#actually. no pretend it's both. you get two cookies. as a treat.
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EASTER WITH THE MILLERS 🐰 - HEADCANONS
No outbreak!Joel Miller x f!wife!reader
A/N: Happy Easter everybody!
• The Miller household wasn't that big when it came to Easter celebration, perhaps Joel could attend church but that was a long shot because he would usually be too tired and straight up lazy to go
• but other than that, he would just get Sarah some treats - and also himself, eating it late at night or just keeping in his candy stash and get some takeout and that was it
• even if they didn't actually have the habit of celebrating it per se, he would love whenever she came back from school Friday before Easter with paper made bunny ears and face painting; it melted his heart to no end and he would always take a picture of her, these were one of his favorites and after Sarah went to college, staring at them makes him tear up but he would never admit it, so you just have to pretend you didn't see it
• and once Sarah wasn't little anymore and went off to college, he stopped buying chocolate and stuff like that, and Easter became just a regular Sunday. Maybe he'd hang out with Tommy if he wasn't spending it with some chick, otherwise he would mow the lawn or something
• that was it until you came into his life, instead of lying on the couch eating takeout or leftovers, his holidays actually acquired meaning and joy because of you and your will to make Joel remember he's got a home, not just a house
• before the wedding, you'd very often spend it at your parents' or at some relative's place, sharing a big lunch and exchanging chocolate, he enjoyed it a lot, but he also missed something smaller and cozier so after you both officially got married, you two decided to spend Easter at home, even if it wasn't going to be like it used to be when Joel was single
• Instead, you'd start by decorating the house. You weren't a decoration freak but it wouldn't hurt to have perhaps a tablecloth, a centerpiece, or dishtowel Easter themed, also some decorative Easter bunny holding a basket with eggs in the front porch and stuff like that
• Joel found amusing to see it all, he actually loved to see how excited you got and how it full of love his house became; you were a real blessing for him
• for the menu, he would prepare his famous barbecue and you would also make your delicious casserole, Joel loves your casserole and he could eat it all by himself, so he would be really looking forward to it
• for dessert you'd make him anything he wants: chocolate cake, chocolate pie, chocolate pudding, chocolate cookies or whatever he chooses, the important thing is to him happy
• if the weather is good enough, you can set the table in the garden, but if lunch is inside, then it's also good, as long as you are spending it with your husband
• he chuckles when he sees you wearing the same bunny ears you had to wear at work during the week, it makes you look cute and also sexy but he always pretends to be annoyed when you place the bunny ears on him and even more so when you snap pictures of it
• and yes, he makes you wear the same bunny ears when you go to bed and you ride his cock at night, thankful to have spent another special day by your side, he couldn't have chosen a better wife than you ❤️
____
#pedro pascal#pedro pascal x reader#pedro pascal x you#pedro pascal x y/n#pedro pascal fanfic#pedro pascal fanfiction#pedro pascal headcanon#pedro pascal headcanons#joel miller#joel miller x reader#joel miller x you#joel miller x y/n#joel miller fanfiction#joel miller fanfic#joel miller headcanon#joel miller headcanons
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blindsided | lance stroll
pairing: lance stroll x ricciardo!reader
getting your hopes up is a dangerous thing, a lesson lance has to learn the hard way. your connection was real, but what was it based on?
word count: 6.7k
tags/warnings: some pining, some unrequited feelings, does it have a happy ending? maybe, maybe not
thank you cay @oconso for that line you know the line
You were an enigma to Lance.
You were someone that he felt he should have known, but the two of you had never actually taken a minute out of your days to properly introduce yourself, nor did you ever find yourself in a scenario where you could have had a conversation.
As the younger sister of Australia’s golden boy, Daniel Ricciardo, you were in school and then uni while he was in his prime racing days. Your summers were spent with friends, every so often you’d go to a race or two, but your priority was not being one of those family members who attended as many races as you could, Daniel understood that.
By the time you graduated last year, Daniel had told you his future with McLaren looked unstable and he didn’t want you to attend his races, saying he’d much rather wait until he was back with a 'good team'.
So you never had the opportunity to meet a lot of the drivers on the grid, Lance included.
But there was still this strange connection to him.
His sister was dating Scotty, Scotty was Daniel’s best friend, you as well had spent many days and nights at Scotty's family home because he also treated you like a younger sister.
And it was through social media and your name being brought up in passing here and there that Lance felt as though he knew you. He didn’t. He didn’t even know your middle name, didn’t know what you had studied, didn’t know what you were doing currently.
But he knew you had a good circle of friends, you posted pictures with them often. He knew you drank too much coffee for it to be healthy and it was probably an addiction at this point. He knew you were heavily involved in Daniel’s Enchante clothing line, usually being one of the models when a new collection dropped.
He knew you at face value, but god did he want to know more.
When Lance stopped by Chloe’s place with a box of empty envelopes she had asked him to pick up, Lance walked in on her and Scotty going over their guest list for a final time. Lance paid them no attention, he dropped the box of envelopes down on the table and sauntered towards the kitchen as the plate of freshly baked cookies looked mouth watering.
His ears perked up when he heard your name, however.
“...did Danny say that Y/N would be able to make it?” Chloe asked, directing the question to Scotty. “We gave her the dates a while ago, but she never got back to me. Also isn’t she terrified of planes?”
“She is, but she’ll take a pill or two and it’ll knock her out for the flight,” Scotty nodded and Chloe rolled her eyes at his joke.
Play it cool, Lance told himself as he leaned against the kitchen island. “Y/N? As in Daniel’s sister?”
Chloe didn’t even glance up, “Yeah, I’ve only met her once but she’s-”
“She’s like a sister to me. If she missed the wedding I'd disown her,” Scotty joked. He rested his arm over the back of the chair and looked at Lance. “Have you met her?”
Lance pretended to think about it, even pinched his eyebrows together, but he knew damn well the two of you had never met, “I don’t think so.”
“She’s sweet,” Scotty told him, his lips curling into a smirk that Chloe couldn’t see. Always a menace. “You two would get along.”
Lance snorted, “What makes you say that?”
“Because you’re both single.”
Chloe grabbed a sheet of paper and crumpled it up, tossing it into the chest of her soon-to-be husband, muttering something about staying out of other people's love lives. Scotty only sent Lance a wink before turning around again to give his attention back to the guest list.
Lance was single, Scotty wasn’t wrong about that. After just getting out of a relationship, he was, admittedly, lonely.
And it wasn’t that he purposely stayed single those months leading up to the wedding, but no one caught his interest. Or, if someone did, Lance would forget about them the moment you popped up on his Instagram feed.
Your smile was similar to Daniel’s in a sense that it was wide and toothy, easily becoming the most prominent feature on your face as your eyes squinted, but aside from that and the dark features, the similarities stopped.
As a Ricciardo, one might expect you to have the same bubbly and outgoing energy but from what Lance could see in the photos and videos you were tagged in, or ones you had posted yourself, you seemed to stick to the same circle of friends. You visited the same bars and restaurants because it was what you knew and within your comfort zone. You never went out of your way to make an impression on someone, happily letting your brother take on the more talkative role.
Lance wanted to know if your laughter was as loud and more amusing than the joke itself or if that was only a trait reserved for Daniel.
He was tired of trying to piece together who you were through pictures on a phone screen and still, the worst part about this was it felt as though he did know you. Lance had to keep reminding himself that he didn’t, that you never met, that the image he constructed of you in his head might be wrong.
He wouldn't know until Venice.
And you, well you thought you knew who Lance was too.
Danny had mentioned him a handful of times. You followed Lance on social media, even if he did have a tendency to be more secluded than other drivers, he still was pretty active when it came to liking posts, especially your posts.
You didn’t google him, per say, but you were curious. Who was this Canadian driver? Aside from being the son of the team owner, there wasn’t much to learn about Lance besides his driver stats. Again, very private.
But he was cute. He gave off the tall, dark and mysterious sort of vibe, which was never really your type but the more you saw Lance’s photo appear online, the easier it was to forget about those blonde surfer guys that you would usually spend your time with.
Lance seemed sweet, from what you could gather. And similarly, you felt as though you knew him too. It seemed odd that the two of you had never met and all, with your unofficial older brother marrying his sister. It was like you should have the same circle of friends or at least be able to call each other acquaintances but you couldn’t.
Daniel walked into his parents house in Perth, hitting a few envelopes against the palm of his hand and then the wall, basically demanding attention from his family until he flicked one of them towards you.
It narrowly avoided your face and you flipped him off in response, earring a scolding from your mother, but it was easy to move past the sibling banter when you all opened the envelopes to see the wedding invitations from Chloe and Scotty.
“Venice,” you breathed out. “Jesus Christ, that'll be a pricey adventure.”
Danny didn’t have to say anything. His elbow nudging against your side was enough for you to know that he would help pay for the expenses. He was always looking out for you, for his family. You wished you could do the same, but at the moment you were just enjoying your first full year of being done with university.
You grabbed a pen and checked off that you would be in attendance and then you hovered it over the box asking about a plus one.
“You’re not seeing anyone,” Daniel scoffed and then glanced over his shoulder to get his parents opinion on this. “Right? She’s not seeing anyone?”
“No one right now,” you corrected, letting the pen and invite drop to the glass coffee table. You could fill it out later. “Who knows? That might change.”
“Don’t invite someone to a wedding if you’ve been dating them for less than six months, that’s a general rule.”
“Says who?”
“Says everyone,” Your mother interjected.
You just huffed out a breath of annoyance, “Well it’s a good thing the wedding is nine months away. I have time.”
Daniel stood up, but not before pushing you further into the corner of the couch, muttering a joke about how no one would want to date you anyway. Of course that prompted you to throw a pillow at him and your parents were left standing in the kitchen, wondering why they couldn’t just have one nice afternoon.
Daniel, of course, wanted nothing more than for you to be happy, despite the constant teasing and lack of faith that you’d ever actually find someone. He knew you had high standards, he knew you didn’t trust easily and he knew you would never follow someone because you were in love or whatever.
That’s why your last relationship ended. He wanted to move to Melbourne after graduation from university and even that was too far for you. Your whole life was in Perth, your home was on the western coast of Australia, you didn’t want to go anywhere else.
One time, Daniel tried setting you up with one of his athlete friends, someone else who was associated with Red Bull, but he was from Portugal, he travelled for a living and he resided in Los Angeles during his off season. You went on one date and you didn’t need to spend any more time with him to know you could never be in that sort of relationship.
Of course, this wasn’t something you shared publicly. Unless someone took the time to get to know you, your dating preferences would remain unknown.
You were private in that sense too. If you did talk to someone, if you attempted to broaden your circle and add a little romance in your life, you kept it to yourself. You were always paranoid about jinxing whatever fling you had so your friends were often left out of the loop.
Your parents were a similar story. You didn’t live at home, you had your own flat, but you wouldn’t dare bring someone by for dinner or to meet them in fear that they would get their hopes up. It was one thing to date someone, it was an entirely other thing when parents got involved.
The one person you could trust, surprisingly, was Daniel. You weren’t ever seeking out relationship advice, but you knew his relationship with Heidi started out quite secretive for the first few years, only recently they decided to go public. So he knew a thing or two about wanting to keep a private life private.
So Daniel was the one you approached only a month before the wedding, eight months after you had rsvp’d to the event and checked the box reading no plus one. You waited until he was visiting home and you weren’t under the watchful eyes of your parents but rather the comfort of your own flat.
“I have a favour to ask,” you started off, quite hesitant as you weren’t really one to ask your brother for anything.
And Daniel listened to your request, assuring you that, if you were serious, he could probably pull some strings.
Key word being probably. Daniel couldn’t promise anything and by the time you got to Italy, he did what he could, but you still showed up to the Gritti Palace Hotel the weekend of the wedding with low expectations and a bunch of unanswered texts.
There was a private event in the restaurant and you immediately were drawn to the outdoor portion that overlooked the Grand Canal. The actual ceremony wasn’t until tomorrow, today was simply a chance for the guests to mingle and for the bride and groom to celebrate their last few hours with their loved ones before tying the knot.
With an aperol spritz in one hand and the other gripping the wooden railing above the channel, you took in the sights in front of you. The breeze was gentle and the scenery was breathtaking, stunning enough to make you forget that you were still feeling some effects of jet lag.
Your back was to the rest of the party but your light pink dress that stopped just below your knee stood out compared to the white and beige decor the couple had chosen for this event. One could say it was because the colour was eye-catching, but there was no way to deny how well it accentuated your curves and highlighted your tan skin, making you appear as if you were truly glowing under the Italian sun.
You definitely caught Lance’s eye.
You didn’t even need to turn around for him to recognise you. He saw your hair, dark and natural as it flowed down your back and he knew it was you. The girl he thought he already knew, the girl whose life he had been following through a phone screen for god knows how long.
It was just his luck that Daniel was nearby. Lance took a minute before heading towards you, wanting to confirm that yes it was you and yes it was alright if he spoke to you without crossing some weird driver line. He nudged Daniel’s arm and nodded towards the girl in pink.
“That your sister?” Lance asked, clearing his throat.
Daniel nodded, quite happy that someone else here knew who you were. It was always uncomfortable when you attended gatherings and didn’t know many people, it just made you want to leave early.
“Yeah, you guys have met, right?”
Again, Lance played it off as if he wasn’t waiting for this moment, “No, I don’t think so.”
“Oh definitely go introduce yourself then, mate,” Daniel encouraged, which gave Lance even more confidence. “She’s shy, she'd rather drown herself in aperol spritz’ before ever approaching someone.”
Shy? Lance hadn’t pegged you for being shy. Introverted, maybe. But you seemed to have such a good group of friends and you went on adventures with them quite often that shy just didn’t seem like a characteristic of yours.
“It’s not weird if I…” Lance trailed off, unsure how to ask the rest of his question. “It’s okay if I talk to her?”
Daniel laughed, finding the question to be humorous. He wasn’t in charge of you, who was he to have a say over who you could or couldn’t talk to, “I don’t care, just don’t be a cunt or I’ll have to kick your ass.”
“Deal,” Lance chuckled before he shoved his hands into his pockets and made his way towards the balcony you hadn’t moved an inch from.
Lance wasn’t nervous, but he knew he should have been.
But again, it felt like he knew you. So he was comfortable enough to lean against the railing, not entering too much of your personal space, but close enough that you couldn’t ignore him. You turned your head, expecting to see your brother because as far as you knew, he was the only one here who would ever approach you, but you were pleasantly surprised to see Lance.
“Hi,” you said, already a smile on your face. Lance was someone you recognised. This wasn't a stranger approaching you, you could breathe. He was someone whose name you had heard quite a bit recently too, with his sister getting married and his good performances with Aston Martin.
He was your brothers, best friend’s, soon to be brother in law. It was a long string that connected the two of you, but nonetheless, that connection was there.
Which was why you already felt comfortable with Lance, even with this being the first time you’d ever met.
“You’re Y/N right?” Lance asked. He knew damn well who you were. “I’m Lance.”
“Yeah, yeah,” heat rose to your cheeks at the idea of you being recognised. “Hi, it’s so nice to meet you. I feel like I-” you sucked in a breath instead of finishing your thought, not wanting to come across as overwhelming.
“It feels like we already know each other?” Lance guessed, because this was exactly what was going through his head too.
Quiet laughter passed through your lips, Lance felt weak at the knees.
“In a way, yeah,” you agreed, nodding your head.
You had similar mannerisms to Daniel. Strong eye contact, saying ‘yeah’ to fill the gaps in sentences. Lance looked down at your hand and saw a few tattoos like that traced your wrist and a delicate design of a flower along your finger, similar to your brothers. Something that he hadn’t picked out from your Instagram.
The way you curled your fingers around the fragile stem of the glass caught Lance’s eye next. Your touch looked careful, soft even, and Lance wanted to know what it would be like to feel it for himself.
And this wasn’t one sided.
With Lance in front of you for a change instead of hiding behind Aston Martin admin approved photos, you could appreciate him in a whole new light. Social media and tv interviews didn’t do him justice, he was much more handsome in person.
You liked the confidence he carried, even if he did seem a bit on the introverted side as well. You instantly got the impression that Lance was someone who stuck to himself but cared deeply about the people closest to him. He seemed like someone you wanted on your side, someone you could turn to at any time and know you would get a shoulder to cry on or a celebratory hug or even just someone who would really listen, if that’s what you needed.
You already felt connected to him, even though you knew you had no reasoning behind it.
“I’d offer to get you a drink but it’s an open bar and-” he eyed the aperol spritz in your hand. “-well you already have one.”
“I have two hands,” you teased, but your roguish smiles mirrored one another's and it was only a few seconds later when you and Lance were walking back inside towards the bar.
He thought about dropping his hand to your back, but didn’t want to overstep. Contrary to what he might have wished, you had just met.
But when someone stepped past him and Lance was forced to move closer to you, you didn’t inch away. In fact you looked at the point of contact at your arms and then glanced up at him, still sporting a natural pinky colour in your cheeks.
You didn’t really need another drink just yet but Lance ordered one for himself and when the bartender asked if you wanted a second, you just shrugged and said why not. It was an open bar, who were you to say no?
Lance and you stayed at the bar, getting as comfortable as you could on the stools as you fell into a good conversation. He was easy to talk to, like he was a friend from college that you bumped into by chance.
But even with the natural flow of the back and forth, you had to remind yourself that you were still just getting to know each other.
Within the hour you learned that his favourite colour was dark blue, that when he wasn’t focused on racing he tried going to as many hockey games as he could. The Habs, as he called them, was his favourite team and it took a few minutes and a bit of a history lesson for you to understand how the Montreal Canadiens got the shortened nickname.
You learned he was not a morning person, whereas you thrived in the early hours of the day. He didn’t read as much as he liked to because of his demanding schedule, but you were quick to give him a list of recommendations based on what you thought he might enjoy if he ever did find time.
