned. 
“Is it just like you imagined?” you question as you break your lips off him. He’s close, leaking precum excessively and entire body taut, “Was it worth it? To picture this, to want this so badly?” 
He almost can’t answer you, but somehow manages between pants, “It was. It is. You’re- fuck, you’re worth it.” 
“Good,” you drop your hand from him, leaving him right on the edge as you rest both sticky palms on the tops of your thighs. You look up at him with relinquished control – the perfect image of submission, for him. “Then you get it. When I say you’re worth it, you get it.” 
He’s clearly still reeling from you bringing him so close only to leave him hanging, teetering on a cliff as he stares you down. 
His chest heaves as he questions, “What was it you wanted me to do earlier?” A deceiving hand comes down, tucking any baby hairs behind your ear and cradling the side of your face. One moment, his thumb is stroking a soft arch beneath your eye, the next that hand is pulling you up, “Make you?”
You know that if you hadn’t been so eager to follow his touch, you’d still be on your knees. Even as you watch him take the reins, you know you will always call the shots – just like he had said. 
“You really think you can make me hate you?” you whisper once you’re standing tall in front of him, leaning your cheek into his touch.
“I shouldn’t have to make you hate me,” he corrects, the thumb back to gentle strokes, loosening the touch to be more tender once again, “You should already hate me.” 
“Why?” 
He flips positions immediately, your lower back now curving into the railing as he presses himself up against you, his achingly hard cock between your bodies, “Because of this. Because I always want you on your knees for me. Because of all the fucking filth I want to do to you. I want to bend you over, right here, and take you where anyone could see. I want to have you screaming my name loud enough that every single person on the streets of this city hears you.”
With each word, a knot ties inside of you, desperate for release. 
“Because you’re fucking right,” he leans down, lips going straight for your neck, not looking you in the eyes, “All it fucking took was for you to get me alone for one night, and now? I’ll never get enough of you, I’ll never get clean of you,” he takes a deep breath, and suddenly, his lips latch onto you, sucking the skin between his teeth and biting hard. You can’t stop your fingers from latching onto his curls, tugging hard, body rolling into his. It hurts, it stings, you need more, “Everything changes. And that includes me.” 
His face finally leaves the crook of your neck, pulling back to look you in your eyes. Doe brown eyes search yours, wide and honest and pleading. You let everything else melt away; for a moment, it’s only him and only you. The tension, the last twenty one hours, the last year — you let it disintegrate and focus on him.
It never mattered if everything changed. 
It only matters that he’s changed, irreversibly, and so are you.
“How can I hate you for those things?” you press into him again, this time less desperate and more consciously, “Do it.” 
“Do what?”
“All of it,” you trail a hand up his chest, “Every single thing you just said. Fucking- Do them. Bend me over, make me scream, change me,” your voice breaks, shaking with anticipation and need. 
It’s all the encouragement he needs.
Every single thing he wanted, he craved, he does. A flurry of him properly discarding his jeans as he unbuttons yours to shove them down, spinning you and shoving you hard enough into the railing that it digs into your abdomen and leaves you breathless. You’re hardly aware of the way you step out of your pants and kick them to the side, looking out to the city skyline but not seeing it. It’s all a blur as you focus on the way your shirt rides up and he grabs your hips, bruising you finally as you have desperately needed. 
You wanted to be left haunted by the end of these last few hours. You wanted to see him every time you looked in the mirror for the next week, to remember the map of where his body molded to yours. You want to dream of the way he stretches you as your underwear is ripped to the side. You want to be followed by the sounds of his skin slapping against yours as he snaps forward with intention.
Changing you. He has no idea that he’s already ripped you open from the inside out, has already rewired your entire chest and set flames to your brain. 
Everything changes, and sometimes, everything is only two people. Just you. Just him. New versions that would have never met had it not been for this stupid fucking bet.
“Eddie,” you nearly sob, nearly choke on, his name burning in your throat like kindling embers. 
His hand walks up your spine, trailing wildfire even with a layer of cotton between you two. Burning and singing away all you’d assumed for far too long. When he reaches the nape of your neck, he takes care in wrapping your hair around his wrist, tugging back hard and forcing you to stand from where the railing had been bending you in two.
“Say it again,” his lips brush you ear with every gasping breathing, timing with the way his cock is sliding in and out of your warmth, “Say it louder.” 
“Fu-“ you start to moan, cut off by him pulling even harder on your hair, making his point so that you cry out, “Eddie!” 
He thrusts harder. You swear you could feel him in your throat. 
“Scream for me, baby,” an arm wraps around your torso, firm and solid for you to cling to rather than the warming metal of the railing, “Tell them who’s making you feel so good. Let them know. Be a good girl.”
Even when he claims to have control, it’s your actions, your reactions, that call the shots.
It’s the echo of your voice that spurs him on as you chant his name over and over, as if he were your only God. Primal worship dripping from every syllable. It’s the tremble in your thighs that has him pressing deeper into you, chest glued to your back as if he could never get you close enough. It’s the clench of your cunt around him, a vice that sucks him in as you drag him closer to the high he’s been dizzily chasing since you first dropped to your knees in front of him. 
It’s you. You’ve changed him, as he’s changed you.
He pulls your hair until you rest the back of your head against his shoulder, back arching and feet still spread as he only maintains his quick and brutal pace, leaning down to whisper in your ear one last time.
“You know the real reason why you should hate me?” he grits out between to particularly forceful thrusts, “It’s not just because I don’t deserve you. It’s because I’ve wanted you for so long,” you’re right on the edge, fluttering around his cock as his movements stutter. A tell tale sign. “I- fuck, fuck. It’s- God, I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.” 
You shatter around him in waves. Your entire body tenses as the words dig claws into you, piercing through vines and blooms. His body stills, warmth flooding you deep within as you continue to see stars. You can’t make a single sound, fingerprints surely left behind on where you clasp onto his forearm. 
I’ve loved you for so long, and I’ll never be fucking worthy.
When the waves recede, when the high has passed its peak, you both freeze. Your body tensed in his hold, struggling to process what he’d just said. 
Loved you. 
He’s frozen in place, scrambling to figure out how to undo the damage just done. 
I’ve loved you for so long.
He slips out of you, his spent dripping down your thighs. His forearm drops from you. Your hands don’t even try to stop him.
I’ll never be fucking worthy.
You should be worried of neighbors coming out to see the two of you on his balcony. If not worried, you should be embarrassed, or aching at the thought once again. Anything. You should feel something.
You turn slowly to him, entirely numb as you catch his rueful expression.
Loved you. He loved you.
His regret turns to pain as you whisper, “What did you just say?”
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imbored1201 · 4 months
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Can I request a teen barca reader who is very young and very shy and meeting the team for the first time?? Thank you and have a nice day
First Impressions
Barcelona Femeni x Teen Reader
Word Count: 1,065
You were shaking, and you didn't know why. You've always heard good things about the Barca girls; they were kind and welcoming. Maybe it was the thought of being far away from home that worried you, or maybe it was the thought of not being good enough for a team of top elite athletes.
"Y/N!" You turned and saw Jonatan, your new coach. You didn't think you would ever be here; you thought your World Cup call-up was luck, but you ended up shining and performing amazing. You had gotten lots of offers, and you chose Barcelona.
"It's nice to see you again," he said, shaking your hand and taking your luggage. "Nice to see you too," you said in a whisper. He put a hand on your shoulder and led you out of the airport.
"Okay, I know you're probably tired, but we just need to take some photos of you in the jerseys. Alexia will see us on the field so you two can meet properly and we can discuss your living arrangements." You nodded at that. You knew you were rooming with someone, but they were still figuring out who.
————
You panicked more as you guys pulled into the parking lot. There were a couple of cars there of the people who were setting up for the photos and videos.
As you entered the locker room, Alexia was already there waiting for you. She smiled at you and pulled you into a hug. "So you're the wonder kid the internet has been talking about," she said, and you blushed at that.
"I guess," she smiled as she held out your jersey. You took it from her and admired it. "I can't believe this is really happening," you muttered, and she laughed and patted your head.
"Well, believe it kid, I could already tell you're going to be the future of this team." you smiled at that. You couldn't believe La Reina just said that.
"Now it's photo time, why don't you get changed, and I'll wait out there for you, okay?" You nodded and sat down as she walked out.
You couldn't believe this was happening. You were really signed with one of the best clubs in the world at 16.
You got changed, took some pictures to post later, and made your way onto the field. Alexia smiled at you, "red and blue fit you well." She put an arm around your shoulder and took you to the photographers.
After they gave you a break from photos, you and Alexia were able to talk and get to know each other better.
—————
In Jonatan's office, you discussed school and living arrangements. "We expect a lot from you in school, okay? We need you to pass all your classes and be on top of your school work. If you need us to talk to your professor about extending a deadline due to traveling purposes, we will. If you need tutors, we will happily get you people to help you, but we expect you to bring in good grades." You nodded at that.
"Living arrangements; Alexia here will be the one taking care of you." Alexia nodded. "I have the room ready, and I'll take you to the store, so we can get paint and decorate it however you want."
"Thank you," she smiled, and put an arm around your shoulder. Everyone stood up as he dismissed everything. "I'll see you at the next practice," he told you as he hugged you.
Alexia led you to her car. "The girls wanted to throw you a small party for your signing." "Really?" She nodded. "If you want, we can move it to tomorrow."
"It's okay," she nodded as she texted the girls. "Let's get you home."
—————
As soon as you entered her place, confetti popped all over you. "Patri! I said no," Alexia told the girl who was holding a confetti popper.
"You're cleaning that up." Patri nodded and looked at you. You were hiding behind Alexia, a bit overwhelmed by all the people looking at you right now.
"She's adorable," Pina cooed as she walked to you and pinched your cheek. You blushed at that, and Alexia smacked her hand away.
"Can everyone give her space? The kid just got here." Alexia led you through the crowd of girls who were trying to talk to you.
Both of you sat on the couch, and the girls sat around you. "Hey kid," Lucy smiled at you, and you muttered a small hi back. You looked around at everyone, observing them. You obviously knew all their names.
"Oh, yeah, I'm Y/N, by the way." "Trust me, we know. You were everywhere during the World Cup" Salma said as she showed a video of a beautiful goal you had scored. It's the goal that got you a lot of attention. "Right," you mumbled, wishing you could shrink right now and get away from everyone.
"You guys are scaring her," Fridolina said as she saw the nervous look on your face. "We just want to talk to her," Lucy defended. "Can we ask her questions?" Pina looked at Alexia, who gave her a look.
"Why are you asking me? Ask her?" Pina shrugged. "Aren't you basically her mom now?" Alexia glared at her, and everyone looked back at you.
"I can answer questions," you said, making the younger girls cheer. "Are you actually 16?" Pina said quickly, wanting to get the first question.
"Pina, that is the dumbest question. She's not going to lie about her age," Jana told her, and Pina raised her hands in defense.
"Cats or dogs?" Mapi asked, "I like both," you shrugged, "Favorite players of all time?" You shrugged. "I have a couple, Messi, Ronaldinho, and Alexia." The girls awed at the last part, and you hid your face in Alexia's shoulder.
After a couple more questions, Alexia finally stopped them. "That's enough; leave her be." The girls listened, and you were given the control to put a movie on.
Patri and Pina squeezed between you and Alexia on the couch, wanting to adopt you. "We'll teach you everything" Patri told you as she put an arm around you.
—————
They did teach you everything, and after a couple of weeks, they were able to get you out of your shell, and now you were another prankster on the team.
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justmeinadaze · 2 months
Text
Secret Underneath (Steddie X Plus Size You)
Tumblr media
"She's got a secret underneath (she's got a secret underneath) Yeah, she's his naughty little freak (yeah, she's his naughty, little freak) She likes to put on a show (she likes to put on a show) She likes when he takes control (she likes when he takes control)"
A/N: This came from utter annoyance at men online and just desperately trying to find a confident man who cares.
ENJOY!
Warnings: Sugar Daddies Steve and Eddie/ Baby Fem Plus Size Reader, SMUT, daddy kink (cause im me), blindfold, toys, voyeurism (I guess. They watch her pleasure herself on cam), dirty talk. Sub/dom dynamics, oh um age difference even though its not mentioned (guys are about mid to late 30s and Reader is in her mid to late 20s)
ANGST, Reader is assaulted by an ex (mentioned but not expanded on) boys comfort her, mentions of her wanting to be held and tired of feeling lonely, guys online try to flirt in the beginning but she shuts them down. I think that's it. Cliffhanger ending because again...Im me.
Word Count: 5555 (ooooo :P)
“I can take care of a young little thing like you. You’re perfect”
“If I’m perfect why do I need someone to take care of me?”
“Do you want to help Daddy finish, baby? My big hard cock needs some help.”
“Oof a real Daddy doesn’t need to announce how big his cock is. Try again, little boy.”
“I bet a little girl like you needs to be put in her fucking place, you stupid fucking slut. Now get naked and send me nudes or else.”
You role your eyes as you promptly block the person who sent you the message. When you signed up for this sugar baby website you were hopeful to find someone who wasn’t like the “men” you had talked to on regular dating apps. You wanted someone who knew what they were doing, confident, and could handle your sass without running. 
You had met a few who could live up to the title but none you wanted to keep around long term. 
Sliding your mouse through the images, you found a profile that intrigued you. The image attached wasn’t of one man but two and it didn’t show their faces. It wasn’t odd for the Babies to want anonymity like yourself but your profile picture at least showed all of you in your curvy glory with a mask blocking your eyes and lingerie blocking everything else. Daddies always felt the need to show off so usually their profile images accentuated their faces and/or their money.
These two, with an account named Mogul/Rockstar, were only photographed from the neck down and it was definitely a picture they took, not some professional or anything like that. The man on the left had a black, well fitted suit with his admittedly gorgeous hands holding a glass of whiskey. The man on the right was a bit less put together with torn jeans and a blue jean vest over his bare chest just barely blocking the tattoos that peaked out. You assume he must have long hair because the ends of wavy locks rested on his shoulders.
When most men reached out to you it was with some silly pick-up line or innuendo. This profile, however, simply sent you one word; “Hello.”
(8:45pm) “Hey there. Not much for words?”
(8:47pm) “We imagine you’ve heard them all. : ). “
(8:48pm) “Are you really two people? Or do you just have an extra ego?”
(8:48pm) “Oh or let me guess! Your dick is so big it counts as another person.
(8:50pm) “I mean my friend IS a big dick but lol”
(8:51pm) “Yeah, honey, it’s really two people. We like to be clear about that. Any Baby that becomes ours would be just that; ours. 
(8:53pm) “We’ve learned pretty quickly not many women feel comfortable with two Daddies which is absolutely fine and why we are up front.”
(8:54pm) “How up front are you being really when you don’t show your face?”
(8:55pm) “Hm. Not a yes girl. I like that. It’s good to ask questions. 
(8:57pm) “We do that for a couple of reasons. One being we are well known faces so we don’t want a Baby to choose us solely on that.”
(8:57pm) “Because you don’t want to be embarrassed?”
(9:00pm) “Asking questions is good. Interrupting isn’t. Don’t do it again.”
(9:01pm) “Or what?”
(9:08pm) “Or what, huh?”
(9:15pm) “Fuck you! Ignoring isn’t very Daddy like!”
