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sylvies-chen · 4 days

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sweet nothing sleeping

summary: lucy has never been so happy to have fallen in love as she is when she’s falling asleep

pairing: tim bradford/lucy chen

word count: short??? i wrote this on notes app don’t ask me to count

warnings: none

a/n: this was written at *many* a 2am but it was my coping mechanism for the chenford breakup so there will be nothing but fluff and happiness here!! but also sorry in advance for any typos. written for my @morganupstead who gave me this idea ages ago and I just took forever to write it LOL

••• ••• ••• •••

cause they said the end is coming

everyone’s up to something

I find myself running home to your

sweet nothings

She’s had a long day.

The list of grievances wracked up in a single shift has been nothing short of astounding. For example: a man no less than an hour into her first stretch of patrol who puked on her. A bar fight gone horribly wrong, and he was drunk out of his mind so when she showed up at the tail end of a swift punch to the drunkard’s gut then… well, you can figure out the rest. Then another man threatened to sue her and the entire LAPD Mid Wilshire division because he refused to be told by a woman to stop ejaculating in public. Nothing but insufferable misdemeanours one after the other, without end. The robbery homicide tailing the end of her shift was the worst. Lucy doesn’t know what’s more horrible: how violent the young married couple’s death was, or how her first thought was that she wished she could have been the detective on a flashy case like this. Knowing she was even capable of putting her career before her compassion and duty left her gutted.

It leaves her now with a bitter aftertaste of guilt and shame. That coupled with the exhaustion and ridicule of her other calls makes for a particularly dreadful combination. Normally she can see Tim in passing and vent to him about things, but he’d been stuck in some new Metro training program all day. Updated protocol or tactical practice, or whatever they wanted to call it. Based on the state she sees Tim in at the end of one of those days, she’d call it something more akin to torture. It also means she had no support system throughout the day whatsoever apart from Nolan’s typical words of encouragement, which were swell but never substantive.

Since Tamara’s moved out, things have been lonely too. She misses her old roommate. If nothing else, at the end of the day Lucy still had a young and vulnerable kid she had to feed and house and clothe. Cooking for them always felt like a backup ritual, a healing sort of constancy, and that’s gone too.

So she heads to Tim’s. Her foot feels like lead on the gas, pushing down hard and inching dangerously closer to speeding the closer she gets to his place. It’s like her heart can feel the distance closing and misses him even more, the weight of her bad day crushing her heart and leaving spider fractures. A magnetic pull is always at its strongest the minute before contact, after all.

For the most part, Lucy’s been able to hold it together. She’s kept things professional, never complained, held her head high. And even as she trembles with anticipation as she knocks on the door, there’s a part of her refusing to let go of that facade.

She knocks at the door, but there’s no answer. Three louder knocks after a minute of waiting, and still nothing. Only after a third round of knocking does she think to use the spare key he’d given her last month.

“Hi,” Lucy calls out as she enters his place. No immediate response, but that’s no matter. She puts the keys down in his key bowl and hangs up her jacket.

The sound of nails skidding against the floor alert her only seconds in advance to Kojo’s presence. He runs up to her full speed but comes to a screeching halt when he reaches her. With his tail still waving fervently, he tries to sit down. (Tim’s trained him to understand that petting and general affection from guests is contingent upon his very handsome sitting.)

“Kojo! Hey there buddy,” she greets him with a soft laugh, like an old friend. Lucy knows by now, even having owned him once, to scratch him behind his ears. The gesture earns her a right good lick from chin to cheek on the left side of her face.

“Yeah, you’re a good boy, aren’t you? You’re a good boy,” she tells him as she keeps petting him. “Now where’s our Tim?”

She looks around half expecting Tim to appear in the hallway, but no sign of him is to be seen anywhere, save for the sound of his television from the next room. Football. Figures.

“Alright, Sir Kojo, King of the Canines,” she declares, patting him on the head and gently urging him forward by the collar, “let’s see what your dad’s watching.”

The two of them make their way to the family room to see what he’s up to. For a football game, Lucy’s already surprised that he isn’t shouting at the TV and jumping up and down like he normally does.

When she enters the room though, she doesn’t see him watching sports. Instead, she sees a passed-out Tim on the couch, snoring in his Rams jersey, remote loosely balanced in his hand. She tilts her head, curiously soaking in the scene.

She should have expected this. He’s been working as hard as she has lately. Though she isn’t entirely sure as to why, he’s been taking on extra shifts and doing double overtime these past two weeks. God knows he didn’t have the steam for a full game of football. Tack on her unexpected company, and she’s sure she’ll tire him out even more.

But the look of him. The television emits a soft glow that flashes hues of green and blue across his stubbled cheekbones. His head hangs back completely crooked on the headrest, and with the positioning of his arms, Tim’s posed like a dramatic renaissance painting. She can’t help but let out a soft giggle under her breath, and then silences into the brightest of smiles she can give after a day like hers, because nothing about this is funny anymore.

Even drooling, his mere presence soothes her. Lying there, entirely disarmed and peaceful. The world and all its troubles just melt away, dissolve in her mind until only a faint trace of what remains lingers like dust. It’s a beautiful haze Lucy can get stuck in, just standing there and watching him. The tight corners of his mouth, his eyes shut gently, the curve of his neck, the way his hair’s a little shorter right now.

Oh hell. Who is she to disrupt him anyways.

She tiptoes over to the couch and carefully extracts the remote from his hand. Turning the television off to avoid more light and sound will definitely help him sleep. Whether Tim’s asleep or awake, it doesn’t matter. Lucy always sleeps better when she’s next to him.

What doesn’t help Tim sleep, apparently, is Kojo. Having followed Lucy into the room, though she will defend him ferociously and say his heart is in the right place, Kojo makes a beeline for the couch and starts pulling at Tim’s jeans with his sharp canine teeth.

“No! No, Kojo! Bad Kojo, stay back,” she pleads in a whisper pushed out through gritted teeth.

Kojo seems to only get more excited— a sort of escalation which Lucy saw all too frequently in her calls from today. Tim jolts awake almost immediately.

“What the-“ he sits up and pulls his jeans away from Kojo, but then looks up at Lucy, still hovering over him guilty as ever. “Lucy?”

“Sorry.” She winces, finally shooing Kojo away enough to give them more space. “I didn’t mean to wake you. I was trying to put a blanket over you but Kojo got excited.”

“It’s okay,” he assures her, though he’s still rubbing at his eyes. Lucy’s almost certain he’s still half asleep and hasn’t registered the whole situation before him. “I gave you a key for a reason. What are you doing here?”

“I…” She tries to explain it rationally to him, to go through each bad happening chronologically, to compartmentalize. But then, his voice. His sweet, low, milky, humming voice like the pulse of a heart being soothed into a slower rhythm. It’s so steady, so calm. Something about hearing it unlocks a valve within her. She cracks, as she knew she would when she decided to come, and before she knows it she’s crying.

“Hey, hey,” Tim hushes gently, immediately sitting up. “What’s wrong? What happened?”

“Oh nothing,” she sobs. “I just had a crappy day. I got puked on and yelled at and all this nonsense which I can normally handle but I don’t even know why I’m… why I’m…”

“Don’t question it too much,” he tells her. “Just let it out.”

“Okay.”

And so she does. For a little bit, she just cries. Surprisingly, it’s not sad. The world isn’t ending, nothing is going to go wrong. There is no other shoe about to drop, no real heartbreak, no evil around. These tears are but a release, and there’s a safety to them.

Once she’s done, she wipes at her tears with her sleeves and sniffles.

“Better?”

“Better,” she says, and can really mean it, genuine smile and all. “Thanks.”

“You never have to thank me.”

She nods, but switches the subject. “You never told me how you’re Metro seminar went today.”

“Eh, it was alright,” he says. “Apart from being exhausted and sore all over, of course. We’ve got some new recruits who are… eager.”

She looks at him with loving suspicion. “You went full Tim 1.0 on them, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” he admits with a big huff of relief. “I ran through the drills and protocol updates 36 times because they couldn’t get it right. I didn’t have the heart to just demote them from my team.”

“Tim Bradford not having the heart for a tough love moment? Who are you?” She teases. “Where was this energy 6 years ago?”

“Waiting for you to come along and change it, I guess,” he sighs wistfully. “Always just waiting for you.”

“You’ve gone soft, Sergeant Bradford.” She shakes her head. “People will talk.”

“Let them.”

He pulls her in for a kiss, and it only deepens for a moment, then plateauing into a pleasant and chaste hum before release. His arms pull her into his side and her head finds that perfect spot on his chest to nestle into.

The sigh she lets out is almost a song. “This feels good, being here with you. Feeling at peace.”

“Just wait for it.”

“Huh?”

Lucy doesn’t know how Tim saw this coming, but before even asking she’s given an answer. Kojo jumps up onto the couch and steps on Lucy’s lap to lick her and Tim all over their tired, sweaty faces.

“Argh! Kojo, off!” She squeals, though not so gravely that she can’t laugh in the process. Eventually, with enough shooing, Kojo calms down. He doesn’t leave the couch, but lies down next to them, choosing to rest his head on her lap and make happy little sighs.

“Told you.”

“How did you know he would do that?”

Tim shrugs. “He’s happier when you’re around. Like me.”

Lucy smiles, even when pushing Kojo off of them. “I love you.”

Tim doesn’t respond. Too much time passes. A beat, and then another. She gets worried.

“Tim?”

“Oh so you weren’t talking to the dog then?”

She giggles and smacks him playfully across the chest with the back of her hand. “No! Well I do love him, but he drools. And you’re—“

“Human?”

“The love of my life.”

She watches the ripple of those words dance across his face. Tim smiles, his cheeks turning all shades of pink and red. Though he doesn’t seem scared off by her comment, the surprise of it still shows in his raised eyebrows and subsequent lines in his forehead. The way his head tilts, like he can’t quite believe it. But, above all else, the love in his eyes. And that way he’s looking at her now… sometimes she thinks that’s what life’s all about.

“I know I don’t have to be yours,” she continues. “You know, having been married before and all, but—“

“Don’t think for a second you aren’t,” he lets out, almost like the words couldn’t contain themselves. “You are.”

“Good.” Her turn now: the ridiculous blushing, the smile, the love in her eyes. So much joy.

So much fatigue too though. Being around him, getting to decompress like this, it’s making her crash fast. She yawns, and Tim yawns in subconscious response, and out of his own fatigue.

“I should get going,” Lucy tells him, though her face is still nestled into his sweater and has no intention of leaving. “I really only came over to feel some comfort and decompress but I didn’t bring a change of clothes or anything.”

“Mmm,” he groans in disapproval of the idea. “Stay for a bit.”

“No. No, I’ve… gotta…” She sucks in a deep breath, Tim’s woody scent catching onto her nose. Her eyes flutter and her muscles start to release their tension as the hand which isn’t sprawled across Tim’s chest starts to massage the spot behind Kojo’s ear.

“Oh, maybe just a few minutes…” she tells him hesitantly. “But keep me talking, I don’t want to fall asleep.”

“Ok. What about the rest of your day? You never finished telling me all the things that had you so upset.”

“Well it started when the air conditioning in the shop nearly exploded on me, and then I immediately took my first call at this dive bar before I could get it fixed. But oh, you won’t believe what this one guy did…”

Lucy goes on and on, her eyes growing heavy and her voice growing layers of drowsy rasp, fighting sleep to tell all her stories of woe. The drunkards, the sexist pigs, the violence. Part of her registers Tim’s lack of response or reaction as she tells her stories. Time passes. She talks, and he listens.

“I think it’s better not to dwell on it though,” she concludes eventually. “I’ve felt all I can feel about it for one day. And anyways I… I can barely remember my own anguish now. It feels so far aw—“

She looks up to see him passed out, his breathing a low rumble that threatens snoring. The soft fur under her other hand feels alarmingly still as well, until she looks to the other side and sees Kojo sleeping on her lap.

So much for leaving. She supposes that’s exactly how she wants things anyway. The heartbeats of these two precious boys at the tips of her fingers, nestled right next to hers. Giving her strength, steadying her scattered mind. Under these dim lights and warm blankets and beloved company, she wouldn’t dare move a muscle.

“Oh hell, who was I kidding,” she whispers to him. “I was always going to end up here anyways. With you.”

She rests her head on his chest once more. The last thing she remembers is the rise and fall of Tim’s chest against her hand and the feel of Kojo’s soft fur against her other.

This isn’t a big moment. No fireworks, no heartfelt confessions, no twirls or kisses in the rain. But even as the day ends and the lights go out, she feels love where it dwells best: in a quiet room. And it remains that Lucy has never been so happy to have fallen in love as she is when she’s falling asleep.

#the rookie #chenford #abby writes #lucy chen #tim bradford #kojo #lucy x tim #tim x lucy #chenford fanfic

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undoing-anobrains · 8 months

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you bring me home

part six

series masterlist

wc- 3.6K

They always seem to find each other in the moonlight. As if there's something instinctual and magnetic awoken in them once the pearlescent matter rises in the distance and the sun disappears from sight leaving an explosion of colour in its aftermath. In the dusk Matty can't resist the pull Caroline has over him - he treasures the stolen moments they share in the dim light.

Caroline had been trying to make the time to listen to the boys' latest album in its entirety without being interrupted but she was struggling. She'd heard the singles in the lead up as they were released and she was confident she knew the majority of the other tracks as well just from sharing the studio space with them for the past few weeks but she hadn't yet gotten the opportunity to listen to the final product.

She was the type of person who needed complete silence and darkness to properly absorb music, at least for the first listen, but she also felt rather embarrassed playing it around the boys. There was no reason for her to be because there was absolutely no shame in acknowledging her brother and her friends' talent and she would fully admit to being a fan but they had never witnessed her reactions to their music before. Even if he was her brother, she figured George would have been slightly concerned if he'd seen her reaction to 'I always wanna die (sometimes)' two years ago. The point being their music was a cathartic release for her but she didn't want her initial thoughts to be under the magnifying glass of half the band.

On a random Tuesday evening though her efforts were once again delayed because of Matty's arrival in her room. Lately he'd been turning up at her door earlier and earlier, sometimes to talk, sometimes just to content to linger in silence to be close to Caroline as she browsed journal articles. His head typically ended up on her shoulder and more often than not she found him following them as well. It was rather amusing when he'd ask her at the end 'what the fuck does hypofractionation mean?' and 'I don't know how you read this with a straight face love' when she was reviewing data on the acute side effects a potential breakthrough drug had on gut function.

This time though he was flicking through her belongings absent-mindedly until his fingers danced over the black bottle of nail varnish she kept on the wooden dresser alongside her makeup. Seconds later Matty was eagerly asking her if she'd do his nails and Caroline obliged because she'd never been able to say no to Matty. Not when she should have and certainly not now.

The nail polish let out loud clinks as they hit against each other inside the clear container she stored them in. Caroline placed it gently on her bed in between her and Matty. The potent smell of chemicals intensified as she slowly twirled the lid around until the bottle of black nail varnish was fully open. Taking Matty's hand in hers sent her spiralling. Her fingers brushed against Matty's constantly these days but neither of them had ever dared to be more intimate with it.

Honestly it was kind of insane that she was this receptive to the simple action of holding his band, a seemingly innocuous touch but it ignited an unexpected spark within her. The sensation, so subtle yet electrifying, sent a quiver through her fingertips and settled like a whispering secret in her chest. If only her seventeen year old self could see her now.

Their hands fit together like pieces of a puzzle, as if they were always meant to be intertwined in this way. She could feel the warmth of his palm against hers, a connection that spoke of unspoken understanding and a burgeoning affection. Her breath caught in her throat, a subtle shiver racing up her spine. Holding Matty's hand, her own artistically inclined fingers seemed to tremble with the touch, as if his warmth had triggered a symphony of sensations within her.

Her gaze flickered up from the task at hand, meeting Matty's eyes. His lips curled into a knowing smirk, a spark of playful mischief dancing in his gaze. He was aware – oh, he was all too aware – of the unsteady flutter that had taken residence in her chest.