In return, Lance learned you studied hospitality and had a degree in Hospitality Management, with the goal of one day managing a hotel. When Lance questioned you more on that field you admitted that you actually wanted to take a lodge or a resort that was a bit of a fixer-upper and turn it into something great. You liked a challenge. Lance liked that.
Lance learned that you really enjoyed surfing and right now was actually the prime time for you to be getting ready for the season. While Perth wasn’t the best place in the world for surfers, it was perfect for you because it was never something you wanted to pursue professionally.
When it came to the topic of travelling, Lance was surprised to hear that you didn’t do it as often as he assumed. You explained that everything you needed was on the west coast of Australia and you weren’t an easy person to travel with. You struggled with anxiety in airports, horrible jetlag, you overthought every plan, even if you weren’t the one in charge of the itinerary.
Travelling was a no, to sum it up.
“But Daniel-”
“Travels all the time, yeah,” you finished Lance’s thought with a laugh. “Yeah we’re not alike in that sense. Even coming here was tough, but he told me there was no option to attend virtually.”
“Not a fan of planes?”
“Not in the slightest.”
Lance nodded, already thinking about how to approach the topic of trying to stay in contact long distance without coming off too strong. Sure he could ask for your number, but what if he wanted to see you again? Which he did. If a plane ride from Perth to Venice was a lot to handle, he could imagine a trip to Montreal was even lower on your list.
But Lance really liked talking to you, it was easy. It was natural. He didn’t have to try too hard, he didn’t feel the need to impress you. You laughed at his jokes, you understood each other's humour. The two of you clicked, it was impossible to deny that.
Which is what Lance hoped would happen.
You were everything he had imagined and more and he was asking himself why he never tried to meet you sooner.
That same question flashed through your mind too. Why couldn’t you have met sooner? After months of being forced to try and imagine what sort of person Lance was, it was heartwarming to know that the image you painted of him wasn’t entirely wrong. He was sweet, he was charming, he liked making you laugh, he knew how to keep a conversation going and it was obvious he cared to get to know you.
These were traits you looked for in people, in a partner.
But this chance encounter came a few months too late.
The conversation took a pause when Scotty appeared behind Lance, his soon-to-be ringed hand going to his shoulder as he gave both of you one of his signature smiles.
“Y/N! Happy to see your plane didn’t crash!” Scotty teased, knowing your distaste for air travel.
“If my drink was full I’d throw it on you,” you shot back.
“Ah that’s just a waste of an open bar,” Scotty waved your meaningless threat off. “Honestly, though, thank you for coming. Chloe’s around here somewhere-”
“Lost your wife already?” Lance joked.
“Maybe she’s a runaway bride,” you added. “She can still back out, you know?”
“Ha ha,” Scotty rolled his eyes. “Lovely to see that you two are getting along at my disposal.” He patted Lance’s shoulder and then turned to you, snapping his finger before pointing. “Did Danny talk to you?”
“Um-” you shook your head. Daniel and you hadn’t had a second to catch up since you arrived, despite the dozens of texts you had sent him. “No, why?”
“It’s all sorted out,” Scotty assured you. “It really wasn’t that hard to swing an extra chair, you gave us enough notice. The more the merrier, right?”
“Oh, Scotty thank you,” you breathed out. You reached forward and squeezed his arm in appreciation, but your smile was enough gratitude. It was the type of smile Lance had been waiting for. The grin that overshadowed the rest of your stunning features, the thing that had drawn Lance to your photos in the first place.
Only Lance wasn’t the reason for it.
“Is he down here?” Scotty asked and this was about the time Lance realised he was missing something. There was a layer to this conversation that would tie everything together.
“Jet lag’s still getting to him.” you laughed, nodding your head towards the doors of the restaurant. “He set an alarm to get up, I’m sure he’ll be down here soon.”
“Can’t wait to meet him,” Scotty said with a nod, but there wasn’t much room for you to say anything else before he found a new guest he had yet to interact with.
You looked towards Lance, but he was pretty good at hiding the confusion he was currently experiencing. In fact he played off needing to excuse himself pretty easily, you didn’t think anything of it when he said he needed to speak to Scotty about something quickly.
Lance pulled the snowboarder aside, not at all mirroring his elated expression, “She has a boyfriend?”
Scotty tried to glance in your direction but Lance tugged on his sleeve to get him to stop in his tracks, not wanting to make it obvious they were talking about you.
“She has a boyfriend,” Lance repeated, no longer a question. “You told me she was single.”
Scotty racked his memory for a second and scoffed, “Yeah nine months ago. Not my fault you waited too long to make a move.”
“How was I supposed to make a move when I hadn’t even met her?” Lance was clearly annoyed but he kept his tone to a sort of angry-whisper. “I was waiting for this wedding because I knew she’d be here.”
“Sorry mate,” Scotty sighed, slowly piecing together that this wasn’t something Lance could casually blow off. “But I mean, you couldn’t have liked her that much. You don’t even know her.”
But in a way he did. And god he knew you felt the same. There was no way to explain the connection you two shared, but it was there.
Lance inhaled a sharp breath, doing his best to keep from looking at you across the room, “I feel like I should say something.”
“Don’t,” Scotty immediately rejected the idea. “From what I hear from Danny, she’s happy. She doesn’t need you coming in and mucking it up.”
“But what if she’s-”
Scotty cut him off with a harsh laugh, “What if she’s what? The one? Lance, you just met her!”
“Then why does it feel like I’ve been waiting for her my entire life?”
Scotty let out a deep exhale, lifting his hand to Lance’s shoulder. He gave him a sympathetic squeeze, “Because she’s pretty and you’re lonely. Now let her be. Don’t ruin a relationship during my wedding weekend.”
He walked off shortly after, leaving Lance to, hopefully, make the right choices.
Lance should have listened to Scotty. He should have rejoined the party and leave you be, knowing that his chance with you was either non-existent or just extremely slim. How serious were you and this boyfriend anyway?
As if the universe wanted his question answered, the boyfriend himself walked into the restaurant.
The only reason Lance knew it was the boyfriend was because he saw the way you stood up from the bar and practically ran to him, your pink dress was impossible to mistake even as you hurried to work your way through the party.
Lance watched as your hands went to his tie to adjust it before he leaned forward and greeted you with a kiss. You played with a few strands of his dirty blonde hair, probably making some comment about how it looked like he just woke up. He laughed at whatever you said and Lance hated that you looked happier now than you had all throughout the last hour.
He was now trying to figure out if he had misread the signs. Did you even give him any signs? You sat and talked to him but it was Lance’s own fault if he misread that as being interested.
How did he not know you had a boyfriend?
Why didn’t you mention it?
Why wasn’t that one of the first things you said to Lance when he offered to get you a drink from the bar?
Why did Lance still feel that spark with you when it should have been reserved for your boyfriend?
Lance wasn’t sure how much time had passed as he stood off to the side, questioning everything he ever knew about you, or what he thought he knew. But he came to and snapped out of his thoughts when he saw that familiar shade of pink headed towards him.
“Hey,” you said, your hand was connected to your boyfriend’s as you led him towards Lance.
Lance smiled, how could he not when you approached him? “Hey, sorry, I went back to the bar earlier but you were gone.” Did he feel a little bad about lying? Yes, but it was easier to say that than to say, I stopped talking to Scotty a while ago. I just didn’t know how to interrupt you and your boyfriend.
“Oh, yeah, um-” You pulled the tall blond closer to your side. His hand went to your waist. “Lance, this is Matty. Matty, Lance.”
Matty held out his other hand to connect it with Lance’s. It was a firm handshake, maybe a little too firm on Lance’s part.
“Hey, mate, huge fan,” Matty said, similar accent to yours and Daniel’s.
“Oh thank you,” Lance cleared his throat. “Hope you don’t mind, I’ve been keeping Y/N company.”
“I should be thanking you for that,” Matty laughed, the bitter tone from Lance going right over his head. “I needed a quick nap before this party. I don’t know how you drivers are able to just hop on planes so easily, I think I’d rather sail back to Australia.”
You guys were compatible, at least. Same fear of planes, same dislike for travelling.
Lance didn’t like that. He knew he was the last person who should have an opinion, but he always thought it was opposites that attracted. Shouldn’t you be with someone that encouraged you to step outside your comfort zone?
“Oh there’s Danny and Scotty, I’m going to thank them for letting me come so last minute,” Matty looked towards the opposite end of the room to where your brother and friend were. He ran his fingers over your back and assured you he’d be quick before he headed off to talk to them.
“Last minute?” Lance asked. “So he wasn’t originally supposed to come?”
You laughed, “No, we’ve only been together for about six months. When I RSVP’d to the wedding last year I hadn’t met him yet,” you glanced towards Matty, “And then about a month ago I realised I kind of wanted him to accompany me here. Danny said it would be fine, probably, so he got a ticket to Venice but we actually didn’t get a confirmation until-” you chuckled again. “Well you overheard Scotty. I found out thirty minutes ago that Matty would have a seat at the table tomorrow.”
When you spoke about Matty, your face lit up. Lance couldn’t deny that. He could see how happy this surfer type from Perth made you.
And in return, you saw how Lance was no longer acting himself. He was tense, avoiding your eyes. You called him out on it, “Is everything okay?”
Lance should have taken Scotty’s advice. He should have said everything was fine and walked in the other direction, letting you go back to Matty.
But Lance was a hopeless idiot. He nodded his head towards the doors of the restaurant that lead towards a secluded hallway, “Can we talk?”
You weren’t sure exactly what Lance wanted to talk about but you followed him out into the hall. The music faded behind you when you walked far enough and Lance wasted no time in saying what was on his mind.
“Do you ever meet someone and it just feels right?” He asked.
You hesitated, “What do you mean?”
Lance glanced back towards the party, “Like you see them and you just know there’s a connection. That they’re supposed to be in your life.”
“I mean-” your eyebrows pinched together, “Yeah. I’ve experienced that a few times I guess.”
That clearly wasn’t the answer Lance wanted to hear and his defeated expression told you that. He nodded, coming to his own understanding, one that you were having a bit of trouble following.
“Is it wrong if I say that’s how I felt when I looked at you?”
You stared up at lance, lips parted slightly as you did your best to ignore the devastating feeling of your heart sinking to your stomach. You didn’t have an answer, what could you even say to that?
Lance was practically admitting to believing in love at first sight and you, well, you didn’t see what he saw. You couldn’t.
“Look I didn’t know you had a boyfriend,” Lance continued. “And I don’t mean to blindside you like this, really. I think, well I think I was blindsided when I realised you were already taken.”
This was a lot to wrap your head around.
You never intended to lead Lance on. You chatted with him for a while, yes but you tried to stay behind the line. You didn’t flirt, or at least you didn’t flirt on purpose. You could have said you had a boyfriend, but the truth was, it didn’t cross your mind when you talked to Lance.
Blindsided, he said. It seemed like a harsh word for the situation you found yourselves in.
“Were you blindsided or were you just blind?” You asked, dropping your shoulders to lean against the wall. You watched as Lance really took in your question and he rubbed the back of his neck, unable to come up with a good answer.
You felt for him, really, because you did like him. You liked talking to him, you liked his presence, he was someone that you knew you would get along great with.
You also knew that if this situation were any different, if you showed up to this wedding single, you’d have probably, definitely, given Lance a chance. And this wasn’t something you should have been thinking about because you had a boyfriend. You were happy. Imagining an alternate timeline without Matty seemed wrong.
There was a connection with Lance, but it was one you couldn’t act on.
“Lance, I think we both had an idea of who the other was before we came here, but we had very different ideas as to how this weekend would go,” you continued, a certain gentleness in your tone that Lance appreciated. “I was looking forward to meeting you. And we both agree that it feels as though we already knew each other...but the truth is, we don’t.”
That was a stab right to the chest for Lance, but he nodded in agreement.
“I guess I just thought this weekend would be the start of something,” he admitted, trying to play off the thought with a chuckle.
You wanted to apologise, it was human nature to want to sympathise with other people, but you had nothing to apologise for.
Lance had constructed his own image of you and in it, you were single, you were compatible, you were willing to see this connection through and make something of it.
And that’s what blinded him.
If he had taken a second to actually pay attention to what you shared on social media, he would have recognised the same blonde haired guy showing up in a few photos dating back to almost six months ago. All Lance paid attention to was you, your smile, you having a good time, your adventures. You were private about your relationship, yes, but you weren’t keeping it a secret either.
Lance just didn’t put it together until it was too late.
It hurt you, really. You didn’t like knowing you were the reason for someone’s sorrow. In fact you almost went as far as to say, if things were different…
But things weren’t different. You were with Matty.
Was Matty the right person for you? Lance wanted to ask that but he knew he’d be crossing a line if he did. That was something you had to figure out on your own.
After six months of dating, you liked to think he was. The timing was perfect, he treated you well, he made you undeniably happy.
And yes, you could have looked at Lance and told yourself he had the same qualities. That he was also perfect, that he also could have treated you well. There was no doubt in your mind he could have made you happy if he was given the option.
But timing was not on your side.
Lance licked his lips, taking a step away from you and closer to the crowded restaurant where he knew your boyfriend was waiting, where his family was waiting. You would both go your separate ways and return to how it used to be, following each other's lives through a phone screen.
“Right person, wrong time, huh?” Lance tried to joke, but the soft smile you gave him in return told him that there was some truth to his words, truth that even you didn’t want to admit to.
In an attempt to fix this, you spoke from the heart. Telling Lance what he needed to hear, even if you weren't fully convinced by your own words. As long as you sounded believable, you both could move on from this moment.
“If it’s the wrong time, then it’s probably the wrong person.”
Lance nodded, noticing the way you struggled to keep eye contact, something you hadn’t had issues with all night. He took that as a sign that it was time to walk away. From you, from this, from what could have been if they met only a few months earlier.
He turned and rejoined the party, plastering a painful smile on his face as he carefully made his way through the crowd to order another drink from the bar.
He avoided you and your pink dress for the rest of the night, not because he wanted to, but because it was the right thing to do. And it wasn’t easy because to Lance, you were still the girl that he thought he had been waiting for this entire time. That would take time to get over. He had spent less than a few hours with you and it was the easiest, most carefree evening he’s had in a while, and he knew moving on from you would only be the opposite.
It was his own fault too. Lance was the one who got his hopes up. He was the one who was waiting for the right moment that never came. Or worse, it came and went without him knowing. There was probably a sliver of an opportunity months ago where he could have done something, could have asked Danny to introduce you, could have asked Scotty for your number. By waiting until the wedding, Lance had only set himself up for failure.
If it’s the wrong time, then it’s probably the wrong person.
He didn’t want to think about the way you said ‘probably’. He wasn’t going to. Lance knew you weren’t leaving any sort of hint, you were just letting him down gently, which only further proved how good of a heart you had.
You were so kind, so caring, you were perfect, and you weren’t his.
You never would be.
#lance stroll x reader#ls18#lance stroll#lance stroll imagine#this is a lance stroll fanpage#f1 one shot#f1 requests#lance stroll x you#lance stroll x y/n#lance stroll one shot
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Headcanons for Halloween with Peter Parker
Peter Parker x reader
warnings:
a/n: FORGOT I WAS WRITIN THIS. LATE HALLOWEEN POST. I HAVE BEEN SO BUSY.
prompt:
you were spider-man for halloween (of course)
“really?” -peter
“there’s no better costume i could have picked” -you
peter was…iron man
“don’t tell mr. stark about this. ever” -peter
“too late” -you, taking a picture
you sent it straight to tony
and he called almost immediately
“you could have told me you were gonna be me, im flattered. i could have lent you an old suit of mine so you didn’t have to wear that cheap mask” -tony
“that’s so kind of you, but i dont know how safe it is to wear a military grade weapon to any halloween parties or like, on the street” -you
“well, you guys wouldn’t be on the street. you could fly!” -tony
“thank you, mr. stark. i just think i’ll fit it better with this stuff!” -peter
“well, suit yourself. cheaply.” -tony
you guys took so many pictures together
remaking all kinds of poses and such
(you colored a paper plate to look like captain america’s shield and did the spider pose on peter’s bed)
you both recreated the peter/tony picture together
“can i draw the goatee on your face” -you
“it’d be my greatest honor” -peter
it was sloppy but it was a fantastic addition
“‘FRIDAY, how many hours of sleep should the average human being get each night?’” -peter, mocking tony’s voice
“‘eight hours, mr. stark’” -you, mocking FRIDAY
“‘no, you’re wrong FRIDAY. the answer is two hours every two days’” -peter
fighting the urge to go trick or treating
“i mean—aren’t we a little too old for that?” -you
“i don’t really think there’s an age limit” -peter
“yeah, but like, i was thinking more of a party and some scary movies afterwards” -you
“…i have to call ned” -peter
ned showed up to peter’s house dressed as a spider
“we coordinated this. im the spider that bit you” -ned
may was basically babysitting you guys with a camera during all of this, too
constantly snapping candids
“guys, squeeze together so i can get a few more” -may
you guys ended up finding a party thrown by a midtown student and it was…
okay?
not exactly your speed, you know?
ned actually was kind of into it though
“shots! shots! shots!” -the crowd
ned did one shot
“UGHHHHHH” -ned, hating every second of it
“told you” -you and peter
okay, so maybe the party was a blow
(you guys stole a bunch of candy out of a bowl and left)
the neighborhood had really cool halloween lights, you were able to wander and check out the decor
“that’s so me” -you, every 60 seconds
“no, that’s me” -peter
“no, that’s you” -you, pointing at an inflatable spider that had been deflated
when you got back to peter’s, you found may obsessively baking “halloween treats”
“hi guys! okay, so i have witch finger pretzels, ghost marshmallows, pumpkin cookies—oh! and those tiny pumpkins with paint. go ahead, take some stuff!” -may
you all three squeezed together on the couch and turned on the halloween movie (og of course)
“no one draw any more spiders!” -peter
*you and ned freezing and trying to cover the spiders you just painted*
“oops” -you
cracking up the whole time
peter trying to poke you with the witch finger pretzel
then pretending to pick his nose with it and eat it
“ew, peter! stop!!” -you
“hey, did may just stick some sprinkles in this marshmallow and call it a ghost?” -ned
“yeah. it’s a ghost.” -peter
“yeah, ned. are you too good for it?” -you
*ned quietly eating the marshmallow*
every once in a while you’d start paying attention to the movie again
“gross. fake. dumbass. ew.” -you
eventually you guys all crashed (on the couches, of course) and may made sure to give each of you a blanket so you had a good night
taglist: @alwaysananglophile // @locke-writes // @sweetheartlizzie07 // @queen-destenie // @johnmurphyisqueer // @captainshazamerica // @ravenmoore14 // @canarypoint // @procrastinatingsapphictrash // @swanimagines // @randomfandomimagine // @petersgroupie // @summersimmerus // @scarthefangirl // @bad4amficideas // @sheridans-dynamos // @simsrecs // @prettysbliss // @skdkdkckfk // @simp-legend // @zoeyserpentluck // @wild-rose-35 // @ipurpleeyou // @nekoannie-chan // @punk-rock-raven // @evilcr0ne // @minxsblog // @v0idl1nq // @sydknee624 // @ruvaakke // @thedarkqueenofavalon // @amirahiddleston //@multifandomfix // @beth-gallagher22 // @brutal-out-here // @rqmanoff // @elenavampire21 // @mymelodymia // @pheonixfire777 //
#peter parker imagine#peter parker x reader#peter parker#spiderman#spiderman x reader#spiderman imagine#marvel#marvel x reader#marvel imagine#avengers#avengers x reader#avengers imagine#fall imagine#halloween imagine#autumn imagine#holiday imagine
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LARRY AND LAWRIE HEADCANNONS #2!!