(9:16pm) “Oh? Did little baby get her feelings hurt? We don’t ignore as punishments but you aren’t ours yet, sweetheart. If you don’t want to follow any rules that’s fine. We can just continue looking and you can be a brat with someone else.”
(9:18pm) “I’m sorry.”
(9:19pm) “What’s the other reason?”
(9:22pm) “Actually, that’s the biggest reason. Our fame gets in the way of a lot of things if you can believe it. Expectations are ruined and certain ideals are put in place.”
(9:23pm) “My reputation as a rockstar makes some ladies think I can’t be soft and I definitely can. Our image isn’t solely who we are.”
(9:25pm) “I can understand that. Being a bigger girl people think I’m either desperate or my weight becomes a fetish to them. Which, I mean, fetishes are fine but men make me feel like…it’s the ONLY reason they are sexually attracted to me.”
(9:26pm) “And not because of your personality. Yeah…”
(9:28pm) “Is that why you’re a bit of a brat? Lol need to weed out the idiots?”
(9:30pm) “Something like that. Lol.”
(9:32pm) “Baby, I think my friend and I are in agreement that we’d like to try this out if you’re willing. You don’t have to see us or do anything you don’t want. Per the anonymity that was mentioned, we aren’t going to give our names so you don’t have too either. We also won’t be showing our faces so, again, you don’t have to.”
(9:33pm) “More than anything, we just want someone to look out for and talk to. Maybe make you feel good from time to time if you let us.”
(9:35pm) “Ok, Daddy.”
(9:36pm) “Good. Good girl. : ). We can talk on here until the three of us get more comfortable and then we can give you our numbers so you can talk to us there or individually. As you can imagine, rockstar travels a lot and so do I for deals so we aren’t always together 24/7.”
(9:40pm) “Are you both friends or partners?”
(9:42pm) “Friends for sure.”
(9:43pm) “Ok, baby girl, we’ll let you go but we’ll talk to you tomorrow. Get some sleep.”
(9:45pm) “Good night, Daddy.”
(9:46pm) “*Daddies”
(9:48pm) “Good night, honey.”
(9:48pm) “Sweet dreams, princess.”
As you laid in bed that night, you couldn’t help but wonder who they could be. You did some quick googling of businessmen who were friends with rockstars but that was stupid because that was a very common friendship found within industries. Rolling over, you plugged in your phone to charge it, pausing when you heard it ding.
Mogul/Rockstar deposited $300 into your account!!
Wow. No man had ever sent you that much just for an introductory conversation. Maybe because it was two of them they felt the need? As you drifted off to sleep, you found yourself getting more and more curious about them, dreaming of possibilities that may come to be.
############
That first month went by a lot smoother than you expected it to when it came to this account. They were incredibly kind and genuinely seemed to care about your day and what you were up to. Any time you voiced any kind of concern, they listened and did what they could. For example, you wished you could tell who was responding when since at the moment they replied as one. A few minutes later Rockstar changed his text to be red so you knew you were talking to him. 
When it came to finances, they were more than generous, giving you a set amount of $500 at the end of each day. They never once asked for anything sexual or made innuendos about their bodies or yours. 
As the second month began however you found yourself getting antsy.
(6:42pm) “May I ask a question?”
(6:43pm) “Yeah, of course, anything, honey.”
(6:45pm) “Can we do something…I mean can you help me…”
(6:46pm) “We can help with anything, princess. You just have to ask like a big girl.”
(6:47pm) “Can you…help me cum…”
(6:47pm) “Please, Daddy.”
(6:48pm) “We can do that for you, pretty girl. If you want. You remember the rules?”
(6:48pm) “Yes, Daddy.”
(6:49pm) “You don’t even have to turn on your camera or mic or anything. You can just…watch me.”
(6:50pm) “We never do anything we don’t want to do.”
(6:51pm) “But we would love to watch you cum. Do you have toys or were you just going to use your fingers?”
(6:53pm) “I have toys, Daddy.”
(6:54pm) “I actually just got this rabbit vibrator but I have no idea how to use it.”
(6:57pm) Mogul/ Rockstar has invited you for a video chat.
Biting your bottom lip, you grab your mask and pull it over your eyes, checking your appearance in the camera box before clicking their link. The camera box was still just their image from the site which you expected but was pleasantly surprised when a husky voice flowed through your speakers. 
“Hey, honey. You don’t have to turn your mic on if you don’t want to. We just thought it would be fair since you’re about to vulnerable with us.”
You smiled as you turned on your microphone. 
“Is it vulnerable? It’s just…masturbating right?”
“I mean, are you playing with yourself on the internet for just anyone?”
The second voice that followed through sounded extremely familiar as if you heard it somewhere before. It was incredibly sexy none the less. 
“No.”
“Then I would say you’re being vulnerable, babe. Jesus, you are really beautiful by the way.”
“Thank you, Daddy.”, you beam.
“Can we ask why shorts and an oversized shirt? Most women wear the lingerie or a bra and panties.”
“Or are totally naked.”
“I just want to be comfortable. I’m not roaming around my house in a bra and panties.”, you giggle. “I take those off as soon as I get home from work.”
“Very fair. We’ve never asked what you do. Do you feel comfortable telling us?”
“I’m a teacher. Another reason for said anonymity.”
“Again fair.”
“Um, may I ask, whose voice is whose?”
“Yeah, pretty girl. I’m the Mogul.”
“I’m the rockstar.”
Smiling, you nod but you find yourself completely unsure of how to proceed. Usually, you could play innocent and do what you needed in the bedroom but something about these men were making you…
“Honey, are we making you a little nervous?”, Mogul asked in a sweet tone. 
“Yeah a little bit. I’m sorry.”
“No reason to be sorry, sweetheart. Can you do your Daddies a favor and show us the toy you got?”
Like a little kid in a store, your smile grew as you opened the box by your feet and produced the pink vibrator, displaying it for them to see.
“Is that your favorite kind of toy?”
“Usually men are but—” You quickly covered your mouth with your palm not meaning to let your sass slip out like that. Again, you were surprised when you heard both men laugh.
“I like that sassy attitude.”
“The confidence to.”, Mogul adds. “Don’t cover up that personality for us, baby girl. We’re big boys. We can handle it.”
“Most men can’t.”
“Most men aren’t us.”
“That’s for damn sure.”, you smirk as your thighs rub together. 
“Why don’t you take off those short for us, sweetheart?”, Rockstar suggests as you nod, rising from your chair to bring them down and toss them aside. “Good girl. Can you open your legs for us so we can see that pretty pussy?”
Licking your lips, you close your eyes as your open your legs giving them a good view. 
“Open your eyes, baby girl, and don’t move them from the camera.”, Mogul commands in a firm tone. “Jesus, man. I bet she tastes really fucking sweet.”
“And is really fucking tight. That toy is going to stretch you out I bet.”
You moan at their words as you tease your slit with the end of the vibrator.
“I wish you both were here to help me.”, you whine as you palm slides under your shirt to massage your breast. 
“Go ahead, honey. Push it into your cunt and tell us how it feels.”
Mewling, you easily guide it inside of you, the subtle vibration against your clit driving you crazy.
“Fuck, it feels so good, Daddy.”
“Yeah, princess? Fuck, I’ve never wanted to eat a pussy so bad in my life. Look at her. I just want her to ride my face till she cums over and over.”
“Fuck…yes.”
“You’d like that, baby? Make a mess all over Rockstar’s face.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Such a dirty little girl. Can you say it for us?”
“I’m…I’m a dirty girl. Fuck, Daddy, it feels so good inside of me.”
“Fuck, baby girl. You’re so fucking sexy. Make yourself cum.”
“Can I, Daddy? Please. I’m so close.”
“Yeah, sweetheart. You have our permission.”
Your body shook as you came, your hips grinding against the toy as you elongated your high. 
“Good girl, honey. Very good. Come back to us.”
“Th-thank you. Thank you.”, you grin as you bite your lip. “Wait, did you guys cum? I wanna hear it.”
“This was about you, babe. We didn’t touch ourselves.”
“Doesn’t change the fact that we’re really fucking hard though after that display.”, Rockstar laughed.
“Are you serious? You guys didn’t…at all. Most men do.”
The image in their camera box suddenly changes and their laps from the waist down come into your view. Both men were wearing shorts and you could vaguely see their bulges poking through. Their hands were gorgeous, one littered with rings that you assumed belonged to the rockstar. 
“Again…we aren’t most men.”
“Don’t make us have to remind you again.”
Nodding, you softly apologize as you lean back in your chair.
“What’s wrong, baby? Are you pouting?”, Mogul asks in a tone that makes you smile. 
“Not really. I just…I wish you could hold me.”
“Yeah…yeah, princess, we wish we could to.”
“Will you ever trust me enough to show me your faces?”
You listen as they heavily sigh.
“Maybe. Let’s just take this one step at a time, ok?”
After your good nights and lying in bed alone, you don’t know why but you begin to cry. You had been alone for so long, broken hearted from the bullshit your ex put you through. You loved what the site offered but you wondered if that momentary high would be enough to sustain you. You just wanted someone who would hold you and tell you everything was alright. Someone who would take care of you and make you feel safe so you didn’t have to worry anymore about…everything. 
As your phone dinged, you glanced at the notification that illuminated your screen. 
Mogul/Rockstar deposited $2000 into your account!!
Hardening your heart, you reminded yourself that you were strong, squeezing your eyes tightly shut as you forced yourself to sleep. 
##############
(6:15pm) “Hey beautiful. What are your plans tonight? Rockstar and I were thinking maybe the three of us could have a camera date and just talk. Nothing sexual.”
(6:17pm) “You don’t have to of course.”
(6:20pm) “Sweetheart, you know how we feel about you not answering.”
(6:25pm) “Shit, you guys. I’m so sorry. I was charging my phone while I was getting ready! I actually have plans tonight.”
(6:27pm) “Ooo that sounds like fun. Spending some time with friends?”
(6:29pm) “Not exactly lol My ex actually invited me to dinner so we could talk about some things.”
(6:30pm) “You’re going on a date?”
(6:32pm) “Um, I guess you can call it that.”
(6:32pm) “Is that a problem?”
(6:33pm) “We made it clear that if you agreed to be our Baby you would be ours.”
(6:34pm) “Virtually, yes, but the information and rules you gave me didn’t say I couldn’t go out on a date. 
(6:35pm) “What. Did you think I was just going to be ok with not knowing who you two were and never having you two fuck me or hold me. 
(6:35pm) “To not go on actual dates and feel wanted.
(6:36pm) “Needed.”
(6:38pm) “Didn’t realize you needed everything spelled out for you. Relationships take time. Like you we imagine, we’ve been burned before. We don’t want another whore who’s only dating us for our money or status. We deal with fake people enough!”
(6:39pm) “We like talking to you and you’re so beautiful. We WANT to see where this goes but if you’re in that much of a rush maybe this was a bad idea.”
This Baby is currently offline. You may leave messages for her and she will get this when she logs back in!!
***
(9:32pm) CurvyBabyWAttitude has invited you for a video chat!!
(9:34pm) Mogul/Rockstar declined your invitation for a video chat.
(9: 35pm) “Please…I need you…”
(9:38pm) “Now you need us? After your date I’m thinking didn’t go well since it’s 9:30.”
(9:39pm) “Try again, little girl. We aren’t the kind of men you use whenever you feel like.”
(9:41pm) “We have feelings to.”
(9:45pm) “What? No sassy come back? Nothing sarcastic you want to say?”
(9:50pm) Mogul/Rockstar has invited you for a video chat!!
“Jesus Christ. What happened, baby?!”
When you illuminated their screen, you were a complete mess. Your hair was frayed every which way and even under the mask covering your eyes they could tell your make up was smeared from tears. Your black dress that you had worn was torn at the sleeve, hanging down as you held it together with your hand. 
“Did that fucker hurt you?”, Rockstar growled. 
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know who to call. I’m so sorry, Daddy. I should have stayed here with you. I’m just so tired of feeling lonely. As soon as that fucker showed me even a little bit of attention I just…”
You listened as they mumbled to each other, unable to make out what they were saying as you dried your tears with your fist. 
“We’re in New York right now. Are you close to that state?”
“Y-Yes?”
“Do you trust us? Say it.”, Mogul replies sternly when you nod.
“Yes, I trust you.”
“There’s a hotel outside of the city. I’ll message you the address and room number. You follow the instructions we give you to the letter. Do I make myself clear?”
“Yes, Daddy.”
***
“Hi, um, I’m checking into a room…under, um, Baby Girl.”
You cringe as you relay the information but all the young lady does behind the hotel counter is beam over at you as she types on her computer. 
“Ah and here’s your key. Do you need an escort or anything?”
“Oh, uh, no, ma’am, thank you.”
“No problem! The gentleman said he would be right there.”
You glanced around you nervously as you rode the glass elevator up to the floor your room was at. You appreciated that they didn’t make you go to some run-down Bates Motel but you were still a bit on edge. 
Heading for the door, you paused taking a deep breath before putting in the key and slowly entering the room. It was a modest little room but lived up to its five-star rating just on looks alone. Shifting your gaze, you realized quickly you were alone but noticed a note with the words “Baby Girl” on the mattress. 
Lifting it up, you found a black silk eye mask one would use for sleeping folded underneath. 
“Please place this mask over your eyes and we will be right in. 
We know it took a lot of trust for you to drive out here so we’re trying to meet you halfway.”
Taking a seat, you sighed as you tried to put the thing over your head, struggling a bit as a bruise had begun to form where your ex tugged at your dress. 
The sound of the door clicking and swinging slowly open caught your attention as you froze in place. 
“Um, f-full disclosure, my eyes are closed as well. I couldn’t get this thing further down and I could see under the—” You point at the bottom of the mask as the door closed. 
Cologne filled your nostrils as footsteps walked closer to you. 
“Is it ok if I touch you so I can fix it?”
Your head tilted to the side at the sultry, smooth voice just above you.
“Yeah…who-who is this?”
“I’m the mogul in our name. Rockstar is on his way.”
“Were you two not together?”
You feel the atmosphere shift as he kneels in front of you and his fingers gently hold your head as he adjusts the mask to be more comfortable.
“We were but he wanted to stop and grab some things in the lobby. How does that feel?”
“Better, thank you.”
He withdrawals his hands but he doesn’t move as you feel his eyes scanning you over. Braving crossing a boundary, your hands carefully reach out and find his cheeks. Taking a hold of your wrists, Mogul helps guide your movement over his fluffy hair making you smile at how soft it is. When your thumb finds his lips, he exhales heavily and his warm breath has your pussy clenching around nothing. 
Abruptly, the door beeps and opens again as the smell of cigarettes fills the room.
“Do you know how hard it is to find ice in this goddamn palace!?”
Your head tilts again as you try to follow the new voice as he moves about the room. 
“And that would be the rockstar.”, the man in front of you assures as he pats your thigh and sits beside you. As he goes to release your hand, you immediately reach for him again, afraid of being in the dark now that they were here.
“Next building you buy should be a fucking hotel so you can put things where us humans can find them.”
You hear what sounds like someone being lightly hit as everything becomes silent again. 
“Hey, sweetheart. Sorry. My mouth tends to move before my brain does.”, he replies in your direction at a bit of a calmer register as he bounces on to the bed beside you. “God, asshole got you good, huh? Ok, this is going to be cold.”