"Steady there, Caro," his voice, a velvet caress, danced upon the air. "You make it seem like holding my hand is a monumental task."

Caroline's cheeks flushed, a rosy hue that mirrored the delicate patter of her heartbeat. "It's not that," she murmured, her voice betraying her flustered state. "It's just... I didn't expect..."

Matty's grin widened, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Didn't expect that holding my hand would send your heart into a frenzy?"

A soft huff of laughter escaped her, a mixture of embarrassment and fond exasperation. "Oh, fuck off, dickhead. It's not like I'm accustomed to... well, this."

His fingers curled gently around hers, a reassurance that echoed far beyond the playful banter. "I'm just messing with you. You're doing great, love."

She met his gaze again, a mixture of vulnerability and gratitude painting her features. "You know, you really have a way of making the simplest things feel... significant."

Matty's smile softened, his thumb brushing across her knuckles in a gesture that spoke volumes. "Maybe it's the significance we assign to them that matters most."

Caroline's breath caught at his words, the air between them thick with unspoken sentiments. "You're so pretentious, but I suppose you're right," she replied softly, her voice carrying the weight of a newfound understanding. "We have a way of infusing meaning into the smallest moments, turning them into something memorable."

Matty's gaze remained fixed on her. "It's like painting a canvas," he mused, his voice carrying a hint of wonder. "A single brushstroke can change the entire tone of a piece. And sometimes, the most unassuming strokes create the most profound beauty."

It never failed to astound Caroline how Matty could romanticise the smallest actions with words that would leave the poets weeping. Just one stroke could completely alter an artwork - just like one moment could forever change two people after years of build-up.

Cautiously she continued to flick the colour across each individual nail with as exact precision she could manage with ever so slightly trembling hands. Caroline could feel herself biting the inside of her cheek as she examined every little stroke ensuring it was as perfect as possible. Even though Caroline's hands were shaky they were nothing compared to Matty's. He could never stay still which made it way harder not to smudge the first coat of black polish. She repeated the process with each nail once they were dry before giving Matty a pointed look "Don't move them for the next ten minutes," and at the incredulous one he sent her in return she sighed "you'll fuck them up if you don't let it dry first and then they'll look like shit."

To her surprise Matty seemed to actually concentrate on keeping them still after that so Caroline asked something which had been playing on her mind recently in as casual a tone as she could manage "So, have you guys been planning any post-album release celebrations?"

Matty's eyes held a playful glint as he leaned back a little, clearly welcoming the diversion from the drying nail polish. "Yeah actually, it's been a weird one to figure out but when the rules lighten up a bit next week Ross, Hann and Carly are going to come out here for the night" he replied with a nonchalant shrug. "it's just going to be a chill little party with the boys, it's kind of weird you know - this is the longest we've ever been apart and I genuinely think if I hadn't had George here I would've gone mental."

“I get it," Caroline nodded "you lot are genuinely like brothers. It must have been really hard to be apart from them for this long. But the party's a good shout, we all need it."

Caroline was actually thrilled to hear the other half of the band were going to be joining them next week. Adam had been one of her closest friends for years now but she hadn't seen him or Ross in nearly a year now because of everything that had gone down and how busy work had been for her before that. The last time had been when they headlined Reading and she'd gone to support them.

“It has been," he nodded in agreement "but luckily I've had this really cool girl to keep me company."

"Oh yeah,? Caroline raised a brow "do tell me more."

"Well, this really cool girl happens to have an uncanny ability to make even the most mundane moments feel like an adventure. She's got this way of brightening up the room with just a smile, and her laughter is like music that you can't help but dance to. And even though she's got shit taste in wine I can't stop thinking about her."

Caroline was proud of how neutral she was able to keep her expression after the string of compliments, instead a playful smile tugged at the corners of her lips "sounds like quite the character. I bet she's a handful."

Matty's grin widened, his gaze locked onto hers. "Oh, you have no idea. She's a whirlwind of wit and charm, always keeping me on my toes. And seriously intelligent it's amazing - she's got this incredible depth to her, I've never met anyone like her."

Caroline felt a warm blush creeping up her cheeks, his words painting a picture she never quite saw in herself. "You're exaggerating, Matty."

He shook his head, the sincerity in his expression unwavering. "Not at all. You're one of a kind, Caro."

Their banter had taken on a more earnest tone, a subtle shift in the air that made their words feel weightier, more significant. As their gazes locked, a fleeting moment passed between them, an unspoken understanding that went beyond the playful façade.

"You're not so bad yourself, Healy," Caroline replied, her voice softer than before. "In fact, you're kind of growing on me."

Matty's laughter rang out, a warm and genuine sound that filled the space around them. "Growing on you, am I? If I recall correctly I think you're underselling it love."

Immediately deflecting, Caroline examined his nails which were luckily dry now so she could use it as an excuse "would you look at that," she remarked "my artistry is dry now so you can move again."

"Very convenient timing," he hummed with a small smirk "thanks love, I'll see you later."

He was infuriatingly pleased with himself for being able to rile her up and it showed with his giddy walk out of her room and smug expression. And Caroline was left with the realisation that she couldn't possibly deny that the feelings were reciprocated after that.

❦

Their interactions had become charged with an unspoken tension, a magnetic pull that neither of them could resist. Caroline would catch herself openly blushing at the double entendres that slipped from Matty's lips, and she'd respond with a witty retort that left him grinning. Their playful back-and-forths were a testament to the growing fire that burned brighter between them with each passing day.

Late nights in the studio turned into stolen glances and lingering touches. Matty's fingers would brush against Caroline's as they shared a laugh, and the electricity that sparked between them was undeniable. Their conversations grew more intimate, delving into deeper topics as they shared their hopes, dreams, and fears. It was as if they had built a bridge between their worlds, allowing them to cross into each other's thoughts and feelings.

And then there were the stolen moments—those fleeting instances where their eyes would lock and time seemed to stand still. In those moments, they communicated without words, a silent exchange of emotions that left them both breathless. Yet, despite the undeniable chemistry that simmered between them, they both held back. It was as if they were standing on the edge of a precipice, gazing into the depths below, unsure of whether to take the plunge. Fear of crossing that line and risking their friendship held them back, even as their hearts yearned for something more.

But the tension was becoming too much to bear, the unspoken words hanging in the air like a melody waiting to be sung. As they sat in the studio one evening, the dim light casting shadows across their faces, it was as if the universe itself conspired to push them closer together. Matty's fingers brushed against Caroline's hand, his touch lingering longer than usual, and she looked up at him with a mixture of vulnerability and longing.

Their eyes locked, and in that moment, the world around them faded away. The unspoken words hung heavy between them, and it was as if they were teetering on the edge of a precipice once more. The uncharted territory of their feelings was both exhilarating and terrifying, and they could no longer ignore the undeniable truth that had been building between them.

Matty would strum a few chords on his guitar, his eyes locked onto hers with an intensity that made her heart race. He'd playfully croon a line or two, his voice low and seductive, leaving her momentarily breathless. Caroline, never one to back down from a challenge, would respond with a teasing smile, her voice laced with a hint of suggestion.

"Is this your way of serenading me, Healy?" she'd quip, her fingers tracing patterns on the edge of the mixing board.

Matty would chuckle, his eyes never leaving hers. "Maybe, Caro. Or maybe I just can't resist showing off for you."

Their playful exchanges were like a secret language, a way of communicating their growing feelings without the need for overt declarations. Matty's touches became more lingering, his fingers brushing against hers when passing her a cup of coffee or playfully tousling her hair. Caroline found herself leaning into his proximity, relishing the warmth of his presence and the electricity that crackled between them.

Nights spent in the studio became their haven, where they shared whispered confidences and private jokes that only they understood. Matty would strum his guitar while Caroline lounged on the couch, their eyes locking in a silent understanding that transcended words. And when the music faded, it was replaced by a charged silence, a moment permeating unspoken desires.

❦

Their game of flirtation reached its pinnacle during a game night that Louis had organized. The atmosphere was relaxed, the laughter contagious as they played rounds of charades and board games. Matty's eyes seemed to follow Caroline's every move, his gaze lingering on her with an intensity that sent shivers down her spine.

During a particularly competitive round of Monopoly where they'd been secretly robbing money off of George all night, Matty leaned in close to her ear, his voice low and sultry. "I have a feeling we'd make a pretty good team in private too, Caro."

Caroline's breath caught, her heart racing as his words sent a rush of heat through her veins. She shot him a playful glance, her lips curling into a smirk. "Oh, is that right? Are you suggesting we team up for some private games?"

Matty's lips quirked up in a mischievous smile. "You have no idea what kind of games I have in mind, Caro."

Their eyes locked in a charged moment, the air between them thick with unspoken promises. And as the game night continued, their flirtation took on a new level of intensity, a dance of desire that left them both exhilarated and yearning for more.

In the midst of their playful banter and lingering touches, they both knew that the line between friendship and something more had blurred beyond recognition. The studio, once a place of music and creativity, had become a canvas for their emotions, a space where their hearts were laid bare through stolen glances and whispered words.

And as the days turned into nights, and the flirtation evolved into something deeper, they found themselves standing at the edge of something beautiful and unknown, on the precipice of crossing the boundary from friendship to romance. The studio's walls held the echoes of their laughter, their music, and the unspoken promise of what could be—a love story in the making, written in notes and lyrics, and sealed with stolen glances and tender moments.

Caroline's heart raced, her cheeks tinged with a rosy hue. "Oh, is that so?" she replied, her voice a playful whisper. "Are you suggesting that we're becoming dangerously close?"

Matty's lips curved into a smug smile. "I wouldn't say dangerously," he countered, his tone dripping with flirtatious charm. "But definitely... intriguingly close."

Their banter was a dance of words, a playful exchange that carried with it a magnetic pull. With each passing day, their boundaries blurred, and what had started as friendly teasing began to hold a deeper resonance.

One evening, as they lounged in the living area of the studio, Caroline let out a contented sigh. "You know," she said softly, her gaze fixed on the flickering flames in the fireplace, "I never thought I'd find myself in a place like this."

Matty's gaze shifted to her, his expression curious. "What do you mean?"

Caroline turned to meet his eyes, a genuine smile gracing her lips. "I mean, in the company of someone who makes me feel... seen, appreciated. It's been a long time since I've felt this way."

Matty's fingers brushed against hers, a gentle touch that sent a shiver down her spine. "Caroline," he said softly, his voice carrying a weight of sincerity, "you deserve to be with someone who sees your worth and appreciates you for who you are."

Their eyes locked in a moment of quiet understanding, and Caroline felt her heart swell with a mixture of vulnerability and hope. In that instant, the flirtatious banter, the shared laughter, and the unspoken emotions came together to form a tapestry of connection that felt undeniably real. And as the future remained uncertain, one thing was clear: they were no longer just friends; they were two souls entwined in a journey of discovery, where each stolen glance and whispered word carried the promise of something more.

The studio held its secrets like a silent confidante, the walls witnesses to the clandestine dance between Matty and Caroline. Their newfound connection had blossomed into something they both yearned for, a tender and exhilarating romance that sent their hearts racing with each stolen moment.

It was a game of secrecy, of stolen glances across the room when they thought no one was looking. Matty's fingers brushed against Caroline's whenever they passed each other, a fleeting touch that left her skin tingling with anticipation. Their conversations were laced with double meanings, every innocent word carrying a hidden subtext that only they could decipher.

Late nights took on a new intensity. As Louis and George retired for the evening, Matty and Caroline found themselves alone, the world reduced to the confined space where music and emotions intertwined. They would sit side by side on the couch, their shoulders brushing against each other, as they whispered secrets that only the night could hear.

"I can't believe we're sneaking around like teenagers," Caroline would murmur with a soft laugh, her eyes locked onto the moonlight streaming through the window. Thinking of how she would have freaked if she'd known this was how things would end up with Matty all those years ago.

Matty's hand would find hers, their fingers entwining in a silent promise. "It's like our little secret," he'd reply, his voice a low, intimate whisper that sent shivers down her spine.

Caroline would often find herself perched on a stool, her eyes fixed on Matty as he played. The way his fingers moved across the strings held a hypnotic quality, as if the music was an extension of his soul. And when he looked up at her, the intensity in his gaze left her breathless, a silent acknowledgement of the unspoken connection between them.

They would steal kisses in the dimly lit corners of the studio, their lips meeting in stolen moments of tenderness and longing. Every touch was electrified, every glance a promise of what was to come. It was the result of what felt like a lifetime of yearning and restraint, a beautiful torture that neither of them wanted to end. Like the contents of a snow globe come to fruition and Caroline found it almost impossible to believe something so inherently beautiful and sacred could be hers, could be theirs - and only theirs.

taglist: @indierockgirrl

#everybody cheered #the long awaited ybmh 6 #ross and hann are making their debut next time :)#abby writes #you bring me home #the 1975 #george daniel #ross macdonald #adam hann #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy #matty healy fic #matty healy x oc #matty healy fanfic

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sorryjustafangirl · 1 year

Text

babe for the weekend

a/n: this is a little different than what i usually write, in terms of boy and structure but i am really really proud of how it turned out, so i hope y'all like it too! the title comes from Taylor Swift's ''tis the damn season" and it quite inspired by it. this is for @broadstbroskis, one of the very first writers i starting following on hockeyblr. it was an absolute honour to write for her in @antoinerousselssel's winter fic exchange and i really really hope she enjoys it (and all its Swiftie references <3)

pairing: morgan rielly x fem!reader

word count: 8.8k+

warnings: a few swears, holiday setting (although not crazy prominent), childhood idiot friends to lovers?

disclaimer: this is a piece of fiction and this beautiful gif is not mine! p.s. i know he got engaged recently (to the figure skating love of my life Tessa Virtue; congrats to them!) but i was too deep in the fic to switch it when i heard the news. hope you still love it!

Morgan had been getting you out of trouble since the day you two could walk. You’d knock over a vase, and he’d find a way to blame the dog. You’d convince him to mattress surf down the stairs, and he put it back while you stalled your mom so she wouldn’t know. He would tell his mom that she “saw you walk up the stairs after dinner like hours ago” when you only snuck in his window four minutes before.

That didn’t end when he left to play junior hockey or when he got drafted and you moved across the country for school. Despite being in the same city, you relied less on him to bail you out as you got older, but every once in a while, his number was on speed dial to decipher if a guy was phishing you or for a 2am pickup from the club.

Granted, you’d saved him just as many times. You’d posed as his girlfriend to save him from puck bunnies and more than once told his mom it was you he was out with, instead of the girlfriend he wasn’t supposed to have. Every other week, he’d call with a question he was too embarrassed to ask his own mom (“is $10 too much for a carton of orange juice?”).

You just never thought he’d be bailing you out like this.

As the youngest of four kids (and the last single one), your parents were overbearing about your love life to say the least. But in the holiday season? It dialed up to 11.

“Are you sure you’re alright though? We don’t want you to be feeling lonely.” Your mom brought up at the end of your weekly Zoom family call, complete with all your siblings and grandma.

“For the last time, I am not lonely. I have great friends, I have a good job at an ad agency, and my credit card is paid off. I’m doing great!”

“But it’s a big city, darling. You’ve been out of school for years and you still haven’t told us about any guy. Or-or girl, if you’re into that,” she tried to reason.

“Mom, she isn’t lonely because she’s getting some!” Ben, your youngest brother, chimed in, making you cringe.

“Grow up, dork,” Julie, your eldest sister, said at the same time your older brother, James, said “Nice one!”

“Kids, you’re making Grams blush, can you knock it off?” Your dad chimed in. Ben’s face flushed but that didn’t stop James from poking the bear.

“Just think Mom, there’s less people to feed at Christmas!”

“That’s what you take out of this? Your sister could be at risk for depression.”

“I don’t have depression!”