Because holy crap the first one got so much positive attention- (again, headcannons after cut cuz I’m gonna yap for a sec)
Thanks to everyone who enjoyed the first one! It’s my most popular post ever and I’m glad it was so well received. I really hope this is a good follow up! Feel free to let me know if you want more Brawl Stars headcannons going forward cuz I’d be happy to make them.
Anyway it’s finally headcannon time!
Larry focused, Lawrie focused, Both
• Larry’s favorite music genre is literally elevator music (Lawrie likes rock!)
•Both of them hate the Cops theme song, they think it’s very annoying. Doesn’t help that park guest and other brawlers (*cough* Nita and Leon *cough*) tease them with it
• At first, Lawrie didn’t let Larry have a weapon since “they’re dangerous and you don’t need one” but Larry managed to craft his ticket wheel into an explosive weapon somehow and Lawrie was just too afraid/impressed to not let him have it
•They both live in the park’s security station. Specifically, Larry took an unused storage closet and made it into an actual little bedroom, while Lawrie just sleeps in their office (if they sleep at all)
•Lawrie collects bobble heads. They make him smile
•Larry really likes baking! Not to eat the sweet treats (since he can’t even if he wanted to), but he just loves the process of making them. He often bakes cookies with Pearl
•He has no clue that Pearl is related to the Gold Arm Gang somehow. They’ve seen her with them but it just somehow has never clicked and probably never will
•Lawrie does know, but they just think Pearl is harmless enough. The second any other Gold Arm member even gets close to Larry though, they’re ready to strike
•Larry is a hypochondriac even though he can’t even get sick. Lawrie is kinda similar, but they’re just a neat-freak. Either way, everywhere the two go is getting deep cleaned and disinfected
•Lawrie gets a ton of coloring books for R-T since they see R-T as like a little kid and don’t know what else to get them.
•Larry is really good at engineering, and makes elaborate “mouse trap” like contraptions to try and catch criminals. They also make little mini robots! Those don’t have any consciousness but he treat they like his children all the same
•Lawrie pretends they don’t like the little robots, but they will protect those little guys with their life if they have to
•Lawrie’s idea of “fun” is challenging Larry to little games that test their knowledge on all the parks rules (Don’t worry cuz Larry thinks it’s fun too)
•If you bring it up to them, both Larry and Lawrie the living embodiments of anti-smoking/drinking/gambling ads
•People will often sneak up behind Larry and put stickers on them to poke fun at him. He never notices until Lawrie takes them off. He keeps them in a sticker book because they think it means people like him
•No one puts any stickers on Lawrie because he’s just impossible to sneak up on and will punch someone if they try
•They own a cat! Larry found a little Calico kitten and went annoying little brother mode until Lawrie agreed to keep it
•Lawrie hated the idea of having an animal around, but much like a middle aged dad they’re now the one who spoils the cat the most
That’s it for now! Hope you liked it and thanks for reading this!! Again, show some love if you’d like more!
#brawl stars#brawl stars larry#brawl stars lawrie#larry and lawrie#brawl stars headcanons#headcannons#sequel
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Hey there, may I request Female Loid Reader (From Spy x Family) who has Anya with her (And ends up in a relationship with House Wardens and/or Vice House Wardens)
Basically they need a Date so their families will stop asking about their dating life and Reader tells them she need a Pretend Husband because where she’s from she needs a Husband to allow her Daughter into this elite school (But it only allows families with both parents) and sees this as a Win-Win (As she explains that it’s perfect practice for her since they’re able to help her get a feel of being a ‘Wife’ and their Families will leave them alone about dating)
However… she accidentally slips and says she’s their ‘Wife’ and chaos just UNFOLDS (But after they calm down, they’re VERY happy and jokingly state that there is ‘FINALLY’ someone who can ‘tolerate’ their son) and immediately love her and her child (They also jokingly but they’re actually VERY serious state that since Anya is here, the demand for more grandchildren will be on ‘hold’)
Reader ends up being the perfect wife (Makes them healthy, well-balanced meals, cleans, is very sweet, helps them with any assignments they have… prevents fights with students, uses her incredible Athleticism to apprehend rowdy students, can take down multiple people in quick and swift movements, very intelligent in solving mysteries and crimes around the school and is VERY level headed)
Reader basically becomes Mom of the ALL the other Students (Including Grim) as she makes healthy and delicious meals, clean their rooms, helps them with their assignments, scold and give reasonable punishments for bad behavior, praise and treat them for good behavior, protect them from harm, have them do chores for rewards (And is actually the only thing keeping the school from being set on fire)
Much would be appreciated
I chose the Vice Housewardens for this, but I decided to add Malleus as well.
Preface: It’s starting off as Parent’s Day at NRC, where the students’ parents can come see the atmosphere of the school. You’ve been attending the school for a while, and you have your daughter with you. Your family has been bothering you about being single.
Trey Clover
You were on your last nerve. Your family kept bugging you about getting with someone, the school you wanted to send your daughter to wouldn’t accept her without the consent of two parents, and the mission your agency sent you on required you to build a family for a disguise. So, as a result of all this, you came to the conclusion that Trey was the best option.
When you asked him to be your temporary husband, he was completely caught off-guard. You tried to soften the deal by saying you would try to be a good wife by cherishing him, taking over the cooking, cleaning, basically acting as a normal housewife. To Trey, having his crush ask this of him was a dream come true, so that’s why he said yes.
The first time you referred to yourself as ‘his wife’, it made him so flustered. You were introducing him to your parents when you said it, and everyone besides you and Anya were in total shock. Trey’s face was completely red, but he had to admit that ‘Y/N Clover’ sounded nice. It was your turn to blush when your parents asked for more grandchildren and your husband promised their wish would come true eventually.
The relationship dynamic between the two of you is so freaking wholesome. You both can be seen in the kitchen preparing a meal for your small little ‘family’. Once you put Anya to bed, you and Trey slow-dance in the kitchen while you both clean up and put away any leftovers.
Speaking of Anya, Trey is such a good dad to her. He’s the kind of father who would give good life lessons, the kind of father that would put his daughter on his shoulders just so she could touch the ceiling, the kind of father who secretly lets his daughter have a cookie before dinner as long as she doesn’t tell mom.
Ruggie Bucchi
You were on your last nerve. Your family kept bugging you about getting with someone, the school you wanted to send your daughter to wouldn’t accept her without the consent of two parents, and the mission your agency sent you on required you to build a family for a disguise. So, as a result of all this, you came to the conclusion that Ruggie was the best option.
When you asked him, he took a few minutes to consider the consequences of both accepting and refusing your desperate request. You definitely knew how to sweeten the deal, what with throwing in the fact that you would cook and clean, cherish him, basically do anything just to get your parents off your back. What you didn’t know is that he would’ve accepted it anyways.
The first time you had referred to him as ‘your husband’ was when you introduced him to your parents. See, your parents actually adored Ruggie because he was very family oriented as a result of how he grew up. You calling him that made him blush a little, and he became a bit more clingy after. He totally changed your contact name in his phone to “My Sugar ❤️”.
The relationship between the two of you is fun and playful. You both are excellent cooks, but you engage in lighthearted banter. You’ve even done the ‘Simba’ thing with some flour that you had on your hand and it made Anya laugh. Reggie’s heart always melts when he hears her laugh.
If we’re talking about Ruggie being a parent, I feel like he’s had experience raising some kids back in his village, so he is prepared. Anya loves him so much, and she has him wrapped around her finger. He wishes that he could spend more time with her, but he has a job as a servant to Leona.
Jade Leech
You were on your last nerve. Your family kept bugging you about getting with someone, the school you wanted to send your daughter to wouldn’t accept her without the consent of two parents, and the mission your agency sent you on required you to build a family for a disguise. So, as a result of all this, you came to the conclusion that Jade was the best option.
When you asked him to be your husband, he was quite surprised by this impromptu marriage proposal. However, it did sound like a great deal when you listed out the terms and conditions. You would try your best to act as a typical wife and he had to act as a typical husband. So, he agreed, as long as it wasn’t temporary but permanent.
When you introduced Jade to your parents, you referred to him as ‘your husband’. He loved it, and called you ‘his wife’ throughout the meeting with your parental unit. Now, when your parents asked you both when they would be getting more grandchildren, you were flustered while Jade talked to them about how he planned to have a larger family once they finished school.
The relationship between the two of you can only be described as romantic. It has a very domestic vibe, with you both preparing meals and cleaning up after as well as making time to play with Anya. Jade is very protective over the two of you, and it shows very clearly. If only he knew that you were a secret agent and Anya was a telepath.
Jade as a father would be so adorable. He always sorts out his schedule so that he would be able to hang out with his daughter. His heart always melts whenever he hears Anya call him ‘dad’ because it just reassures him that his little family is real and right here.
Jamil Viper
You were on your last nerve. Your family kept bugging you about getting with someone, the school you wanted to send your daughter to wouldn’t accept her without the consent of two parents, and the mission your agency sent you on required you to build a family for a disguise. So, as a result of all this, you came to the conclusion that Jamil was the best option.
When you asked him to be your husband, he almost touched the pan that was on the stove. He couldn’t think clearly for a few seconds. You listed all the things you would do as his wife just so he would agree. Honestly, it all sounded like he was in heaven at the moment, so he agreed.
When he met your parents, you introduced him as ‘your husband’, and he would’ve been so embarrassed had he not been in front of the most important people in your life. He and you were flustered when they asked for more grandchildren.
The relationship between the two of you is chaotic but wonderful. Since Jamil is the Vice Housewarden and also the servant of Kalim, he rarely has any free time. However, you live up to your promise as his wife (he still can’t get used to that) and you always make sure that a warm meal is waiting for him once he gets home. Anya, however, is usually asleep at that time.
Speaking of Anya, Jamil loves her very much. He would give the whole world up just to spend more time with her. That’s why Kalim lets him have more time off so that he can spend more time with his family. On these days off, he makes you both breakfast in bed as well as tells Anya stories of the Scalding Sands.
Rook Hunt
You were on your last nerve. Your family kept bugging you about getting with someone, the school you wanted to send your daughter to wouldn’t accept her without the consent of two parents, and the mission your agency sent you on required you to build a family for a disguise. So, as a result of all this, you came to the conclusion that Rook was the best option.
When you asked him to be your husband, he nearly fainted. You wanted him to be your what 😀? Once he actually processed what you said, he immediately accepted. To be joined in holy matrimony with his beloved Y/N… he could die a happy man right then and there!
When you introduced him to your parents, you called him ‘your husband’. He responds by calling you ‘sa femme’. There was true love in the air between the two of you. You were caught off-guard when your parents asked for more grandchildren, but the blush on your face worsened when Rook responded with, “Only when ma femme allows it~”.
The relationship between the two of you is exhilarating and exciting. Everyday is like an adventure for you and Anya. He has many stories about his day of serving as the Vice Housewarden of Pomefiore. Also, when you both put your daughter to sleep, you both make your way to the forest. There, you both dance barefoot in the grass, relishing in each other’s company.
Here is another very fun dad. He calls Anya his ‘princesse’ and supports her in everything she decides she wants to do. He will sing her French lullabies at night to help her go to sleep, and will teach her a few French words and phrases.
Malleus Draconia
You were on your last nerve. Your family kept bugging you about getting with someone, the school you wanted to send your daughter to wouldn’t accept her without the consent of two parents, and the mission your agency sent you on required you to build a family for a disguise. So, as a result of all this, you came to the conclusion that Malleus was the best option.
When you asked him, he was also caught off-guard. You explained your reasoning and how you would do your best to be a good wife, and it sounded absolutely wonderful. Plus, your daughter was utterly adorable, so he accepted.
When you introduced him to your parents, they were immediately won over by him. He loves when you refer to him as ‘your husband’ because he just loves you so much and it reminds him of your love for him. He refers to you as ‘his wife’, ‘darling’, and ‘dearest’.
The relationship between the two of you is both hectic and peaceful. It’s hectic when Malleus’ retainers are around because you weren’t Sebek’s favorite person. It was quiet when the two of you were back at Ramshackle and hanging out like any normal family.
Malleus as a father… Anya is most definitely spoiled. Anything (within reason) that she wants, she will get. The dragon fae raises her as his heir, because that’s essentially what she is if you two are married. If she has trouble with any concept, he will talk to her in a gentle and soothing voice so that she doesn’t need to worry about failing.
Lilia Vanrouge
You were on your last nerve. Your family kept bugging you about getting with someone, the school you wanted to send your daughter to wouldn’t accept her without the consent of two parents, and the mission your agency sent you on required you to build a family for a disguise. So, as a result of all this, you came to the conclusion that Lilia was the best option.
When you asked if he would be your husband, he immediately accepted. He doesn’t need to hear the criteria or what’s in it for him, because as long as he is with you he is happy as he could ever be.
When you introduce him to your parents, they are pleased with how lighthearted he is. He lives for the moment when you call him ‘your husband’ and he calls you ‘his wife’. He responds in confidence when your parents ask for more grandchildren and says, “If my wife tells me that she is ready, then we shall give you the grandchildren you ask for.”
The relationship between the two of you is quite funny. You take over the cooking because he sucks at it, while he volunteers to clean. He loves leaving little notes for you around Diasomnia and Ramshackle whenever he has to leave to go with Malleus somewhere.
We all know that Lilia is the dad of 3 different boys (officially the dad of Silver), so Anya is the first girl he has ever had to raise. She is definitely a daddy’s girl, and she loves hanging out with him. He finds her absolutely endearing, and whenever he has to leave, he always makes sure to place a kiss on her forehead before he heads out.
#disney twisted wonderland#twisted wonderland x reader#twisted wonderland#twst#twst x reader#disney twst#twst wonderland#trey clover x reader#twst trey clover#twst trey#trey x reader#trey clover#ruggie bucchi x reader#ruggie x reader#ruggie#ruggie bucchi#twst ruggie#twst ruggie x reader#twst ruggie bucchi#twst trey x reader#twst jade leech#jade leech x reader#twst jade#jade x reader#jade leech#twst jade x reader#twst jamil viper#twst jamil#jamil viper x reader#jamil
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Not really an anti thing per se, but something I feel the need to vent about:
One of the reasons I feel so conflicted on the Harry Potter thing is not only my concerns about continuing to give Rowling a platform, but also just, unpopular opinion, I… kinda think the fandom can be almost as performative as the haters?
I KNOW HOW THAT SOUNDS BUT HEAR ME OUT!
First off: they’re always going on about how "oh, we’re making ALL the hp characters trans to piss off the TERF!" and then you look at the fics and art and stuff and it’s like, at least 80-90% is just the same cookie cutter "Draco and Harry are gay trans men who make out 24/7 and there's some trans gay WolfStar in the background too, I guess, and also maybe black trans Hermione can have a cameo at some point as a treat, but who cares because it’s Drarryin' Time! *proceeds to Drarry all over AO3*" fics.
Like… why is it that after Rowling announced her status as a card-carrying fascist, "all the hp characters" suddenly became just Harry, Draco, Remus, Sirius and maybe Hermione if you're lucky? ESPECIALLY considering the fact that I know from experience that the fandom used to have way more diversity headcanons than this?
What about Ron "angsty because his mom wanted a daughter" Weasley? Or Neville and Hannah, who never had children (clearly, one of them is trans! Or maybe both are trans AND ace! Two groups Rowling hates for the price of one!)? Where are the Trans Dean/Seamus and Trans Lavender/Parvati fics? Trans Luna??? One of Bill and Fleur's kids being the first known male Veela hybrid in the series (literally a fuckin' goldmine of gender possibilities)???? What about fuckin' Nymphadora "gender nonconforming shapeshifter who hates her traditionally feminine name" Tonks (if ANY character would’ve been made trans or enby to spite Rowling, I’d have thought Tonks and her son Teddy would be the FIRST choices)???? EBONY DEMENTIA DARKNESS RAVEN WAY (objectively the BEST Harry Potter character)??!!!????
Part of me suspects that this is at least partly because these characters aren’t "popular" and therefore won't get the same attention as the Drarry "rivals to lovers" vibe and the All The Young Dudes spin-offs, but I can’t be fully sure of that.