You yelp and wince when something freezing lands on your arm. 
“I searched for like an actual icepack but I guess the 5 stars don’t include first aid.”
“Ok! I get it. You’re not used to fancy places, dude. Jesus.”
Rockstar laughs through his teeth making you smile again as your free hand reaches towards where you assume he is. Your fingers touch hair first and your eyebrows scrunch together as you realize you found the ends just above his shoulder. 
“Yeah, I, uh, wouldn’t run my fingers through that. It’s all tangled. You may get stuck and have to stay with us forever.”, he chuckles before it trails off. 
You can feel them both watching you as your palm finds his cheek and like with his friend your thumb moves along his bottom lip. They were a bit more chapped but based on the smell you assumed that was due to the cigarettes. As your hand began to travel down his neck, you paused and pulled away not wanted to make either man uncomfortable. 
“I’m sorry.”, you mumble.
“What are you sorry for, honey?”
“I don’t mean to be…that much of a brat, you know. I like talking to you both to and I want to see where this goes but…I guess I’m like him sometimes.” You pause as you gesture towards the rockstar. “My mouth moves before my brain. I’ll understand if you don’t want to be my Daddies anymore.”
Both men were silent for what felt like an eternity before the ice was removed from your skin and replaced by lips. A pleasant sigh escaped you as he tenderly kissed your bruises.
“Why did you ex hurt you?”, Mogul asked.
“Because he’s a fucker.”
“Yeah, we gathered that.”, Rockstar teased as he leaned away from you but intertwined your fingers with his. 
“He, uh, took me on a date to this tacky little restaurant that I told him a million times I hate and then on the drive home he insinuated because he took me out I’d want to…you know.”, you exhale as your head hangs. “I’m just so tired of being lonely. I just want someone to take care of me. ME. Not the supposed ‘whore who needs to be put in her place’ or ‘the desperate big girl’. I’m strong and I can take care of myself. I’m just…tired.”
Fingers tenderly moved your hair behind on of your ears. 
“God, I love your attitude.”
“It’s not uncommon for us to constantly run into ‘yes’ people. It’s one of the problems we have with Babies. Always ‘Yes, Daddy.’ Or ‘Of course, Daddy.’ Sometimes we can’t tell if it’s them being genuine or pandering to us to get what they want. Which…I guess is fine but…”
“Not what we’re looking for.”
Your hands search for Mogul’s face and he grins as he leans in allowing you to touch him. When your lips find his, however, he hastily pulls back and rises to his feet. 
“Hey, no, honey. You don’t have to do that. That’s not why we came down here.”
You feel yourself start to panic, losing your bearings since you can’t see. You had gotten used to them both being next to you and when he stood up you suddenly felt lost. 
“I’m right here, princess. You’re ok. Everything’s ok.”, Rockstar murmurs in your ear as he squeezes your thigh.
“You don’t want to fuck me?”, you ask to the void, unsure of exactly where the other man may be. 
A deep, guttural groan echoes in front of you as you turn your head towards it.
“I’ve never wanted something or someone so bad in my life, baby, but… that’s not why we came here.”
“He doesn’t want you to feel used. Your ex tried to do that and he doesn’t want you to feel like we’re the same.”
“I don’t. I don’t feel that way at all, Daddy.” Your voice had dropped into that little girl tone as you fully allowed yourself to be vulnerable for them. “Please…”
Lips connected to yours again but the taste was different. The nicotine that lingered on his tongue mixed with the slight taste of mint toothpaste set your body on fire as it fully came to life and you wrapped your arms around the man’s neck as he gently tilted you onto your back.
The bed dipped on your other side and you disconnected from one set of lips to another. You became lost in his kisses as his tongue danced with yours and their hands roamed your skin. 
“We’re going to be gentle tonight, baby girl. Let us take care of you.”
You allowed them to undress you and waited patiently as they removed their own clothes. Lying on either side of you, they each lifted one of your legs over their hips as their lips and tongues sucked on your neck.
Rockstar’s fingers glided through your folds and you groaned loudly as he massaged circles into your clit. While running your hand through his hair, Mogul licked and sucked on one of your nipples making your hips buck as you searched for more friction. 
“Please.”
“What do you want, sweetheart? You want my fingers?”
“Yes, Daddy, please.”
His nose presses against your cheek, his mouth opening in a silent moan as he effortlessly guides two of his digits inside of your core. 
“Fuck. I was right. You are tight. Jesus, sweetheart, our cocks are going to stretch you open, baby.”
“Can…Can I have you both?”
“Can you handle that?”, Mogul asked with a slight whine of want. 
“Yeah, Daddy. I can, I promise.”
“Baby girl, I don’t think you understand what you’re asking for.”, he chuckles and you listen as he sucks on what you assume is his fingers. “You may think we’re cocky but trust us we’ve earned the right to be.”
You suck in a breath as you twist your hips and feel two long thick fingers pushed into your ass as both men thrust their digits into you. 
“Oh…my…”
“Can a little girl like you handle your Daddy’s big cocks inside of you at the same time?”
Your hands cling to the man in front of you as you passionately kiss him, his tongue catching your moans as you tremble and trench his fingers as you cum. 
“Y-Yes, I can…I can handle it.”
They abruptly sit up and manhandle you around the bed, Mogul’s arms holding you tightly as he places himself on the edge of the mattress with his legs hanging off the side. Just as you had, his palm comes up to caress your face as his thumb traces your lips. 
“You’re so beautiful, baby.” You softly smile at the sincerity in his voice while he circles your arms around his neck. “Just hang on to Daddy, ok? We got you.”
His hair tickles your nose as he tilts his head and grips his cock between your bodies. 
“Shit, um, I almost forgot. Is it ok…I don’t think we have condoms.”
“It’s ok. I’m protected and I’m clean. You can cum inside me…if you want to…”
“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re going to kill us. Ok, go ahead and baby let me know when you’re ready for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
You feel his mushroom tip tease your entrance making you both moan. 
“Take your time, honey. I got you.”
As you slowly descend onto him, he sucks in a breath as your fingers thread through his hair. 
“So big. Fuck, Daddy.”
“How does she feel, man?”
“Mmpf, tight. That’s it. You’re almost there.”
When you’re fully seated on top of him, his forehead leans to rest on yours as his humid breath fans your face. The action causes you to clench around him and he grunts in pleasure.
“Hang on to me.”, he whispers as he tips back onto his hands tilting you with him. 
Rockstar spits in his palm behind you and you mewl as he rubs it between your cheeks.
“Are you ready, princess?”
“Yes, Daddy, I’m ready.”
Holding your ass open, he gradually slides into you.
“Oh fuck. I wasn’t expecting… goddamn baby girl.”
Ringed fingers take hold of your bicep as both men thrust into you at the same time hitting every spot inside of you that has you melting into them. 
“Oh my God. Yes!”
“Yeah, baby? Fuck, dude. I don’t know how—mmm—how long I’m gonna last. Her ass feels so good.” A hand slaps your behind making you moan as another strong palm grips the back of your thigh guiding your movements as you bounce back into theirs. 
Lips in front of you open mouth kiss your chest up to your neck as you push them closer to your skin. 
“Please. Fuck, Daddy! M’gonna cum.”
Slamming their hips up to meet yours, your body quivers as the coil snaps.
“Atta girl, honey! Making a mess all over our cocks and coming hard like that. So fucking sexy.”
Clinging to them tightly, you allowed them to use you to chase their highs. The man behind you warms your insides first, grunting as his rhythm falters. The man in front of you soon follows thrusting his spend deep inside of you.
“We’re going to pull out, sweetheart, ok?”
“Ok, Daddy.”
After carefully removing themselves, you feel yourself being lifted into the air and spun around before being placed on soft pillows. A wet rag cleans you and you pleasantly sigh as you curl under the covers that were placed over your body. 
“Are you both going to stay?”
Cool metal touches your skin as a hand pets your head. 
“Do you want us to?”
“I promise I won’t look.”
Warmth encases you as they lay on either side, murmuring praises as you steadily fall asleep. 
#################
When you woke up the next morning you were alone, finding a note on the nightstand that said they thought it best to leave before you woke up but that the room was yours for as long as you need and to message them when you made it home. 
You did what they requested but decided to utilize the rest of your Sunday for yourself thinking about everything that happened. You heard your phone pinging but you didn’t want to talk to anyone wishing you could call in that following Monday. Unfortunately, you made a promise to a friend, you couldn’t break. 
“Y/N, honey, are you alright?”, your colleague asks as she lightly elbows your side. 
“I’m fine. Just an interesting weekend.”
“Alright, guys so this where all the important decisions are made.”, the building tour guide obnoxiously smiled as she guided the class around the office space. “Let’s see if the boss is available.”
“Well thank you for chaperoning with me. When Mrs. Ludwig cancelled I thought I would have to reschedule.”
“No problem. I know nothing about business and economics but…”, you giggle. 
“Holy shit!”
“Mark!”, your friend shouts. “Watch your mouth! Jesus!”
“Mrs. Raymond, it’s Eddie Munson. The guitarist from Corroded Coffin!”
Turning your head in that direction, you realize two men are staring your way, one of them indeed the famous rockstar. 
Rockstar…
Blinking you tilt your head as you notice the rings on his fingers.
That voice. I knew that voice.
“It’s not uncommon for us to see Mr. Munson around here. Him and Mr. Harrington have been friends for a long time. Right, sir?”, the tour guide asks.
“Steve Harrington? The business mogul?”
Mogul…
“See, Y/N. You know some things about the business world.”, your friend grins. 
As the world around you seems to slow down to a halt, you three continue to stare at each other as you figure out where to go from here.
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starkwlkr · 11 months
Note
Can I request a protective Max going above and beyond to keep his gf or fiancee (you take the call) safe from a stalker? I'd leave the rest to your imagination on how to make it dramatic cause I love drama.
nothings going to hurt you baby | max verstappen
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Y/n was always a private person, but that all changed when she met Max. She was often seen in the paddock supporting her boyfriend. She went from staying in on Friday nights to traveling around the world to watch Max race. She realized how many eyes were on her when her friend sent her multiple articles with her name in bold letter on the front cover.
It was the first race of the season and Y/n was once again in the paddock. This time though she was alone. Her friend that usually accompanied her to the races was busy. As she walked towards the Red Bull hospitality, the usual photographers took her picture. Even after years of dating Max, she was never getting used to the constant flashing lights that belonged to the cameras.
When she reached the hospitality, she sat at a table near the window and took out her phone. It was a regular routine for Y/n now. Stay a few minutes in the Red Bull hospitality, meet up with Max before the race then went up to the paddock roof and watched the race from there.
After spending sometime alone, she put her phone in her pocket and walked out of the hospitality, completely unaware that a man had followed her out. In a few short minutes, she found herself entering the Red Bull garage.
“Is Max in his driver’s room?” She asked Max’s engineer, Gianpiero. He nodded with a smile and continued his work.
Y/n walked to the driver’s room and knocked lightly until she heard Max’s voice telling her to come in. She opened the door and saw Max finishing putting on his race suit.
“How are you feeling?” Y/n asked, approaching Max and giving a kiss on the lips.
“Well since you’re here, I’m feeling pretty good. You know I always do well when you’re here.” Max replied. “I don’t want you to be alone so you can stay in the garage instead.”
“Max, I’ll be fine. There’s going to be people around me so I won’t be alone.” Y/n assured him.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea. Some fan might want to bother you. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable during the race.”
“I’ll be fine, Max.”
Of course that didn’t happen.
During the race, she could feel eyes on her. It was kind of normal since most fans recognized her as Max Verstappen’s girlfriend. But this time, Y/n felt different. Her mother always told her to trust her gut feeling. So in that moment she did. Y/n walked down the stairs of the paddock roof and tried to walk to the Red Bull garage but some man ran into her.
“I’m so sorry. Oh, you’re a very pretty girl. I’m sorry.” He told her.
“Excuse me, I need to be somewhere.” Y/n tried walking away but he blocked her way.
“Where to? You look lost.”
“I know where I’m going so please move.” Y/n started feeling scared. She should’ve listened to Max.
“Woah, no need to get mad. I’m a nice guy. Why are girls always mean to the nice guys?” He asked.
“I’m done talking to you.” Y/n pushed past the man. She had a feeling he would start to follow her so she walked a bit faster towards the garage that only the Red Bull team (including her) could enter. When she arrived, she let out a sigh of relief.
She remained in the garage until the end of the race. Max had ended up on the podium once again. Y/n wanted to celebrate with the team and Max, but she once again had the feeling that the scary man would take the opportunity to find her so she stayed in the garage while the team celebrated another win.
When Max arrived to the garage, he first went up to his girlfriend, obviously confused as to why she wasn’t out in the track.
“I’m sorry. I was scared and I should’ve listened to you and stayed here. I’m so sorry.” Y/n rambled as Max gave her a much needed hug.
“Hey, what’s wrong? I’m here.” Max assured her, pressing light kisses to her forehead.
“On the roof, I had this strange feeling so I was on my way down here and this guy wouldn’t let me walk away, Max. He tried following me so I came here as fast as I could.” Y/n explained. “I should’ve listened to you.”
“You’re okay now. You’re here with me and that’s all that matters. I’m not letting some guy hurt you.”
Max had talked with Christian about making sure someone was always with Y/n during a race. The team leader even made sure the garage had more security. Now, Y/n felt more safe. Every race after the incident, she stayed in the garage and if she wanted to watch the race from a different location, someone was always with her, even when it came to watching Max celebrate on the podium. Max wasn’t going to let anyone hurt the woman he loves.
Right after the podium ceremony, he would make sure to check on Y/n before he was pulled away for interviews.
“How are you feeling?” Max asked Y/n as he wiped his face with a towel. Y/n smiled at him and kissed his lips that tasted like champagne.
“I’m more than okay. Thank you.” Y/n replied.
“I have a couple interviews to do. Sarah said she would stay with you.” Max informed his girlfriend.
“Sometimes I feel like Sarah is my babysitter. I love her, remind me to get her something good for her birthday. I’m thinking a trip to the Bahamas.” Y/n chuckled.
“I think she’ll love that.”
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ddejavvu · 2 months
Note
I saw a video on tiktok the other day of a man on his wedding day getting down to the level of his new stepdaughter and reading out vows to her about how he'll always love and care for her and I bawled my eyes out. Now all I can think about is Hotch and single!mom reader on their wedding day getting down and reading vows to each others children. I dont know if you write single! Parent reader, but if you do could you write something with this premise? Thank you lovely if you can
Your daughter is mildly confused when Aaron beckons her over during the ceremony, but at four years old, she's mostly obedient to her parents. Well- to Aaron. To you, she protests and screams and giggles maniacally, but you suppose you're the one that gave it to her, so you can't complain without sounding like a hypocrite.
You set a hand on Jack's shoulder, ushering the older boy into your own grip.
"You look so handsome," You gush, eyes teeming with tears that threaten to ruin your mascara, "Jack, I- I won't embarrass you by calling you a mushy nickname like CrackerJack, or JackAttack, or Jackers-"
"You're using them all right now-!" The teenager protests, but he doesn't shrug your hand off of his shoulder; his protests are for show.
"Sorry! Sorry," You sniffle, and you let the fifteen year old wipe a tear away from your eye before it ruins your makeup.