“You always talk to me with an iced coffee, I do get a little concerned.” “Rude!” “Hey! Ruby drinks iced coffees too and she’s not depressed.” “She’s in a relationship with you, I’d rethink that.” “You aren’t depressed when you’re in happy relationships, that’s what I know.” “Grams, that is not true.” “That’s what Cynthia at book club said!” “None of that changes the fact that your sister hasn’t had a boyfriend in a long time and I’m worried about her!” “She’s not that old Brenda.” “She’s not seventeen anymore Thomas, our daughter is getting older and if she wants kids–” “Kids? Mom, she doesn’t even have a boyfriend.” “That’s my point!” “Who said she wants kids?” “Julie, you’re a mother, you should know every woman wants kids!” “Grams, that isn’t true.”

All of their overlapping voices seemed to get louder, rattling around in your brain, and you couldn’t take it anymore.

“I have a boyfriend!” You blurted and the screen silenced. You relished the small moment of quiet before the sound exploded again.

“What?” “Yes!” “Who is he?” “Is he coming home with you?” “What’s his name?”

“Woah, woah. One at a time please,” you nervously laughed.

“What’s his name?” The smiles on your mom and Grams faces were so wide it was starting to freak you out and your brain froze. What’s a boy’s name what’s a boy name what’s a boy’s name??

“Morgan.”

Your brain blurted out the name before you realized its implications.

“Morgan?” Your mom’s smile widened. “Like our Morgan? The Rielly’s boy?”

Shit, shit, shit. “You’ll have to wait to find out.”

“If they couldn’t get together in high school, no way it would happen now. I say it’s different.” “There’s lots of Morgans in Toronto! It’s a big city.”

“Yeah, I call bullshit on this whole boyfriend thing,” your older sister Julie chimed in.

You felt blood starting to drain from your face “What?”

“Oh c’mon! All we have is a name? You don’t want to share his job or what he looks like? You can’t even tell us if he’s coming back with you. You’re just faking it.”

“His work is busy, we haven’t decided if he’s coming back yet!”

“Two weeks before the holidays?” She raised an eyebrow and you pursed your lips.

“Fine. I was going to surprise you instead, but yes he’s coming back with me. And he has blond hair. Happy?” Julie only shrugged but you could hear your grandmother rejoice in the background of the call. “Look, I have to go but I’ll see you all in two weeks.”

“With Morgan! Oh, I’m so excited to meet him!”

“Yes. With Morgan.” You ended the phone call and flopped into your couch pillows before letting out a scream.

Where were you going to find a Morgan with blond hair to act as a fake-boyfriend to meet your family across the country?

-----

“Just call your Morgan.” Your best friend, Ivy, said as the two of you sat in Fran’s, the best diner for burger and fries past Jarvis street, for your regular lunch chat.

“No, it’d be weird! He’s known my family for a long time and we’re friends.” You shook your head while munching on your fries.

“Those are exactly the reasons you should take him! Plus, you said his name. I don’t get why you’re making it into this big deal about taking him.”

“Because it is!”

“But why? It’s not like you’re in love with him,” She said, dipping her fries in ketchup.

“About that…” You trailed off, biting your lip waiting for her reaction.

She dropped the food before it could get to her mouth. “No!”

“Look, it was when we were in high school! I was about to tell him when we moved out here, but then he was saying how there was so much on his plate and he was feeling a lot of pressure and I just didn’t want to add to that, you know?” You took a bite of your food before continuing. “I didn’t want him to resent me for telling him at such a crucial point in his life.”

“And now?”

You shrugged. “I think I’ll always have some sort of feelings for him. He was my best friend growing up.”

“You’re going to have to be really good at hiding those feelings when you’re posing as boyfriend and girlfriend with him.”

“Who said I’m asking him?”

Ivy raised her eyebrows. “Where else are you going to find a blond-haired Morgan to bring home to your family across the country in less than two weeks?” You threw a fry at her, which she grabbed and put on her own plate. “Besides, there’s no harm in asking. He can always say no.”

-----

“Yes.”

“Really?” You asked a little too loudly, putting your coffee mug down a little too harshly, gaining the attention of others in the cafe the two of you routinely catch up in. But you didn’t care. You were expecting a little more skepticism from Morgan when you proposed him playing a fake boyfriend role in front of your family.

“Yeah, ‘course. It’s my job to bail you out of trouble, isn’t it?” You playfully kicked him under the table. “Besides, I haven’t seen Vancouver or your family in a while. It’d be nice to go back to the old times.”

“Oh my gosh, thank you, thank you, thank you!” You said, instinctively placing a hand on his arm laid across the table. “Okay, so I don’t know when your season ends but I’m hoping we can fly out for like three days maximum, so it’ll be quick, and we can use your job as an excuse so that’ll be good. For the story, obviously we just went out one day after being friends for a long time, so that’ll be easy. You asked me out. Five or six months is a good timeline for them not knowing but also you coming home so let’s stick to that. You can’t tell your parents because my mom will be furious if Shirley knew before her. Um, Ben, my little brother – you know him–, he’s bringing his girlfriend Ruby, but she’s chill so you’ll get along with her a lot. Drew, my oldest nephew, he’s Julie’s kid and then Charlie and Julie had Rebekah the year before last and Izzy, who is James’s wife, just had baby Taylor a couple months ago so the house is going to be chaotic. You should be writing this down, you know.” You slowed down to notice that Morgan was just staring at you. “I just said so much stuff you need to remember.”

“I know your family. Trust me, it’s going to be fine. I’ll remember all that,” He assured you, placing a hand over your arm like you had done to him.

“Are you sure? I just..I can’t have this go wrong. Julie already suspects the legitimacy of this…fake relationship.”

He squeezes your arm and sends you one of his smiles that makes your heart swell. “We’ve got this in the bag.”

-----

You’d both decided that it’d be easiest if you came to the airport together, so you said you’d pick him up from morning practice. You were waiting in the parking garage at the arena, scrolling through your phone, until you heard footsteps. Looking up, you see Morgan, Mitch, and Willy walking towards you. You give them a shy wave, and they all return with big grins, like they knew something they didn’t. Morgan came up to you, swung an arm over your shoulder and pressed a kiss to your temple.

“Bye guys, safe travels,” He shouted over his shoulder, the two of you walking towards your vehicle. Once they were out of earshot, you turned to Morgan.

“What was that?”

“What?”

“That forehead kiss!”

“Oh!” His smile grew a little. “I was practicing for this weekend. Was it okay?” His slight concern made your heart beat faster and you could feel heat starting to go to your face.

“I mean, yeah, but like won’t the guys think that, you know, we’re—”

“Believe me, the guys already think we’re together.”

“What?!”

He laughed. “They asked about my plans for the holidays and I said I was going home with you. They just assumed we were dating and it felt like a lot of work to correct them. It’s okay, I promise.”

“If you say so,” you hummed. You unlatched yourself from his arm as you approached your car but Morgan stopped in his tracks and started to laugh.

“You’re still driving this old thing?” He was referring to your blue Honda you’d had since high school.

“Excuse me, you named this thing and Louise is still in great shape so of course I still drive her. Now get in.” He holds up his hands in surrender. You buckled yourself in and turned the engine over. The dash lit up like a Christmas tree and the radio was uneven again, so you hit the console a few times before it started to come out of both speakers.

“Great shape, sure.”

“Shut up.”

-----

Despite the busyness of the Toronto Pearson International Airport during the holidays, the two of you seemed to breeze through security and boarding. It wasn’t until you stepped onto the airplane, you’d realized just how much anxiety you got from flying.

Morgan offered to put both carry-on bags in the overhead bins and you gladly took him up the offer. You slid into your seat, immediately putting on the seatbelt and making it tight against your hips.

“We aren’t flying just yet,” He teased, sliding into the seat next to you.

“I know, it’s just that I–nevermind, it’s silly.” You murmured with a strained smile.

“No, what is it?” You met your eyes and you took a deep breath. This was Morgan, your Morgan. He’d seen you cry after you got root beer up your nose and he only laughed a little.

“Airplanes give me a lot of anxiety and I hate takeoffs. It’s just really nerve wracking for me.”

“Okay, well I’m right here. Would it help if I held your hand?” You shyly nodded, and Mo grabbed a hold of your hand, lacing your fingers together and rubbing his thumb over the back of your hand. You tried to take deep breaths but after the safety presentation, and the plane started to taxi, it got shallower and the grip on Morgan’s hand got stronger.

“I think it's time for a distraction. Want to help me out here?” He said, turning his body towards yours as much as he could. You nodded, trying not to focus on the bouncing of the wings outside your window.

“What kind of pet names do you like?”

That was…not what you were expecting but it certainly is a distraction. “I don’t really know? I didn’t name our dogs, Julie or my parents did. Why?” You look over to Morgan to see him quietly laughing to himself. “What?”

“I meant like, romantic pet names. So I can play this boyfriend role right, you know?”

“Oh,” you said, feeling your face heat up. “Uh, I don’t really know. My past boyfriends weren’t really into those.” You continued to take deep breaths as he pulled out his phone.

“Okay, cool, I’ve got a list and we can just go through them?” You nodded and he started.

“Honey?”

“We aren’t fifty years old Mo.”

“Sweetie?”

“I’m not five either,” you joked. At your attempt at humour, you say Morgan’s face lit up.

“What about sweetheart?” Your grimace made him laugh and he moved on. “Kitten? Dear? Babe? Sugar plum?”

“You can call me babe. For the weekend, of course. I like that one.”

“Of course, babe.” He winked. “And look, we’re in the air already. That wasn’t so bad, was it?”

You looked out and the clouds were level, the city skyline peeking through like a scene out of a movie. You look back at him to see him already looking at you. Unable to say everything you feel for him in that moment (platonically, you tell yourself), you squeeze his hand.

-----

As you touched back in Vancouver (still holding Morgan’s hand for safety purposes), it started to feel real. Real you were back in the city, real Morgan was here, and real that you were supposed to be acting like you’re in love.

“Hey, I’ll be right back. Hold my bag for me?” Morgan asked, once you’d deplaned and entered the airport. You nodded and shooed him off, finding a place in the nearest lounge to wait for him. You pulled out your phone and started to catch up on messages when someone beside you cleared their throat.

“Sorry to bother you but did you go to Prince of Wales Secondary School in Vancouver?” You turned towards the voice to see someone so familiar but couldn’t put a finger on who.

“Um, yes. How did you know that?”

“I’m Abigail Brown. I think you were my lab partner in high school chemistry?” As soon as she said it, it was like everything rushed back to you. The two of you were good friends but just fell out of touch as years went on.

“Oh my gosh yes! Oh my gosh, hi! How have you been?” You got out of your seat to give her a hug.

“I’ve been really good! My girlfriend and I are headed to London for the holidays.”

“Oh fun! I’ve come back for the holidays with my uh..” You trailed off, thinking of what to call this arrangement. “Morgan Reilly, do you remember him?”

“Yeah, totally. Did he come back with you?” She asked, raising her eyebrows.

“Yeah, we’re here together.”

“No way, that’s so sweet! Back in the day, everyone was wondering when you two would get together!”

“Oh, really?” You asked, surprised. You had thought that your crush on one of your closest friends was pretty discrete.

“Yeah, a lot of us thought you’d be a cute couple. Turns out we were right,” she winked and nodded her head behind you. You turned to see Morgan coming back with two Tim Horton cups in his hands – one hot coffee for him and one Iced Capp for you. You tilted your head at his thoughtfulness.

“My flight is boarding now, but it was so nice to see you again!” Abigail said, waving briefly to Morgan before leaving with her girlfriend.

“Yeah, you too!” You called after her. “Is that coffee for me?” You asked, a wide smile on your face.

“Because it is so ridiculously early, it is,” he said, placing it in your hands. “Who was that?”

“My high school lab partner. She thought we were together, actually.”

Morgan gave you a puzzled look. “Isn’t that what she’s supposed to think?”

“I mean, I guess, but we’re really just pretending for my family, so I didn’t think she’d think we’re together.” Morgan only hummed at your response and grabbed his bag.

“Ready to head to your parents' then?”

Like coming home, the two of you navigated through the airport easily and were on your way to your parents house in no time. Outside of the Uber, looking up at your childhood home, you felt your nerves getting the best of you again. The warm Christmas lights and the three cars in the driveway should’ve calmed you down, but instead had the opposite effect.

“Okay, so, again, we’ve been dating for five months, you asked me out. We kept it a secret, so your parents don’t know either. Ruby is Ben’s girlfriend. Drew and–”

“–Rebekah are Julie and Charlie’s kids. Rebekah is two years old. James married Izzy and their baby, Taylor, was born last month,” He finished with a smile. “Told ya I’d remember it. It’s going to be fine, let’s just go see your family?” He held out his hand for you to take and you cautiously placed it in his. He tugged you up to the front door, wrapping his arm around your shoulders to ring the doorbell. He left it over your shoulder and leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Trust me, we’ve got this.” He pressed a quick kiss to your cheek but before you could process what he was playing at, your mom had opened the front door.

“Oh, it is our Morgan! Thomas, I told you it was going to be him! Oh, come in, come in,” she ushered you in and your family all appeared, saying their hellos, taking your bags up to your room, placing drinks in your hands and leading you both into the living room. You settled in beside Morgan, your thighs touching each other as he reached over to entangle your hand with his.

“So, Morgan, my daughter hasn’t told us anything yet! How long have you been together?” Your mom said, once everyone was back together and catching up with the two of you.

“Couldn’t have been too recent if you brought him home with you,” Julie said, her skepticism showing through.

“Can’t be too long either since she never told us about him!” James said, nudging her.

Before you could get a word in and defend yourselves, Morgan spoke up. “We started dating five months ago. Might seem a little fast to come home for Christmas but I remember your family pretty well from when I was little. Plus, the schedule lined up really nicely this year so we figured, why not? But we decided to keep it to ourselves for the first little bit, with my job and everything. It can be a really hard adjustment. Especially with the media, I didn’t want them to freak her out.”

“Aw, how sweet of you.”

“Who asked who out?” Ruby said, curled up next to her boyfriend.

“She asked me.” Your heart stopped as Morgan deviated from the plan you’d created. “It was nice, though, so I didn’t have to rack up the courage to ask her the same thing.” He turned towards you, meeting your eyes. To your family, you were recounting your first date and how you’ve been in love since. But Morgan was trying to get away with changing the story and you were civilly throwing daggers at him.

“That’s nice. But you’ve got to get dressed, we’re still going cross country skiing this afternoon.” Julie said, standing up.

“Why?” you whined. “We’re tired from traveling.”

“Then exercise will be good for you. And it’s tradition, you can’t deprive Morgan of that.” The smile she sent you was fake and you could tell, narrowing your eyes at her.

“Yeah, babe, don’t deprive me from family traditions,” he commented, earning a small poke to his side, but you nodded, going to find your warm clothes.

-----

Cypress Mountain was where your family always skied on Christmas Eve. It was a tradition passed on from your grandfather, who’d done it with his father, and your family liked to keep it alive. It was a thirty minute drive, forty five in Vancouver traffic, so your head fell to Morgan’s shoulder. Soon enough, he was shaking you awake.

“We’re here, sleeping beauty,” He said softly, unbuckling your seatbelt. “Ready?”

“The better question is if you’re ready. I’ve been doing this for years,” you laughed, getting out of the car and walking towards the lodge to get Morgan skis.

“Please, I’m an athlete. I’ll be fantastic.” He grabbed your hand and your heart started to beat faster at the cute gesture, only to notice some of your family behind you, watching the two of you. Of course, it was only for show. What else would be for? You reminded yourself.

Twenty minutes later, and you were still watching Mo struggle to clip his skis in, trying not to laugh when he fell over.

“‘I’m an athlete, I’ll be fantastic’” you said, mocking him and he pouted. You unclipped your own skis and held your hands out to help him get up.

“The key is this little latch here,” you said, guiding his foot into the ski. You did the same with the other before getting yourself ready.

“Where would I be without you?” He said, as the two of you, slowly, moved to the track.

“Probably still be on the ground,” you said with a cheeky smile. You knocked his poles with yours. “Want to go this way? It’s easier than the track they’re doing,” you said, referring to the rest of your family.