And like… a lot of times it looks like their activism just, begins and ends with fandom activity? A lot of the same questions levied at HP haters ("are you supporting and/or donating to pro-trans causes?" "Are you making an effort to understand WHY TERF ideology is bad?" etc., all 100% valid questions) can also be levied against fans who make their headcanons and shipping the main source of their activism.
I’m not saying that NO hp fans are doing actual activism, I’ve seen a few examples, but it feels to me at least like the majority are not. It just seems they think shipping Harry and Draco whilst transing them to pretend it makes the TERF seethe (when really she probably doesn’t even know your fanfic exists) is a substitute for activism, just as HP haters think hating the series and patting themselves on the back for not reading it when they were twelve is a substitute for activism.
I guess the bright side is that at least the Drarry shippers aren’t harassing people? There are testimonies from trans people about hp fans harassing them, but the majority of those fans obviously wouldn’t also be writing trans Drarry fics so ehh?
Idk, like I said I’m conflicted and I need to vent. I’ve been holding this vent in for a while now.
I guess my thesis statement here is: HP fandom, if y'all really want to "diversify Harry Potter to spite the TERF", then please for the love of Glaux ADD MORE CHARACTERS AND IDENTITIES TO YOUR HEADCANON ROSTER.
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Out of all my little au’s about pokemon, this is one of my favorites that I like to replay in my head from time to time.
It starts with the reader just suddenly ending up in the world of pokemon, doesn’t really matter how it happened, you just one day appear on a bench in Monostoke with a text message from god along the lines of, “Yeah, I kinda made a mistake bringing you here, but I can’t exactly send you back. Best I can do is give you a working ID and 500 poke dollars, good luck.”
As a reasonable person, your only kinda majorly upset at the news of this, but realizing that your going to make the best out of your situation, so you quickly check up on where you exactly landed plot wise, only to find that you’re at just before the main plot starts. A new goal then presents itself to you, DON’T MESS UP THE PLOT. It’s a simple goal really, you don’t want to some how mess up someone catching Eternatus and have it go on to destroy the region, where would you live then, you can’t exactly afford a ticket out of the country at the moment.
So you find a job in Wyndon, the last place that the protagonists go and find a job at a Battle Cafe. You find the job to be quite entertaining, watching people battle for seating while serving them sweets while business is slow, but when in the middle of a rush, you tend to zone out, barely being able to remember your regulars faces. This is also where Leon enters the picture. He’s your hundredth or so customer during the rush so you’re not paying too much attention any more, although you do find it odd the way he’s dressed, a face mask, grey hat and sweater to match. Then his order’s even stranger, just a small black coffee, no sugar or milk. He even refuses the free cookie on the side, what a weird guy. But because you’re rushing, you don’t leave much more to that thought and misspell his name on his coffee cup as Lee.
The second time he comes along is when the end of your shift is nearing, and you’re tired from the rush that happened not too long ago. He comes in with the same outfit as before, minus the face mask, but very much wet from the rain outside. As you’re also cleaning up the shop however, you don’t really pay much attention to that fact, or to his face for that matter. But you do engage in small talk ranging from the rain, to pokemon battles that you both had recently seen to the strange news of pokemon gigamaxing outside of power spots and the wild area.
You finally get him his drink after half an hour, the same black coffee from before, and when you ask him his name to write on the cup, he chuckles a bit, and says “Lee, just call me Lee.”
The third time he comes by is at the beginning of your shift, and this is the first time where you actually recognize him for who he is, the champion, Leon. Of course, not to make things too awkward, you just pretend you still don’t know who he is. He even asks you if you watch the gym challenge on tv, and you to save yourself, say no, you don’t even watch that much tv or follow any sports.
This surprises Leon, but he’s quick to change the subject after that. Probably so you can both talk about something you would both know, but in the back of your head you can’t help but think that it was possibly because he just wanted someone to talk to that would treat him like a normal person, not the champion.
You two hang out like this a bit more, at the starts and ends of your shifts a few times before another gym leader tags along, Nessa. Of course, when you take their orders, she tells you her name is Nessy, (Oh wow), but you all get along nicely. And when they leave you see her shove his arm in a playful, teasing matter.
This happens a few more times with various other gym leaders before Raihan follows Leon in. You begin chatting them up almost instantly, and you immediately get hit with Raihan openly flirting with you. Trying to keep your innocent and oblivious persona going, you out right ignore him doing so, and before too long you feel the tension in the room rise as you pour them both coffee, your back turned so you don’t see Leon absolutely staring daggers at Raihan. They leave shortly after you hand them their drinks, making you a bit confused in the end, as they had only been there for 5 minutes, and Raihan had stopped flirting after a few attempts of his had failed.
This event probably would have caused you to worry a bit more, but literally the day afterwards, the darkest day occurred, and you got a few days off of work, before getting back to the grind. You realized after your second day back that Leon still hadn’t shown up, but with him still being the champion for a few more days, it wouldn’t surprise you if he was helping repair damages from the darkest day, and also trining to find Ex- Chairman Rose.
It was in the newspaper, one of the days that you actually bought it as you walked to work. As you walked through the streets, ducking into an alleyway as a shortcut, the news caused you to short circuit for a second.
Leon had once again kept his wining streak, getting to be champion for at least one more year.
This wasn’t supposed to happen. As you struggle to figure out why this occurred, with your nose buried in the paper, you bump into someone, and as you look up to apologize, you freeze, it’s Leon, in his champion attire at that. And when he looks at the paper you’re holding, seeing his face on the cover, his face contorting from happy to see you to... whatever that was, you run.
He calls after you, but you run. You don’t know why.
You get on the train, stopping after 30 minutes because of a flock of wooloo, when it hits you.
You fell in love. And that happy little pretend bubble you both loved so much just popped. There couldn’t be anymore pretending anymore. You would have to talk to him eventually, if he even tried to talk to you. You would have to go back.
But ... you’re a coward, so you just called in sick.
Wandering around Hammerlocke, you pretended to be a tourist. Looking through all of the old buildings and structures is quite nice as you avoid any digital build boards with his face. You sit on a bench, looking out onto the wild area, when Raihan passes you by, on the phone. He takes a double take, before ending his call and turning back to you to say hey.
He sits down, and talks about the view for a bit before asking you if you know who the champion is.
“Yes, yes I do.”
Tears begin to fall down your face, turning onto a flood, as Raihan tries his best to comfort you. You began to spill, that you had known for awhile now, but you didn’t want to bring it up because you didn’t want to make things awkward or disappoint him or lose him or-
“Oh Arceus, what happened?”
There he was, in the flesh, again. Leon. He looked disheveled, like he had run a marathon, yet he was still wearing his champion outfit from earlier. He rushed over to you, taking off and draping his cape over you as he asks if you’re alright.
You aren’t alright, but you say yes as you continue to tear up and stare at the setting sun.
Leon begins to say how sorry he is that he didn’t tell you that he was the champion, but with a soft murmur about how you’ve known for a while now. He quiets down, and as you two just sit there, not knowing what to say next, Raihan slips out of there.
Not too long after, he takes you back to Wyndon by way of Charizard and you spend the night at his apartment in the city, just watching random shows you find on late at night.
And when you make up in the morning, it’s to the news going on how the champion might have found someone else, rather than any challengers to give a champion of a time to, followed by what you could see of his phone. Hop and his mother, and a few other numbers sending a few variations of the text, ‘When did you get a girlfriend Mr. Workaholic!’
Oh... well at least you aren’t interfering with the plot anymore.
[I’m sorry if it seemed a little rushed at the end, it’s my first time really writing down something like this, there were also a few plot lines I skipped in order for the story to be a bit more cohesive.]
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🧶 🐿 🍁 🥧 for Yancy ~ rebeccaselfships
@rebeccaselfships <3 ty! hope you and your f/os are doing well ^_^
🧶: You and your f/o have busted out your cozy autumn clothing! What are you two wearing?
i've ditched my normal t shirts and hoddies for turtlenecks under long cardigans, but yancy is too committed to the Greaser Aesthetic(tm) to really change his look much. he just wears his flannel-lined leather jacket instead of his lighter one lol
🐿: What are some of you and your f/o’s favorite autumn activities? Do you have any special traditions?
"you know how much i love to stab" yancy insists we carve pumpkins we go to a pumpkin patch to get, and i insist we deck the house out with decorations. we also have a list of halloween/horror movies we watch every year
🍁: What is your favorite thing about autumn? What’s your f/o’s favorite thing about it?
our favorite things are the same, actually- watching the colors change and the leaves fall. i grew up where that didn't happen, and it doesn't happen much around happy trails either. since it's not something either of us really experienced before we met, it's very special to both of us that we get to experience it together
🥧: What are you and your f/o’s favorite autumn treats?
i'm a truly terrible cook. it's a mess and it stresses us both out and the food is not very good.
there is one (1) exception to this- my family's gingersnaps recipe. i love baking them, and they're fucking delicious. one recipe makes about 72 cookies, so even halved, it's a good thing we both love them so much lol
once it's time to start baking them, it's a constant flow of work (it takes about as long for a batch to bake as it does for me to get the next batch ready to go), so i throw on music and just lose myself in the flow.
i pretend not to notice, but every time i make them, yancy stands just outside the kitchen and watches me sing and dance a bit as i work. enjoying that moment is just as much part of why he loves them (and asks me to make them) so much as how good the cookies themselves are.
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open air coffee shop
Crisp autumn air flows through the cafe through the two open windows, keeping the more uptight customers away and leaving a group of about seven total within the shop. Two baristas behind the counter, one in training, and five customers, all of which are there alone. Four are regulars- the man who sits in the booth closest to the door, the woman who always buys two cookies and a seasonal latte, the young college student who's always typing away at their laptop, and her.
The final is some random passerby looking for aesthetics. They take a picture of their latte art and post it online before taking a small sip. From the look on their face, they don't actually like coffee.
Her order is always the same. Espresso and a slice of freshly baked tart, thanks, the change is your tip. She's halfway through both, idly scribbling away notes to give to Illiya.
The diagnosis must be wrong. There's a way around it. The expansive properties of the most recent sample (82-B-07 is the code I think) will be key.
But that doesn't really matter, because, well, it's not why she goes to this coffee shop every morning. No, none of them come here for their work. She can see it, the distortion in the air and the way the water ripples beneath the surface, casting reflections onto the walls. Everyone comes here because they've got something wrong with them.
It's subtle. But she can taste it in the air- the man in the corner booth pretends to be a watercolor artist who happens to like the coffee and atmosphere a lot, but his wrists are covered in scars and frantic motions of his brush often look like knives slashing through steel. The college student will stare off into the ceiling by none of their own volition, mid-sentence, mid-thought, and curse themselves for it.
The woman who buys two cookies always meticulously arranges them on the plate, the exact same way, bites into them in the same ways, and by now the barista has learned she appreciates always having the same art atop the similar white cups. She eyes the seat with a strange look if one of the other three does not appear on a given day.
And, of course, she sees things. She sees the spiders crawling on the walls and the breeze bringing in shadows that dark about and whisper in words that aren't in a language she knows but understands nonetheless; she calmly sips her drink and scribbles some more notes. No, they're all aware; it's the reason they all come back.
Something about this open-air coffee shop in the corner has kept all four of them enraptured, despite their eccentricities, and all four of them now keep coming in wonder of what keeps the other three here. It's not conventionally inviting- it's not closed off and cozy, but the walls are brick with some overlaid sections of dark, warm wood, and some gentle wall art is hung. The counter is a stark white, a remnant from whatever this place used to be.
"There you are," someone says, and belatedly she realized that Illiya has shown up.
"What?"
"What do you mean, what? Can't talk to a friend I see out in public?"
She only glares at the woman, who laughs something gentle but malicious. "Well, let me go get a coffee and I'll join you."
The other patrons, save for the random passerby who focuses on finishing the coffee they never wanted, watch this new intruder on their space like hawks. Perhaps they are empathetic to her discomfort, but it feels like they watch with laser-sharp eyes looking for mistakes or a slip of the mask. Maybe they are- maybe they validate themselves by seeing others fail, and they want that from her now.
Or maybe she's just the slightest bit paranoid. Hard not to be when the whispers in your ear tell you so.
Illiya sits down, having gotten a latte in the meantime. It felt like no time at all, though in fairness her sense of time has always been warped. It is a miracle she wakes only an hour before the sun most days.
"You got any info for me?"
"The most recent specimen should be key to treatment."
"You think it can be treated?"
"Certainly."
"With...?"
"You've seen that thing's expansive properties?"
"What, are you suggesting-"
"That we find a way to utilize them in this case? Absolutely. It's an obvious solution, frankly."
"Yeah, but that thing doesn't stop growing. How are we going to stop it?"
"We figure out how to stop it when we figure out how it grows. Simple enough."
She scoffs, getting up from the table. "Yeah, okay. I'll let the boss know."
"Go ahead," Vermouth replies, waving her hand vaguely. It feels like bugs are crawling all over it, which she tries to ignore as she closes her eyes. "You act like it'll get me in trouble."
"It should," Illiya replies, leaving the sanctity of the open-air coffee shop.
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Interruptions~ D.W
prompt: ‘How long are you guys going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?’
word count: 563
You loved spending time with Damian at his house, it was always so much more entertaining than your own house however with all of his siblings and his butler around it did mean the two of you rarely got to spend any time alone but you never made a fuss about it as his brothers always loved to tell you embarrassing stories about Damian. Today was a very rare occasion when Damian and yourself were the only ones in the manor, Dick had gone back to Bludhaven, Jason was off doing god knows what, Bruce and Tim were on a business trip and Alfred was visiting family back in England which meant you got Damian and the house all to yourself.
The whole day was spent baking random sweet treats ready for the evening when you got to have the cinema room in the manor all to yourselves. You baked cupcakes, cookies and pizza and managed to not burn the place down which was a huge plus. And so here you were cuddled up together on the soft seats watching whatever movie Damian had picked, clearly not actually watching as you were too busy staring at the young man whose head was laid in your lap. You turned your head back to the screen absentmindedly threading your fingers through his hair enjoying the feel of it carding through fingers.
After a while the movie ended and you checked your phone seeing it was late.
‘You wanna go to bed?’ you proposed to the man in your lap and he made nodded his head and made his way to get up
You both quickly got ready for bed in comfortable silence and hopped in his bed. You felt him press a quick peck to your temple before falling asleep.
The next thing you knew you were being woken up by a hushed voice from who you could only assume was Dick based on the gushing that was going on around your bed. This went on for a while but you just pretended to be asleep to avoid the awkwardness of your boyfriend's brothers gushing over you and your boyfriend cuddling up together. That was until a voice from beside you halted the hushing going on
‘How long are you guys going to stand around my bed like a bunch of creepers?’ Damian grumbled, his morning voice very prominent which made butterflies bloom in your stomach, it was cliché but he never failed to have this effect on you
Damian nuzzled more into your back trying to ignore his annoying brothers, when they still persisted in their gushing he grabbed the nearest decorative pillow and threw it in their general direction, you assumed it hit Tim based on the small ‘hey’ from the unsuspecting boy. Eventually they all left which left just you and Damian again. You turned to face the man behind you to see he was awake, he gave you a sleepy smile and pecked you on the nose. The two of you sat admiring each other for a while before he broke the silence.
‘I’m sorry for the beloved they are insufferable sometimes. I didn’t even think they would be back this early’ he apologised
‘Its ok Dami.’ you reassured pecking his lips
The small moments between you and Damian were always great despite his brothers always finding a way to interrupt.
#dc imagine#damian wayne imagine#damian wayne x reader#drabble#oneshot#batman imagine#robin imagine#damian x reader#milky04moo
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Could you do the brothers and undateables + luke with an mc who has a kid
OMG YES ?? THANK YOU !!
a/n: i wrote this so long ago and it didn’t save even tho i saved it so i got mad and didn’t write it again bc i couldn’t remember it so take two
also like some of them might have a romantic relationship w MC but some might be friends it depends on how i see it but i hope you like it !!
MC who has a kid !
Lucifer
- the kid was not in the file
- why was the kid not in the file ??????