"Jack," You repeat, steeling yourself, "I- I just want you to know that I love you. It's not because I love your dad, it's not because we live together, it's not because you woke me up with breakfast in bed on my birthday. It's- it's because of you, sweetheart. I know you're getting older, and- and you might be going away to college soon," You poorly withhold a sob, thinking of an empty bed in the room down the hall, "-but I just- I need you to know that it's you that I love, just the same as I love June. Your mom was an amazing woman, and she made an amazing son, and I'm so honored that you've given me permission to be your stepmom. I love you- Jackers."
Perhaps its awkward for the teen to face such strong emotion head-on, but you won't tattle to his schoolfriends about the tears that well up in his eyes, or the red tint to his nose as he bites them back.
"Love you too," He supplies weakly, surging forwards to wrap his arms around your waist- but it's all you need. One of your photographers makes to readjust your veil where it's been momentarily crumpled beneath his arm, but damn the veil, your stepson is more important.
"They're gushy," Aaron accuses, holding little June in his arms and pointing at you, "Are we gonna be gushy, Junie B Jones?"
Her eyes are mystified as she stares at her mama and her brother, but she shakes her head dutifully at Aaron.
"Oh, go, you're sappier than I am," You tease Aaron, and it rouses a light chuckle from your guests.
"Loony-Junie," Aaron starts, and the girl in his grasp giggles at the name. Encouraged by her delight, he employs her favorite moniker; her most desired snack, "My little pickle. Thank you, for letting me marry your mama. And for giving her the ring, even if it fell in the eggs instead of the fully-baked cake."
The little girl roars with a squeal of laughter at the memory, and- now you know why the Lysol wipes were on the counter the night of Aaron's proposal.
"You were a super big helper to me and your brother," He continues, holding her close, "And I'm so happy I get to be your stepdad now. I know you're a big girl, and you can do pretty much everything by yourself now," He lets her pipe up, falling silent as her tiny voice rings out.
"-I can even put my own shoes on the right feet!"
Not every audience member manages to stifle their giggle, but the little girl doesn't look abashed for it. Aaron nods with a fond grin on his face, and Jack leans into your side where you've pinned him in a hug.
"She can not. I had to switch her mary janes before the ceremony."
"Stop," You pinch him in the side, snorting with laughter and concealing it in the warmth of his shoulder, "Do not make me turn into an evil stepmother, Jack. Let her have this." He concedes- oh, such a good brother.
"I know!" Aaron exclaims, one of his large palms spread wide across her belly as he holds her in his arms, "I'm super proud of you, baby. But. If you ever need help with your shoes, or with your hair, or with your friends, or with your teachers, or with your brother," He shoots a suspicious glance at Jack who sticks his tongue out at his father, "Or with anything at all, pickle, you come tell me. Okay? Even if it's a problem that I'm part of."
"Okay," She agrees easily, unaware of the dozens of painfully-swollen hearts watching the display, "Thanks, dada."
"Oh, pickle," He bites back a shallow, raw twinge to his voice as he hugs her and you hiss, 'Gushy.'
"I love you too," He promises June, "Forever, and always, and even longer after that."
"Infinity?" Her eyes shine; it's a concept her pre-k class came upon in a library comic book and she's fascinated with it.
"For infinity." Aaron confirms, and her teeth show in a grin as brilliantly white and gleaming as the beads sewn into your outfit.
Her response is two tiny, chubby arms slung around his neck, and a delicate face buried in his shoulder. Despite your no-photography request, you're fairly certain a camera shutter goes off that doesn't belong to the photographer you hired.
Garcia.
Oh, well.
"Alright you saps," You manage to blubber, your voice barely clear of the sobs creeping up your throat, "Let's get married before I cry and ruin my makeup. I paid so much for the stylist."
Jovial laughter rings through the tent you've set up, and Aaron sets June down, though she follows at his heels the same way Jack does at yours. They stand together, brother and sister, just as you do with Hotch, soon-to-be husband and wife.
"Don't cry." You command, "Or I'll cry."
"Don't cry," He repeats with a sheepish grin and a thick voice, blinking rapidly, as your babies join hands, "Or I'll cry."
"I'm crying," A faint voice from the audience rings out, but you can't manage to find any annoyance towards Garcia's repeated disruptions.
Aaron laughs, squeezing his eyes shut and letting a tear slip despite his best efforts. He presses his forehead to yours, and you do the same, feeling his breath fan over your face as he reels himself in.
"Come on, Hotchner," You urge, your voice wobbly, as your heart races in anticipation, the officiant stepping towards you, "Get it together, big guy. I'm not leaving this tent without your last name."
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harrysfolklore · 9 months
Text
love on tour, forever - blurb
i watched harry’s video and got super inspired to write this, it’s definitely one of my favorite things i’ve done so i hope you like it 🥺
ALL GIFS ARE BY @delicatepointofview FOLLOW THEM FOR THE BEST GIFS EVER <33
MASTERLIST | MY PATREON
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“Do you think I should pack this?” you asked holding a video camera up, catching Harry’s attention.
“That would be great, love,” he said from the bed, watching you add the final items to your suitcase, “That way you can film me while I shower for when we’re apart.”
“Oh shut up,” you rolled your eyes with affection and he smirked, “I’m filming special moments with this, you know, backstage moments your photographers don’t always catch.”
“Bummer,” he shrugged, making you roll your eyes at him again, “I’m just kidding love, that is a very lovely idea.”
“It’s settled then.” You smiled at him and put the camera in your suitcase, knowing that by the end of the tour, it would be filled with the most special and heartfelt moments.
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“What are you doing down there, lovie?”
“Making sure I get all of your angles,” you shrugged, focused on your video camera, “Here’s the rockstar, getting his steps in before hitting the stage.”
He let out a laugh before you could catch a flash of mischief in his eyes, “You know, there’s another way I could get my cardio in.”
“Stop it, you’re on camera,” you held your finger up and gave him warning eyes, you were planing on showing this videos to his mom who couldn’t be with him all the time, and the last thing you wanted was her knowing abouthis shenanigans, “How are you feeling, nervous about tonight’s performance?”
“I feel good,” he said truthfully, “I’m excited to see everyone and sing our songs, but most importantly I’m excited to wear sparkly gear again.”
“There he is, there he is,” you couldn’t help but shake your head and smile, “I’m going to film the real stars of the show, Mitch and Sarah, so say bye.”
“Bye YN’s camera! Such a shame you’re not catching my post workout shower!”
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“It’s negative!” Nyoh said as she entered the room, making everyone cheer and clap.
“We’re not sick! That deserves a happy dance!” Harry said as he stood up and danced goofily around the room, making everyone laugh at him.
Looking at your camera sitting at the table, you decided it was a golden moment you couldn’t afford to miss.
“Okay Ny-ny, could you hold your test up so everyone knows why this man-child is dancing like a fool,” Nyoh showed her test to the camera, laughing as you moved it to show Harry who kept on dancing, “Sometimes I don’t know if I’m dating an adult or a five year old.”
“Come on lovie, dance with me!” he approached you, holding his hand out, “If you don’t I’m going to be sad” he said in a dramatic voice, and you passed your camera to Sarah who was sitting next to you, getting her to film the both of you.
“I want to kiss you right now but we can’t take off our masks,” Harry said before a minute of jumping around, “Easy tiger, we’ll be alone soon.”
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“Rehearsal time!” you said cheerfully, filming everyone on stage, “Here’s Sarah, Mitch, Pauli, Niji, Ny,” they all waved as you mentioned their names, “And there’s a dude called Harry who claims to be the headliner of the show, no one knows him tho.”
“Come on woman,” Harry gave you an annoyed playful look, “You know me, very well. Actually you know parts of my body that-“
“Harry! What’s with you and your horny comments all the time, you’re like a teenager!” you shook your head, all of his bandmates laughing at your banter.
“Can you blame me? I go home to you every night, I’m a lucky bastard.”
“That you are!” Pauli chimed in, making everyone laugh again.
The band continued rehearsing, you standing in a corner and catching some moments on video. Once they were done with Canyon Moon, Harry called for you.
“So, love. What do you think? Do we sound good.” Harry asked, looking at your with happy eyes, aware that you were still getting it all on camera.
“If by we you mean your band, they sound amazing as always. If you’re included in that ‘we’ then I don’t know, you should practice some more”.
Harry threw his head back in laughter, grabbing the hem of his shirt with one hand and his mic with the other, “Why are you sassy with me today! What have I done?”
You only shrugged and laughed along with him, getting on your tiptoes and kissing his cheek softly.
“Practice some more, I said!”
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“Aren’t you the cutest little thing ever?” you cooed at the baby in your lap, Mitch and Sarah asked you to watch their son while they run something with the rest of the band and you were more than happy to do it, “You’re the sweetest boy I know!”
“I thought I was the sweetest boy you knew!” Harry’s voice made its way to you ears, he entered the room accompanied by Mitch and Sarah, the baby instantly making grabby hands at his mom.
“You’re not a boy anymore, you’re basically pushing 30!”
“Don’t remind me!” he dramatically said, “I’m still young and full of life.”
The four of you laughed, Sarah moving to sit next to you and Mitch and Harry hanging out by the door.
“Did he give you any trouble?” Sarah asked, looking down at her son, “He just learned how to walk without any help do he could be a handful sometimes.”
“Not at all, he’s the easiest baby ever.” You smiled at them tenderly.
“He’s not only obsessed with walking, he’s obsessed with dancing too.” Mitch said before taking a sip out of his wine glass, he’s never without one.
“Oh! I didn’t know that!” Harry said excitedly, “Baby, dance for us!”
Sarah put him down and Harry tried to make a melody by hitting the wall and mumbling random stuff, the boy instantly moving his body in an adorable way that made everyone laugh and awe at him.
Harry noticed that you had grabbed your camera to film the moment and he spoke directly to it, “That’s it! We have Love On Tour’s official dancer”
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“Here’s the boss man, with his brand new Love On Tour jacket,” you filmed Harry, who was posing by the door showing off his new clothing, “I have my own too, with my name on it and all,” you turned the camera around to show yours briefly before turning it to Harry again, “Anything you would like to say?”
“It’s show time, baby!” he bobbed his head, making the sunglasses who were resting on his head fall to his eyes.
You burst out laughing and so did he after a minute of holding his straight face, “You’re such a dork!”
“But you love me a lot!”
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“Eu te amo, Brasil!” Harry yelled to the empty stadium after sound-checking Lights Up.
“As you can see, he’s excited to be here,” you zoomed in on him with your camera, “We love this country so much.”
“We do, we do,” Harry agreed, “I’m putting on my best dance clothes and shoes tonight, this show is going to be massive!”
“You’re a dancer now?” you asked to piss him off.
“Of course! Look at my moves.” He grabbed his mic with one hand, putting the other on his hip and moving funnily.
“Look at that! You’re going straight to Dancing with the Stars after this tour.”
“I’m more of a Dancing Moms kinda guy.” He shrugged, making everyone laugh before moving on with the next song to rehearse.
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“There it is, the 10th tweet about how they’re going to the show for Lloyd only.” You giggled, scrolling down your timeline while Harry watched over your shoulders.
“Okay, that’s it,” he said before standing up, “Lloyd Wakefield !” at this, the photographer turned his head around, previously in a conversation with Madi and some other crew members.
“Yes?” Lloyd asked in a confused tone, you stood back and grabbed your camera, knowing a funny moment you would love to remember was coming.
“I might have to fire you,” Harry said, his voice trying to sound serious but his eyes gave him away, “You’re stealing the show and I can’t accept that.”
Lloyd rolled his eyes and everyone in the room turned their attention to them with grins on their faces, they were used to Harry’s humor.
“Yeah? And who’s going to be your photographer now?”
“Or we could solve this like manly man, with a fight.”
“As if you would fight anyone!” you chimed in from your place, making them turn your attention to you.
“Is that my own girlfriend doubting me?” he said, faking an offended tone, “Bring it in, Wakefield”
Lloyd laughed but played along, bringing his arms up and playfully challenging Harry, but somehow they ended up putting their hands together and moving them back and forth.
“Look at the manly man, fighting for who’s the star of the show,” you said, your camera focusing on them, “Just another day on the road.”
“I don’t know what we’re doing but I’m winning!” Harry chirped and everyone laughed again.
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“Harry! Harry! Harry!”
Was all that was heard backstage at Reggio Emilia RFC Arena, some people holding up champagne glasses and jumping up and down.
“We did it!” Harry yelled as he placed himself in the center of the room, his vest long forgotten, jumping and twirling along with the cheers.
As usual, you were holding your camera, filming the special you knew he would want to replay over and over again.
“Congratulations baby, another world tour completed!” you said to him, “Any final words you would like to say to the camera.”
Harry paused to think for a few seconds before speaking, “I love you, that’s all,” she shook his head almost in disbelief, “You have been here for every step of the way, and that means the world to me, none of this would be possible without you.”
“Awe! Aren’t you a softie?” Jeff cheered, throwing his arm around his shoulders and ruffling his hair playfully.
“I’m just in love.” He winked at the camera and that was your cue to turn it off and take in the moment.
For three years, Love On Tour ruled the world and changed yours, giving you the opportunity to be by Harry’s side for every milestone and special moment.
The tour might had come to an end, but the memories created around it would last forever.
And you were glad you got them all on camera.
taglist: @lightsoutstyles @willowpains @straightontilmornin @sleutherclaw @gimsaysay @hazzassmirk @platinumbarbie143 @musicforcinemas @celesteblack08 @scntfrhs @eleanordaisy @lomlolivia @iceebabies @iloveshawn @be-with-me-so-happily @watermelonsugacry @rayisthehoe
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youunravelme · 10 months
Text
the worst wing-woman
author's note: just like all my other fics, we are existing in an alternate plane where tito was never traded. also i've never worked for the nhl, so i have no idea how accurate being a photographer is but guess what. idgaf. also sorry for the amount of italics in this fic, i have no self control apparently. and shoutout to my new friend @dani746 for helping me with this monstrosity.
summary: you've been in love with mat barzal for as long as you can remember, so what do you do when he asks for your help to win over your friend?
pairing: mat barzal x islanders photographer!reader
warnings: cursing and low self esteem
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despite working for the isles for two years now, you still got nervous walking into work.
you weren't a stranger to the team, some of them you knew quite well. anders and marty being two players you were friendly with (mainly due to the fact that you were somewhat friendly with their wives). but there was always one player who eluded you, who you'd only ever had professional interactions with.
mathew barzal.
and it shouldn't be surprising, you were a measly photographer whereas he was the star player of his team, the winner of the calder trophy, an nhl heartthrob. why should he pay attention to you?
media day was one of your favorite days, mainly because it was the closest you ever got to holding full conversations with him. not that the conversations went anything beyond "look right here" or "great job, mat."
you didn't even think he knew your name.
the longest conversation you had with him consisted of him asking to see the photos you took and patting you on your back when he liked what he saw before he went off to talk to tito.
"you having a good day?" you nearly jumped a foot in the air when your staring was cut off by anders walking up to you.
"yeah," you said when your heartbeat returned to normal. "just busy is all." you held your camera up as if that was enough of an explanation.
anders nodded. "any of the boys giving you a hard time?"
you shook your head rapidly. "nope, they've all been on their best behavior."