He looked up at the hill your family, including your little nephew, were already halfway up and shook his head.

“If this is a family tradition, and I’m supposed to be part of your family, I should do it with them. We can join them, I’ll be okay.”

Morgan was right, for the most part. He got the hang of it pretty quickly, and soon enough you were both caught up to your family. He was smiling, and talking with your dad and brothers. You had time to catch up with Ruby and Charlie, who you never really saw in the family Zoom chats.

Until you rounded the corner and saw Morgan standing to the side. You didn’t understand why until you saw what was ahead – the hills. For your family, including daredevil Drew, it was easy. But for a beginner like Morgan? You understood why he stopped.

“If you want to turn back now, it’s okay. They’ll understand.”

He shook his head again. “I’ve got to sell this boyfriend thing, don’t I? Just…can you go first?” You nodded and made your way down, gaining some speed before slowing down and stopping at the base to watch him.

“You’ve got this, Mo, just do it!” You told him. He nodded at your words and came down slowly, mimicking the way you had just conquered the hill. His eyes were determined, the way you saw he was on the ice, and your smile got wider as he made it down successfully.

“Yes! You did it!”

That was, until he caught an edge and very ungracefully tumbled to the ground.

“Well, you mostly did it. I thought you were supposed to be coordinated!” You said in a joking manner, maneuvering over to where he was trying to get up.

“I don’t usually have these long things attached to my feet!” After his attempts, he held his hands out and you helped him stand upright again.

“Are you okay? It looked like you fell pretty hard.”

“My ego is bruised more than anything,” He mumbled.

“Why? None of them saw your wipeout.” You nodded towards your family who were all ahead and had no idea of what had happened.

“But you did.”

“It’s not like you have to impress me,” You said, waving it off and starting to move along the trail. He only huffed, settling into pace beside you.

-----

After making it back to the lodge in one piece, you all traveled back to your parent’s and sat down for a family dinner, albeit quick, as the kids’ bedtime was long ago. You helped your mom with the dishes while Morgan had “bonding time”, as he called it, with your brothers and Dad.

“I’m glad you brought Morgan home, sweetheart,” she said, breaking through the quiet sounds of washing dishes. “He’s a catch and you seem really happy with him.”

You blushed, involuntarily, and nodded. “I am really happy when I’m with him.”

There were sounds of protests and laughter, so you peeked your head around to see Ben on the couch leaning over Morgan’s lap to ruffle James’ hair, only to get caught by Morgan in a loose headlock. Your dad was laughing at their antics and you joined him. It was nice to see Morgan be so carefree, especially with the stress of the season.

“Hey!” Ben got your attention. “Your boyfriend is bullying me, tell him to stop!”

“Maybe you deserved it,” You said, moving to be behind the couch. “Morgan is usually right.”

Morgan looked at you and only let Ben free once you gave me a small nod. You leaned down over the couch, wrapping your arms around his chest. At the slight display of affection, James gagged but thankfully, Izzy came down and whisked away her husband. Ben left shortly after that and you noticed Morgan’s head starting to drop.

“Okay, we’re still on Toronto time a little bit,” You checked with Morgan, who was nodding along. “So we’re going to hit the hay, but Mom, I didn’t see the spare blankets for the pull-out couch?”

“Oh, you don’t need them, Ben has them.”

“What?” You asked, removing your hands from Morgan so he couldn’t tell how clammy they suddenly got. “Where’s Morgan going to sleep?”

“In your bed. It’ll be better for his back.” She answered.

“Where am I going to sleep?”

“In your bed.” She sighed when she saw the shock on your face. “Look, we trust Morgan. Besides, it’s a big bed and your dad and I aren’t under the impression you haven’t already slept together.” Her bluntness made you choke on your breath and Morgan patted your back, answering for you.

“Thank you Brenda. We'll be good, I promise.”

“I know you will. And if you aren’t, know I’m not above telling your mother,” She said with a smirk. “Now, goodnight.”

You both said your goodnights, and headed up to your room. Morgan shut the door behind you and you immediately started apologizing.

“I’m sorry, I was certain she’d send one of us to the basement. She never let Charlie or Izzy sleep in the same room with my siblings until they were married,” you said, rummaging through your suitcase for pajamas.

He waved you off and took a look around your room. It hadn’t changed much since high school, your parents leaving it unchanged for when you came back. The photos in the frames and on the walls were faded and each childhood trophy and trinket was covered in a small layer of dust – not enough for it to be untouched, but enough for it to be preserved.

The sound of you digging through the closet for extra pillows broke him away from your walls. There were two blankets spread out on the floor and you dropped the pillows you’d found on the space above them.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting ready for bed,” You answered. “You can get changed in the bathroom.”

“Why aren’t you in the bed?”

“Because you’re sleeping on the bed, hotshot. Can you please get changed, I want to sleep.” He huffed but nodded, slipping out of the room. When he came back to see you curled up on the floor beside the queen sized bed, he let out a small sigh and moved towards you.

“I’m not going to let you sleep on the floor. Please come sleep on the bed?” He said, standing over top of you.

“I…I don’t want it to be weird.” You said, suddenly interested in the fraying fibres of your blanket.

“It’s not going to be weird. I promise. Please?” You turned to see him with his puppy-dog eyes and you started to break.

“I don’t know Mo…”

“I’d feel better if you slept in the bed, babe, please? For me?” At that, you relented, nodding your head. He helped you up, gathering the blankets from the floor and laying them over you in the bed.

He slipped in beside you, a large margin of space between the two of you. It was silent as you got comfy and you turned off your side table light. Morgan hadn’t followed your lead, so you looked over to see him looking at his side table.

“Remember when we took this picture?” Morgan said, pointing to the only frame on the table. You didn’t even have to look at the photo to know which one he was referring to. It was the last day he spent in Vancouver before the draft and it was a few days before your graduation date. You’d taken your car to the North Shore and hiked to Lighthouse Park. The serenity of being able to see far into the ocean and see the downtown skyline was the place both of you had gone to clear your mind. You’d taken a silly selfie together but it was the one physical memento of your last time together in Vancouver. It was when you almost confessed your feelings to him.

“Of course I do. It was a good day.”

“Do you think about it a lot?” He asked, and you turned your body to face him.

“I mean, sometimes, yeah. Do you think about it a lot?”

He nodded, his eyes fixated on the picture. “Yeah. Reminds me of when life seemed normal.”

You stayed silent for a few moments, watching his eyes begin to get hazy looking at the picture. “Are you okay, Mo?”

He just nodded curtly, and turned off the light. “Goodnight.”

You couldn’t lie and say his behaviour didn’t feel like a thousand cuts to your heart but you said goodnight before turning to face away from him, like he’d done to you.

-----

The sun shining in from the window woke you up in the morning. You started to stir, stretching your arms and legs, but stopped when you felt arms around you. You slowly turned your head to see Morgan close to you, his arms wrapped around your waist. Sometime during the night, he must’ve moved to start cuddling you. You thought it should feel weird, being so close to your friend like this, but all you felt was a sense of calm. Being hyper aware of his arms, you shifted slightly to face him.

You took the opportunity to look at him, really look at him. Not on the TV, through his hockey gear, not in the cafe when he was conscious that anyone could recognize him, but when he was just him. The sun was shining on him, giving his skin that soft golden glow. The lines on his forehead were almost nonexistent and his beard was filling out nicely. He looked so peaceful here, like he wasn’t one of Toronto’s biggest stars. You looked at him, your face softening as he started to stir under your gaze.

“Morning sleeping beauty,” you teased in a quiet voice, the same way he’d done to you yesterday.

“Hmm, what time is it?” His voice was raspy and it took everything in yourself not to kiss him right there.

“Early,” you answered and he hummed in response. He slowly opened his eyes and must’ve noticed how close he was to you because his eyes got increasingly wider. His eyes met yours and when he didn’t see any panic or disgust in them, he relaxed, a small smile coming onto his face.

“Morning babe,” He said, pulling you a little closer to him.

“Nobody’s around, you don’t have to call me that.”

“What if I want to?”

You looked up at him, eyes wide in shock and your lips parted. What did he say? It might have been a shock to your brain, but your body seemed to long for a closeness to him. Your heart wasn’t beating faster, no, it seemed to slow down, as if the idea of a relationship with him was the only thing to calm you.

You noticed his eyes glancing down at your lips and you swallowed. Was he…what was he doing? He started to lean his head towards you and you felt yourself leaning in as well. He was close enough you could feel his breath hot on your face and see the grey flicks in his eyes. You started to close your eyes, his hand caressing your waist from under the covers, and —

“Auntie, Auntie! He came! Santa came! You have to get up! Come see!” Drew yelled through the door, pounding away as if you didn’t hear him. You broke away from Morgan, the small bubble popped by your nephew.

“We’ll be right there Drew!” you yelled back, rubbing your forehead and getting out of bed. You left Morgan in bed, running downstairs to start some coffee, desperately needing to clear your head. What just happened?

“Morning, sweetheart!” You sighed as your mom walked into the room, too chipper for how early it was. “I’ve got the pajamas for you and Morgan.”

“Morgan too?” It was a tradition to dress in matching pajamas on Christmas morning but you didn’t think it was something your parents would enforce for him.

“Yup. Go get changed, I want to take photos soon.” She placed the two pajama sets in your arms and you trudged upstairs. You figured Mo was still laying in bed so you didn’t knock, just charged right in. Maybe you should’ve knocked. But then you wouldn’t get to see Morgan shirtless. Your brain short-circuited until you saw him looking back at you and you shut your eyes.

“I’m sorry, I forgot to knock! My mom wanted me to give you these. Matching pajamas and photos before gifts is a family tradition.” You tried to pull out his pair with your eyes closed but Mo just laughed when he saw you struggling. He came closer, his distinctive cologne invading your senses. He took one of the pairs, hopefully his size, from your arms.

“You can open your eyes, it’s okay.” You slowly opened one eye to test the waters, to see he was still without a shirt. You stared at him as long as it is socially acceptable to look at your best friend shirtless, before rushing out of the room to get changed yourself.

You beat Morgan downstairs, and got started on the coffees. After buying him many hungover wake-up coffees, you knew his order by heart. You brought them out to the table, your sister and her family having their portrait taken in front of the tree.

Mo came up from behind you, wrapping his arms around you and taking a whiff of your coffee. He recoiled at the hint of chocolate.

“Yours has vanilla creamer, don’t worry,” you told him, taking a sip while watching Taylor get her first family photo in front of the tree. It was so nice to see the smiles across your family’s faces as you had this tradition. When it became Ben and Ruby’s turn, you noticed Drew starting to get a little antsy, his eyes fixated on the big box with his name on it.

“Okay, sweetheart, yours and Morgan’s turn,” your mom said, clearing the area for you two to sit.

“Oh, Mom, Drew’s looking a little antsy. We can skip ours–”

“No!” Mo interrupted you, taking one last sip of his coffee before tugging you along to sit in front of the tree. You gave him a look and smiled shyly. “It’s our first Christmas together. I want a picture. Please?”

“Well, since you asked so nicely.” You turned to the camera, plastering a smile on. You were pretty close to him, your legs touching and his arm around your shoulders. Near the end, Morgan pressed a kiss to your cheek and you blushed, the sound of the camera clicking long forgotten as you stared into his eyes.

“Auntie, can I please please open my presents from Santa now?” Drew said, once again interrupting the moment between you and Morgan.

“Of course, baby, but you have to open the ones from me and Morgan next, deal?” He shrieked and scrambled over to the boxes, ripping into his wrapping paper. You stood up, grabbing your coffee before watching your nephew and niece on Christmas morning.

“Look at how cute you two are together,” She said, tilting the camera towards you. The first one was a cute photo. Morgan had his lips pressed against your cheek and your face was scrunched up in joy. She switched it to the next one, where the two of you were looking into each other’s eyes. He had the softest, earnest smile on his face. “I swear, I haven’t seen any people so in love since Ben met Ruby. I’m so glad you brought him home.”

“Thanks, Mom.” You put on the best fake-smile you could, and turned back to the kids, trying not to think about how they two of you did look in love. But it wasn’t real and your stomach sunk. You took a seat on the couch, talking to Rebekah about her new doll and watching Drew drive his toy cars across the coffee table.

“Who are these from?” you dad asked, holding up some small packages wrapped in blue paper.

“Oh, those are from me sir.” Morgan spoke up from behind you, moving to sit beside you. “There should be one for everyone.” Your dad nodded and handed them out to everyone while you turned to your fake-boyfriend.

“Mo, I told you you didn’t have to bring anything,” you said, eyeing everyone tearing into their small gifts.

“Now what kind of boyfriend would I be if I didn’t?” He winked at you, before turning to see their reactions. You were glad you’d turned too.

Everyone was holding up a different variety of a Toronto Maple Leafs keychain. Ben held one with a bottle opener on it and Drew held one that had skate on it. Some of them had the shape of Ontario with them or a special spinny part in the middle.

“You’re really banking on us liking you, eh?” Julie said, holding up her Rielly jersey keychain.

“I’m planning on sticking around for a while. I figure you’ll be fans sooner or later,” he laughed off your sister’s hazing and assured your parents it was the least he could do. He turned to you. “And I didn’t forget you either.”

“What? No. Babe, I thought we were doing gifts back in Toronto?” If you’d known, you would’ve gotten him something, but he seemed unfazed. He brought out a medium box and placed it in your lap.

“Are you sure? I didn’t bring anything for you,” you whispered to him. He just nodded and told you to open it. You ripped into the wrapping paper, opened the box, and tore out the tissue paper only to stop.

“You didn’t.”

“I did,” He said, his face growing. “Bring it out, let’s see it.”

You lifted out of the box a dark wash denim jacket, the same one you’d been trying to rationalize buying for the past three months. It was your size and you couldn’t help but run your fingers over the seams, tracing the buttons.

“Check the inside,” Morgan said, leaning over your shoulder. You turned your head to see him slightly blushing, and you turned to the jacket’s inside as quickly as you could. Inside there was a small label stitched in. Upon closer inspection, you read what it said and your breath hitched.

You’ve got a smile that could light up this whole town. Don’t forget it. Love, your Morgan

“Mo, I don’t even know what to say. This is-this is perfect. I love it, thank you.”

“You’re welcome.” He pressed a kiss to your temple, before slipping out of the room, both empty mugs in his hands. Your heart started to beat faster again, and as you stared down at the inscription, you had to remind yourself that it didn’t mean anything special. He was acting like your boyfriend, but he wasn’t your boyfriend. This was all fake, and this must’ve been a part of it; a show for your family to make sure you didn’t get in trouble.

You shoved those feelings deep inside you, instead focusing on the Christmas spirit your family had. The living room was full of laughs and someone had turned on the Christmas music. Morgan came back and sat beside you, his arm resting comfortably over the back of the couch and you couldn’t help but curl into his side. The kids came over and asked to play with Morgan and he eagerly agreed, switching from playing cars to dolls to lifting them up to play the airplane game. Like the Grinch, your heart grew three sizes watching him interact with your family – the way he was so patient and sweet with them meant everything, even if he was just pretending.

Later, your Grams arrived and Morgan was quick to win her over as well. You bit your lip, trying to stop from smiling so wide as you watched him help her with her coat, and lead her over to where he was sitting.

“Do you mind holding her for a few minutes?” Izzy said, coming over with Taylor in her arms.

“Of course not! Come ‘ere, darling girl.” You rocked the baby in your arms, sometimes looking over to where Morgan was. Sometimes you even catch him looking at you. You took Taylor’s little hand and waved at him, and he over-enthusiastically waved back, making you laugh.

“You picked a good one, you know? The two of you are really adorable together.” Izzy said, coming back to take her daughter from you.

“Thanks Iz. He’s just…” You trailed off, trying to describe the situation. “I couldn’t imagine doing all of this with anyone else.” And it was the truth. From the plane ride to skiing to the gifts this morning, you couldn’t fathom bringing back a stranger and pulling this off in the same way.

“Sounds like you’ve found the one then.” Her comment made you choke on air and turned into a full coughing fit. Before you knew it, Morgan was beside you, his blue eyes full of concern.