- queue confused lucifer
- nevermind the kid not being in the file
- how did the kid even get here
- he has zero time to take care of another child
- nonono don't touch that-
- he's tired enough with his children for brothers
- the kid isn't even that cute
- okay nevermind the kid is really cute
- nicknames the kid "mini mc"
- MC needs a babysitter for a night ? who cares about paperwork spending time w MC's kid is more important
- probably ends up doing paperwork anyways and let's the kid help him but stapling papers or something
- falls into a patterned routine of checking on the kid
Mammon
- lowkey thought he wouldn't get along w the kid especially since he would have to take care of them too
- once he actually talks to the kid tho they form a bond
- partners in crime instantly
- MC has a kid ?? perfect *insert mischievousness*
- usually just recruits the kid to play pranks with him or be a part of his scams
- MC got mad and he didn't do it anymore
- after that mammon pretends like he's a bad influence on the kid but in reality he actually teaches the kid like important stuff
- would die/kill for MC and their kid
- would be the fun uncle dynamic
- he genuinely cares abt MC and their kid but won't admit it unless in private
- never really expected to become this involved in the kids life
- starts bawling in front of MC and their kid when the kid calls him "dad"
Levi
- also thought he would hate the kid
- who knew they would be gamer buddies
- the kid beats him in mariokart and 1v1 minecraft battles and levi doesn't know how
- one time levi lost he curled up in a blanket and cried so the kid brought him ice cream and levi swore to protect the kid with his life
- then instead of battling they teach each other what they know
- MC learned they were staying up past the kids bedtime so they got scolded
- levi now makes sure to get the kid to bed ontime
- he treats the kid like a younger sibling because he loves being an older brother
Satan
- doesn't like kids
- his room is an anti-kid zone
- though that's not to say he wouldn't take the kid to the school library and try to get them to read good books
- he starts with fairytails and then gets into what he personally thinks is the best
- ends up reading and the kid falls asleep on his lap
- MC has several pictures of instances like this
- satan really ends up bonding with the kid and would fight anyone who hurt them
- he overhears the kid ask MC if "dad" can read them a goodnight story again and his face turns bright red
- buys the kid a bookshelf for their room
Asmo
- instantly bonds with the kid
- gossip sessions and face masks in his room
- gets the kid to get all the drama and tell it to him because the kid can easily eavesdrop
- absolutely spoils the kid and buys them all the cutest clothes or whatever they want
- has mini dance parties with juice boxes and gummies in his room for the kid
- the kid makes asmo care about more and asmo really loves the kid
- does the kids makeup and hair for fun
- basically best friends
Beel
- the two of them together are such cinnamon rolls
- the kid will get beel an extra cookie every now and then
- he would go from 0 to 100 real quick to protect the kid
- beel can pick up both MC and their kid at the same time and the kid loves it
- beel let's the kid sit on his shoulders to be the tallest in the house
- whenever beel gets to taste test food he tries his hardest to save some for the kid :)
- beel makes the kid and MC a scrapbook of their adventures together
- beel literally has the best time when he's with the kid
Belphie
- at first he didn't wanna be near the kid because he thought his naps
- it caught him by surprise that the kid would nap with him
- MC had pictures of the two napping together
- the kid has fallen asleep right on belphie before and belphie woke up surprised to say the least
- belphie bought a nice pillow for the kid to nap on instead of the kid napping on him
- eventually he also bought them a blanket with the kids name on it
- napping buddies 100%
Diavolo
- totally used his money to spoil the kid
- invites the kid to his kingly meetings and tells his council that the kid is his advisor
- he has barbatos make the kids favorite snacks to eat during meetings
- he lets the kid play dress up in his royal attire
- he will get the kid anything they want and MC too
- he prepares royal dinners for them
- overall he's just very dramatic and acts with the kid and has a lot of fun
Barbatos
- he learns the kids favorite meals and makes them
- he honestly doesn't think anything of it when it was discovered that MC had a kid
- he just adapted pretty easily
- he always has a spare room ready in the castle for the kid
- he adores the kid to death
- also joins diavolo in spoiling the kid
- he also lets the kid run around the castle and he will play tag with them
Simeon
- he is the absolute sweetest to the kid
- treats the kid like an angel both literally and figuratively
- he loves to just hang out with the kid
- he tried to teach them how to bake
- he's has movie marathons with the kid
- he always buys the kid something small and cool and collectible whenever he's out
- he writes the kid short stories
- he likes to play games with the kid like monopoly and life
Luke
- best friends with the kid
- they spend so much time together
- they will disappear for hours on adventures
- luke teaches the kid everything he knows
- such a wholesome friendship
- they taste test simeon's desserts together
- literal innocent angels
--
a/n: IM SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG TO WHOEVER ASKED BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT GAVE A GOOD DAY AND DRINK SOME WATER <33
#obey me#obey me shall we date#mars on earth#omswd#obey me belphie#obey me satan#obey me lucifer#obey me mammon#obey me beel#obey me asmo#obey me levi#obey me diavolo#obey me barbatos#obey me simeon#obey me solomon#obey me luke
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On Your Right (M. Tkachuk)
Author's Note: The longest one-shot I have ever written is for @raysofcrosby for @antoineroussel's Summer Fic Exchange; this is my first exchange, so hopefully, I did well. Thanks to Demi for organizing this! I truly had a blast working on this. I hope you enjoy this!! I used inspo from To All the Boys I've Loved Before and Bridgerton for this. Enjoy reading!
Summary: When you and Matthew both find yourself needing dates to individual events, Matthew proposes a plan where you both fake date. He suggests that he, who's been in love with you since the age of ten, and you, who is convinced Matthew hates you, date. What could possibly go wrong?
Word Count: 21.4k
Warnings: the time may not coincide with the way time works, but ignore that; hatred; friends hating each other; Matthew being an ass; fake dating; mentions of sex (nothing explicit or too NSFW, though); planes; only one bed
Sitting on the patio chair of the Tkachuk's deck was exactly how you expected to spend a Sunday afternoon in the early weeks of summer vacation. For the past ten years, it's the exact way you've always spent your Sunday afternoons in the summer. It was always the same. Your mother and Chantal would be in the kitchen with the air conditioning, and your dad and Keith would be at the grill making dinner. What they would make would change, but it would usually be somewhere between burgers and hotdogs to chicken or salmon. It was always a surprise. They'd never tell the kids not wanting any complaining. You always sat in a chair with Taryn on your left and with Matthew on your right. Across from you sat your brother and Brady next to him. Keith always sat at one head and Chantal at the other. Your dad sat in the seat next to Keith, and your mother sat next to Chantal. You would always drink lemonade, and your brother would drink iced tea. You never got to drink that at home, so you and your brother would make sure to share your cups. Sometimes, Matthew would drink a pop of his choice and share it with you. If it rained, the Tkachuks would go to your home, and the seating situation was the same around your dining room table.
Chantal and your mother would insist that you kids couldn't play inside at these Sunday afternoon dinners. Sometimes, your brother and the boys would play soccer and maybe let you and Taryn join. Oftentimes, though, you and Taryn would hang out together. Sometimes, Matthew would play with you and Taryn, and you'd all play family. You and Matthew would be married parents, and Taryn would be your daughter. If your brother and Brady chose to join, Taryn would be the aunt, and Brady and your brother would be the children. Taryn always joked that life should always end up that way -- you and Matthew married with Taryn as the aunt to your children. When she'd bring up the topic, your mother and Chantal would always give each other a knowing look as if they knew something you both didn't. Your dad wouldn't say anything, but Keith would pat his shoulder, again, as if they knew something you didn't. Brady and your brother would gag and tease Matthew. You and Matthew never said anything; you both were close friends, some would argue best friends, but it didn't matter. You knew that Matthew would be someone who would always be in your life. In your life, ages 5-10, you didn't understand the notion of marriage. All you knew was that you wanted Matthew to be in your life, and if it was marriage, then so be it.
Despite expecting to be sitting on that patio chair, you never expected you'd be watching Taryn, Brady, Matthew, and your brother playing while you sat there by yourself. It wasn't that they weren't including you, but they also weren't not not including you. They all decided to play your least favorite game, and you didn't want to, so you decided to sit and watch. There's more to it, though. The school year ended just the previous week, and you and Matthew graduated from elementary school and would be going to middle school. Somewhere within the past few weeks. Matthew went from being one of your closest friends to hating you. He just suddenly decided he didn't like you. You weren't sure why, but he just stopped being your friend. You told your mother you were sick so as not to have to come to the Tkachuk's today, but she said no. She saw right through your lie. You didn't know why Matthew didn't want to be your friend anymore, but it hurt. It hurt a lot. No longer were the days where you and Matthew would pretend to be a married couple. No more were the days where Matthew would share his pop with you. No more were the days where Matthew was your closest friend.
When Chantal called for dinner, you ran to the washroom to wash your hands and sat back in your usual spot. Despite knowing Matthew's recent emotions towards you, you hoped he'd still sit next to you. You watched as Taryn returned from washing her hands and began to apologize for not playing a game you liked. You told her it was okay, it was, and watched your brother take his seat across from you, as normal. You watched Brady put the toys away and go to the washroom to wash his hands. You watched as Keith and your father put the grilled chicken on the table, and Chantal and your mother set the sides on the table. Finally, Matthew emerged from the house, but what he did next confused you. He sat in Brady's usual seat.
"What are you doing, Matthew?" Brady asks when he sees where his brother is sitting. Matthew glares at you and shrugs.
"I just want to sit next here, today," Matthew says with anger in his voice. You weren't sure why he was suddenly so angry, but the look he had as he stared at you sent chills down your spine. That's when you knew. That's when you knew that Matthew hated you. He doesn't like you anymore, and you doubted he ever would You didn’t know it, then, but you now know that when Matthew opted to sit in a different seat and treat you with anger, he broke your heart.
Matthew Tkachuk broke your heart at the age of ten.
. . .
With Matthew out of the picture as a friend, you found yourself growing closer to your other friends. One friend, in particular, became your closest friend, Shelly. You and Shelly became the best of friends and stuck together through middle school, high school, and college. It was Shelly who convinced you that it would be a good idea to move to Calgary despite your hated family friend living there.
"Shelly, I don't think so," you tell her. "Actually, I know so."
"Come on, Ynn," Shelly eggs on. "Do it for me? I'm getting married! Please, can you bring a date? Actually, it's a must thing. I'm telling you that you have to bring a date. That's the only thing I need from you."
"So, the only thing I need to do as your maid of honor is to bring a date?"
"I mean, no? But, the wedding is in two months, and most of the stuff I've needed you to do has been done. Just this one thing, okay? I think you'll enjoy it much better if you have someone to hang out with. Who knows, maybe you’ll fall in love with him and marry him, and I can be your maid of honor."
"Fine," you grumble. "But, only because I love you."
You hang up the phone and groan. How were you supposed to find a date? You had a few work friends in Calgary, but you found it difficult to find a date. The one thing that annoyed you the most was that you had two months to find someone you liked and trusted enough to bring to St. Louis for a wedding. What were you going to do?
Now, a month later, you were standing outside one certain door you never thought you would with a plate of cookies, their favorite cookies, and angry that this was your last resort. You knock on the door of the apartment and await the smirk and comment you were bound to get.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't my biggest admirer, Yn Yln," Matthew says with his signature smirk. Yup, you guessed it.
"Matthew," you grumble and walk into his apartment as he welcomes you inside. "Here are some cookies."
Matthew takes the plate from you, opens it up, and bites into a cookie. "Thank you," he says with a mouthful of cookies. You grimace at the sight and remind yourself about the task at hand. "You know, when you called me, I forgot you were in Calgary. Why haven't you ever called me before to hang out?"
"You're serious?"
"Very."
"Maybe the small fact that we've hated each other since we were like ten? Or, how about that time you spilled water down my dress at our joint eighth-grade graduation party? Or, how about that time you spilled Gatorade on my English project? Or, how about that time you told everyone we were dating when you clearly know WE WEREN'T. Or, how about that time you took my car keys and hid them at the bottom of your hockey bag in the men's locker room? Would you like me to continue? I can keep going as far as you need."
"No, no, I get the point. No need to remind me," Matthew tells you. He internally cringes at his actions growing up, but he has too much pride to apologize. "Anyways, that was when we were growing up and in high school. I haven't treated you like that in ages."
Matthew knows he shouldn't have said that immediately when he sees the glare you give him. "I have a list if you'd like for me to list it out?"
"Okay, fine, message understood. You hate me, and I hate you because of it. What do you need? You called me pretty frantically."
You narrow your eyes at Matthew. "Firstly, I did not call you frantically. I called you asking if I could ask for a favor. Secondly, I only hate you because you hate me. Third, I need your help with something."
"Okay, firstly, yes you did. Second, maybe that's right. Third, just tell me."
"Can you set me up with a teammate or a friend of yours for me to take to Shelly's wedding?" you blurt out in one breath.
"What?" Matthew laughs breathlessly, not sure if he heard you right.
"I need a date for Shelly's wedding, and I need you to set me up with someone you trust, please."
"You don't have a boyfriend?"
"No," you grumble out, and Matthew laughs at you. "It's not like you have a girlfriend or anything."
"Wow, look at you. Firing shots, huh?"
"Matthew, can you or can you not set me up with someone you know and trust?"
"Sure, I'll see who I can find."
"Great, thank you," you say and make your way to leave.
"Where are you going?" Matthew asks, furrowing his eyebrows.
"Home?"
"You just came here to ask me that and leave?"
"It's not like we're friends or anything," you say blatantly. Matthew is shocked by your words and takes a visible step back. He isn't sure why your words shocked him so much because he knows you're both not friends. He knows for a fact you're both not friends but hearing you actually say it after all these years is shocking to him.
"Right, not friends. You can leave then. You can take your cookies back."
"No, no, I made them for you. I know they're your favorite. Thanks, again, Matthew."
"Sure, sure," he says as you walk out the door. He locks the door behind you and is instantly confused why he hates that you're both not friends. He knows you’re not friends. Both his and your actions over the past years have proven it, but he thought — he actually doesn't know what he thought. As the season came to an end, Matthew had another task at hand — finding someone for you to take as a date even though he knows no one he knows is good enough for you.
. . .
Matthew was sitting at the bar with his teammates sizing them all up wondering which one would be good enough for you to have as a date. There was Noah; Matthew guesses he could be okay with you with him, but Matthew knows you could do better. There was Jacob, and Matthew knew he'd treat you well. Maybe he should ask Jacob if he'd join you as a date.
"Matthew, why do you keep staring at us?" Noah asks.
"I have someone I know who needs help finding a date for a wedding this summer," Matthew explains. "This person I know asked if I could set them up with someone I know and trust."
"Do you need a guy? If so, then go with Jacob. He'll treat your friend, right," Elias says.
"Yn's not my friend," Matthew is quick to say.
"Is she someone you’re more than friends with?" Noah asks with a smirk on his face.
"No, absolutely not," Matthew says as he vehemently shakes his head. "No, we've hated each other since we were like ten."
"Why are you helping her, then?"
Matthew just stares at Noah. Why was he helping you? You both weren’t friends, as you made abundantly clear the other day. Matthew didn’t know why he was helping you. You were a long-time family friend and by far one of the most amazing people he’s ever met. But, that didn’t answer the question as to why he was helping you. You were someone amazing, yet Matthew still can’t seem to pinpoint why he was helping you. Matthew knows that if he doesn’t help you Chantal would have his head. Maybe, just maybe, it was the small, no large, crush he’s harbored for you since you were both ten. Maybe, just maybe, he truly, deep down cared about who you dated if it couldn’t be him. “I’m not sure,” Matthew deflects knowing fully why he was helping you.
“Maybe you should strike her a deal,” Mark mentions. “You find her a date for the wedding, and she finds you a date for the End-of-Year Charity Gala.”
Matthew perks his head up towards his captain. He forgot about the Gala.
“Oh no, Matthew has a smirk on his face. What’s your idea?” Noah says suspiciously.
“Nothing,” Matthew says, not losing his smirk. He has one splendid idea that he is sure to solve both your dating issues.
. . .
Matthew: I have a date for you. He’ll come over tomorrow at 5 pm with flowers, okay?
Yn: Okay, sounds good! I can’t wait to meet him.
Matthew: You’ll love him.
Matthew knows you won’t. Based on what his plan was, he knew you wouldn’t like it. He only hoped you wouldn’t slap him across the face.
. . .
The day after Matthew texted you and said when your date would show up, you were nervous. Incredibly nervous. You hoped that, for once, Matthew wouldn’t be an ass and set you up with someone nice. You were pacing around your kitchen and 4:58 pm when the doorbell rang. You stood up straight and took a deep breath. You could do this. You weren’t going to actually date the guy; you were just going to ask him to accompany you to a wedding back home and that was it. You walked over to the door and took a deep breath before opening the door.
“Matthew?” you ask in disbelief as you lock eyes with Matthew’s striking blue eyes. You give him a once-over and notice he’s wearing a white shirt, a tight shirt that fits him way too well, and black dress pants. What was with the fancy wear? You meet his eyes again, and you’re met with his eyes full of love, happiness, and worry as they stare deep into your eyes. You’ve yet to ever see this mix of emotion in Matthew’s eyes when he looks at you, and it sends a shiver down your spine. You and Matthew continue staring deeply into each other’s eyes, both not wanting to break the trance you’ve found yourself in.
“Hey, Yn,” Matthew finally says, realizing who he was looking at. He hands you the bouquet of your favorite flowers. “These are for you.”
“Oh, um, come in,” you say and usher him inside. You hate him, Yn. Stop with these emotions, you keep telling yourself. Why did he suddenly have this effect on you? Matthew walks into your apartment, takes his shoes off, and sits on a chair at your counter. “What are you doing here?”
“I’m your date,” Matthew says nervously, but you still see the love lining his eyes as you speak. You haven’t seen that look directed to you in a while.
“No, absolutely not. We hate each other, remember? Why would I suddenly bring you as a date?”
“Look, before you go crazy, just listen to what I have to say, okay?” Matthew asks softly. You nod and turn away to put the flowers in a vase. You make sure your back is to Matthew because you don’t want him to see how flustered you are by his soft tone towards you.
After placing the flowers in a vase and placing it on the coffee table, you say, “Okay, Matthew, what do you have to say?”
“You know how at the end of the season, the Flames have an End-of-Year Charity Gala?” you shake your head no, and Matthew chuckles softly, and your faith grows warm. “Well, we have one, and I need to bring a date.”
“Okay?”
“So, what if we pretend to date? Like, you come with me to the gala, and I go with you to Shelly’s wedding,” Matthew proposes nervously.
“Why would you want that, Matthew? You hate me.”
“I don’t — I couldn’t ha— you know what? It doesn’t matter. Look, you need a date, and I need a date, so why don’t we just go together and solve both our problems?”
“Matthew, I don’t know.”
“Yn, come on. What’s stopping you?”
“You hate me, Matthew,” you tell him softly, not meeting Matthew’s eyes.
Matthew sighs. He could never hate you. He never really hated you; he just had to pretend to hate you because of how he felt. When Matthew was ten, he realized that he had a crush on you. He realized he like liked you, and he didn’t know what to do about it, so he just ignored you and was mean to you. Unfortunately, over the years, Matthew couldn’t let go of those feelings, and he fell more and more for you as he watched you grow into the beautiful person you are now. Seeing you walk into this apartment with the cookies the other day, Matthew realized that he was still hopelessly in love with you. At first, Matthew thought that he could find a date for you. He could find someone who was perfect for you because everyone knows that he could never be it for you, but, as he began going through his list of friends, he realized that even they weren’t good enough for you. Matthew knew you’d never feel the same way about him, but if Matthew can have you as a fake girlfriend, then that’s what he’ll have, then. “We both don’t want to find a date for our events, so why don’t we just pretend to date, then?”