"even barzy and beauvillier?" at the mention of their names, the duo turned their heads and locked eyes with you and anders.
you wanted to dig a hole and die in it.
"what about us?" mat asked, sauntering over with his best friend right behind him.
"you haven't been giving her a hard time, have you?" anders crossed his arms. and if you weren't panicking at the closing distance between you and mat, you might've noticed the shared smirk between the three hockey players in front of you.
"us?" tito asked. "why would you think that? we've only ever been angels."
before anders could ask you to corroborate tito's story, your name was called. you awkwardly waved to the three men before walking over to another set of props, ready to photograph another hockey player.
"done embarrassing yourself?" your coworker tyler asked.
you lightly shoved his shoulder. "shut up."
"seriously, you're not his type," he added. "he's not gonna go for you."
tyler might as well have stabbed you in the gut with how much his words hurt you, but you put a smile on and nodded. "yeah, i know. i know."
and you did.
you knew.
but you'd be delusional for a little while longer if it meant going to work wouldn't suck every day.
later that night, you found yourself at a bar with a group of your friends. you didn't want to go originally, but when alexa said she needed to go out to get over her ex, you felt like you had no other choice.
which is how you found yourself sipping a soda water in a booth while your friends danced and took body shots.
your gaze wandered around the bar aimlessly before you checked your phone for the time.
you'd only been there for an hour.
it took all self restraint not to bang your head against the table.
"having fun?" your head snapped up at the familiar voice only to see anthony beauvillier standing at the edge of your booth with a self satisfied smirk.
"i--"
"i didn't take you as one to go out drinking on a weeknight," he said.
you slumped into your seat. "i'm not. my friend alexa wanted to go out because her boyfriend just dumped her and she wanted a distraction."
anthony took the seat opposite of you. "and that is...?" he gestured at your drink.
"soda water," you answered. "i'm the DD for tonight."
"oof," he groaned before taking a sip of his beer. "that's rough."
you shrugged. "it's not that bad, i'd rather my friends get home safe than get drunk and show up to work hungover."
anthony nodded in a way that you'd seen other men do, the type of nod that comes right before someone looks around for someone more interesting to talk to.
"but what about you?" you rushed out, nearly tripping over your own words.
tito smiled. "what about me?"
"why're you here?"
he shrugged. "mat wanted to come out and didn't want to go out alone, so here i am."
mat.
you wanted to vomit.
"oh," you mumbled. "mat's here?"
tito nodded and gestured with his bottle to the bar. "he's over there talking to some brunette."
you followed with your eyes and when you finally locked eyes on him, you wished you hadn't.
he was talking to alexa, smiling at her the way you wished he'd smile at you.
maybe you could leave the bar and get hit by a taxi on the way out, that would be less painful than seeing the man you're in love with flirt with your friend.
"you okay?" anthony asked, nudging your leg with his foot.
you turned your gaze back to him and attempted to give him your most convincing smile. "i'm great!" you said before throwing your soda water back and coughing when the carbonation burned.
anthony didn't say a word.
when you looked back at the bar, alexa was nowhere to be found while mat was fiddling with one of his wristbands. you looked around to find alexa, thinking maybe she was in the crowd dancing or perhaps she was in line for the bathroom.
but she popped up at your table, sweaty and smiling.
"you good?" she asked before fixing her eyes on anthony who was sipping on his beer. "who's this?"
"anthony. i know him from work." tito gave her a small wave before taking another sip of his beer.
"alexa," she smiled before her attention focused back on you. "i actually met one of your coworkers, mat right?"
you forced a smile and nodded. "the one and only. what did you think?" though, to be fair, you didn't really want to know her opinion on him. not when you thought the world of him.
alexa shrugged and tossed her perfect hair over her perfect shoulder and gave a perfect smile that was a healthy balance of nonchalant and mildly interested. "he was alright, he knows he's attractive which is rather unattractive if you ask me."
tito choked on his beer while you stared in awe.
of all the words you'd use to describe mat, "alright" was not even close to the top 25.
"something funny?" alexa asked.
"nope," tito supplied, shaking his head. "nothing at all."
alexa looked at him, unconvinced, but didn't let it bother her. "i'm gonna go dance, you coming?" she asked.
you shook your head. "not really my scene."
alexa nodded and pranced off to the dance floor where the rest of your friends were grinding on strangers to the tune of some 2000s pop song.
"she's a delight," tito said.
you sighed. "she's practically miss america." you were too busy staring at her having fun to notice another person walk up to your booth until he was standing right in front of you with a question posed on the tip of his lips.
mat.
your mouth went dry at the sight of him.
"you know her?" he gestured over his shoulder to where alexa was laughing with one of your friends.
you nodded.
"are you two close?"
you shrugged.
mat sighed. "are you capable of speaking?"
tito spoke up. "mat, you just bombarded her without a single hello, chill."
mat pinched the bridge of his nose. "sorry, i just--she rejected me and i don't know why."
"you're too attractive and you know it," you blurted out before you could stop yourself. you quickly slapped a hand over your mouth like that would stop any other bullshit that might come out.
mat tilted his head and leaned in. "huh?"
"her words, not mine," you said like it would absolve you of any guilt.
"what do you mean by being 'too attractive' and 'knowing it'? how does that even make sense?"
you shrugged for what felt like the twelfth time that night. "alexa's not really into guys who are obsessed with their appearances. she just got out of a relationship with a guy like that," you explained.
mat ran a hand down his face before placing both hands on his waist. "so what do you suggest i do?" he groaned.
"i--"
he snapped his fingers and looked at you for what felt like the first time. it sent a chill down your spine that you had a problem suppressing. "can you help me?"
your mouth dropped open. "huh?"
"you're friends, right? can you help me win her over?"
you could list about a thousand other things you'd rather do. you could think of five just off the top of your head.
but he looked so earnest and willing and how could anyone possibly resist him when he looked at you like that--
"of course!" you smiled.
of course?! yes would've sufficed but now you've got him thinking you'd enjoy this. which you most certainly wouldn't.
oh who were you kidding? all attention was good attention when it came to mat barzal and you'd give anything to keep him looking at you.
"thank you!" he smiled before clapping tito on the shoulder. "ready to head out?"
anthony nodded before addressing you. "i had a nice time. see you tomorrow?"
you smiled and nodded, giving them both a small wave as they walked away. the second they were out the door, you thumped your head against the table.
playing wing-woman for mathew barzal.
what the fuck was wrong with you?
how to be a wing-woman: a guide
usually when you went to work, you kept your head down and stayed out of the way. occasionally, you'd run into anders or marty, or maybe even tito, who would say their polite hellos, but for the most part you stayed out of the way during practices.
you were looking at the photos you just took when someone banged on the glass. a quick glance (that turned into a double take) let you figure out it was mat based on the 13 on his jersey and the fact that you could pick him out of a crowd anywhere.
he waved and smiled (and you might've died inside). "can i talk to you after practice?"
you nodded frantically before gaining a semblance of self respect and slowing down.
"great! meet you outside of the locker rooms!" he said before skating away.
"what was that about?" tyler asked. you turned, not even realizing he'd made his way towards you considering you thought he was on the other side of the arena.
"what? can't i talk to the players?"
tyler laughed. actually laughed. "considering barzal has never so much as looked at you, i'd say him approaching you during practice is pretty strange."
your shoulders sunk at the weight of the truth. "if you must know," you started. "he wants to date one of my friends, so i'm helping him out."
tyler laughed again and walked away without saying another word while you scrolled through the photos you took again until practice ended.
you headed towards the locker rooms only when the last player had been off the ice for ten minutes, you didn't want to chance waiting around too long looking like an idiot.
as you waited, you made a mental note of all the editing you'd have to do when you got back to your cubicle. you got a few good shots earlier, but they'd need some tweaking before you sent them to the social media team. in fact--
"hey, what're you doing here?" you glanced up and saw anders, hair wet from whatever brief shower he took.
you shrugged, not sure if it was your place to give away mat's intentions. "just waiting around."
"for?" he pushed.
"barzy needs her to play wing-woman," tito said from over anders' shoulders. "he wants to get with her friend, but her friend isn't interested."
anders threw his head back and laughed. "barzy not getting a girl? that's fucking hilarious."
tito smirked. "tell him what your friend said" he told you.
"she doesn't like that he knows he's attractive," you mumbled.
if it was even possible, anders laughed even louder. "un-fucking-believable."
"what's so funny?" mat walked up, running a hand through his damp hair.
you said "nothing" at the same time anders asked "you got rejected, barzy?"
mat's face dropped before looking at you and tito accusingly. anthony sighed and nudged his best friend. "chill out, barz. she didn't bring it up, i did."
mat's shoulders relaxed before he punched tito in the arm. "dick," he mumbled.
anders looked between the three of you and sighed. "i don't have time for this shit," he said. "i'll see you later." and he was off down the hallway.
"so what's the plan for today?" tito asked.
"you're not included," mat said. his gaze focused on you. "can i have your number?"
you blinked. "what?"
mat laughed a little and you could feel heat and shame running up your spine. he asked you one fucking question and you had to go act like a weirdo. "so i can text you? i think we should sit down and create a strategy."
you nodded and read off your number as he typed it into his phone. "great," he gave you his megawatt smile. "i'll text you."
"okay," you breathed out as he walked away without a thought.
tito kept standing there, smirking to himself. "you're so fucked," he said.
you nodded because there was nothing else to say.
step one: talk him up
you and mat got lunch two days later on a saturday when he didn't have a game. it was rather surreal, sitting across from him in public. the delusional part of you was begging you to imagine this as a date instead of a meeting to set your friend up with mat.
when did your life turn into something so pathetic?
"okay," he started. "tell me about your friend."
you would rather do anything else.
"she just got out of a long term relationship with this guy named jared. he was a bit self absorbed which is probably why she didn't like you knowing how hot you are." you paused as the words left your mouth, ready to set yourself on fire if he reacted. but he didn't, he only leaned in closer to listen. "she uh--she likes daffodils and goes to the farmer's market at union square every saturday."
"but what's she like?" he asked. "what's her personality?"
how would you say she's the trademarked cool girl? the girl every guy wanted, that mat was one man in a long list of men who tried and failed to win her over.
"she's sweet and affectionate," you started. "she pretty girly on the outside but knows her way around a car. she grew up with three older brothers so she knows a fair bit about sports, just not hockey, but if you wanted to talk stats about football or basketball, she's your girl. in college, she held the record for fastest shotgun in her sorority."
you racked your brain for more information about your friend, but it was difficult under pressure to sum up someone you'd known since freshman year of college.
"what else?" mat asked.
"she's a bit of a partier, but knows how to settle down and just chill. she's a really good friend, like last year i dated this guy who was cheating on me the entire duration of our relationship, which i should've known about because he said he had to go on business trips all the time but he worked as a barista, and she held me while i cried for three days straight and even threatened to fuck up his car."
mat stared at you without saying anything in a way that made you want to sink into a hole, never to be seen again. "you dated a barista and thought he needed to go on business trips?"
you blinked. "that's what you got from that? me dating a shitty barista?"
he shrugged. "i heard everything else, but that was definitely the funniest part. how long did you date him?"
"six months," you replied quickly. "but that's not the point! alexa is going to play hard to get because she doesn't want anything too serious right now."
"great! neither do i!"
"but she's not a one night stand kind of girl anymore. so if you want her, you have to prove to her you can be serious enough for a relationship but not serious enough that you get clingy and overbearing and propose within six months."
mat blinked at you. "how the hell does that make sense?"
"believe me, there's a balance."
he sat back in his chair and crossed his arms. "and you would know this how?"
"well i uh--" you sputtered. your nerves were only encouraged by his light chuckling. "all girls know these things! we don't want overly possessive boyfriends but we also want someone to care. it shouldn't be that hard to comprehend."
"it's not," he defended. "just a little...complicated, don't you think?"
"alexa's a complicated girl!"
he sighed and ran a hand down his face. "okay so how do i show her i mean business but that i'm not looking to settle down and get married?"
"i guess i could talk you up to her in passing conversation?"
"what would you tell her? we don't know each other very well."
"i know more than you think!"
"please, share with the class."
shit.
do you confess that in the two years you'd worked for the islanders that you watched him borderline obsessively?
"well, i know you're good with kids, if your interactions with young fans is anything to go by. you don't like dogs, which is a bit of a red flag in my book, but alexa shouldn't mind. you're a fantastic hockey player, and a great teammate."
"is that enough to convince her?"
you grimaced and shook your head. "she's a bit more personable. she one time broke up with a guy because he was rude to waitstaff. she would want to know how you treat non millionaires and authority figures. for instance, how much do you tip a server?"
"25%," he replied. "but why does that matter?"
"alexa used to be a server throughout college and couldn't stand people who she knew had money but would cheap out on the tip because she didn't greet them fast enough."
mat opened his mouth, presumably to ask another question, when his phone started ringing. "shit," he mumbled. "listen, i gotta go. it was nice talking to you, i'll be in touch." he pulled out a few twenty dollar bills and put them on the table before getting up and walking away.
you waited for the server to come back before paying the bill and told them to keep the change before you got up and walked home.
when you got back to your apartment, alexa was already standing at the door, waiting to be let in.
"finally," she said. "i was wondering when you were gonna come home."
"you could've texted me," you said while unlocking the door.
she followed you inside and shut the door behind her. "i could've, but your phone was on do not disturb for some reason, so i doubt my texts would've gone through in time. where were you anyway?"
"getting lunch with a friend from work," you replied.
alexa groaned as she all but collapsed onto your couch. "please tell me it's not tyler. i hate how he treats you."
you dropped your bag by the door and headed back to your room, but not before calling over your shoulder. "he's not that bad, he's like that to everyone!"
"doesn't make it any better!"
you changed into some comfortable clothing before joining alexa on your couch. "did you have fun the other night when we went out to the bar?"
alexa looked at you weirdly.
shit. you must not have been as subtle as you thought.
"i did," she said. "but what makes you ask."
you shrugged. "i know it's been rough with your breakup lately, but i saw you talking to mat and you looked happy."
alexa groaned and sunk into the couch. "i thought we talked about this already. he knows he's attractive, it's such a turn off. you should've seen the way he was talking, it was like he knew that if he gave me a look, i'd be going home with him."
"well he's really nice, i promise! you should see him with kids at the stadium--"
"you mean the kids who idolize him? yeah i bet he's real nice to them."
okay, switch strategies.
"he tips waitstaff really well!"
"with what he makes? he better." alexa sighed. "listen, i'd be more impressed if he could tell me anything about you, but seeing as you've worked there for two years and he couldn't tell me anything other than your name the other night says all i need to know about him. so can we talk about something else?"
you nodded, ignoring the jutting pain in your chest at her words. you knew well enough that mat knew nothing about you, why would he? but to hear it come from the mouth of someone else stung.
getting them together was gonna be harder than you originally thought.
step two: get them interacting
you were dreading the next time you saw mat for the first time in your life. you were in your cubicle editing photos from the game that night to be posted tomorrow to distract yourself from the inevitable conversation you'd have to have with him. tyler, unfortunately got the shot that was posted immediately to the islanders' instagram account to celebrate their win over the rangers and he had no problem letting you know it. and while it was annoying, it served as a great distraction from your other problem.