“Are you okay?” His hand was rubbing your upper back as you continued to cough. You nodded as best you could, and he turned to get his cup. When you seemed to be finished, he handed it to you.

“Here, drink. It’s water.” You gulped down the water and sighed.

“Thank you.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m good, thank you. I’m just going to get my lip balm; will you be okay on your own for a while?” You asked, placing a hand on his arm.

“It’s your family, not war,” He laughed. “Go, I’ll be fine.”

You smiled at his comment and gave him a quick cheek peck before making your way out of the room. In the bathroom, you took a breather, trying to stop your cheeks from blushing. Whatever you were doing with Morgan, it felt real. But it wasn’t, and you had to keep reminding yourself of that before you got hurt.

When you exited, Grams was standing outside the door.

“Sorry, I didn’t realize someone was waiting,” you said, quickly leaving the bathroom but she waved you off.

“Oh, I haven’t been here that long. But dear, my goodness, that Morgan. He’s a keeper, dear. You hold onto him, you hear me? With him, you’ll be happy for the rest of your life.” She said, patting your cheek before walking past you to the bathroom. You stood in shock for a moment at her words, before taking a deep breath and moving on.

You were just friends.

You repeated that to yourself as you sat next to him, pressing a kiss to his shoulder. You repeated it again when he moved your legs into his lap, caressing your ankle. You said it again when he snagged the race car, arguably the best Monopoly piece, only to give it to you, taking the lame iron for himself.

“Hey, can I talk to you?” Julie said, tapping your shoulder, just before Monopoly (another family tradition) started. You nodded, and lifted your legs out of Mo’s lap. You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before following her into the kitchen.

“What’s up?”

“I wanted to apologize.” You furrowed your brows a little bit. “You know, for thinking your relationship was fake? It was wrong for me to think your relationship wasn’t serious but…I was just trying to look out for Mom and Dad. You don’t see how worried they get when you say you don’t have anyone in that big city. You’re the youngest, they’re always going to worry. And it’s just …You never even remotely told me about anyone and I didn’t want you to be faking it, just to get them off your back. But I was wrong and I’m sorry if it seemed like I was doubting your relationship. He’s perfect for you, and you seem really happy together.”

It was everything you’d been wanting to hear – that even the most skeptic of your family bought your lie and was happy for Christmas. But no relief came like you thought it would; only a lump forming in your throat. “Thanks Julie, that…that means a lot. Would you excuse me please?”

You slipped out of the room, taking the stairs two at a time. You paced around for a few moments, before sitting on the edge of your bed, placing your head in your hands. You’ve gotten in too deep now and it’s going to hurt everyone — yourself included — when you have a ‘breakup’. Your mom will resent Morgan, sweet sweet Morgan, and he’ll probably get chewed out by his own mother, and it’ll all be your fault. You did this to your family, to Morgan, to yourself.

“What’s wrong?” Morgan said, leaning against your doorframe.

“Julie thinks we’re dating. Like for real. They all do. ” At your words, he pushed off the wall and sat beside you on the bed, his hands dangerously close to touching yours. You move them into your lap before you can’t function.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes.”

“I thought that was the whole point of this? To make them think we’re dating?”

“No, it was. It’s just….” You trailed off, looking down at your hands.

“It’s just what?”

“It’s too much, okay!” You stood up and turned to face him. “Like you’re here. You’re in Vancouver again, with me again, in my parent’s house like we’re fifteen again! You can’t be around like this and expect me not to think about the road not taken! And it doesn’t seem to bother you! And I don’t like lying! I don’t need to be lying to both our families, your teammates, my friends! I don’t need to be lying to myself that I don’t enjoy this! It feels wrong. I know we lied a lot as kids, but it feels different this time. It feels like people are going to get hurt and I don’t think I was prepared for that.”

He took a moment. “We don’t have to lie, you know.”

“What do you mean? We’re fake dating; fake indicating lies.” You crossed your arms across your chest.

He took another moment, taking a deep breath. “We don’t have to be fake dating. We could…be dating for real.”

“What?” you whispered.

“Can I be honest here? Like really honest?” He asked, and you could only nod slightly. “I thought you would’ve got your head out of your ass by now. I thought you had feelings for me.

"Why do you think you said my name? You could’ve said any other name but you said mine. You could’ve found any other Morgan in Toronto but you asked me. You could’ve come clean to them! There were a thousand ways you could’ve gotten out of this but you didn’t! I thought that meant we had something special; that you were finding excuses to bring me here.” He sees your blank, shocked face as a sign to continue.

“And now that we’re here? Back in our hometown? It just all rushes back to me about how I didn’t tell you how I felt. Then I spend the days doing your family traditions and seeing you so happy with Drew and Rebekah and thinking that I could’ve had this a long time ago. But I was a coward and I don’t know if I can make the same mistake again.”

“What are you talking about?” You said breathlessly.

“When we were at Lighthouse Park that day, I almost told you I loved you. But I didn’t. And I went to Toronto and tried to forget the huge regret I’d made. I can’t- I can’t do that again. I love you. I have loved you since we were kids. I didn’t want you to be tied down when you moved out so I didn’t say anything and I tried to forget how I felt about you. But in two days, you’ve made me fall for you all over again and I can’t go back to how things were. I won’t. I don’t want to be your fake boyfriend when I am irrevocably in love with you. I want this,” He stood up and walked closer to you, his fingers reaching out for yours. “I want this to be real.”

“Mo…holy shit.”

“Yeah. It’s a lot, I know.” He went to step back, to give you space after everything he said, but you held onto his hand tighter.

“No, like holy shit, I was going to tell you I loved you that day too.” One of your hands traveled to rest on his cheekbone as you caressed his soft skin. “I didn’t want to give you more pressure as you started your career; that wouldn’t be fair. But some part of me has always wanted this to be real.”

“Really?” The corners of your mouth started to lift up as you nodded. “Can I kiss you?” He asked, ever the gentleman.

“Please.” And less than a second later, his mouth was on yours. Maybe it was a good thing you waited so long, because this was better than anything you could’ve imagined at eighteen. His hands found your waist, and pulled you closer, deepening the kiss.

When you finally pulled away for air, you pressed your forehead against his. “Wow.”

“You’re telling me.” You giggled at him and played with the hair at the nape of his neck.

“Guess you can tell the team we’re dating for real life now.”

He laughed and pulled you in for another kiss. “For real life, eh?”

“For real life. As long as you’ll have me. ”

“Forever then, babe.” He winked, squeezing you tight. “Now let’s go join the family, yeah? Gotta beat my in-laws at Monopoly.”

His antics had you in laughter all the way down the stairs, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. There was happiness because of him.

taglist (join here): @heatherawoowoo @4ambagelbites @typical-simplelove @2manytabsopen @stars-canucks @lorrmorr @fallinallincurls @plds2000 @barzysandhughesbaby @yummygoldenfood @drei-mrssvechii @bananarantanen @pulpfixion

#the winter fic exchange 2k23 #morgan rielly #morgan rielly imagine #morgan rielly fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl x reader #toronto maple leafs fic #toronto maple leafs imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #abby writes #fun fact i have had parts of this idea since i heard the song for the first time and im so glad to finally get it all out there for this <3

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makkarisbelova · 5 months

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The Möbius Strip

A post-finale drabble because I’m in my feels and accidentally wrote myself further downward into my spiral so fair warning this is rough anyways enjoy x

••••••••

Things, as they have always seemed to do, grow further away from him now.

In this sense, Loki supposes not much has changed for him. He forgot for a moment, he thinks. Forgot how inescapable isolation was. Admitting to your fear of being alone is a sad, sad thing, especially when it does nothing to change the possibility of ending up alone anyway.

There was a time where being lonely, for him, was a result of being incompatible. He felt out of touch with the world, felt as though he were in a space he wasn’t supposed to inhabit. He was oil in water: resisted at the chemical level. And Thor tried his best, really. Loki spent a lot of years being painstakingly angry with his brother for not doing enough, but he did what he could. His father, he’s still unsure of. Asguard, he can’t say. But Thor did his best. Maybe it was just doomed from the start.

Now, on the other hand, his anger is gone. Much still burdens him, but unlike the rest of his life, it is a loneliness he can bear. Rotten, really. The loneliness is still so rotten. But he chose this rotten work. He chose it out of love.

Time is his purpose, both glorious and burdensome. But love is his reason, and there is no sense in purpose without a reason for fulfilling it.

So yes, in a way he likes what he’s doing now. He gets to witness all of time and life in the grasp of his hand, branching out and filling a cosmic expanse. Life courses and weaves itself around the crevices of his knuckles, and it’s heavy, Gods is it heavy, but it’s safe. They’re safe.

Still, it comes forth from him, not with him. He’s frozen, keeping a firm grasp on timelines which stretch into an abyss beyond his sight. As things branch out, they branch away.

All but one.

There’s a timeline which keeps getting out of line. Loki’s learned there’s a very specific, natural flow of all the timeline branches, how even in nature and space there are patterns which all substance must adhere to. Only one goes against the grain now. It takes a sharp turn and bows inwards, back towards Loki, shaped like a perpetually bent thread trying to tickle the skin of its wearer.

It’s a pesky little thing, really. It pulses with light, making it’s way upstream. The branch is never in any danger or peril, never hostile or erratic, but still subjecting itself to more struggle than is needed. Quite the fighter. It’s almost impressive.

Loki tries rather casually, without ever needing to move a muscle now (and Gods does he ever miss the days where he got his hands dirty, because he can practically feel his muslces atrophying now and it’s unbearably fatiguing) but all that gets him is a jolt to his nerves, a twitch in his heart as the bent branch reaches back towards him. Even though it doesn’t stop growing, it refuses to leave Loki’s side.

And then he hears it. A voice, soft and meant only for him, beckons him.

It starts off with a familiar phrase. “… Let time pass.”

Loki feels its familiarity before really registering the meaning of the words. He registers the gentle twang of a voice which has acted as a pillar for him more often than not, a single thread of sound from a pair of lips, a collection of vibrations tethered to him. Mobius.

And achingly, miraculously, it’s whispering his name.

Nothing else, really. There’s a long beat of silence which could be a couple of minutes or a dozen years. It’s hard for Loki to tell now. But no other words are uttered. Just his. His name. Loki.

“Loki,” Mobius’ voice whispers— over, and over, and over. “Loki… Loki… Loki…”

Loki’s bottom lip trembles, but he doesn’t dare try and answer. Not at first anyway. Who knows if it would even reach Mobius? Or any of the others, for that matter. Loki isn’t supposed to have contact. He doesn’t want to. Involvement was at the root of evil for He Who Remains. He Who Remains controlled and manipulated and picked a timeline of his own choosing, slaughtering the rest.

Only He Who Remains was Loki now, and Loki wouldn’t. Loki would never.

So he listens. He listens to Mobius calling out his name. Time passes. Everything in Loki is still, save for his racing, throbbing, breaking heart. And then, he watches.

He watches the timeline the voice is originating from as it refuses to branch away, as it grows inwards, deformed. And he tries to flick it away for its own good, but it stays there. So he watches it.

It starts to twist at a certain point. The torsion worries Loki at first. He needn’t worry. Mobius keeps calling his name, and somehow that’s proof enough that everything is okay. So still, Loki watches.

 The timeline twists itself into a ring shape of sorts. Loki’s eyes never leave it, even with the strain of all other timelines in his hands and around his ankles. This rogue timeline creeps around his wrist and morphs itself into some donut shape, like a bracelet with a twist in it.

The twist is what intrigues Loki. Its ends press together— not firm enough to impede its process of infinite growth, but firm enough to make it seem like a closed shape— and expands slowly, shrinking slightly after a moment and then growing again, like a rising and falling chest which grows to the rhythm of Loki’s pulse. And as Loki stares at it, every fiber of its existence, he sees it.

The shape of it is recognizable, and only lasts for a moment. With the twist, the branch appears for a moment to be a single, never ending loop. A one-sided shape folded into eternity. Everlasting. Like love, he thinks. And that’s what it is: love.

A Möbius strip.

The timelines relaxes itself back into its standard pattern of growth almost as quickly and easily as it had transformed. No longer against the grain, it roams free again once Mobius goes quiet.

Loki, unflinching yet still letting a tears fall down his cheek, watches it unfold with reverence. Here lay Loki, the God of stories, keeper of all time, burdened with glorious purpose, and the whispering of his name nearly tempts him to his knees.

It’s important to know that he doesn’t give into that temptation. Loki remains firmly planted on his throne, head high and mind numb. If the branch’s momentary geometric performance was an expression of Mobius’ love for Loki, then Loki returns that love by never flinching. Everything relies on him never flinching, on keeping him frozen there, where all time begins and ends. If not for his own peace of mind, then for the happiness of his loved ones. For Thor, Sylvie, Ouroboros. And for Mobius.

He sits, still as rock, and suddenly isn’t lonely anymore. Mobius, whether he intended to or not, made his presence known to Loki, and that means more to him than Mobius will ever know.

Only then, when he collects himself and dries his tears, does he let himself whisper in return. “Mobius.”

#marvel #mcu #loki #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #loki season 2 #loki spoilers #loki s2 #loki series #mobius #lokius #mobius x loki #loki x mobius #abby writes #fanfic #drabble #mcu drabble

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monpetitchattriste · 7 months

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Here is a small drabble I did about Ladybug wanting to be with Chat but knowing she can't.

Impossible.

That's what they were. Always and forever, they would be impossible. No matter which way the earth would turn, they would never truly be with each other.

Maybe that comforted her a little bit at night, or maybe it just added to the anxieties in her mind.

Either way, she just knew that they would be doomed from the beginning.

And maybe that was the thrill of it, knowing that no matter what happened, it would always end the same way. There was no risk if you knew the consequences.

So she lied. To herself. To him.

What started as a small lie grew.

A kiss on the cheek won't hurt. She thought to herself as she leaned in and placed a small kiss to his left cheek. And it was worth it.

To see his eyes light up with surprise and happiness. A small red hue peeked out from under his mask. The way his cat ears seemed to perk up more, and his whole demeanor changed.

And she would think, maybe it doesn't have to be this way, maybe they could work.

But then they would go their separate ways, and she would be reminded that they would never work.

Ladybug and Chat Noir were impossible.

Their love destroyed worlds.

Yet late at night she couldn't help but wonder, dream, plead to whoever would listen that maybe just maybe they could be together. She knew in her soul that they could be possible.

It didn't matter how many tears she cried or sunrises she watched after countless sleepless nights. The universe would never grant her those wishes.

So her lie grew even more.

A peck on the lips won't hurt. She knew it was cruel toying with Chat’s feelings like this. But that didn't stop her.

"See you next time, M'lady." He held two fingers to his forehead, saluting to her as he extended his staff and readied himself to jump off into the night.

Now was her chance. She had to know what his lips tasted like. Just a peck.

"Wait!" Her voice sounded a little too desperate.

He stopped and let his baton collapse into itself. "What?" Chat looked at her with confusion in her eyes.

And before she could stop herself, she stepped forward and kissed him.

Then, just like that, she ran away, swinging into the night sky, not wanting to see the reaction he had.

She would again lay awake at night, letting her fingers trace her lips forever, thinking about that kiss.

He tasted like honey and sunshine. And left her craving more.

She liked him a lot. Even if she didn't want to admit it out loud or even to herself, she knew deep down she liked him.

So she continued with the lie.

Chaste kisses become ones of fiery passions.

So she would let this romance continue because nothing was at stake when she lied.

#miraculous ladybug #miraculous #miraculous lb #ladybug #chat noir #miraculous fanfiction #ml drabble #small fic #Abby writes #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #ladynoir

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killianxswan · 5 months

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264 words of smut for your evening <3

The Dark One conjured the mirror out of thin air, tall and wide and hiding nothing from his gaze.

She saw it once he had removed the black smoke acting as a blindfold with a snap of his fingers.

“Look at yourself, Swan. Look how pathetic you are, gagged and tied in your very own bedroom. We were once meant to share this house together, if I recall correctly.”