You look at Matthew and see the sincerity in his eyes. You see the longing and want for you to say yes. You’ve always loved looking into Matthew’s eyes and seeing the emotion in them. You’ve never seen this kind of emotion directed towards you. You see the longing and sadness and wishing for you to say yes; however, you also see love? You couldn’t possibly be seeing that in his eyes. Could you? “Okay,” you whisper, suddenly being overwhelmed with what you saw laced in Matthew’s eyes and facial expressions.
“Okay?” Matthew asks, confirming because he was in disbelief.
“Yeah, okay. We can fake date.”
Matthew rushes over to you and wraps you in a giant hug. “Thank you,” he whispers as he holds you tightly.
“Of course, Matthew. You had a good idea that helped us both.”
Matthew leaves shortly after with a fake girlfriend and a wide smile on his face. He only hoped that he wouldn’t fall harder for you now that he’s finally somehow got you.
. . .
Matthew came over two weeks later, one day before the Flames’ last game, to sort out the terms of your and Matthew’s fake dating ruse. You weren’t sure why you agreed to this. No one back home would believe that you and Matthew were dating. You both have hated each other for as long as you can remember. Everyone would be shocked that you and Matthew can possibly stand to be in the same room together. The fact that you moved to the same city was also a giant shock to everyone. Not a single person would believe it, but why did your heart suddenly race when you thought of you and Matthew fake dating? Why did your pulse quicken at the thought of being on Matthew’s arm at the Gala? Why did you enjoy the cheeky messages Matthew has been sending you and telling you that he was trying to “fill the role perfectly”? Why did your heart hurt when you realized it was all fake?
“I brought some takeout, is that good?” Matthew asks as he steps into your apartment. In his hands, he has a bag of food from your favorite restaurant in Calgary and another bouquet. You take the bag of food and the flowers from his hand, and Matthew goes into your cupboards to find some plates. The domesticity of the situation made your heart lurch through your chest, but you still weren’t sure why.
“That’s perfect, thanks, Matthew,” you tell him with a smile as Matthew sets the plates down on the counter. You place the flowers in another vase and put them next to the flowers Matthew brought previously that were probably ready to be tossed. “You don’t have to buy me flowers every time you come by.”
“Firstly, it’s been like two times, and secondly, let me treat you, okay? I am your boyfriend, after all, so I might as treat you as you deserve to be treated,” Matthew tells you as if he was preaching fact. He talked to you as if he didn’t hate you your entire life and only just started liking you.
“Fake boyfriend,” you correct. You want to make sure that the parameters of your relationship are clearly defined.
“You tell that to Shelly? That you and I are fake dating?” Matthew asks with a smirk.
“I told her I had a date, and I was going to tell her it was you, but she told me to surprise her on her wedding day. I’m convinced she thinks I don’t have a date,” you tell Matthew and take a bite of food. You moan in delight, and Matthew grins knowing he picked the perfect meal for you. “How did you know this was my favorite?”
Matthew shrugs, but a playful smile is a dead giveaway that he has an explanation. “I guess I just know you really well.”
“That’s ridiculous, Matthew. You do not know me at all. I’ve changed since you stopped being my friend when we were ten.”
“Hey! I did not stop being your friend. You stopped being my friend,” Matthew feigns hurt even though he knows your words are right.
“Matthew, I stopped being your friend because you stopped being friends with me.”
“That’s not how I remember it,” Matthew mumbles and opting to look down at his plate instead of at you where he’d much rather be looking.
“You stopped being my friend after we graduated from elementary school. I remember that the third Sunday dinner we had that summer was the first time you stopped sitting next to me, and I knew that you were officially not my friend anymore.”
“You sure that’s what happened, Yn? Are you sure that it wasn’t you who stopped being my friend?”
“I always sat in the same middle seat, Matthew. You opted to sit in Brady’s seat instead.”
“Fine, whatever. Agree to disagree?”
“Sure, sure, even though I’m right.”
Matthew laughs at your words and shakes his head. “How we were ever friends baffles me because we are both so stubborn.”
“That we are,” you agree, and a comfortable silence fills your kitchen as you and Matthew continue to eat.
“You know,” Matthew says breaking the silence, “I do know you better than you think.”
“As do I,” you tell him not meeting his eye. You always were quite observant of Matthew despite you two not being friends anymore. There was something about him that made you want to look at him. No, it probably wasn’t because of how gorgeous he was.
“Okay, you tell me something about myself, then.”
“What do you want me to say?”
“I don’t know, Yn; you just say something.”
“But I want you to tell me what you want me to say,” you tease.
“I’m starting to think you don’t know anything about me,” Matthew gives you his signature smirk.
“I’m starting to think the same about you.”
Matthew sighs and shakes his head. “How about we talk about our situation instead?”
“Our ruse?” you tease and quirk your eyebrows.
“Sure, our ruse,” Matthew says, not sure why you had that look on your face. “What is our story? We could just say we hooked up and realized that we liked each other.”
“As much as that story is believable, I don’t think that Shelly will believe that. Why don’t we go with something else? How about: I was lonely in the city and needed someone familiar, so I called you, and the rest just fell together.”
“I don’t think they’ll believe that,” Matthew says. As much as he loves and thinks it’s a good story, he’d very much rather have a bit more romantic and loving story, so Matthew can have the fake relationship he’d always wanted with you.
“Oh, come on, Matthew, it’s perfect!” you pout, and Matthew knows he’s going to bend for you because it’s you. He always bent to your will regardless of whether or not you knew it.
“Fine, we’ll use your story. How long have we been dating?”
“Why don’t we just keep it vague to minimize any questions? Should we say a few months now? Anything longer will be suspicious, and anything shorter would be weird. The most we can say is three to three and a half months because when I talked to Shelly about two months ago, she was under the impression I wasn’t seeing anyone.”
“Okay, fair. You know,” Matthew says with a smirk, “the fact that you’re able to throw together the perfect fake-dating story makes me think that you’ve done this before.”
You burst out laughing. “You seriously think that? I thought you knew me.”
“I do know you.”
“Then you’d know I’m a hopeless romantic, and the amount of times I’ve read fake dating romance novels is unbelievable. The only thing, though, is that our story won’t end up with us dating but with us maybe being friends.”
“Right,” Matthew says, and he looks down at his plate sadly realizing you truly didn’t feel the same way.
“I’m sorry, did I say anything wrong?” you apologize. You weren’t sure why Matthew suddenly got upset, but you thought it couldn’t have possibly been your words. How could it? You and Matthew have hated each other for years. It’d be ridiculous to think that this ruse would end in an actual relationship.
“No, not at all. Don’t worry,” Matthew sends you a soft smile, and your stomach does somersaults. “What about physical stuff?”
You glare at Matthew trying to figure out exactly what he was asking for in this fake relationship. “Explain because if you’re trying to sleep with me, it’s not happening.”
“No, Yn, of course not! That’s not what I meant!” Matthew replies shocked that you’d even bring up the notion. “No, I meant like holding hands, my arms wrapped around you, kissing and stuff like that. Things that couples do, you know?”
“Oh, yeah, um, I guess we could hold hands and touch each other to keep up the facade, but only in public.”
Matthew nods. “Only in public.”
You make moves to clear the table, but Matthew stops you and clears the table for you. “Sit, I’ll take care of it.”
“Matthew —” you begin.
“Nope, my fake girlfriend doesn’t need to clear her table, so sit down.”
“Maybe you should be my fake-boyfriend forever if you’re going to be clearing my table and stuff like this.”
“I mean if you’d like,” Matthew smirks and sends you a wink. He continues cleaning up by placing the dishes in the dishwasher and placing the leftovers in a Tupperware container and inside the fridge. You’re watching him concentrate on the task at hand, and suddenly, you’re drawn to his lips. You were drawn to the way he bit his lip in concentration and licked the bottom lip now and then. You watched the way he’d stop biting his lips and realize that you want to be the one to bite his lip. You wanted to kiss Matthew.
“Hey, um, Matthew?” you begin hesitantly.
“Mmm,” he replies looking up.
“Should we, um, kiss?” your eyes don’t meet Matthew’s, and you’re intent on staring at the tiles on the floor of your kitchen instead.
“I mean, sure, when we’re out in public. It’d be weird if we didn’t, right?”
“Right,” you nod knowingly and happy that Matthew didn’t realize the true meaning of your request. You look up and notice him watching you curiously. The sparkle in his eyes makes your face warm under his gaze, and you know that he’s figured out what you were truly thinking.
“Or,” he begins with a smirk, “we could practice now, so we know what to do when we kiss in front of people.”
“I think that’s a good idea,” you whisper, barely audible.
Matthew, being the pest he is, smirks at your words and asks you to repeat them. “I couldn’t hear you, baby. I need you to repeat it.”
“I think that we should practice kissing,” you say again, slightly louder, but Matthew’s shit-eating grin tells you that you’re going to have to repeat yourself.
“Come on, baby, I need to hear you loud and clear,” he walks over to you, and you shift in your seat to face him. You stand up, so you’re level with him (as much as you can be considering his height), and Matthew puts his hands on your waist. “This okay?” he asks, and you nod, but when he raises his eyebrows, you know you have to give him audible consent.
“Yes, Matthew, and I think that you should kiss me,” you tell him loud and clear. Matthew’s grin widens, and he dips his head towards yours. You put your hands around his neck, and he pulls you closer to him.
“This okay?” he asks with concern lacing his features. He didn’t want to overstep any boundaries with you.
“More than okay,” you reply and lean towards him. Matthew dips his head towards yours and places his lips softly on yours. He planned on pulling back and that being the end of the kiss, but his instincts and strong desire to kiss you stopped him. Matthew’s hands leave your waist and cup your face. He holds you forcefully but also gently. You both deepen the kiss, and your mouth separates as Matthew works his mouth against yours. Your tongue swipes against his bottom lip begging to meet his. Matthew puts his hands back on your waist and pulls you close and flush against his body. There’s no space between the two of you, not a single inch of air. You both pull away after the kiss crossed the line between what your relationship truly was. You both pull away but your heads are still close to each other. You’re looking into Matthew’s blue eyes that are laced with longing and desire. You watch Matthew’s eyes glance down to your lips as you long for his lips to be on yours again.
“We have the practice, now,” Matthew says in a deep voice, almost huskily.
“That we do,” you reply softly.
“I didn’t hurt you, right?”
“Absolutely not, Matthew. I would have slapped you if you stepped out of line,” you tell him, and Matthew’s deep chuckle sends the butterflies erupting in your stomach. You take a step back from Matthew and sit back in your chair. “Maybe if we kiss in front of people, it shouldn’t be that deep and passionate.”
“Yeah, maybe not,” Matthew tells you. He loved kissing you. Now that he’s kissed you, he doesn’t want to kiss anyone else. He wants to keep kissing you for as long as you would possibly let him. “Oh, that reminds me.”
“Mmhm?”
“I may or may not have let the cat slip out of the bag that I had a girlfriend, and now the team is expecting you to be at the last game tomorrow and our celebration.”
“Matthew!”
“I know, I know, I wasn’t supposed to. I didn’t mean to, it just slipped out!”
“How does it just slip out?”
“Some people asked if I had a date for the Gala, and I said I was bringing my girlfriend.”
“So, I have to go to the game tomorrow?”
“Please?” Matthew pouts. “I’ll owe you big time.”
“You already owe me big time,” you point out.
“Fine, just come to the game tomorrow? You don’t have to wear my jersey or anything, just come?”
“I’ll be there, and if you give me a jersey, I’ll wear it, okay? Or, I can just wear Brady’s.”
“No, never. Wait, why do you have Brady’s jersey and not mine?”
“Doesn’t matter.”
“Sure, I have to go, but I’ll see you tomorrow?” Matthew asks as he walks over to the door. You walk with him and unlock the door.
“See you tomorrow, fake boyfriend,” you tell him and place a kiss on his cheek.
“Tomorrow, fake girlfriend,” Matthew says and walks out the door. When the door is closed, he places his hands on his cheek where you kissed him. He touches his lips softly remembering how you kissed him just recently. Just remembering your mouth being anywhere near his face made him melt. Matthew was digging himself into a hole he only hoped he’d be able to escape from.
. . .
You walked up to the Friends & Family box still trying to recover from Matthew kissing you barely twenty-four hours prior. You didn’t have Matthew’s jersey to wear, so you opted for a red shirt with jeans and a leather jacket. You’ve also never met anyone on the team before, so you were scared as to what they would say.
You stepped into the box and were instantly overwhelmed with what you saw. All the other wives and girlfriends and children were mingling around, and you felt out of place. One of the WAGs walked over to you, and said, “You must be Yn, Matthew’s girlfriend.”
You nodded, “Yeah, that would be me.”
“I’m Annica, Elias’s girlfriend. Don’t worry about being nervous or whatever, Matthew is crazy about you, so we’re automatically crazy about you, too! Everyone, this is Yn, Matthew’s girlfriend.”
You stood there as everyone introduced themselves, and you maybe remembered two of those names.
“Matthew left you a jersey because he knew you didn’t have one,” Lauren, Mark’s wife, tells you. She hands you the jersey, and you look at it. Were you supposed to put it on? “You can just put it on over your shirt and leave your jacket on a chair.”
You nod. You put on the jersey and look down at the number on your sleeve. You smiled. You liked the way it looked on you.
Watching the game with the other girls was interesting and exciting. You chatted with the other women and played with the children. It was exhilarating to be in the Saddledome during a game, especially the last of the season. You haven’t been to a game in Calgary despite living there. Every time the Tkachuks came to town, you always told them you couldn’t go to the game. It didn’t feel right, but now that you’ve been to a game, you wanted to keep coming to the games. The Flames ended up coming out on top to celebrate their final game, and the arena was loud and bursting with happiness. You followed behind as everyone walked to outside the locker rooms to wait for the team. You stood awkwardly, not sure what to do. You played with your jacket in your hand just as Matthew walked out. He spotted you instantly, and his heart lurched through his chest as he saw you in his jersey. His eyes widened at seeing his number on your arm, and if possible, he fell more in love with you.
“Hey,” he says as he walks over. You look up and give him a wide smile.
“Hi,” you tell him and pull your fake boyfriend into a large hug as you whisper in his ear, “you played amazing.”
Your words send shivers down Matthew’s spine, and he holds you tightly. “Thank you.”
You both pull away and notice some of Matthew’s teammates and significant others greeting each other with congratulatory kisses. Were you both supposed to kiss? “Should we kiss, Matthew?” you whisper.
“What?” he whispers back, not sure if he heard you properly.
“You heard me, should we kiss? Everyone else is.”
“Do you want me to kiss you?”
“Would it be awkward if we didn’t?”
“I’m going to kiss you, okay?” Matthew doesn’t wait for your response as he hungrily leans down and kisses you. Despite kissing you yesterday, Matthew was waiting earnestly for the day he’d get to kiss you again. It wasn’t as passionate as the night before, but somehow, it was even more intimate despite being in public. You both full away flushed with the kiss, and Matthew’s teammates holler around you both. “Oh, shut up.”
Matthew leads you to his car and holds your hand. “Did you want to come to celebrate with us?” he leans down to whisper in your ear.
“I thought that was part of this,” you tell him.
“Yeah, but not everyone is going out, so if you don’t want to, we can just head to my place.”
“We can go to your place, then.”
“Okay,” Matthew says to you and opens the car door for you. He closes the door and heads towards the driver’s side. When he gets in, he asks, “How did you get here if I’m driving you home?”
“Oh, I walked because I don’t work too far from here,” you explain, and Matthew whips his heat towards you. “What?”
“You walked? Do you not have a car?” he asks as if the notion were beyond him.
“Yeah, it was like ten minutes.”
“If you didn’t have a ride or something, I would have sent someone to pick you up.”
“I walk to work, Matthew.”
“You walk? No, from now on, I will be driving you to work and wherever you need to be.”
You giggle to yourself softly. “I have a car, but I just walk to work because it’s only five minutes.”
“No, I refuse to let you walk to work.”
“Matthew,” you say gently and place your hand on his thigh. “I’m fine, I promise, okay?”
Matthew looks at the soft look in your eyes and the anger he has dissipated. “Okay, but if you ever need a ride somewhere, please just let me know, and I’ll drive you, okay?”
“Okay, but I do have a car, you know,” you tell him, and Matthew starts the car and heads towards his apartment. Why was Matthew so concerned and angry about the fact that you don’t drive to work? You ponder the thought and are so deep in trying to figure it out that you don’t realize that you’ve reached Matthew’s apartment until he tells you so.
“You okay?” Matthew asks as you’re standing in the elevator.
“Yeah, I’m fine, why?”
“Not sure, you seem kind of spaced out.”
“Oh, no, I’m okay.”
“Promise?” Matthew asks.
“Promise,” you reply with a smile.
You and Matthew walk into his apartment, and your breath is taken away by the view of Matthew’s apartment. You take your shoes off and just stand there staring. You drop your purse and bag on the floor and walk over to the window in a trance.
“Yn, you good?” Matthew asks, confused about your actions.
“It’s just so pretty, Matthew,” you say and reach for your phone in your back pocket and take a photo. Matthew can’t help but smile at your actions. Sure, the view was pretty to him, but he saw it each day, so it wasn’t as special to him. Watching you take in the view, though, gave Matthew a new insight into how pretty the view truly was. Maybe, just maybe, Matthew was staring at you, looking beautiful with the dim lighting of his living room and wearing his jersey, instead of the view, but it didn’t matter. It was beautiful, and if he was talking about you? Then, so be it!
“I’m just going to get changed real quick, okay?” Matthew asks. He didn’t want to leave you standing there alone, but he knows he won’t be comfortable in his suit. “I can stay if you want.”
You giggle to yourself. “I can take care of myself, you know.”
“Yeah, I know, but —”
“Go,” you push Matthew in the direction of his room. “I’ll be fine.” Matthew looks behind him once more to you; you give him a pointed look, and Matthew walks to his room to change.