"maybe you'll get it next time," he sneered as he packed his bag. most days you hated the fact that you were cubicle neighbors, but neither of you were powerful enough to request moving spaces. and even if you could, you knew it would just make you look hard to work with.
"have a good night, tyler," you replied, not even wanting to give him any ammo to use against you.
the door shut behind him with a click, locking you into sweet sweet silence.
until a minute later when your phone went off with a text message.
mat barzal: where ru?
mat barzal: wanna go to a bar with me and tito and you can bring alexa?
you scoffed. "you can bring alexa," you mocked under your breath. "like that's not the sole reason for you asking me to go out tonight." you packed your bag up and shot a quick text to alexa, asking if she wanted to go out. she replied with an immediate yes, asking where to meet you, which prompted you to reach out to mat who sent you an address in response.
which is how you ended up on a sidewalk in front of an incredibly busy bar with alexa next to you.
"i've never been here," she remarked. "how'd you hear about it?"
"oh, a coworker mentioned it," you said in what was hopefully a nonchalant manner.
she looked at you a moment too long before grabbing your hand and pulling you inside. "you find us a place to sit and i'll grab our drinks!" she shouted over the music.
you quickly looked around for mat and tito, the former who'd texted you the second they arrived. you saw a head of dark hair and immediately knew it was mat. you hurried over, panting when you arrived from having to shove your way towards them.
"you made it!" anthony said. you looked at him and mat, eyes bouncing back and forth between them, when you realized your first problem.
they were sitting on opposite sides of the booth.
which meant you would have to sit with one of them, and alexa would have to sit with the other. if mat had it his way, he'd sit next to alexa, but you knew your friend wouldn't have that. she'd feel manipulated and uncomfortable.
"is there a problem?" tito asked.
you gestured to the booth. "alexa will want to sit by me. she's still not convinced about you, mat."
mat, to his credit, didn't look shocked or offended, he just shrugged and moved to tito's side. "this work?" he asked as you sat down.
you nodded.
"so what's the plan? how should i approach this?" he asked.
"keep the conversation on her, when she tries to turn it on you or about your career, focus on other people, applaud your teammates, your coaches, but whatever you do, don't talk about yourself too much. she already thinks you have a big ego."
"to be fair," tito started. "he does."
mat didn't even dignify that with a response. "so keep the conversation on her and others, got it."
alexa found you a moment later and didn't do a great job covering up her disinterest in sitting with mat and beau.
"i couldn't find anywhere to sit," you explained.
alexa didn't buy it if her eyes bouncing around the bar to find empty tables said anything. but she sat next to you anyway, placing your drink in front of you.
"you remember mat and anthony from the other night, right?" you asked.
she just hummed and took a sip of her drink.
"so, alexa," mat started. "what do you do for a living?"
she stared at him and sighed. "i'm a vet tech," she said, but offered no other information.
"she especially loves the cats," you added.
"cats are great!" mat said a little too enthusiastically.
alexa drained the rest of her glass and got up, leaving the three of you behind.
the second she was gone, beau broke into laughter, slapping his own chest. "that was fucking hilarious," he said.
"yeah yeah yeah, laugh it up," mat grumbled, swirling his cup around instead of making eye contact with anyone.
"i'm serious, i don't think i've ever seen you fail so quickly. it's kind of amazing."
mat focused his eyes on you. "what did i do wrong? i tried asking about her life and she seemed wholly uninterested."
you shrugged. "i don't know! maybe she feels cornered?"
tito took a sip of his beer. "i think you need to workshop this. clearly, neither of you thought this through."
you groaned and rested your head on the table.
this was already harder than you anticipated.
step three: reevaluate and regroup
you met mat in a booth of a coffee shop after you got off work. he was staring at his phone when you walked in, completely unaware that you even existed.
which wasn't abnormal considering you didn't even think he knew who you were a few months ago. but the second the barista called your order out, his head whipped up.
you could've sworn time stopped at that moment.
you made your way towards him and plopped down in the booth opposite of him.
"hi," you smiled. "what's up?"
"i don't know what to do, she doesn't seem interested in me." he groaned into his hands before running one of them through his hair.
god he was so attractive.
you snapped out of your reverie. "listen, you've got what it takes, we just need to reevaluate our strategy. i think the bar thing was a bad idea, she felt ambushed and it probably set us back a little, but i have an idea."
he leaned his forearms on the table. "let's hear it."
"practice dates," you said.
mat blinked once. twice. a third time before he spoke. "practice dates?"
"okay hear me out," you said, pulling a notepad out of the bag you brought. "i have a list of things that alexa likes to do and i was thinking, you and i can do them and work on conversations and how to approach her. so when the time comes, you don't feel out of your element."
"who said i feel out of my element?"
you stared at him. "you said last night 'cats are great!' and expected conversation to flow naturally."
"okay so not my best moment."
"not even close." you sighed. "listen, i wanna help you, and i feel like this is your best bet in winning her over."
mat ran a hand down his face. "okay fine. what's the first date?"
practice date one: pumpkin patch
to be quite frank, you were nervous when proposing the idea, scared that he wouldn't be willing to sit in a car with you for three hours just to get to the pumpkin patch. and maybe he would find it childish.
when in fact, he said nothing about the long car ride, he even offered to pick you up from your apartment, and laughed when you offered to pay for gas. when you finally arrived, you jumped out of mat's car like an excited child. mat stepped out like he knew he was the romantic lead in a movie, suave and collected.
you two could not be more opposite of each other.
it took everything in you to focus on the task at hand, and not fall deeper in love with him. but how could you not? when he looked so boyfriend in a coat and flannel and beanie and jeans that hugged his thighs just right--
you were getting ahead of yourself. you were doing this for mat and alexa, not your own selfish ambition.
"so what's the plan?" he asked after locking his car with the key fob.
you shrugged. "what would you do if you were here with alexa?" the words tasted bitter in your mouth. it was such a painful reminder, knowing that this wasn't real and was in service to hook him up with your friend.
mat looked around and shoved his hands in his pockets. "corn maze?" he pointed. you must've made a face because he spoke up again. "what?"
"alexa hates corn mazes."
he paused. "to the pumpkin patch then?" you nodded and followed his lead. "so how did you meet alexa?"
"she was my first roommate in college, we shared the smallest dorm in history."
"that sounds like an exaggeration."
"says the man who never went to college."
he laughed. "i don't need a college education to identify a hyperbole when i hear one."
you gasped and looked at him with wide eyes. "a hyperbole? what a word."
"laugh it up," he said. "but i'm not a complete idiot, you know."
"never said you were. i just haven't heard anyone use hyperbole in a sentence outside of my english lit classes."
"well, you should know i'm full of surprises."
the two of you approached the pumpkin patch and started weaving between families and the occasional rogue toddler. mat had to tug you out of the way a few times when you about stepped on a child because you were gazing at pumpkins.
"if you don't mind me asking," mat started. "why are you helping me? you don't owe me anything. i feel like i'm taking advantage of your kindness."
you shrugged. "you wouldn't be the first one."
"what's that supposed to mean?" you looked up from the pumpkin patch to see mat's brows furrowed together and his mouth twisted in a cute frown.
"well, i mean, i've been told i have a habit of being a doormat at times."
"who said that?" his tone had changed to a softer one.
"huh?" you asked.
"who called you a doormat?"
you shrugged again, that seemed to be your go to move around him. you squatted down to look at a particularly fat pumpkin, inspecting all sides of it before you responded. "i've heard it all my life, some have said it in meaner ways, others have been nicer about it."
"i'm sorry," he said.
you stood to your full height which was still much shorter than mat's. "why? it's not like it's not true."
"what if i helped you?"
it was your turn to frown. "help me? with what? ice skating?"
mat rolled his eyes. "no, with confidence. maybe even get you a date."
you guffawed, mouth opening and closing like a fish. "what?"
mat pulled you out of the way of yet another child and kept his hand on your elbow until you were clear of the pumpkin roots. and if your heart stopped for a few seconds, that was your business, no one else's. "you heard me. you're young, single, and attractive and you spend all your free time at the office or DDing for your friends. we can work on your confidence and get you out there."
"i don't know..." though your mind was still focused on the fact that he'd called you attractive.
"what about that other photographer guy? tony?"
you cackled. straight up burst into laughter. "tyler? that's fucking hilarious mat."
"what?" the two of you continued down the patch, occasionally gazing at the pumpkins, but mostly just talking. "you two are always talking."
talking or being insulted?
you shook your head. "enough about me, we're here for alexa."
mat nudged you with his elbow. "actually we're here for me to win alexa over."
you kicked a small stone with the toe of your shoe and said nothing. the tragedy of your own personal situation wasn't lost on you, neither was the idiocy of your plan. what were you thinking, spending your free time with mat? to win over your friend?
it was textbook self inflicted torture.
"where'd you go?" mat nudged you again. "i lost you there for a second."
you bent down and picked up a smaller pumpkin. "what do you think about this one?"
"it looks fine. you're ignoring my question."
you juggled the pumpkin back and forth in your hands to determine if you liked it or not. "what question?" you looked up just in time to see mat roll his eyes, but he dropped the topic anyway.
the both of you walked over to the stall to pay for the pumpkin. you reached into your tote bag to grab your wallet, but mat was already holding out a five dollar bill to the vendor.
"you didn't have to--"
"do you wanna get some cider?"
you could've started drooling at the idea of drinking cider. "yes!"
mat chuckled and started walking towards the cider stand where a small family waited in front of you. "does alexa like cider?" he asked.
"what a random question."
"well you're not giving me anything to work with!"
you almost groaned. because he was right. you got caught up in the idea of hanging out with mat outside of work that you forgot the real reason both of you were there in the first place.
"she loves cider, especially when it's spiked. she also loves mulled wine." mat scrunched his face up. "not a fan?" you asked.
"warm wine? no thank you."
mat paid for the cider, going as far as having the cash ready before you could even order.
"you really don't have to keep buying things. i can pay!"
"oh this is all a bribe to get you to go through that corn maze with me."
your face dropped. "alexa doesn't like mazes."
"so i won't go with her next time, but you're here now and i wanna go."
you let him drag you along until you were in the thick of the maze. you let him guide the both of you through it like he knew what he was doing even though you were pretty sure you hit every possible dead end in the maze.
two little kids ran past giggling and smiling. "we found the end, mama!"
you almost laughed at the look of irritation on mat's face.
it took an obscene amount of time to get through the maze, and mat was in a much worse mood when it was all over.
needless to say, the ride home was quiet.
practice date 2: dinner at mat's
you weren't quite sure what mat was planning on making for dinner, but you were willing to bet the smell of smoke wasn't a part of the plan.
the scene when you walked into his apartment could only be described as chaotic. the smoke detector was going off and when you walked into the kitchen, mat was going between waving a towel under the detector and opening every window in his kitchen.
"you weren't supposed to be here yet!" he shouted over the noise before darting past you into the living room to open the windows in there.
you dropped your things on the counter and took over waving the towel under the smoke detector.
"what happened?" you asked.
"i suck at cooking!" he came back in the kitchen and took the towel from you. "i'm taller," he said like that was an explanation.
the beeping ceased and left the two of you in a hazy apartment. when you looked around the kitchen, you saw what had to be charred meat and veggies in a skillet.
"okay so when you cook dinner for alexa, don't. just hire a chef."
mat held up his phone. "or order pizza. you in?"
"do i get to financially contribute?"
he gestured to your belongings on the counter, one of which was a bottle of red wine. "you already did."
"you can't keep buying everything," you said. "it's not fair."
"why not? i'm the millionaire here, i'd look like a dick if i made you pay for anything. besides, when i date alexa, it's not like i'm gonna let my girlfriend pay."
girlfriend.
right.
that was the end goal for him.
you kept forgetting.
you cleared your throat and dusted your hands on your pants despite them being clean.
"you can go pick out a movie or something while i order the pizza?" mat suggested.
you had no choice but to nod and wander into his moderately decorated living room. it definitely still looked like a bachelor pad, but if a bachelor had enough money to hire someone to say he needed artwork, decorative pillows, and a couch that wasn't brown.
you were scrolling through netflix when mat came into the living room and plopped on the sectional beside you, shucking his shoes off. why he was wearing shoes in his own apartment was beyond you, but you weren't one to judge.
"you look nice," he commented, as if just noticing you for the first time that night.
you looked down at your own outfit. it was a pair of jeans and a nice blouse. "this?"
"are you wearing something else that i'm not seeing?" he teased.
before you could die of embarrassment, you switched subjects. "what do you want to watch? i haven't made a decision yet." you handed the remote to him, hating being the one to make the decisions.
he shifted on the couch so he was sitting up instead of lounging on the chaise and took the remote. "what's alexa's favorite movie?"
"birdbox."
mat did a double take. "she likes birdbox?"
you shrugged. "she's into suspense."
mat was about to select birdbox until he took one look on your face. you don't know what you looked like but it made him pause. "but are you?"
"why do you care what i like?"
"because you're here, alexa's not. i don't wanna make you watch something you'd hate." mat shifted on the couch. "why don't we work on those dating tips i talked to you about."
"oh i don't think--"
"why not?" he asked. "you're always so jittery whenever we talk about it."
oh.
was he referring to the other day after practice when he saw tyler tormenting you and mat misinterpreted that as flirty banter? mat had come up to you afterwards to give you pointers but you practically ran away.
"it's not that simple, mat."
"i think it is."
you threw your hands up. "well then, by all means you must be right."
"what's with the attitude?" he asked. "did i say something?"
it was a good question. one that shouldn't make you want to cry, but life felt overwhelming in all the worst ways. between tyler harassing you every second of every day and pretending like you weren't in love with mat so you could set him up with your friend, and taking photos for games and practices, you were exhausted.
"i'm not sober enough for this," you said before getting up and popping the cork on the wine bottle and drinking straight from it.
it was another thirty minutes before the pizza arrived and the both of you were well on your way to wine drunk, you more so than mat. who could blame you though? your life was a sad excuse for a single twenty-something and you were tired of thinking about it.
"truth is," mat started with a mouth full of pizza. "you just need to act like you're the best thing that's ever happened to this city. guys love confident women."
"and that's your biggest issue with alexa right now."
"wanna switch personalities?"
you laughed.
"what?" he asked. "what's so funny?"
"i'm trying to picture you without an ego and i don't think it's possible."
mat rolled his eyes but had a smile on his lips anyway. it shouldn't have made your heart pound the way it did, but you were weak for that man, you had been since day one.
so you switched courses.
"okay," you started. "how do i make get a guy to wanna date me?"
mats eyes nearly bugged out of his head. "you're serious?"
you nodded. "as a heart attack."
mat sat up on the couch and faced you. his eyes scanned your face like he was looking for something but couldn't find it. maybe he was looking for a reason to change the subject.
"alright," he said. "you gotta be confident, even if you don't feel like it. most guys don't mind a little insecurity, they find it kinda cute, but a guy who wants an insecure girl is a red flag."
"should i be taking notes or...?" you took a large sip of your wine and smiled when mat rolled his eyes again.
"secondly, you can't be hiding behind your camera all the time."
you guffawed. "i do not hide behind my camera!"
"oh give me a break, you totally do! you walk around like it's a safety blanket or something."
"because it is!"
"exactly my point! thirdly, chivalry isn't dead. if he's not doing basic things like opening doors, walking on the closest side to the street, and he's only talking about himself? run."