Emma said nothing, pushing her cheek further into the mattress and ignoring his degradation. His blatant disgust for the life they had once dreamed of together. The Dark One grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her upright and giving her a full view of her pitiful state. The black smoke was bound around her torso, intertwined with the same magical means that held her arms behind her back and her shoulders taught, allowing him to grope her breasts and admire them as her chest heaved.

“Answer me when I speak to you, or you will regret it.”

Emma nodded reluctantly, keeping her eyes Killian and ignoring the mirror.

“That’s a good girl,” he sneered as he undid his trousers and climbed up on the bed behind her. “But, I’m still going to make you regret it. Regret what you did to me. Who you made me.” Emma whimpered as much as the smoke would allow, her heart aching for the man she once knew. Tears swelled in her eyes at the bitterness of his tone.

"And don't even think about closing your eyes, Swan. I want you to watch me when I fuck you."

#abby writes #dark hook #captain swan #cs smut #captain swan smut #is this whumpy enough to tag whump??#i want him to take her from behind hard and fast dfkfkf

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ilyamatic · 6 months

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a double minded existence

#poetry #abby writes #pls poetry is not my usual thing but i had to get this out

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abby118 · 3 months

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✨Having someone who is invested in your story and discusses it with you is like a solid half of the fun of writing. I'm not even kidding.✨

#my writing #my fanfic #fanfiction #fic #abby talks

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strangeswift · 10 months

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Mike,

I know you probably didn’t expect a goodbye letter from me. Or maybe you did, I don’t know. You’re my friend, so I'm writing one.

I know I’ve been closed off lately. I think you understand, though, probably better than anyone else. Because you do it too. I don’t know if it’s because you’re scared, like me, or if you really are just an asshole. I think it might be both.

Sorry. I don’t want my last words to you to be that you're an asshole. (Even if you are.) The entire point of these letters is to get things off my chest before I die, so I guess I’ll tell you things I’ve never told you.

I wanted to be your friend so badly when I moved here. I wanted to be included in the party, but I also just wanted your approval, because you didn’t want me to be in the group, and that felt like a rejection. I’m not good at those. I felt like I needed to convince you I was worth having around.

I get it now though. It wasn’t about me. You had your own shit going on. I really, really get it now. In case this is something you even need to hear, I forgive you. And I’m sorry we fought sometimes. If I wasn’t about to die, I wouldn’t say this, but it wasn’t all your fault. You were worried about El, and I get that.

You care about people. Really care. It seems like maybe you’re starting to think that’s a bad thing. It’s not. I started to think it was, and that’s what got me into this mess in the first place. So, at the risk of sounding like the biggest hypocrite in the world, I’m asking you to stop pushing Lucas away. He’s gonna need you when I’m gone.

And El, I need you to be there for her. You're her person. Even if you break up again, and even if you can't fix it this time, you still have to be there. I know you will, but I had to say it anyway.

Thanks for letting me be your Zoomer. It was fun while it lasted, right?

Max

#mike wheeler #max mayfield #platonic madwheeler #abby writes

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moonlightperseus · 6 days

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Being in love with Buck wasn’t an option.

It can’t be an option.

Because if it was, Eddie might do something stupid, like kiss his best friend.

Which is—not an option.

Eddie’s done that song and dance before, and that ended badly—leaving and being left, divorce papers, blood on hot asphalt.

But the thing is, Eddie can’t stop thinking about it. It’s been over a month since Buck came out to him, and Eddie can’t stop thinking about how Buck is an option now.

Which isn’t even entirely true, because Buck is with Tommy—Buck is happy with Tommy—and Eddie feels like his entire world is collapsing in on itself.

#you know what. fuck it. i will post just the beginning of this fic and nothing else god bless #buddie #911 fic #911 #911 spoilers #kind of #eddie diaz #my fic #my writing #abby writes #mine #okay tumblrinas is this something. should i finish this. you guys have to tell me i need instant gratification

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sylvies-chen · 2 months

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*UPDATE* Of Sun and Stone — a Chenford superpower!AU

Chapter 7 is now POSTED!

Read on AO3

#the rookie #chenford #lucy chen #tim bradford #melissa o'neil #lucy x tim #tim x lucy #abby writes #chenford fanfic #chenford au

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undoing-anobrains · 8 months

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you bring me home

part five

series masterlist

wc- 3.4K

There truly wasn't a more rewarding feeling for Caroline than peeling off her scrubs at the end of a long day. During her time off where she had been apart of a large global research project investigating the possibilities of electron powered beams becoming more mainstream and not being restricted to highly specialised treatment sites, the thing she had missed most was interacting with patients. They were the reason she became interested in the career in the first place.

Getting to witness the difference she made in her patients lives was what motivated her to keep going everyday, no matter how stressful things got. That kind of feeling couldn't be matched in academic work where you didn't actually get to see the way your research could change somebody's prognosis. Knowing that her actions literally saved lives fuelled her, pushed her to keep advocating for her patients ensuring their needs were met.

On her way out of the hospital Caroline chatted idly to one of the other girls who worked on her unit, groaning internally when she caught sight of the rain pelting against the path staining it a deep grey with an unrivalled ferocity - so much for it supposedly being summer. She was not looking forward to walking back to the studio in this downpour without an umbrella.

Somehow the universe must have heard the string of explicit insults running through her mind because suddenly, like a mythical apparition of sorts, Louis pulls up in a car she recognises to be Matty's and he comes to a startling halt at the side of the road. Offering a quick goodbye to Mara, Caroline doesn't hesitate to jump into the empty passenger seat of the car and get shelter from the torrent drenching her clothes.

"I would ask what you're doing here, but boy am I glad to see you so I won't," were the first words that left Caroline's mouth once she closed the door.

"Matty sent me," Louis said bluntly, as if tossing a casual bombshell into the conversation. Caroline's heart gave an involuntary flutter, a reaction she quickly masked behind a raised eyebrow.

Louis was so brusque with his delivery sometimes. As if he isn't fully aware of how Caroline won't spend the rest of the ride home figuring out what his intention was. She doesn't want to read too much into it. To allow herself even entertain feelings she's trying to keep under lock and key.

“Oh, really?" Caroline responded with a calculated nonchalance, though her mind was already racing, attempting to decipher the motives behind Matty's unexpected gesture. She mentally chastised herself for even contemplating the idea that it might be more than just a thoughtful offer.

Louis seemed unperturbed by her reaction, his fingers tapping a rhythm on the steering wheel. "Yeah, he wanted to come and get you himself when he noticed it had started pouring, but him and George have been stuck doing album promo all day. So, he thought he'd spare you the rain."

The sweetness of the gesture tugged at Caroline's heartstrings, but she quickly reined in her emotions. She had learned to keep her feelings in check, to guard her heart against the unexpected. "Oh, that was kind of him," she replied, her tone nonchalant, though a soft warmth settled in her chest. "I appreciate you coming, Lou. Even if it is extremely embarrassing that the kid I used to babysit is driving me home."

Louis laughed, a sound that was a blend of amusement and camaraderie. "Trust me, Caro, I'm getting a kick out of it too. Ten times right?"

Caroline smirked at the memory, it was genuinely impressive how many times she'd failed. Poor Hann had been an absolute saint and she was still making it up to him to this day by buying his drinks whenever they hung out. "Uncalled for," she shook her head playfully "you don't see me bringing up the November 2014 incident at any given moment do you?."

Louis paled "yeah no, let's repress that memory again thanks."

The drive continued in comfortable silence, the sound of rain pattering against the windows providing a soothing backdrop to their conversation. Caroline's gaze wandered out to the city streets, her thoughts a mixture of gratitude and confusion. She couldn't help but replay Louis' words in her mind, dissecting the intentions behind them.

"Actually, Lou," she began, her tone casual but laced with curiosity, "I've been meaning to ask...is there any particular reason why I've been coming home to dinner everyday. Not that I'm complaining or anything, it's actually pretty good."

Louis glanced at her with a sly grin, his eyes twinkling mischievously. "Oh, you mean aside from the fact that Matty seems to think you're incapable of eating or getting home without some sort of assistance?"

Caroline rolled her eyes, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Oh, come on. I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself."

Louis chuckled again, a knowing look in his eyes. "I don't doubt that for a second, Caro. But you've got to admit, he's kind of got a point. You're a bit of a workaholic."

Caroline sighed, her lips curving into a reluctant smile. "Fine, I'll give him that much. But it's not like I'm incapable of cooking or getting home. He's just... being overly nice."

Louis smirked, a teasing edge to his voice. "Overly nice, huh? Is that what we're calling it now?"

Caroline couldn't help but laugh, shaking her head at Louis' playful antics. "You're a troublemaker, you know that?"

Louis shrugged nonchalantly, his grin unapologetic. "Someone's got to keep things interesting. And well, you guys have been very entertaining recently.

"How so?" Caroline quirked an eyebrow playing dumb.

He leaned back against the car headrest, his expression seemingly permanently mischievous now. "Well, I hate to break it to you, but you and Matty are starting to look a lot like an old married couple."

Caroline burst out laughing, her cheeks flushing slightly. "Oh, come on, Louis. Don't be ridiculous."

Louis grinned, clearly enjoying her reaction. "I'm serious! I mean, the way he's making you coffee every morning, late night chats, cooking dinner for you... It's all very domestic, isn't it?"

Caroline shook her head, trying to suppress her laughter. "You're reading way too much into it, Louis. We're just friends."

"Sure, just friends," Louis replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. "I've seen couples with less chemistry, that's all I'm saying."

Caroline rolled her eyes, unable to hide her amusement. "Louis, you're impossible."

He winked at her, his grin widening. "Hey, just looking out for my honorary and hopefully future big sister. Make me best man at the wedding yeah?"

Caroline couldn't help but chuckle at Louis' antics . "Trust me, there's nothing going on between us. Although in the hypothetical scenario that there was...you and G are probably fighting for that title."

Louis gave her a mock salute. "Rude, here I was thinking I was your favourite brother. But don't say I didn't warn you when Matty starts insisting on holding hands and sharing a toothbrush."

Caroline shook her head, laughing softly. "You're incorrigible."

Louis opened his arms in a dramatic gesture. "Hey, I'm just here to provide quality entertainment."

Upon their return to the studio they discover that Matty and George aren't home. Caroline is worried momentarily until she notices that Mayhem is also gone and since the rain has just cleared up she figures they've just brought him for a walk. Louis promptly busies himself with calling back his mum, leaving Caroline to eat dinner alone.

She's extremely touched when she unwraps the tinfoil covering a blue ceramic dish left by the stove for her. The boys seem to take turns with cooking meals but she can tell that this is Matty's handywork as soon as she unveils it. As much as he takes the piss out of her for constantly eating vegan dishes while not actually being a vegan he seems to make an effort and actually go out of his way to respect it when he is responsible for making dinner. And in perhaps the most surprising turn of events since the beginning of lockdown - he's actually turned into a half decent cook.

These altered dynamics and sudden domesticity was like finding the missing pieces of a puzzle she hadn't realised was incomplete. With every smile he offered, every inside joke they shared, a new piece fell into place, revealing a picture she had ripped up years ago and buried deep down. His presence filled the gaps she had never acknowledged, his laughter stitching together the moments of joy she had overlooked. Each stolen glance, each shared silence, they were like intricately carved fragments that slid seamlessly into the mosaic of emotions she held for him.

Her mind wandered back to the days when she was engaged, when she believed she had found her forever. The memories were tinged with a bittersweet taste now, as if a layer of clarity had been added to the recollections of her past. And as the pieces fell into place, she couldn't help but acknowledge the stark contrast between her past and her present.

It was a truth that, once seen, couldn't be unseen. Matty's reappearance in her life had been a revelation. One that had dug up her past affections and put them on display again. She had made such an effort once she finally realised that she was never going to be anything more than George's little sister and a fan to him to move on and get over him. Yet as fate would have it he had ambushed her heart once again. It was never overly grand gestures but Caroline had never been keen on overdramatic declarations of love, it was the little things, the daily acts of kindness that wove a tapestry of warmth around her.

The realisation dawned on her with a quiet ache—the depth of effort Matty put into making her feel special was unlike anything she had experienced before. From the mornings when he ensured there was a steaming cup of coffee waiting for her to the evenings where they would bring Mayhem out on long walks along the winding, isolated country roads never shutting up, to the times where he did his interviews in the same room as her when she had time off work because he valued her company even if her mere presence did distract him constantly, he consistently showed up for her in ways that her ex-fiancé never did.

It wasn't just the material gestures, though. It was the late-night conversations that brought solace, the unexpected text messages that brightened her day, and the moments of shared laughter that became the soundtrack of their newfound relationship? If you could call it that - it was a difficult thing to define, her and Matty. In his own way, he had dismantled the barriers she had built around herself, her walls had come crumbling down for the very man she had built them because of in the first place.

And as she compared the two timelines—the emptiness of her engagement versus the fullness of her current interactions—it was impossible to ignore the truth. Matty had effortlessly become a pillar of support, an unexpected source of comfort, and a friend who genuinely cared. Of course there was the added support network of George who really couldn't have been a better brother to her during one of the hardest times in her life and Louis as well. Still she marvelled at the reality that he had done more for her in these few months than her ex-fiancé had managed in their years together.

The studio was bathed in a soft, warm light as Caroline pushed open the door later that evening. Matty and George had come home sometime in the last two hours but Caroline had been completely in her own world and deeply engrossed in a book so she hadn't heard them get back. She had decided to drop in to the studio where she could hear that either Matty or George or perhaps both were currently to personally thank Matty for the meal he had prepared earlier and for sending Louis to pick her up from work. She knew the band's new album was about to be released, and she couldn't help but be amazed by the fact that, despite the imminent excitement, they were apparently already immersed in creating new music.

As she walked further into the studio, her eyes fell on Matty, engrossed in front of a mixing board. His fingers danced across the buttons and sliders with a practiced grace, his head nodding to an unheard rhythm. He seemed lost in his world of sounds and melodies, a world that she was slowly learning to appreciate and understand.

"Hey," she called out, her voice breaking through his concentration.

Matty turned to her, a warm smile lighting up his features. "Hey, Caro. Didn't expect to see you here tonight."

Caroline shrugged, a playful glint in her eyes. "Thought I'd drop by and thank you properly for dinner and the ride."

Matty's smile grew, his expression sincere. "You're welcome. It's the least I could do."

Caroline's gaze wandered around the studio, taking in the equipment and instruments that had become so familiar to her. "You're already working on new music? Even before the album's out?"

Matty chuckled softly, a hint of mischief in his eyes. "Can't really turn off the creativity, you know? Besides, I've got all these ideas buzzing in my head."

Caroline nodded, understanding the sentiment. "Well, I don't want to interrupt your creative flow, but I just wanted to say thanks."

Matty walked over to her, his fingers brushing lightly against her arm. "You didn't interrupt anything, Caro. I'm always up for a break."

He led her towards the mixing board, encouraging her to take a seat. "Ever played around with one of these?"

Caroline shook her head, her curiosity piqued. "Not really. I'm more on the receiving end of music, not the creating part."

Matty grinned, his eyes sparkling with a mix of excitement and anticipation. "Oh come on, you're G's sister you're bound to be a natural. How about we change that tonight? I'll show you the basics."

As he began explaining the different controls and how they impacted the sound, Caroline found herself engrossed in his words. There was something entrancing about the way he spoke about music, his passion evident in every gesture and expression. She tentatively adjusted some of the sliders under his guidance, a sense of accomplishment filling her when she heard the subtle changes in the mix.

"See like I said, you're a natural," Matty praised, his gaze fixed on her.

Caroline shrugged modestly, a smile tugging at her lips. "I've got a great teacher."

Matty's eyes held a warmth that sent a flutter through her chest. "You know, Caro, you've got a real talent for this. Maybe you missed your calling as a producer. You could give George a run for his money."

Caroline chuckled, the compliment making her heart skip a beat. "I think I'll stick to radiation therapy, but this is definitely a fun change of pace."