You settle yourself on the couch and sit there staring at the TV stand. On it are sitting picture frames with photos of Matthew’s family and friends. One photo, in particular, stands out to you. You get up and walk to the photo and smile at it. You pick it up and stare at it. It was a photo of Brady, Taryn, Matthew, your brother, and you. You don’t remember the photo being taken but it was around when you were six or seven. You were sitting at the table in Tkachuk's backyard before dinner. Matthew was sitting on your right, as he should, and with Taryn on your left.
“Find anything interesting?” Matthew asks as he walks out. He walks over to you and rests an arm around your shoulder.
“I’m surprised you have a photo of me sitting here,” you tell him and look at him.
“Why?” Matthew furrows his eyebrows in confusion.
“I just, I don’t know.”
Matthew walks over to the couch and sits. You place the photo back on the stand and join him. You sit next to him on your right, and Matthew, again, rests an arm around your shoulder. “I have photos of the important people in my life.”
Matthew turns on the TV and begins flipping through Netflix. He selects one of your favorite movies, and you’re surprised he knows it, but then again, Matthew seems to know more about you than you realized.
As the movie continues, you and Matthew move closer and closer together to the point where you’re cuddled into him and your head moves in sync with Matthew’s breathing. The warmth that Matthew’s body exudes and the pattern of his breaths put you to sleep. When Matthew notices you’ve fallen asleep, he doesn’t want to wake you, so he tightens his hold on you and grabs the blanket that was sitting over the couch (he silently thanks his mom for making him put it there), and he places it on you. He softly kisses your forehead with a soft, ”goodnight, Yn.”
. . .
The next morning, after you’ve woken up, eaten breakfast that Matthew made for you, and left for the day, Matthew was on his way to the Saddledome for the exit interviews of the season. It didn’t end the way the team wanted, but they fought tooth and nail until the last game, and they should be proud of that.
As Matthew walks into the locker room, he has a soft smile on his face of pure bliss.
“So, what did you and Yn do last night?” Noah teases when he sees his teammate. “You’re never one to turn down a night out.”
“I didn’t go out because Yn didn’t want to. I think she was overwhelmed with meeting everyone, and I just wanted her to be comfortable.”
“Wow, Matthew, look at you maturing for the better,” Mark teases. He was waiting for the day that Matthew would meet a girl and act this way for her.
“Whatever,” Matthew rolls his eyes.
“Matthew’s in looooove,” someone teases and everyone else laughs in response. Matthew, again, just rolls his eyes in response. He had no other response.
Matthew only wishes that the person he was in love with was him, too.
. . .
You’re standing outside Matthew’s apartment door with your dress in your hand with a bag of the things you needed to get ready over your shoulder. You took a deep breath. You weren’t sure why you were so nervous, but you were. You were about to ring the doorbell, but Matthew opened the door first.
“How did you know I was here?” you ask as you walk into his apartment.
“I mean, I had to buzz you into the building, so I was waiting for you,” Matthew says as if it were obvious.
“Oh.”
“You can shower first. I probably take less time than you to get ready, so you can shower first.”
You nod. “Okay, can I hang up my dress in your closet?”
“Yeah, of course. What color is it? I probably should have asked before, so that we could match.”
You smile. “It’s a lavender color. I doubt you own anything lavender.”
“My mom bought me a lavender dress shirt for Christmas, so, yes, I do own something lavender.”
You giggle to yourself softly and head into his bedroom to hand up your dress. You walk into his washroom and set your things there. “Thank you, Matthew.”
“No need to thank me,” he tells you. “I left you towels and stuff. Just let me know when I can shower, okay?”
You nod. You’re not sure why you’re suddenly at a loss for words. What was it with Matthew?
After you showered, Matthew told you that, if you were comfortable, you could use the washroom as he showered. You told him it was fine and began styling your hair just as Matthew was showering. You were halfway done when you heard Matthew turn off the water. You watch him from the corner of your eye as he grabs the towel from behind the shower curtain. You try to calm your breathing as you watch Matthew step out of the shower with the towel wrapped low on his hips and his broad shoulders and chest lined with water droplets. He stands next to you and begins to moisturize his face. You feel your face warm as you stand next to him.
Matthew walks out of the washroom, but he stops at the door and turns to you. “I’ll get ready in my bedroom, and you can get ready here. Just let me know when you’re ready, and I’ll let you change in the bedroom.”
“Thanks, Matthew.”
“Sure,” he says and takes one step out of the washroom before stopping again. “Hey, yn?”
“Yes?” you turn to him.
“Your hair looks really pretty.”
“I haven’t finished, yet,” you point out.
“Fine, but I know for a fact that you’re going to look so incredibly beautiful.”
. . .
You put on your shoes and look at yourself once more in the mirror. You observe the way you look and take a deep breath. You take your steps out of the bedroom, and Matthew stands when he hears the clack of your heels. Matthew takes a deep breath, getting ready to see how beautiful you will undoubtedly look.
“Hey,” you say and stand in front of Matthew. You smile, and your breath stops when you see Matthew. He’s wearing a lavender shirt that matches your dress with a black tie, jacket, and pants. His clothes fit him perfectly, and it displays his body just the way clothes should.
“Hey,” he replies, and his breath stops, too. You were beautiful. The lavender gown hung on your body perfectly, and it accentuated each and every curve of your body perfectly. The color brought out your eyes, and they shone in the light. The dim light of Matthew’s apartment reflected off the design and details of your dress that Matthew knew he was going to be speechless when the light of the ballroom truly lit you up. “You’re beautiful, Yn. Gorgeous, yn!”
“Thank you,” you say bashfully and walk over to your fake boyfriend. You place your hands on his chest and straighten his tie. “You look amazing, too, Matthew.”
Matthew’s breath is shallow as you run your hands on his chest. His heart is beating through his chest, and he knows that he’s going to have to use all his energy and brainpower not to stare at you the entire night. You stop and rest your hands on his chest. “Ready to go?” you ask.
Matthew audibly swallows at your touch. “Yeah,” he says in a low voice. He takes your hand and leads you towards the door. “Did you want to put your stuff in your car and drive home, or do you want to just stay the night and drive home in the morning?”
“Can I stay the night?”
“Yeah, yeah, of course,” Matthew won’t admit it, but he wanted you to stay the night.
As Matthew drives to the location of the Gala, he continues taking peeks at you. He isn’t sure what he’s done to get someone as beautiful as you as his date, but he’s thanking any and every higher being for blessing him with you.
Throughout the entire night, Matthew has to force himself to leave you for moments every now and then to do his job. It was difficult. He wanted to be right by your side and show the world how lucky he got to be right next to you. You were the star, and Matthew was one of your many admirers. When Matthew wasn’t talking to donors and was right next to you, he found it difficult to speak. When you’d ask a question or make a comment, Matthew would take a few seconds to reply because of you. Your laughter, your smile, and your perfume were intoxicating, and Matthew wasn’t sure how he would make it through the rest of the night.
Annica wanted to grab another drink from the bar, so you went with her. Matthew, reluctantly, removed his hand from the small of your back and watched you lovingly as you went off with Annica. When he lost sight of you, Matthew finally turned his attention back to the group at the table.
“Yeah, you’re definitely not whipped for her and in love with her,” Elias says.
“Matthew not in love, who?” Noah jokes.
“Oh, shut up,” Matthew says. It didn’t matter if he was in love with you because you weren’t in love with him.
“Look, the minute Yn comes back, Matthew is going to put a hand on her, either on her shoulder or on her back, smile down at her, and pull her close to him. I guarantee it,” Jacob says. He was watching the two of you interact the entire night, and he knows that this will happen as it happened every time you and Matthew got separated.
“I see your point, and I raise you with this: he’s going to lean down and kiss Yn on the forehead,” Johnny adds.
“I see both your points, and I raise you with this: Matthew’s going to look at Yn, and she’s going to look at him, and they will both smile widely at each other,” Elias points out.
“Are you guys betting again?” Mark asks as he settles himself at the table as he’s making his rounds.
“Kind of. We’re trying to figure out how Yn and Matthew are going to act when she returns,” Noah explains.
“Oh, drop the subject,” Matthew says, annoyed.
“I’m not sure what has been said, but I guess that Matthew will be so enthralled by his date that everything in the world will fade away,” Mark says, “because that’s what a person in love does.”
“Look, I’m not in love with Yn, okay? Can we just drop the subject before Yn and Annica return?” Matthew replies exasperatedly.
Everyone agrees, but they all know that they will be monitoring your and Matthew’s actions when you return. Just a few moments later, you and Annica are returning to the table with a refill of drinks. You settle in next to Matthew and place a glass of wine down for you and a glass of beer for him.
“You were empty, so I got you a refill,” you tell him.
“Thank you,” he says to you and places a hand on the small of your back where it was before you left. You lean in further to him, and Matthew smiles down at you as you engage in conversation with Mark. Matthew places a soft kiss on your forehead, and you look up and smile at Matthew who smiles back at you. Elias mentions Matthew’s name, but Matthew is too soaked up in your presence to notice. The group is shocked. Every single one of them guessed correctly what Matthew would do when you returned.
“Well, if you’ll excuse me,” Mark begins, “I’m going to go ask the Mrs. for a dance.”
Elias and Annica leave, too, and head to the dance floor. You stand there awkwardly wondering if you and Matthew should dance. Matthew leans his head towards yours and whispers, “Do you want to dance, Yn?”
You look at Matthew and nod with a smile. Matthew takes your hand and leads you to the dance floor. He takes one hand in his and the other rests on the bare skin of your upper back. You place your other hand not in Matthew’s on his shoulder and move close to him. You both sway to the music that’s playing. As you both continue to dance, Matthew’s hand draws soft patterns on your skin sending electric shocks through your body. As the song comes to an end, the bubble you and Matthew found yourself in slowly pops, and you return to reality. It didn’t matter how special dancing with each other was, you were both not truly dating. You were living a lie, and you knew it would hurt when, one day, the ruse was over. You only hoped that you could salvage your feelings and not hurt your heart too much. You weren’t sure, though, what you were trying to save your heart from.
. . .
“Ready to head home?” Matthew whispers into your ear as you’re talking with some of the WAGs. You nod and say goodbye to the ladies. Matthew wraps his suit jacket around your shoulders as he notices you’re cold and takes your hand in his. “Thank you for being my date.”
You smile. “Thank you for taking me. I had a lot of fun.”
“I had a lot of fun with the beautiful person as my date.”
“Oh, beautiful person? Who may they be?” you tease.
“They’re you, of course. The most beautiful of people.”
“You flatter me, Matthew.”
“You deserve all the compliments in the world, Yn,” Matthew squeezes your hand and opens the car door for you. You smile in gratitude as he closes the door and heads to the driver's side. You smile in happiness at the evening you had. Matthew intertwines his hand with yours as he drives. With the late hour and the comfort of Matthew’s hand, you feel your eyes drift closed. You didn’t mean to fall asleep, but you did.
“Yn? You have to wake up; we’re back at my apartment, now,” Matthew says softly as he strokes your face softly to wake you.
You slowly open your eyes, and your lips quirk up at the sound of Matthew’s soft voice. You nod and move to get out of the car.
“No, no, I’ll get the door for you,” Matthew interrupts. You’re too tired to argue, so you just let Matthew rush out of the car to open the door for you. Matthew leads you back to his apartment and ushers you into his bedroom. “You can sleep here, and I’ll take the guest room.”
“No, Matthew, I’ll take the guest room,” you interject.
“No, Yn. You did me the biggest favor by coming as my date tonight, so you can take my bed.”
“Matthew —” you were going to point out that you were taking him to Shelly’s wedding, but he wasn’t going to change his mind.
“Yn, just take the bed, okay? You can grab a shirt and sweatpants to wear to bed.”
You nod, and Matthew walks out of the room with clothes for himself. He closes the door quietly behind him as he heads to the guest room. His one wish was that he was sleeping in that bed with you instead of you there alone.
. . .
“Yn, come on, we have to go,” Matthew says, standing in your kitchen and waiting for you to be ready to leave.
“Just give me a moment. We’ve got quite a bit of time, still.”
“You know, you’re the one who told me I had to be here at exactly this time, Yn, so you should be ready to go.”
You walk out of your bedroom lugging your suitcase and purse. Matthew rushes over to you and takes your suitcase out of your hand. In the process, Matthew’s hand brushes over yours, and you hear your heartbeat in your ears as the heat rushes to your face. “Let me just make sure that all the windows are closed and that I unplugged everything.”
When you return and are completely ready to go, you lock the door to your apartment and head to Matthew’s car. He opens the trunk to place your suitcase in, and as usual, Matthew opens the car door for you.
“You know, you don’t have to always open the car door for me, right?” you tell him.
“Just doing what any boyfriend would,” Matthew points out. “Fake or not.”
“Right,” you say. It’s been a while since you or he pointed out the fakeness of your relationship, and you almost forgot. Almost. Matthew turns to you and opens his mouth to say something, but he isn’t sure how to put his thoughts into words. How is he supposed to ask if you’re upset that he pointed out that you were both fake dating despite that being the obvious title between you two? You reach to turn on some music to try to ease the awkwardness in the car. You put on Taylor Swift, and Matthew groans in response.
“You know the way Taryn and I were growing up; I can’t believe you’re shocked.”
“I thought you’d show me some mercy, you know as your boyfriend?”
“I show zero mercy.”
. . .
Going through checking in and security was a breeze. You got on the plane fine just, but the nerves immediately hit as the pilot announced that the doors were closing. Your leg begins to bounce up and down, and you begin to fiddle with your fingers. Matthew glances down at you and notices your nerves.
“You’ve been on a plane before, right?” he whispers.
You nod. “Just scary sometimes.”
He nods and places his hand on your thigh causing it to stop bouncing. You feel all your nerves suddenly dissipate. “I’m here, okay? Don’t worry.”
“Okay,” you whisper back. Matthew lifts the armrest between you both and scoots closer to you. He pulls you into his side, so you’re leaning against him. You rest your head on his shoulder, and Matthew takes your hand in his.
“It’s not a long flight. You’ll be okay.”
. . .
“Hey, you have to wake up,” Matthew whispers as he strokes your head softly. Your eyes flutter open. You didn’t realize you fell asleep on Matthew during the flight. “Sleep well?”
“Yeah,” you yawn.
Matthew smiles softly at you. “You slept through the flight, so that’s good.”
“Oh, we landed?”
He chuckles. “Yeah, let’s get off this plane, what do you say?”
You grab your purse from under the seat in front of you, and Matthew grabs his carry-on from the overhead bin. He packed significantly more than you because he wasn’t flying home with you. Matthew would be staying in St. Louis until he flies back to Calgary for training camp.
Matthew extends his hand for you, and you take it. He walks into the aisle first with one hand holding his bag and the other behind him holding your hand. You both exit the plane and head towards customs and baggage claims.
You take a deep breath once you’re in line for customs. You knew this day would come, but you didn’t realize the nerves that would come with it. Would you be able to survive this week with Matthew?
. . .
“You go in first and get us settled; I’ll pay for the taxi,” you tell Matthew when your taxi pulls up to the hotel.
“Nope, you go in; I pay,” Matthew counters.
“Matthew —”
“I am your boyfriend, no? Just let me do this.”
“Okay,” you relent softly and head into the hotel with your luggage in tow. You head to the check-in desk. There isn’t a line, and you get your room information and key quickly. You meet Matthew at where he’s standing and lead him towards the elevator door. You both wait for the elevator in silence and walk inside in the same silence. You lead him towards your eighth-floor room and walk inside. “I made sure to request two beds, so we don’t have to share.”
“Smart,” Matthew says. You unlock the door and walk inside. You groan when you see the layout of the room and what it contains — one bed.
“Oh,” you mumble. “Only one bed.”
“What? Oh,” Matthew says as he stands next to you.
“Let me call down and see if they have another room for us.”
Matthew nods. He was frozen solid at the thought of sleeping next to you. He watches as you walk over to the phone and call down to the front desk. You tell them your issue, and Matthew watches as you furrow your eyebrows in frustration. You end the call with a “thank you, it’s no problem” and look to Matthew.
“What’s the verdict?” Matthew asks.
“They have three wedding parties staying here and no extra room with two beds for us.”
“I can sleep on the floor,” Matthew suggests.
You shake your head. “We’re both adults. I’m sure we can sleep in the same bed without any issues arising.”
“Yeah, you’re right,” Matthew breathes out. His throat is dry and the words are barely forming on his tongue. You nod towards Matthew and begin unpacking. You hang up your dresses in the closet and line your shoes against the wall.
“Make sure you hang up your suit, so it doesn’t get wrinkly,” you remind Matthew as you head to the washroom to unpack your toiletries. Matthew nods and does what you say. He isn’t sure why he’s suddenly so nervous and clammy, but he figures it’s because you are both going to be sleeping in the same bed. You both move in sync with each other as you settle into the hotel room. Once Matthew has finished, he settles on the couch and turns the TV on. You awkwardly get on the couch, and Matthew chuckles at you.
It would be a restful night, right?
. . .
After meeting with the rest of the bridal party and making sure everything was perfect for the rehearsal the next day and the wedding the day after, you head into your hotel room and see Matthew sitting on the bed.
“Hey,” you say as you get ready to shower.
“How were your preparations?” he asks.
“Not bad. I’m tired, but it’s all worth it if Shelly gets the wedding of her dreams.”
Matthew nods.
“I’m going to take a shower and then go to bed; if that’s okay?”
“That’s perfectly fine,” Matthew replies as you head to the washroom to shower. While in the shower, you did everything in your power to prolong your time there because you knew that when you finished, you’d be going to sleep. You’d be going to be sleeping in the same bed as Matthew.
Once you’ve showered and gotten ready for the night, you walk out of the washroom and see Matthew standing next to the bed.
“I pulled out the blankets and stuff when I heard the tap turn off,” Matthew bashfully tells you when you notice the bed. “I figured you’re tired and stuff, so I was trying to help.”
You smile softly at the man. “Thank you, Matthew.”
He nods at your words. “What do we do now? Should we call down for more pillows and make, like, a pillow wall?”