"what? he can't be a good person if he doesn't do those things?"
"if he can't do a basic kind gesture, he's not going to do larger ones. sorry. i don't make the rules."
you blinked. "but you kinda are making the rules for me, right now."
"you're such a smart ass, just like tito."
"is that a good or bad thing?"
mat shrugged and took another bite of pizza. "hard to say, i love tito most days."
love.
don't be an idiot and read into things.
"so," mat leaned back into the couch. "i gave you advice, it's my turn. how do i win over alexa?"
you thought back to the conversation you had with her a few weeks ago about mat. and one comment stuck out the most. "i think the biggest sin you committed was not knowing anything about me despite working together for two years," you admitted shyly.
mat's brows furrowed in that cute way they always did. "what do you mean?"
"she said she's not impressed by you being nice to kid fans or tipping waitstaff. she would be impressed if you knew anything about me because i'm not a hockey player."
mat recoiled as if physically struck by your words. "she thinks that low of you?"
"no she didn't mean to say you were--" you paused. "me? you think she has a low opinion of me?"
mat crossed his arms. "she just insinuated that you weren't important enough for me to know."
"no! that's not what she meant! she was saying that you think you're better than me."
"that's not even remotely true." and he said it so confidently, you almost believed him. "it's not, you know that right?"
you hesitated and you might as well have punched him in the gut.
mat said your name so softly like it was precious. like it was something special. "you have to know, i have never, not once, believed you were beneath me."
you gave him a small smile. "you don't need to explain yourself to me, mat."
he reached over and grabbed your hand, tugging on it lightly. "no. i need you to know, you are important to me."
your heart fluttered at his words, or maybe it was the fact that you were holding hands and you could feel the calluses rub against your own palm.
you could've stayed there forever.
"jesus fucking christ, why does it smell like something burned in here?" the front door opened and slammed sending you and mat sprawling apart like you hadn't been locked in a staring contest and holding hands. tito rounded the corner and crossed his arms, a smug expression on his face. "what do we have here?"
"nothing!" you squeaked out. "i was just leaving!"
"no you weren't," mat started, eyes wide with an emotion you couldn't place. "beau was just leaving."
you looked as confused as tito was. "what? no i'm not." you glanced back at mat who could not have looked more annoyed if he tried. "or i can...?"
"no!" you said. "i need to get going anyway. got work tomorrow, long day."
mat stood up when he realized there was no convincing you. "i can walk you out--"
"don't worry about it! i'm a big girl." you were leaving when you heard whisper shouting. you couldn't fully make out what they were saying, but before you shut the front door behind you, you could've sworn you heard them mention "liking her."
you did your best not to let the talking break your heart even more.
practice date 3: ice skating
you made mat pick out the last date but he hadn't told you what it was, just asked for your shoe size.
aside from that?
radio silence.
maybe you should've seen this coming. you'd talked to alexa a few days ago and she'd suggested that maybe you should put yourself out there more, find a date, find a boyfriend, find some happiness.
after practice, you found yourself scrolling through your camera roll in one of the seats in the arena when a pair of skates came into your peripheral. you looked up expecting to see a mop of black hair and hazel eyes.
but it was tito with a sheepish grin on his face.
"hey," he said.
you put your camera down and smiled. it was always good to see tito, with the exception of the other night. "hey, what can i do for you?"
anthony playfully rolled his eyes. "you don't live to serve us," he said. "i don't need anything, just wanted to say hi."
"hi!" you smiled even brighter.
"i was wondering, what're you doing friday night?"
you jaw dropped. and it must've been funny because tito threw his head back and laughed. "what?"
tito smiled at you and gestured towards you. "i was wondering if you'd want to get dinner with me on friday. i don't know what time you get off work, but i was thinking 6:30?"
you blinked. you blinked again. "are you serious?"
"why wouldn't i be? you're attractive, single, and i like your company. i think we'd have a fun time."
"okay," you smiled again. have you ever smiled this much in your life? you were unsure. "okay yeah, friday at 6:30 is perfect."
"great," tito grinned. "can i have your number?" you handed your phone over rather quickly, watching as he typed his number in and texted himself. "i'll see you," he said.
"bye tito!" you waved until he was out of sight. and even then, you continued to stare at the spot he was once occupying.
"what the hell was that about?"
you jumped about a foot in the air when tyler made his comment from over your shoulder. "jesus fucking christ, tyler." you placed a hand over your heart to feel how rapidly it was beating. "are you some sort of lurker?"
"what did beauvillier want with you?" he condescended.
"it's none of your business." you rolled your eyes when your phone buzzed.
mat barzal: come down to the locker room.
"who is that?" he asked, peering over your shoulder, but you stood up and started walking away.
the both of you headed down to the locker rooms, though you weren't really enjoying the company. tyler kept talking about your lackluster photography skills like the both of you didn't have the exact same job title.
you were rounding the corner when you saw mat leaning up against the wall, still in his hockey gear. tyler, being confronted with an audience, immediately departed. if you had to guess, he probably went back to his office to scheme how else to make your life miserable.
"hey," you said as you approached. "what's up?"
mat reached down and tossed a duffle bag at your feet. "open the bag," he directed.
you squatted and opened the zipper to see a pair of ice skates. you looked up at mat who looked pleased with himself. "what're these for?"
"you ever been ice skating?" he asked.
the short answer? no.
the long answer? once in second grade for a field trip.
"kinda?" you said instead.
mat laughed, like an actual laugh. there was a shiver that went down your spine at the very sound of it. "it's a yes or no question."
"i would say yes, but i was like eight."
"yeah, doesn't really count anymore. grab the bag, let's go." he walked off without a second thought, leaving you scrambling with the bag and rushing after him.
"what's the point of this?" you called after him.
"you told me to pick the last date, this is it!"
you stopped walking immediately. "mat, i don't know if this is a good idea..."
as if sensing your hesitation, mat turned around and walked back towards you. he rested his hands on your shoulders and squeezed lightly, ducking his head down towards yours. "i'm not gonna let anything bad happen to you, i promise. you have nothing to be afraid of."
"what if my boss sees? what if lou sees? i'm a lot more replaceable than you are."
mat scoffed. "first of all, you're not replaceable. second of all, it's gonna be fine. i'll take all the heat if we get in trouble, which we won't because it's not a big deal." he reached down and grabbed your hand that wasn't holding the duffle bag. "now c'mon."
he led you out to the bench where you sat down and placed your camera on the bench. "take your shoes off and put these socks on." he tossed a pair of socks at your head that you barely caught in time.
"but i'm already wearing socks," you said.
"these are longer, unless you want the boot to cut into your ankle."
safe to say, you put the socks on.
mat knelt in front of you to help put the skates on, tying them up so they were secure on your feet.
you wanted to swoon at the sight of him before you. thankfully, he stood up and helped you to your feet before you could start imagining anything preposterous.
like him proposing.
you watched as mat slid over the top of the bench railing and onto the ice. he turned around and looked at you expectantly.
"oh hell no," you said. "where's the door, i'll use the door."
he cackled as you walked and opened the door, but skated to you anyway to give you some assistance when stepping onto the ice.
"easy does it," he said, chuckling when your grip was practically crushing his fingers. "you're okay, i'm not gonna let you fall."
"it's not you i don't trust, it's me."
mat kept a grip on your hands and led you out to the center of the ice. on the way to the center, you slipped twice, a squeak leaving your lips. you quickly latched onto mat who only laughed at your death grip on his forearms.
"it's not funny," you whined. "i'm terrified."
"you're right, it's not funny. but it is cute." he removed your hands from his arms and skated away from you. "okay, now come to me."
he was easily twenty feet away.
you glanced down at the ice and then back at mat. you would've sat down if you knew how to without eating it. "mat, i'm telling you right now, that's not gonna happen."
"it's not that hard."
"you've been skating since you were a child. i have not." you attempted to take a step forward, but thought differently of it. "besides, how does this help you with alexa?"
"easy," he said. "if i can teach you to skate, i can teach anyone."
"so your idea of a romantic date is a girl busting her ass over and over for an hour?"
"not quite," he said, skating circles around you.
literally.
"you're being an ass,' you whined. "why did the one practice date you pick out have to do with hockey?"
"because it's what i love. and if a girl can't hang with it, our relationship is doomed to fail."
you rolled your eyes. "that's a bit dramatic. you can appreciate and love hockey without having to ice skate. thousands of fans do it all the time."
"but my girlfriend won't be just a fan, now will she?"
your heart sank at the idea of alexa and mat in a similar situation. alexa actually trying to skate and looking beautiful while doing so. you pictured them laughing as she slipped and mat catching her before she could fall.
"you okay? i lost you again." mat skated right up to you, leaving maybe a foot of space between the two of you.
"yeah," you breathed. "just thinking."
mat smirked and skated backwards. "uh oh. that can't be good. less thinking more skating. would it help if i pushed you?"
"no!" you shrieked. "it definitely wouldn't!"
but it was too late. mat was skating up behind you and placing his hands on your waist. "relax," he murmured. "i'm not gonna push you without a little guidance."
relax?
relax?
when his hands were on your waist and he was mumbling in your ear?
how the hell was anyone supposed to live, laugh, love in these conditions?
mat added a little pressure to your back. and suddenly you were moving. "that's it," he praised. "now just move your feet."
it was easier with mat's hands on you, the sensation forcing you to focus on the warmth of his palms than the fact that you were skating on sharp knives.
"see? this isn't so bad, right?"
it wasn't too terribly bad, truth be told it was just like roller skating, just ten times scarier.
"yeah," you said. "not too bad."
"so you're ready to go by yourself?" his hands starting slipping away, leaving a burning sensation in their wake.
"i--"
but he was already skating away. he stopped about twenty feet away and smiled. "skate to me."
"mat--" your voice shook at the idea. skating with him was one thing, skating to him was another.
"hey," he said quietly. "eyes on me, okay? i'm not gonna let you fall, if i think you're gonna fall, i'll catch you. i was the fastest skater in 2020, remember?"
you nodded. "just like roller skating," you mumbled.
"except better," mat added.
you took a deep breath and put one foot in front of the other, slowly but surely gliding towards him. you started picking up pace the closer you got to him.
"mat?"
"you're doing great!" he smiled.
"i don't know how to stop!"
mat laughed even as he caught you. his arms gripped your biceps and his smile was a mile wide. "you okay?" he asked.
you couldn't help but smile. "yeah," you breathed.
there was hardly any room between the two of you. your heart was beating wildly in your chest at the proximity, the rush of skating alone, who knew? you surely didn't.
you looked into his eyes and could've sworn his gaze dropped to your chin, but you were known for your hopeless romantic delusions, so maybe--
"hey!" whatever trance you were in ended when you saw a man in coveralls standing at the end of the rink. "time's up, i gotta clean the ice!"
"sorry!" mat called. "we'll get out of your way!" he gently took your hand in his and skated the both of you back to the benches.
mat helped you take off your skates and walked you back up the tunnel towards the locker rooms. the both of you stopped just outside of them, considering mat still had to shower and go home while you had the rest of the day to do your work.
"this was really fun," you said. "terrifying but fun."
"i'm glad you enjoyed it." his smile just about made you collapse into a puddle.
but you got a grip on reality and nodded. "well, i hope this helps with alexa, i'll try to talk to her in the next day or so, see where her head is."
mat's jaw clenched but he nodded. "i'll be seeing you."
"bye, mat."
you might as well have been on cloud nine by the time you got up to your office. you were in a different zone, focused on the way that mat's hands felt on your body, in your own hand. the feeling of euphoria wouldn't leave your body, you were sure of it. nothing could take that feeling away.
until you got to your desk and saw tyler.
who was sitting on your desk and using a paper clip to get the dirt out from under his nails.
"what were you and barzal doing?" tyler asked, moving off your desk, instead choosing to lean up against the cubicle.
you ignored him.
"i asked you a question," he said.
"i heard you, tyler. but i have work to do." you signed into your computer and plugged your camera in, ready to start uploading and editing photos from practice and the game yesterday.
“do you really think sleeping your way through the roster will help you get your pics chosen for the social media accounts?” he sneered.
you froze, your fingers hovered over the keyboard. "what?"
"i said--"
"don't repeat it." another voice joined in and when you turned around to see who came in, you were flabbergasted.
mat.
"barzal i--"
"where do you get off talking to her like that? talking to anyone like that?" he stepped into the room, chest puffed out.
in all of your time working for the isles, mat had never been much of a fighter, but he looked ready to pummel tyler if need be.
"mat, it's fine," you mumbled.
"no, it's not. is this how he normally talks to you?"
you said nothing.
that only seemed to make mat angrier. "you need to go to HR about this. this is workplace harassment. now apologize," he directed at tyler.
"for what? speaking the truth? is this how you think you can get ahead in life?" tyler said to you. "first beauvillier now barzal?"
you and mat both froze. in the corner of your eye you could see his jaw clench before he looked at you.
"can you do your work from home?" he asked.
you nodded. "i just have a shit ton of editing but i can do that on my laptop--"
"great. i'll take you home."
"but my boss-"
"if anyone has a problem with it, they can talk to me. let's go." mat was spinning on his heel and walking out of the room as quickly as he came in. you were unplugging your camera and logging off your computer, packing up your things, before sprinting after him.
"mat! mat, wait up!"
he stopped walking and looked at you, an unfamiliar expression in his eyes. "can you wait for me outside the locker room? i still have to shower and change."
you nodded. "why did you come upstairs anyway?"
"to give you the skates." you glanced down at his empty hands. "i forgot the bag, and by that point, i was too lazy to go down and get them without you."
the both of you continued your walk until you got to the locker room.
"i'll be a few minutes and then i'll take you home."
true to his word, mat was only gone for ten minutes before coming out freshly showered and ready to go home. neither of you spoke until he was pulling the car out of the parking garage.
"what did tyler mean when he mentioned tito?" mat asked after moments of silence. his fists were gripping the wheel tightly, though you didn't know why.
"tito asked me to dinner on friday."
mat's fists tightened their grip on the wheel and his jaw clenched so hard, you were afraid he was going to chip some teeth.
"oh." was all he said.
"something wrong? i just figured for once i wouldn't be hiding behind my camera like you said and i thought it would be fun, you know? we get along fine. why? do you think i shouldn't go?"
"no!" mat said quickly. "no, i just, it just caught me by surprise is all. i'm sure you'll have fun."
"and i can give you alexa's number if you want to ask her out! she's coming over tonight so i can talk you up now that i know more about you, make it seem more genuine."
"yeah," he choked out. "yeah, that would be great."
mat pulled up to your apartment a few minutes later and watched as you got out. "i meant what i said in your office," he said. "you need to tell HR about tyler's behavior."
"i will." you probably wouldn't. "thanks, mat."
he nodded as you shut the door and waited for you to go inside before driving off.
you walked up the stairs to your apartment and unlocked the door. as you shut the door behind you, you felt the weight of today bearing down.
tito asking you out.
the moments with mat.
the slut shaming comment from tyler.
when did your life get so dramatic?
step 4: get her to say yes
you had alexa over that night, armed with a million reasons why she should say yes to mat.
and the one reason why she should say no was locked deep in your chest. your happiness and affection for him shouldn't deter her.
besides, you would eventually get over your silly little crush, right?
right?