Matty's playful smile turned more serious, his eyes searching hers. "What you don't want to give up saving lives to mess around with your favourite band? Shocking," his voice grew more teasing at the end.

The intensity in his gaze sent a rush of emotions through her, and for a moment, the air between them felt charged with unspoken words. "But enough of the technical stuff for now," he declared with a grin. "How about we take a break and I play you something?"

Caroline's face lit up, and she eagerly agreed. Matty reached for his guitar, his fingers moving with practiced ease across the strings. The melody that flowed from the instrument was hauntingly beautiful, each note woven into the fabric of the studio's atmosphere.

Caroline closed her eyes, allowing the music to wash over her. It was as if the melody held a story, an untold narrative that resonated deep within her. And then, with a delicate flourish, Matty transitioned into a different progression, the notes taking on a more uplifting quality.

As the last chord lingered, Caroline opened her eyes and looked at Matty with an appreciative smile. "That was amazing," she murmured. "You have a gift, Matty."

Matty's cheeks tinged with a faint blush, and he rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "Thanks, Caro. I'm glad you liked it."

But Caroline wasn't done yet. "Actually," she said, her eyes lighting up, "could you play that last part again? It just... it evokes something in me."

Matty complied, his fingers gracefully replaying the progression. Caroline listened closely, allowing the melody to fill her senses. And then, almost instinctively, her lips parted, and she began to hum along with the music.

Matty's eyes widened, captivated by the unexpected harmony that emerged. He watched Caroline with fascination as she hummed, her expression lost in the music. When she finally stopped, he was almost disappointed, as if a spell had been broken.

"That was beautiful," Matty said softly, his gaze locked onto hers.

Caroline blushed, feeling a mixture of vulnerability and excitement. "Thank you. The melody just... spoke to me."

Matty's fingers idly strummed the guitar strings as he considered her words. "You know," he began slowly, "there's something about the way you hummed along that triggered an idea."

Caroline tilted her head, intrigued. "An idea? What kind of idea?"

A thoughtful smile played on Matty's lips. "I've been struggling to find the right lyrics for this piece. But when you hummed along, a line popped into my head." He paused for a moment, as if testing the words. And then, he looked at her with a newfound excitement. "I want to get it right this time."

Caroline blinked, taken aback by the simplicity and depth of those words. They held a resonance that seemed to mirror their own journey, their growing connection that defied their initial expectations. It was as if Matty had captured the essence of their shared emotions in that single line.

She smiled softly, her heart swelling with a mix of emotions. "That's... perfect," she said, her voice filled with genuine admiration. "It encapsulates so much."

Matty's grin was infectious, a reflection of his own satisfaction with the discovery. "I think you just helped me find the missing piece, Caro."

For once it seemed that Matty was the one who was staring and Caroline was the one who kept meeting her gaze with a grin. There was something about the way in which Matty looked at her. It was tender, sweet and even loving? Matty made her feel like she deserved to be loved and to be worthy of such a man's attention was mind blowing to her. How he'd managed to creep his way into Caroline's heavily guarded heart she didn't fully understand but at the same time she treasured his position there.

“Why are you looking at me like that?" Caroline dared to ask.

Matty appeared confused for a moment before answering "like what?"

"Like I'm someone special."

"You are someone special though," Matty replied with an air of nonchalance "especially to me."

Caroline was in complete disbelief "I don't see why. I don't exactly have the best track record of having people believe that."

Matty paused briefly "that might be your opinion," he told her softly "but beauty is subjective and I think you're fucking stunning. You have this aura around you Caroline, one that puts everyone at ease but could simultaneously entrance everyone. You're the type of person people fall in love with even if you or your idiot ex don't realise that."

“You don’t mean that,” Caroline laughed “right?”

It seemed as though she wasn’t going to get an answer though because her brother happened to have the worst timing in the world as he walked in to join them. Normally he was quite clued into the energy of a room but thankfully he didn’t pick up on the way Caroline practically jumped out of her skin at his sudden arrival or the way they immediately went silent upon him opening the door and sitting in between them. But from the look Matty sent her when George was fixated on the mixing board in front of him, she knew one thing. This conversation wasn’t over.

#i hate writing dialogue im so so brave guys #you bring me home #the 1975 #the 1975 fanfic #matty healy #matty healy fic #matty healy x reader #matty healy x oc #george daniel #ross macdonald #adam hann #abby writes #matty healy fanfic

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sorryjustafangirl · 1 year

Text

make it to christmas

a/n: in the absolute middle of exams, winter, homesickness, and holiday stress, i was well overdue for some (resolved) angst me thinks. this is also based off one of my fav christmas (sad but upbeat) songs of the same name by canadian icon alessia cara. i really hope you enjoy!

word count: 2.7k+

pairing: quinn hughes x gn!reader

warnings: swearing, kinda rude parents, mentions of Christmas, sad quinn a little, i can't think of anything else?

disclaimer: this is a piece of fiction so don't come for me about real life stuff. also i didn't make the gif, @gabelandeskog did (and it looks amazing!)

Quinn gets distant with you when the team is on losing streaks. When the team was on losing streaks in the winter? It would get worse.

After three years with him, you’d noticed that this time of year makes your boyfriend get in his head a little. His frowns were a little deeper, the light rarely reached his eyes even around you. He always said it was the lack of snow Vancouver got that messed with his winter routine. When he told you that, you made him promise that he’d tell you when he was feeling particularly sad.

He was good at keeping that promise. During the winter months when the sun set too early and the sky was grey for days on end, he’d be quiet for a day or so before confiding in you under the comfort of the covers. If things got bad, the two of you would watch reruns of Friends until he fell asleep to your heartbeat and the claps of the theme song. You’d always savoured the winter because there were so many of those moments you’d get to spend together.

But this year, it felt different.

The whispers in the dark never came and he never gave the pleading eyes to watch a show. He’d open his phone again and again, the blue light reflecting onto his face but a smile never came. You’d try to pry a little — he never did respond well to it — but you knew this wasn’t your Quinn, winter or not.

The breaking point came when he stopped saying ‘I love you’. He never failed to say it or even send a text with it before one of his games, and he especially never forgot on road trips. But now? You couldn’t remember the last time you were able to slip into bed beside him, and say a ‘love you’ without the ache in your chest of knowing you won’t get anything more than silence in response.

“Do you still want to come home with me for Christmas Eve?” you asked one night, when you saw the date in your calendar.

“If you want me to, yeah sure,” he mumbled, barely looking up from his phone. You couldn’t even fake a smile at his response, just settled into bed. He may have been beside you but he might as well be a thousand miles away.

On Christmas Eve, the two of you had dressed silently. It wasn’t like a no words communication, it was no communication, a stark contrast to other occasions when music had been playing and Quinn had been asking your opinion on which tie matched your clothes the best. Now, you waited by the door, the car keys in your hand until he came out of your bedroom, took them, and silently moved out the door. You locked the door on your own, your boyfriend twenty steps ahead of you. You sighed.

“Just make it to Christmas,” you whispered to yourself.

The car ride was silent and you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“I got Milo and Coolie some cute toys I thought they’d like. They’re wrapped under the tree for when you see Brock next,” you offered. He just grunted in response and you sighed a little.

“Did Petey say what he was doing for the holiday break?” You asked, turning slightly to see his face better but the frown never left his face.

“No.”

“Oh, Holly sent us their family Christmas card, they all look so nice. Did you see them?”

“No.”

You took a pause. “Did you want to see?”

“No.”

You pursed your lips, sighed a little, and sunk further into the seat, looking out the window so he didn’t see how his behaviour was affecting you.

When he pulled into your parents driveway, you could see all the bright yellow lights and your family already sitting in the living room with smiles on their faces. Usually, a sight like this would make you excited to bolt out of the car and be in the warm familiar house. This time, it only filled you with dread, having to pretend your relationship was okay, and you sighed for the last time.

“That’s the third time you’ve sighed like that,” He said, unbuckling his seatbelt. Oh so now he was attentive? Sure. “What’s up?”

“It’s nothing, let’s go.”

“It’s not nothing, what’s the matter?”

“Q, can we not do this right now? My family is waiting on us and I don’t want either of us to be grumpy. Let’s just try to make it to Christmas please,” you grumbled. He just grunted and got out of the car, his door slamming behind him. You took a deep breath before exiting the car yourself. At least he’d been bothered to wait for you before walking up to your parents’ house.

But when your dad opened the door, it was like a switch was flipped. Your boyfriend smiled, shook your dad’s hand, and passed the gift (that you were a little confused on where it came from since you hadn’t bought it — and you did the holiday shopping for the both of you) to your mom.

He sat on the couch with his arm draped around your shoulders. He brought you a drink in your favourite mug without asking. He held your hand and caressed the back of your hand when your dad brought up a work project that frustrated you. There would be times when you were talking to your sister and his arm would rest on your thigh and you’d forget about everything that happened before and just relish in his love. But as soon as it moved, the cold seeped in and you were reminded that this was not the regular anymore – this was a one-off and only a matter of time before it wasn’t there at all.

“Y/n, honey, could you help me in the kitchen really quick?” You mum asked.

“Yeah, sure. Be right back, Q.” You started to get up from your place on the couch but Quinn leaned over, quickly giving you a peck on the cheek.

“Hurry back babe.” He winked, throwing you a little off-guard. This was like the Quinn you knew, but where has he been the past four months? You walked into the kitchen, ready to help your mom but she was ready with questions.

“Is everything okay sweetheart?” Fuck fuck fuck. You tried to give her your best confused face instead of the panic in your mind that she saw right through your facade.

“Yeah, why do you say that?”

“You just look a little down,” she said, rubbing your arm lightly. “Even with that boy so nice to you, you just don’t look super happy. And it’s Christmas! Is everything going okay with him? He’s not too busy with work, is he?”

“No, Mom, he’s fine,” you lied. “We’re fine, thank you for checking.”

“Well, if you say so sweetheart. There’s no shame in breaking it off with this hockey boy so you can have something where you’re happier.”

You swallowed a lump in your throat. “I’m going to be right back.”

“Don’t go anywhere! I’m making hot chocolate with marshmallows before the board game,” she called after you, seemingly aware that she sent you into a tailspin.

“I’ll just be a minute, you can get started without me.” You were already halfway down the hallway by the time you said it, your focus on nothing but getting out of the room.

You walked out the back deck, taking in the night sky and silence. You took deep breaths. It just didn’t make sense. How could he just think that nothing is wrong in front of your family? Act so carefree so easily? You were struggling to even smile at his gestures, wondering what got into him to act like his old self and your mom noticed. She noticed and basically told you to break up with him, so nonchalantly, like she’d never taken your relationship seriously.

“Hey. Here.” His voice interrupts your racing mind and you turn around to face him. In his hands is the hoodie he keeps in the car in case you get cold, outstretched to you. You suddenly are aware of the goosebumps all over your arms and how you could see your breath. You take it and pull it over your head as Quinn walks closer to be beside you.

“What’s wrong?”

You scoff. “What's wrong?”

“Yeah, you never miss out on a hot chocolate, especially not with the marshmallows. What’s wrong?” He didn’t seem to have caught onto the slight edge in your voice, and you dropped the attitude.

“If I’m honest, it’s us,” you huffed.

“Us?” You could see the furrow in his eyebrows even if you weren’t looking at him. “We’re fine, aren’t we?”

“For the past two hours when we’ve been in front of my family, sure. But even my mom noticed I’m not really happy. In two hours, my mom saw what you couldn’t in months! Q, it’s been weeks since we’ve been really fine. Weeks. We are not fine! There’s all this distance between us, even when you’re sleeping right beside me! When was the last time we went out on a date? When’s the last time you even had time for a date? Time for me? We haven’t talked about anything other than hockey and my job for what feels like months!“

He goes to open his mouth but you cut him off. “And I know, I know, it’s winter, this is how you get. But it’s not. Quinn, I’ve been around enough to know what it’s like in the winter but this is something else. You give me one word answers, you’re shutting me out. I can’t even remember the last time you said you loved me. It’s fucking different and I’m so so close to saying fuck it and throwing the towel in!”

“Then why didn't you? Why did you invite me here?”

“Because it’s Christmas! Because I’m an idiot! Because I’m not ready to give up on you! Because I keep thinking that this is just a bump in the road and one day, we’ll feel like us again, just like we did in there! Because if you didn’t come, my dad would give me such a look of pity at the empty chair beside me and my mom would tell my sister “I told you so” when she has evidence you’re too busy for me. And on Christmas? I…I didn’t think I’d be able to handle it. Break up with me on Boxing Day, but can we please just make it through Christmas?”

“Wait, break up? Who said anything about a break up?”

“Isn’t that what you’ve been wanting to do? Why else have you been so distant these past few months, so engrossed in your phone?” You said, crossing your arms across yourself and looking down at your feet.

“I’ve been trying to propose.”

You stared at him blankly. “To me?”

“No, to Brock. Yes, of course to you.”

Your mouth hung open in shock. “You’re joking.”

“I wouldn’t joke about this.”

“I’m not following,” you said, genuinely confused. Where was this coming from?

“This isn’t how I wanted to tell you all this, but you remember that night out on the lake in July? When we went out and watched the sunset and you told me you could do this for the rest of your life?” You nodded.

“That’s when I knew I wanted to marry you. So I started looking at rings, asking some of the married guys for advice, that sort of stuff. But when I went to my mom to ask for her help picking out a ring, she…she just seemed surprised that I didn’t know what you wanted. I went through your jewelry box and everything but I still couldn’t figure it out. So I started to think that maybe I didn’t know you as well as I needed to before we got married.” He looked down at his feet as he started shuffling them side to side.

“And then when I asked your parents about marriage, your dad didn’t look very impressed with me. Like they said fine, but they didn’t seem over the moon that I was going to be the one asking. That’s why I acted so different in there. I…I didn’t want your parents to think they made a mistake by telling me yes. I guess that all of that just made me feel really insecure about me and this lifestyle that threatens to move us across the country in one second! I was insecure in our relationship, convincing myself that you and your family wanted no part in being part of the league, part of the drama, the chaos. Believe me, you’re the last person I ever want to hurt and I was just too much in my own head to see how it was hurting you, and baby, please, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry. I-“ he cut himself off. “I can’t believe I let myself get so caught that you don’t remember I love you. Because I do. I love you a lot. A whole fucking lot, I can’t even explain it. I want to marry you, please, I don’t want to break up.” He made eye contact with you then, his brown orbs void of anything but sorrow.

You felt your own eyes welling up but you had to get it all off your chest before consoling him. “Why didn’t you just talk to me about this?”

He shrugged. “I didn’t want you to tell me our parents were right. I thought if I kept it to myself, you wouldn’t notice how I might not be enough for you.”

The tears that had welled in your own eyes started to fall and there were no words coming to mind that could do your feelings justice. Instead, you wrapped your arms around his neck fiercely. His arms wrapped around your waist with as much ferocity and one of your hands held the back of his head.

“Not enough for me? You are everything,” you whispered into his ear.

“Don’t quote The Office to me.” His voice was muffled by your shoulder but you could hear the slight smile in it.

“Q, I don’t care what my parents said. I don’t care that you don’t know what ring I would want – I don’t even know what kind of ring I’d want! I don’t care about any of that; I care about you. I love you. And you are enough. You are all that matters to me.”

He pulled away from you, slowly, to see your face but his body stayed as close to you as possible.

“I don’t know what I did to deserve someone as good as you.” Your face softened. One of your hands moved to cup his cheek and he leaned into your touch.

“It doesn’t matter. You have me. But the next time you feel like this you have to talk to me, okay? I was absolutely miserable when you wouldn’t communicate with me and I thought you didn’t…”

“Believe me, I’m never again going to let you believe, even for a second, that I don’t love you with every fiber in my body. I’ll talk with you next time,” he promised, pressing a long kiss to your temple and pulling him towards you again. “Now, you’re freezing and look desperately in need of a hot chocolate, so let’s get you inside.”

As the two of you walked back towards your parents place, hand in hand, you turned to look at him.

“Oh, and by the way, my answer is yes,” you said.

“Answer to what?”

“When you ask me to marry you. My answer is yes and it will always be yes.” His face softened and he slowly turned you to face him. His fingers, although cold, cupped your face and he brought you in for a slow kiss, dragging it out for as long as he could.

“I love you,” He said breathlessly, a sliver of light reaching his eyes again. “I love you so much.”

You gave him another quick peck, before leaning into his chest for a hug.

“I love you too, Q.”

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes fic #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl x reader #vancouver canucks imagine #hockey fic #hockey imagine #abby writes #i just realized there's blood in that gif but there is no blood in the fic i promise #this is also not proofread because i have no brain power right now

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lucidfairies · 5 months

Text

money [a.a]

pairing: ceo!abby x secretary!reader

synopsis: when you finally land the job of your dreams, you had no idea what your boss would be like. and damn, no idea you conjured could've done her justice.

warnings: top!abby, bottom!reader, age gap (reader is in her 20s, abby is in her early 40s), cunnilingus (r/a receiving), strap (r!receiving), praise + degradation, mommy kink, dirty talk, manhandling, pet names (sweetheart, sweet girl, angel, baby, whore, slut)

word count: 3.3k

it wasn't everyday that you landed a job with one of the most well known law firms in washington. for now you were just a secretary, someone to sit outside of an office and take calls, but your hope was to work your way up to one of their lawyers.

you had little prior experience with being a secretary, but it was just enough to get you this gig. the building was large, and the office you were to assist was on one of the highest floors, naturally where the head of the firm was.

you knew her, abby anderson. incredibly talented lawyer who even won over a supreme court case. though you hadn't met her in person, you were exhilarated to meet her. she was who you dreamed to be, especially by her age.

it wasn't until your third day, when abby was finally in the office, when you got a glimpse of what working here would actually look like. abby showed up in a well pressed black suit, armani logo drilling into your eyes like a laser, making you feel all that underdressed.

"do I know you?" she asked when you knocked gently on her office door and went in. she truly didn't mean to be rude - her son had been sick for three days and she was feeling it now - but you didn't know that. you automatically assumed she was an asshole, and that threw you off.

you cleared your throat, meeting her eyes and immediately shifting them again. she was intimidating, almost scary. "I'm y/n. I'm your new assistant." she looked you up and down, gaze still burning your skin, and the corner of her mouth turned up to a smirk.

"great. I take my coffee black, nothing in it. there will be a card on your desk that you can charge it to every morning. get yourself something. I expect you to leave before I do, as I stay late. by any chance, do you babysit?" your eyes found hers as you finally looked up.

"I mean, I can. I used to when-" she cut you off, uninterested in anything except the yes. you noted that for later.

"I might need you to pick up my son from school every couple weeks. not often, and certainly not until I've run a background check on you." she wasn't hardly looking at you now, eyes flipping between her papers and computer. "did I miss anything?"

"no ma'am," you said, standing up and instinctively wiping off your skirt, though there was nothing there. suddenly you were back at your desk, waiting for calls and bookings to come in while trying to make sense of that interaction.

the next day you arrived late, but in your defense, the line at the coffee place was long and traffic was even longer, and now you weren't even sure that the coffee was hot. abby was there when you gently knocked on her door, allowing your entry with a low 'come in.

"I'm so sorry I'm late, there was really bad traffic and the line-"

"it's okay, sweet girl." your stomach flipped. yesterday, when your eyes knew nothing but the floor, you hadn't exactly taken in her appearance, but today. today.

today she was in a black turtleneck, sleeves right around the muscle in her arms that just made her look so, so good. her black slacks were tight at her hips with a belt, and they were hugging her legs so tight that you were sure the seam would rip.

her hair was pulled into a nice bun and she wore no makeup, not that she ever needed to. she had freckles, beautiful eyes. rings. she had rings, that she could put inside of you any day.

"I'll be on time tomorrow, miss." your gaze dropped again as you turned to leave her office. this was surely going to be nothing but torture for the following months.

two weeks later was the first time she asked you to stay late. you originally had plans, but the way your name dripped off of her tongue like honey made you immediately cancel them. she had asked you politely to pick up her son, and you even acquired her number from the ordeal.

dealing with kids was not your specialty, but abby's son was a delight. he talked all about his mom, some about his dad and it made you wonder if abby was single or not. she never wore a ring to your knowledge, not even on a necklace, and from your speculation she almost looked like a lesbian. maybe you were just dreaming about the end.

if you had taken your apartment and multiplied it by ten, it still wouldn't be half the size of abby's house. she truly did have money, if the armani suits and porsche didn't say that already.

an hour into your babysitting, which almost just felt like hanging out with a kid in a mansion, abby got home. she walked in, greeting you with the first real smile you had ever seen on her face. your brain malfunctioned when you gently placed her hand on your arm and pressed an innocent kiss onto your cheek.

you were blushing profusely, pupils blown, almost dizzy, all she did was kiss your cheek, a very normal way of greeting someone and you were fucked. abby didn't fail to see you run your fingers over the spot and look at them before quickly turning back towards the two of them.

abby lived for it. lived for the you drooled over everything she did, lived for the way that she was sure her fingers would look so, so good in your mouth... and she tried not to think about it. how could she, when her son was standing right next to her, trying to tell her about his day, and you. you just looked so innocent.

you were engulfed in her smell, the perfect balance of pine and amber and erotica. she smelled like five hundred dollar cologne right off the shelf of valentino. you wanted to smell like that, wanted to smell like that, wanted to wear her clothes and have everyone think that you were together.

"thanks for coming, sweetheart. I'll see you on monday." you looked at her with your brows knit, knowing you had work the following day, friday. "take the day off. you did something for me, and I'm repaying you. use my card and get something."

the amount of money she had to just throw around was so attractive to you. she was an independent woman who brought in millions every year and was letting some secretary she had known for three weeks let buy anything on a day off.

monday had arrived, and you had purchased nothing with abby's card, naturally. you weren't one to spend someone's money just because they had a lot of it, or because they told you to. she would've had to buy it for you to accept it, at that.

it was nearing eleven when abby called you into her office by your first name, instead of one of the many nicknames she always seems to use. "sit." she demanded as you stepped in, and you did so.

"is something wrong, ms. anderson?" she wasn't mad, but she was irritated. she told you to do something, told you to put yourself first and you didn't.

"I told you to treat yourself on friday," her gaze left her laptop and met your eyes. "why didn't you?" you blanked for a moment.

"I just.. I didn't feel right spending money that wasn't mine." she gave you a disapproving look, before getting up and coming around her desk to stand in front of you. in a matter of moments, one of her large hands was grabbing your jaw and forcing your head up to look at her.

she bent down slightly, lips grazing over yours, and you were sure she could feel how much your face heated up. "next time I tell you to do something, you're going to do it. understand, sweet girl?"

"I don't-" your pupils were blown and you were so desperate for her to press her lips just a bit closer, fill the gap and just let you have it.

"say 'yes abby'."

"y-yes abby." she let go of your face and went back to her desk, pretending to pay you little attention, but she was acutely aware of the way you pushed your thighs together and squirmed.

"you're dismissed. I expect to see a charge by the morning." you got up and hurried out, going straight to the bathroom. your face was burning up, and you could vaguely see an imprint from her hand.

you were meaninglessly circling the mall, trying to decide what to spend this newfound money on. obviously you wouldn't get something big and glamorous, no matter how much she seemingly wanted you to.

every time you walked, you seemed to pass victoria's secret. It seemed like it was calling you to buy something, and after that interaction with abby earlier, you decided that maybe you should treat yourself and went in.

you looked around for a while before finding a cute blue set, with embroidered, lacy flowers. it was nothing special, just transparent and high waisted, but it was speaking to you. suddenly you knew what you were wearing to work the next day.

- - -

you felt completely scandalous wearing a short little skirt over the lingerie in the morning, with a button down, where the first few buttons were unbuttoned. it was different from your usual dress pants and blouse, but it definitely did what you needed it to do.

work was as usual for the majority of the morning, and you were suddenly doubting why you wore what you did. there was no point, you were seriously delusional and seriously needed help. what kind of freak where's lingerie and completely inappropriate work clothes to work after one minor interaction with their boss?

that was until you got a simple email from ms. anderson herself, reading nothing but;

my office. now, please.

you cleared your throat, brushed out your hair slightly and adjusted your shirt before nonchalantly entering her office. you sat, observing the way she remained quiet for a moment before clearing her desk and turning her attention towards you.

“did you think I wouldn't realize?” she asked, cooly, with her eyebrows raised slightly. “I mean, props to you, you did as you were told. but I checked the card. I'm not the only one who can see the transactions on that card either, sweetheart.”

you were immediately red. who else could see them? “I didn't r-really think-”

“no, you didn't. I bet the men in my finances would love to see you dancing around in whatever you bought, wouldn't they, baby?” she was standing before you could think, hands resting on the handles of your chair. “why don't you show me, huh? I know you're wearing it.”

“I'm not- we can't do that here.” you looked around, though you knew no one would ever bother her and her office had no cameras. “we're at work, abigail.” there was a fast switch in her eyes, the way they went from cocky to wide, almost needy.

“fuck,” her head dropped into the crook of your neck before she ran her nose along your jaw. “say it again. please, baby.” her tone, the gentle pleading made any rational thoughts disappear from your mind. your hand wrapped around the collar of her button down and pulled her in gently.

“abigail,” you whispered, “I want this,” with that, her hands were everywhere, all at once. she was pulling you up, wrapping her large hands around your hips as she pulled you in for a harsh kiss. she was forcing you onto her desk, keeping her lips to yours as your bodies molded to each other.

she left your lips, finding a perfect spot on your neck and sucking. you gasped when you felt her hand undoing the buttons of your shirt and pulling it out of your skirt. you were grabbing her by her waist trying to pull her closer as she continued to mark up your neck and grab your tits.

when she finally pulled away from your neck, her eyes became wide looking at your lingerie clad tits. you slid your shirt the rest of the way off and tossed it, looking up at her as you began to unbutton hers. she didn't let you get very far before she was gently pushing you back until your back was against the cool wood of the desk.

she unclipped your bra and pulled it off, tongue immediately meeting your nipple. she bit it and you yelped, grabbing her shoulders. her large hand was messing with your other, tugging gently and kneading. "I love your tits so fucking much, baby.” she mumbled into your skin while she kissed down your stomach.

she left more hickies on your ribs, but you desperately needed her in one place. she was pulling your skirt down in seconds, pressing her tongue against you like it was nothing and watching you arch and moan. she was eating you out through your underwear for a minute, before you grabbed her hair and pulled her head up.

"take them off." she smirked, and her head tilted slightly to the side.

"who said you're in charge, sweet angel?" the nickname was new, but you fucking loved that she always called you sweet. you were something sweet to her, and that made your brain lag every time.

"abby please," you bucked into her, chasing friction. that's when you felt it; the large bulge in her slacks that you hadn't noticed earlier.

"feel that, baby? that's all for you." she pulled down your underwear slowly, tossing it in the pile of clothes. she spread your lips, watching slick connect and drip down your thighs. your face burned and you covered it, embarrassed. "uncover your face or I'll stop." you did as told.

she pulled a ponytail off her wrist and pulled her hair into a bun before pressing her tongue into your clit and licking a fat stripe. your head hit the desk with a thud, reveling at the feeling. she worked your clit, sucking it into her mouth and painting patterns with her tongue while she pressed a finger into entrance.

she used her free hand to hold you down by your stomach, since your squirming was messing her up. you whined when she added a second finger, not used to her thick fingers. "if you can't take my fingers, how am I supposed to fuck you with my strap?" you moaned at her words, loving the dirtiness of it.

she returned to your clit and you got loud when she curled her fingers up into the best spot, whimpering and groaning. she remembered the time when you pressed your fingers to your cheek in her house, and brought her unused hand to your mouth, tapping your chin lightly. "open your mouth and suck," she instructed, noticing your confused look.

you took two of her fingers in your mouth and sucked them, which shut you up. your stomach coiled, a warm feeling rushing between your legs before you could even mumble a word. it felt like you just kept coming, until she finally pulled away from your cunt.

"are you gonna give me another one, angel?" she was unclipped her belt while you caught your breath. "wanna fuck you all day." she pulled her pants and boxers down just barely enough to get her strap out. "flip over, ass up." you turned over, fucked out muscles aching.

she ran the tip of her strap between your folds, letting your wetness lube it up, then lined up with your hole. she pushed just the tip in, groaning at the way you took it so well and swallowed her in. "what if I just fucked you like this, huh?" you whined.

"please.. need more," you pushed your hips back slightly, trying to push her in further. she pulled out, simply pushing the tip back in.

"desperate fucking whore," she thrust in on the last word, bottoming out immediately. you whimpered, the strap stretching you far more than her fingers. "aw, baby, does that hurt?" she pulled out far and fucked into you again.

she started fucking you, deep and hard, until you were moaning and grabbing onto the desk, trying to stabilize yourself. one of her hands left your hips and grabbed your hair, wrapping it around her fist and tugging. "fuck.. abby- abs.. mommy,”

your eyes widened at the name, which came out unintentionally. she stopped momentarily before groaning and picking her pace back up rapidly. "call me that again." the tip of her strap kissed your cervix and bumped against your g-spot every time. her arm wrapped around your waist, flicking your clit.

"mommy.. m'gonna cum." you slurred, cock drunk and fucked out. she kept her pace, hardly changing anything except for the fact that she was louder now, finding the perfect angle to get the harness to hit her clit.

"just wait a second, my love,” you held it for as long as you could, but it became too much, and she was hitting just right. your mind went absolutely blank as your vision went white, a wave crashing over you as you came.

you could hear abby moaning, but you were still going, and unable to think of anything. “fuck baby, you make such a mess.” you relaxed your tense body and look over your shoulder at abby's soaked harness, pants, and desk.

“m’sorry.” she slowly pulled her strap out and unclipped it front her hips, letting you lay for another minute before she grabbed your hips and helped you flip over and sit up. “wanna make you cum, mommy.” you looked at her with doe eyes, watching her eyes darken.

“I already came, sweetheart. don't worry about me.” you brought your hand down to cup her cunt and she took in a sharp breath. you ground your palm against her clit and she groaned, shifting her stance from foot to foot.

you slid off the desk with wobbly legs and kneeled in front of her, pupils blown. “please mommy,” you ran your nails over her abs and under her boxer strap lightly, making her muscles tense.

“such a slut, aren't you? want mommy to fuck your face?” you nodded, pulling her boxers down to her ankles. her blonde bush matched her hair, and you noticed her happy trail that you hadn't earlier. “stick out your tongue, baby, be a good girl.”

you stuck your tongue out flat, not even getting a chance to lick before she was pressing her cunt to your mouth. she fucked herself on your face, gripping your hair tight and grinding fast. you gently pushed her against the desk, lifting one of her legs to your shoulder and leaving the other one down.

she must have loved the new angle, because she was moaning and grunting more than you had ever heard her. her clit was twitching and puffy, wet from your spit and her slick. she let out an involuntary whimper, and it was like music to your ears. “gonna c-cum on your f-fucking face, angel.”

her legs shook as she came, ans you spent the following moments licking all of it up. you pulled away and stood up, still shaky. she pulled her boxers and slacks up, moving towards the pile of clothes and handing you what was yours. “do you wanna get dinner tonight?” she stopped what she was doing to button up your shirt and zip your skirt.

“yeah, that's great.” she smiled, kissing you softly.

“you can go home if you want to clean up. I can take my own calls for a few minutes.” it was your turn to smile, grateful to get out of your uncomfortable, wet clothes.

“I'll see you tonight?” you asked, looking over your shoulder once you got to the door.

“pick you up at seven.”

a/n: part two? 🤭

tag list: @shewantstoknow @baumbii @zombholic

#abby anderson #tlou #tlou2 #abby smut #abby anderson smut #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader #tlou modern au #lawyer #ceo #ceo au #maya writes

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