"so what's new in your world? i feel like you've been so busy lately. it's kind of strange," alexa said before shoveling a forkful of pasta in her mouth. it should've been disgusting, but she made it look graceful.
"oh you know, just working."
"is that why you were in the middle of nowhere a few weeks ago? work?"
"what?"
"i checked your location, you were on a farm. didn't realize the isles was doing photoshoots that far out of the city."
"oh they're not," you explained. "i was with mat, we were just hanging out."
alexa blinked. "since when do you and mat hang out?"
ouch.
but true.
you couldn't come out and say it could you? that the reason the two of you started interacting was because he wanted to date alexa?
no, you couldn't.
so you lied.
"oh, the social media team wanted me to get some information on mat, like a get to know you segment. they wanted something outside of work, so we were just hanging out so i could write this article on him."
a complete lie. you haven't had to write anything on anyone since your college journalism class. but alexa didn't know that. you never told her what you do all day for work. for all she knew, you could be running the tiktok account.
alexa raised an eyebrow. "and how did that go? was he talking about himself the entire time?"
"no!" you said. but then you paused, realizing that getting defensive would just look suspicious. "he told me a lot about how he doesn't like mulled wine and loves corn mazes despite being absolutely shitty at them. he loves his friends and hockey, obviously. he refuses to let anyone pay for anything while you're with him because he has money and likes to treat people. and he sticks up for the people that are important to him. and once you're in with him, you don't have to worry about your place in his life or how important you are because he will keep reminding you."
alexa stared at you. "are you sure you don't want to go out with him?"
you guffawed and hoped that it covered up your embarrassment. "what? no! he's clearly into you, and i think you should go for it."
"give me one good reason why."
"because he's kind, and nothing like your ex. he cares, legitimately cares about people and their lives." you sighed, not sure if you were convincing her. “it’s just one date, lex. if you don’t like him at least you got a free meal.”
alexa chewed her lip, letting you anguish in silence. "fine. you can give him my number and we'll set up a date. i trust you."
"fantastic!" you were already pulling your phone out. "he'll be so excited--"
"only if you can look me in the eye and tell me you don't have feelings for him."
you opened and closed your mouth. "i don't have feelings for him," you said with as much confidence as you could.
"honey..."
"no! i don't! if i had feelings for him, would i be going out to dinner with his best friend on friday?"
alexa didn't look fully convinced, but your date with tito was a welcomed distraction as she started rattling off questions about what you would wear and where he was taking you.
alexa left two hours later, meaning you could go to bed at a reasonable hour. as you laid in bed, you grabbed your phone and opened mat's contact, drafting a text to him.
here's alexa's number. managed to convince her you were worth a shot. xxx-xxx-xxxx.
you locked your phone and put it on do not disturb before you could see his response.
when you woke up the next morning, you saw mat had simply liked the message and left it at that.
by noon, alexa texted you that her date with mat was on saturday.
step 5: let the dates begin
friday came faster than you were anticipating. you kept your distance from mat, unable to look at him without thinking about how he was taking your friend out the very next day and that your interactions from that point on would probably be through alexa.
tyler kept his distance, must've been the threat of going to HR (that you still hadn't gone through with) that had him treating you like a human being with feelings.
as for tito, you probably should've been more excited for your date that night, but all you could focus on was how mat and alexa would fall in love and get married and have beautiful babies and grow old together.
and you would be the sucker who set them up because you could never tell mat no.
a slam against the boards startled you enough to look up from your camera to see tito standing there with a smile on his face.
"you okay?" he asked over the sounds of his teammates on the ice.
you gave him what you hoped was a convincing smile and nodded. but he rolled his eyes.
"we'll talk later," he said before skating away. you smiled and waved at him before you made eye contact with mat who was clenching his jaw. at what? you weren't sure. you even turned around to see if tyler had entered the arena, but you were standing alone.
like you always were.
you were headed back to your desk to do some editing as practice let out, but your name was called before you could get away.
when you looked over your shoulder, you saw tito doing an awkward half jog half walk towards you with a tired grin on his face. "hey," he said. "how do you think practice went?"
you turned to face him fully. "you're asking me? a professional asking some photographer how practice went?"
tito rolled his eyes. "oh c'mon. you've seen our practices, by now you should be able to determine whether or not it was a good one."
"well, no one fought each other, so i guess that's a win."
tito shook his head. "nah, that's when the best practices happen. when everyone's pissed at each other."
you smiled. "shows what i know."
"i think you know more than you think. you've worked here for awhile now."
"i've just gotten better at motion capture photography and following the puck around the ice. doesn't mean i know shit about hockey."
"don't think we don't notice you getting riled up during games when calls are missed."
you tilted your head and furrowed your brows. "we?"
tito shrugged and laughed to himself. "mat usually points it out before i can." you must've made a face because he added more. "it's usually on the bench, he's focused on the game when he's playing."
the both of you turn your heads at the other players walking down the tunnel. when the both of you caught sight of mat, tito smiled.
"will you send me your address? so i can pick you up?"
your attention snapped back to tito. "yeah! of course!"
he nodded and started his walk towards the locker rooms right when mat walked up to you. "what was that about?" he asked.
you shrugged. "just going over details for tonight. he needs my address to pick me up."
mat clenched his jaw again and looked down the tunnel, nodding his head. "that's tonight?"
"yep. at 6:30."
he wouldn't meet your eyes. instead, he looked at your shoes, your camera, the hallway, his teammates, but would never look at your face.
"you and alexa go out tomorrow, right? where are you taking her?"
he ran a hand through his hair and nodded at anders as he passed by. "yeah, we're going out to this sushi place. did you ever talk to HR?"
"well no but--"
"do i need to talk to HR?"
"he really hasn't been that bad lately--"
"because i threatened to tell HR on his ass. he's gonna get comfortable and start insulting you again. it's just a matter of time."
you nodded, feeling a lump in your throat form at the idea of mat scolding you, in front of his teammates no less.
mat sighed and ran a hand through his hair again. "i'm not trying to fuss or tell you what to do, i just don't like seeing you treated like that."
"thanks, mat," you mumbled.
he still wouldn't meet your eyes, instead looking down the hallway to see most of his team in the locker room. "i gotta go, but um, good luck tonight. beau's a good guy."
with that he turned on his skates and walked away.
you felt every bit of pathetic as you watched him go.
that night, you settled on a pretty dress that wasn't too fancy, seeing as the only details tito had given you were that it was nicer than an olive garden but not a michelin star restaurant. you were strapping yourself into your heels when you heard a knock on the door.
your phone said it was only 6:15, but maybe tito was accounting for traffic. he never did specify when the reservation was.
"coming!" you called as you put your last heel on and made your way to the door. "i wasn't expecting you this early, you never told me when the reservation was--" your voice trailed off when you opened the door and saw who was standing on the other side.
mat.
he looked more disheveled than you'd ever seen him. it was clear he'd been running his hands through his hair repeatedly just by the strands sticking out every which way.
he still looked handsome.
"mat, what're you--"
"i think you're beautiful. and smart. and passionate about a lot of things. and i think anyone who tells you otherwise is an idiot, and i'd fight them if you'd let me." your eyes started welling up with tears. "i think you're perfect for me and if you'd let me take you out, i promise i'll spend the rest of my life proving it to you."
you blinked until the tears disappeared by sheer willpower, not willing to cry in front of him. "that's perfect," you said. "say that to lex and she'll be eating out of the palm of your hand."
you turned around to grab your bag and coat before you could see mat's face drop in confusion. by the time you turned back around, anthony was standing next to his best friend.
"you ready?" he asked, only glancing at mat out of the side of his eye.
you nodded and squeezed mat's arm as you passed; you couldn't help yourself. "get home safe, mat."
neither you or tito spoke until you got into his car. "what was that about?" he asked.
you shrugged. still not fully comprehending why mat showed up at your door in the first place. "he was telling me what he was gonna tell lex tomorrow, i think."
"really." he didn't sound convinced.
"why else would he show up?"
tito mumbled. "i can think of a few reasons."
after he parked the car, tito got out and opened the door for you while you were answering texts from alexa. he offered you a hand to get out that you took.
there were no sparks, no electric sensations going up your arm. just physical contact, just the warmth of his palm in yours.
he led you into the restaurant which was moderately fancy, like he said. the two of you were escorted back to a table in the corner, away from windows and therefore away from prying eyes.
like a gentleman, he pulled your chair out and helped you scooch up to the table.
"i can't remember if i told you this, but you look lovely," he said with a smile.
"thanks," you replied. "you look handsome." and you meant it. if you weren't in love with his best friend, in another life, you could see yourself falling for his blue eyes. and maybe you still could. mat was going on a date with your friend tomorrow so it was better that you just get over him already and--
"so how long have you been in love with mat?"
you choked on your own spit, and for a minute, tito looked apologetic. for his timing, you had to guess, not the question itself.
surely you heard him wrong.
"what?" you asked when you finally got your bearings.
"how long have you loved him?"
nope. you heard him correctly.
"i--"
he leaned forward, arms braced on the table. "you don't have to lie to me, i know. i've known for awhile."
"i--"
but the server came up and asked for drink orders. tito ordered a bottle of red for the table after asking for your thoughts.
you were still reeling from his question, safe to say you didn't have any thoughts.
"sorry," tito started. "i didn't mean to make you feel cornered, i just wanted to be honest."
"it doesn't look like you're the only who needs to be honest, it's me." you fiddled with the ends of your dress.
"why'd you do it? why'd you help set mat up with your friend?"
you shrugged. "i just wanted to see him happy. and i wanted alexa to find a good guy, i knew mat was one. they make sense together."
"even if it makes you unhappy."
"even if it makes me unhappy."
tito nodded, and looked at you like he could see something you couldn't. "let's forget about him for now and just enjoy dinner, eh?"
you gave him your best smile and nodded.
the rest of the night flew by. soon enough, tito was walking you up to your apartment and kissing your cheek before he left. you wished you felt butterflies, or something, but there was no special sensation. nothing to make you weak in the knees.
it was like a kiss from an old friend.
your phone buzzed with a text from alexa.
alexa: how'd your date go?
you typed out a quick response.
it was good. just got home.
you locked your phone and placed it on your nightstand before collapsing into bed. but your phone buzzed again. you thought about ignoring it, but if it was alexa, you didn't want her to think you were upset at her.
mat barzal: did you have fun?
you blinked before typing back.
yeah. tito's great.
not a second later, you got another text.
mat barzal: good. have a good night.
you fell back against your pillows and cursed at the ceiling.
step 6: let them fall in love
you woke up the next morning and stayed in bed until your bladder was about to burst. after the date with tito and the reminder that mat was going out with alexa tonight, it was all enough to put you back in bed as soon as you peed.
and you stayed there, flicking through netflix shows and wallowing in self pity. you usually weren't this pathetic, but the idea of alexa and mat getting cozy on their date that night was enough to warrant your sadness.
you'd pull yourself together by monday when you'd have to go back to work and see how happy she made him.
that's what you kept telling yourself, that at the very least, two of your friends would be happy.
by 7pm, you were sitting on the couch, waiting for takeout to arrive.
when a knock on the door signified your food arrived, you got up with your blanket burrito and walked to the door. you didn't even bother checking before yanking the door open and looking down at your doormat.
only to see a pair of shoes.
"what the hell," you mumbled. "i thought i said leave at the door...' your voice trailed off as your eyes lifted to meet a pair of hazel.
mat barzal.
he had your food in one hand while the other was in his pocket.
"mat?" you whispered. suddenly, you were throwing the blankets off your shoulders and behind you into your apartment where they'd be out of sight.
though it was then you realized you were in sweats and you hadn't done anything with your hair all day so you were probably better off with the blanket burrito instead.
"hi," he breathed. "here's your food." he handed it over, nodding when you murmured your thanks, and shoved his other hand through his hair.
you glanced at the time on the clock on your wall to make sure you weren't hallucinating. "why're you here, mat? shouldn't you be with alexa?"
"that's what i wanted to talk to you about, actually."
"oh no," you started panicking, your eyes widened. "did she not show up?" you turned back into your apartment and went to your phone, searching for texts from alexa to explain her absence. "i swear i thought she'd show. she told me she would and she's usually a woman of her word."
you turned around when your front door shut with mat standing in the middle of your living room, looking out of place and right at home somehow.
your phone was vacant of any text messages from alexa.
"no, she showed. i left early."
that caught your attention.
you set your food on the coffee table and turned around to face him.
"why did you leave early? was she rude? are you sick?"
mat shook his head. "no, i'm fine, she was fine. that's not why i'm here. i mean it is but that's--that's--i want, no i need to tell you something."
"tell me what?"
he rolled his eyes. "i'm getting to that." he started pacing your very small living room. you wondered if he knew how much space he took up in your apartment. you wondered if he cared how messy your place was. "i'm just gonna come right out and say it, and don't interrupt me this time." you nodded.
mat ran both hands through his hair for the twentieth time since he showed up. "when i said all those things last night, i wasn't talking about alexa. i was talking about you."
what.
but he continued.
"i'm not gonna pretend i've loved you this whole time, but i fell in love with you along the way. the way you kept analyzing every fucking pumpkin for the perfect one, or how you bring red wine to dinner unprompted because you can't not contribute to something, or the way you trusted me enough to take you on the ice and show you something i love, or how you laugh like no one has ever said something mean to you in your life even when i know that jackass tyler harasses you on the daily. you're kind to literally every person i've ever seen you interact with.
"but i hate the way you shrink yourself like you're afraid to take up space. i hate the way you act like alexa's better than you, like i couldn't fall in love with you when you're literally the most generous, kindest, passionate, and beautiful person i've ever met in my life. because i do love you. every fiber of my being loves you."
you blinked once. twice. and breathed.
"what?" you whispered as tears gathered in the corners of your eyes.
"i know you just went out with tito last night, and if you like him, if you love him, i get it. he's a great guy and you'd be great together. but i'm asking you to give me a chance, give us a chance. i've had fun with you the last few weeks and i cannot bear the thought of not calling you mine any longer." his chest was heaving as the words rushed out of his mouth.
you rounded the coffee table to get to him. as soon as you were in arms' reach, mat was pulling you to him. with your hips pressed together, your lips just a breath away, you spoke softly.
"please tell me this isn't a dream."
a small laugh escaped his lips and echoed over your own. "it's not a dream, baby. this is real. i love you so fucking much."
"i love you too, mat."
any words you had left to say were lost as he brought your mouths together.
you weren't sure how much time had passed before you separated from him with your hands pressed on his chest. mat tried to follow your lips, but you kept a firm hand on his sternum so you could speak.
"what about alexa?"
mat pulled back. "what about her?"
"you were on a date with her and just left her there?"
"i more than covered the tab if that's what you're afraid of--"
"what if she hates me?"
he laughed. like threw his head back and laughed before kissing you again. "baby, we were there for fifteen minutes and all i could talk about was you. she told me to come here and tell you the truth."
you smiled. "thank god for alexa."
"thank god for alexa."
mat led the two of you over to the couch where you immediately curled into him. he kissed the top of your head, seemingly addicted to having his lips on your body at all times. "you're fired, you know."
you would've pulled away had mat's grip allowed it. "what? fired from what?"
"the wing woman business. you're absolutely horrible at it."
"yeah, well i think it worked out pretty well."
he pressed his lips into your hair and mumbled. "yeah, i think so too."
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