“Um, I don’t think we have to do that. It’s big enough where we probably won’t get in each other’s way.”
“Yeah, probably,” Matthew lies. He isn’t sure if now is the right time to mention he’s an active sleeper and moves around a lot. “You can get in first.”
“Okay,” you say and move towards the bed. You get under the covers and sigh at the comfort of the bed. You lay on your back, a position that isn’t the most comfortable for you. When you’re done, Matthew gets under the covers, and he, too, lays on his back. You don’t think it’s the most comfortable for him, either. You lean over to turn the lights off, so the entire room is cascaded in darkness. “Good night, Matthew.”
“Night, Yn.”
You both lay there in awkward silence and stare up at the ceiling. What were you supposed to do? Were you supposed to talk to each other until the other fell asleep? Was it okay to face each other as you slept? What happened if you woke up in a compromising position? Would your friendship (was this a friendship?) be awkward? What would the morning be like? How awkward would it be? Should you be thinking about the fact that Matthew wasn’t wearing a shirt next to you? No, you shouldn’t be, but here you are thinking about Matthew’s bare chest.
You took a deep breath and hoped for sleep to easily overcome you.
Thankfully, it did. You fell asleep, and when your alarm went off, you were surprised you slept through the night. It was one of the best nights of sleep of your life. The pillows and blankets exuded this comfort and warmth that cocooned you and made it easy to fall asleep. When you opened your eyes, you were shocked by the sight in front of you. You blinked your eyes to make sure you weren’t still dreaming. Nope, you definitely weren’t dreaming.
Matthew Tkachuk, your fake boyfriend and boy who has hated you since you were ten, was cuddling you into his chest. Not only that, his arms were wound tightly around your waist with your forehead comfortably on his chest. Both of your legs were intertwined with each other, and your arms were grasping his waist. No wonder you slept so well.
“Oh, good morning,” Matthew says quietly. You look up at him and notice that it looks like he’s been up for a little bit.
“How long have you been awake?” you ask.
“Wow, no good morning? I’m hurt,” Matthew pouts.
“Good morning, Matthew; how long have you been awake?”
“About half an hour?”
“And you didn’t wake me knowing we were sleeping like this?” you say annoyed and slowly pull away. Once you’re fully out of his grasp, you wish you remained in his grasp. Matthew’s body exuded this comfort and warmth that made you happy and comfortable. You wished you could return to Matthew’s hold and embrace without it seeming weird.
“You were very comfortable, it looked like, and you seemed to be sleeping peacefully, and I figured you’d be more upset if I woke you, so I didn’t. Are you upset that I didn’t wake you?”
You ponder over his last question for a moment. No, you weren’t upset that he woke you. “No, it’s okay. I just slightly overreacted.”
“No need to apologize. You reacted just fine.”
You nod. “I have to get ready for wedding stuff, but we can go down to get breakfast together.”
“Yes, whatever you say,” Matthew replies and watches you get out of bed and towards your suitcase and washroom. Matthew wouldn’t admit it to anyone, but he was up for hours. He got up hours before because he was warm and needed to turn the AC up higher, but when he realized the situation you were both in, Matthew refused to get up. When else would Matthew be able to hold the person he’s been in love with his entire life who doesn’t love him back?
. . .
“You have the rehearsal tonight, right?” Matthew asks from outside the washroom as you’re doing your makeup. He walks over to the dresser and begins looking at the jewelry you’ve laid across it.
“Yeah, sorry that I can’t bring you. It’s a small thing with just Shelly’s family and bridal party. That means, though, that our big fake dating debut will be tomorrow at the reception,” you say from the washroom. “What are you going to do?”
“I’m having dinner with my parents at a restaurant around the corner. I know you said that you have a ride to and from where you have to be, but if you need a ride, just call me, okay?”
You smile to yourself from the washroom where Matthew can’t see you. There was something about his concern that made you smile like crazy. “Okay, Matthew. Thank you.”
“No need to thank me,” he begins. “I am your boyfriend after all.” He mutters under his breath the word “fake” with a scowl. He hated being just your fake boyfriend.
You begin to pack your things back into your toiletries bag so as not to leave a mess, and you walk out of the washroom. “How do I look?” you ask when you’re in full view of Matthew. He immediately looks up from where he was staring at your necklace, and his jaw drops.
“Wow, you — I, wow! You’re gorgeous, Yn,” Matthew says with wonder and awe in his eyes. You take your hands and place them on the hem of your skirt and look down. Matthew walks over to you and takes one of your hands and twirls you. You giggle in response, and Matthew catches you with his hands on your waist. “You’re beautiful, Yn.”
“Thank you,” you whisper. Matthew places a soft kiss on your forehead and takes a step back to admire you.
“I get to be your date tomorrow? Aren’t I the luckiest guy on the planet?”
You giggle again and make your way to the dresser to put on the necklace sitting there. It’s a matching necklace you and Shelly both bought at the age of 18. “Can you help me put it on?”
Matthew’s Adam’s apple bobs in his throat as he soaks you in and your request. He nods and takes the necklace gently from you. You turn around, so your back is to him, and Matthew places the necklace around your neck. He fiddles with the clasp and whispers a soft “there you go” when he’s finished. You turn around and look into his eyes.
“Thank you, Matthew,” you say nervously but hide it with a smile. You’re not sure why you’re nervous, but you suddenly are. Maybe it was the intimacy of the act Matthew just performed for you. “Have fun with your family tonight.”
“Have fun at the rehearsal! Text me when you’re on your way back, okay?”
“Okay,” you reply as you slip on your shoes and make your way towards the door. “Night, Matthew.”
You walk out the door before Matthew could respond. “Night,” he says even though it’s pointless. In his head, Matthew is replaying the vision of you walking out in your blush pink dress and how beautiful you looked. Matthew knows that whoever gets to be the one to call you their girlfriend will be the luckiest person in the world. He only wishes he were the one.
. . .
Matthew walks into the restaurant his family picked, still reeling from how beautiful you looked. It was at that moment when Matthew saw you when he realized he was truly gone. Matthew has dug himself into a hole that he knows he’s never going to get out of. Now that Matthew has experienced you as a date, in his arms in his apartment, at one of his games, kissing you, and sleeping next to you, Matthew knows that no one else will compare to you. He knows that when this ruse is over, he will be heartbroken beyond repair. Is he choosing to do something about it? Nope, not at all because to him, if he can have even a little bit of you, even if it’s under the guise of being fake, then he’ll take it.
He sits at the table his parents and siblings were already at and greets them. It’s not even two seconds after he sits before they all corner him about dating you.
“So, you and Yn, huh?” Brady smirks.
“Don’t start, please,” Matthew warns.
“I’ll start, then,” Taryn prompts. “I can’t believe you finally got Yn to date you after you’ve harbored a crush on her for all these years and hated her.”
“Can we not?” Matthew asks.
“Nope, not happening, we are going to question you about every single detail. Who knows, maybe you two will be the next ones to get married.”
“Okay, Taryn, take a step back,” Keith chuckles.
“I think you should take a step forward,” Brady prompts. “Considering how head over heels Matthew has been, Taryn’s right.”
Matthew just rolls his eyes and sighs. “Can we just order and have a normal meal, please?”
“This conversation isn’t over yet,” Taryn warns, and Matthew just rolls his eyes.
After deciding what to eat and ordering, Taryn was true to her word and began to question Matthew about his dating life. “How did it start? What was your first date like? Did Yn slap you when you first asked her out? I need details, Matthew!”
“Did you ever consider that Yn and I want privacy about our relationship?” Matthew snaps.
“Right, but this is the weirdest pairing ever, so I feel like I should get something out of you,” Taryn defends herself.
“There isn’t much to say. A few months back, Yn called me saying she needed a familiar face because she was homesick, so we met up. We realized that we liked each other and here we are.”
Chantal gives her son a curious look. That was the exact statement and explanation that you gave her when she called you a few weeks after she found out about you and Matthew. Either that was the reality of the situation or you both practiced this many times. Chantal thinks it’s probably the latter because she knows her son. She knows that if you and Matthew were for real, then he’d be telling everyone how much he liked you.
“That’s it? I thought there’d be more! Something more romantic or something,” Taryn pouts, and Matthew just shrugs. He wishes he could have made a more romantic story for how you both started dating because that’s what you deserve, but you wouldn’t have any of it.
“I agree with Taryn,” Brady adds. “Yn, as we know, is a hopeless romantic. I’m surprised you haven’t stepped up your game to match Yn’s romantic side.”
“Look, maybe we do have a romantic relationship, but we just want to keep it private,” Matthew growls.
“Alright, let’s just let the topic go,” Chantal interjects and inserts an out for Matthew. “Will you be sitting with us tomorrow?”
“During the ceremony, probably because Yn is part of the procession and all that. I’m not sure during the reception, though, because I think it’s open seating.”
“Okay, that’s understandable,” Chantal says just as their meals arrive. Matthew lets out a sigh of relief. He was able to keep the story about your ruse straight and evade any questions that could poke holes into the story. He could only wish that what was happening between you two was real.
. . .
Just as Matthew was getting interrogated by his family, your brother and Shelly were on their way to interrogate you. It was after the rehearsal, and everyone in attendance was at the restaurant catching up. Your brother walks over to you and whispers that Shelly wants to talk to you. Being the maid of honor, you figured that she needed help with last-minute wedding preparations. You weren’t expecting an ambush.
Your brother leads you to where Shelly’s sitting, and you expect him to leave. However, when he sits right next to you with Shelly across from you, you know that you’re getting interrogated.
“Don’t you have to go be with your pregnant wife?” you ask your brother pointedly hoping to get out of the conversation.
“No, she wants this information as much as I do,” he retorts.
“You and Tkachuk?” Shelly shrieks. Some of the other guests turn to the commotion but turn away when they see it’s only the bride getting excited about something. “I always knew he had the hots for you, but I wasn’t sure if he’d ever do anything about it. Wow, I’m impressed it didn’t take more time for it to happen.”
“What are you talking about?” Matthew never had the hots for you. This situation was purely platonic and aiding each other's social calendars.
“Oh, come on,” Shelly rolls her eyes. “You have to have known that Matthew was crazy in love with you in high school.”
“And that explains his treatment of me?”
“It’s what insecure guys do when they crush on someone who is way out of their league,” your brother explains. “For what it’s worth, you are way out of Matthew’s league, and the only reason that I haven’t confronted him is that I know him. But still, Matthew? Why him?”
“How did it start? Is he a good kisser? Does he make you smile like crazy? Is he the super romantic boyfriend that you’ve always wanted? Is he good in bed?” Shelby begins but is stopped by your brother making a disgusted look. He definitely didn’t want to think about you and Matthew sleeping together. “Sorry, I forgot you were here.”
“It’s alright,” he grumbles, and Shelly throws you a wink knowing that she’d ask you about this later.
“The other questions are still valid, though.”
“It started because I was homesick. I realized that I missed home and needed a familiar face, so I called Matthew. From there, we realized that there was something there between us,” you explain hoping that your brother and Shelly would accept the story.
“More like you finally realized it,” Shelly corrects. You were about to contradict her words, but wouldn’t that break the facade you and Matthew have built? “What about the rest of the stuff?”
You shrug.
“That’s it? There’s nothing else you can say about it?”
“I like keeping my relationship private,” you say softly hoping it came across as confident despite the guilt you felt lying to your brother and best friend.
“Sure, and did this happen before you and I talked about bringing a date to the wedding?” Shelly questions further. She knows that if you liked someone and were crazy about them, then you’d be talking about this person constantly. She isn’t buying the story.
“We started talking before, but we made our relationship official shortly after your call,” you lie, again. You make a mental note to tell Matthew this so that when Shelly did interrogate him, he’d have that information.
“But you insisted you didn’t have anyone to bring as a date,” Shelly points out.
“You also called me if any of my friends would want to bring you,” your brother points out smugly. You glare at him and kick him under the table.
“I wasn’t sure if bringing Matthew would be like cheating because I knew he was invited to the wedding,” you quickly retorted. Would that be enough to have them lay off you?
“Sure, sure,” Shelly begins. “Look, if your relationship is of convenience, you know, for pleasure, you can say that.”
What? “What?” you and your brother speak at the same time. She wasn’t interrogating you because she thought you and Matthew were faking. She thought you and Matthew had a friends-with-benefits relationship! Somehow, that calms your nerves and helps you relax.
“Oh, so it’s a real relationship,” Shelly says with a grin. “I was wrong?”
“Yes, it’s a real relationship,” you laugh.
“I mean, if it were a pleasure-seeking based relationship, then I’d also be okay with that because you do need to make yourself happy,” Shelly winks.
“Okay, I’m done here,” your brother immediately gets up and walks over to his wife. You and Shelly both giggle.
“Are you happy?” she asks.
You nod. “Yeah, I’m happy.”
“That’s good. I have to get back to bride duties. I know that I was shocked when you told me you were dating Tkachuk earlier and didn’t react the way you wanted me to, but I only did it because I don’t want you to get hurt. He treated you like crap when you were in high school, and I don’t want him to go back to that version of himself. You seem happy, though, so ignore me.”
Shelly kisses your forehead and finds her fiance. You knew you weren’t going to get hurt because what you were both doing was merely for show. You both weren’t actually dating, so there were no feelings to be hurt, but one thing stuck out to you. Matthew liked you in high school? You weren’t sure why that unsettled you so much, but it did. Why would he have treated you like crap if he liked you? Would you and Matthew hurt each other? What happens when you both end this ruse? You know you’ll miss the way Matthew could always put a smile on your face and bring out giggle after giggle from you. You’d miss the way his smile or hand in yours would make your heart burst and make you warm inside and out. Were you on the path to getting hurt?
. . .
As Keith and Brady are arguing about the bill, Matthew and Chantal step outside to wait for them, and Taryn is in the washroom.
“So, you and Yn?” Chantal begins.
“Mom,” Matthew groans.
“I find it funny that the story that you told tonight to us is exactly what Yn told me a few weeks ago.”
“It’s what happened, so it makes sense that Yn told you the same thing,” Matthew lies.
“Yeah, but it was the exact same story, Matthew.”
Matthew looks at his mother, and he knows that she’s read through fabrication. “We both needed dates for things, so we thought we’d pretend to date to make it easier on both of us,” Matthew mumbles.
Chantal looks at her son and sees the forlorn expression on his face. “But you like her.”
“I’m pretty sure I’m in love with her, mom,” Matthew says sadly as if he finally realized the hopelessness of the situation.
“Why don’t you just tell her?”
“Because, mom, it’s like Taryn was saying earlier and why it shocks you so much. I treated Yn like crap when we were growing up, and I’m pretty sure she hates me.”
“But you love her.”
“I never hated her; I just didn’t know what to do with my feelings. I’m screwed, aren’t I?”
“I don’t know,” Chantal admits. Her heart breaks as she watches her son run his hands through his hair sadly as he admits to feelings. “I haven’t seen you both around each other, but who knows, maybe Yn does feel the same way.”
“No, I know for a fact she doesn’t. It’s okay, at least I have this,” Matthew says. Keith and Brady walk out of the restaurant at that moment with Taryn close on their heels. Keith slaps Matthew’s back and asks what Matthew was talking about. Matthew shrugs it off with a curt “nothing.” Matthew didn’t want the rest of his family to know about the reality of his dating life. He also knows that you’d rather not let that information come out.
“On Sunday, you and Yn should come over for dinner,” Chantal suggests. “Like tradition.”
“I’ll ask Yn,” Matthew answers.
“It’s not a request, Matthew,” Chantal says and walks with her husband. Well, then you and Matthew are going to dinner at the Tkachuk’s on Sunday.
. . .
The next morning after the rehearsal, you had to force yourself to pull yourself out of Matthew’s embrace. You’ve both woken up in the same entanglement as the morning before, but this time, you liked it. You enjoyed the warmth and comfort his hold produced. You groan as you get out of bed and walk to the washroom in the cold away from Matthew. You had to be up early to get things ready for the makeup artist, hairdresser, and photographer. You briefly washed your face and brushed your teeth before throwing on a pair of leggings and your “I Do Crew” t-shirt that was made for you. You grab your dress, shoes, and jewelry before heading over closer to the bed to grab your phone and purse. You place everything down and kiss Matthew on the forehead. You smiled at how peaceful and cute he looked as he was still sleeping.
If only it were real.
. . .
When Matthew’s alarm went off a few hours later, he moved closer to your pillow hoping to hold you for a little bit longer. When his head hits your cold pillow, Matthew’s chipper mood deflates when he realizes you’re not gone. He knows that you had to leave early for wedding preparations, but it still hurts knowing that you weren’t there to wake up next to him. In the past few days, Matthew has gotten used to waking up next to you. He isn’t sure what he’s going to do when you both return to your normal lives and he can no longer wake up next to you.
. . .
“Well, you look nice, Matthew,” Chantal says as Matthew sits in the row next to his family. Matthew straightens his tie. His leg is bouncing up and down in nervousness. Chantal observes her son from the corner of her eye and smiles at his actions.
“Have you seen Yn yet today?” Chantal leans over and asks. Matthew shakes his head no; he was nervous to see you. Matthew got a glimpse of your bridesmaid’s dress, and he knows you’re going to be just as beautiful, if not more, than the night of the rehearsal.
Matthew and his family continue to chat quietly, and everyone in the crowd abruptly ends their conversations as Shelly’s groom heads to the front of the aisle. In a matter of seconds, the orchestra begins to play the “Wedding March”, and everyone turns their heads to the aisle awaiting the procession. The groomsmen process down the aisle and take their places. Following the groomsmen are the bridesmaids. As each woman processes down the aisle and takes their places, Matthew is confused when he doesn’t see you among them. Matthew assumes, though, that because you’re the maid of honor, you have something special to do.
Matthew’s suspicions are confirmed when you walk down the aisle in your blush, floor-length, off-the-shoulder dress with your right hand holding the hand of the flower girl and your left hand holding a bouquet. As you walk down the aisle, Matthew is entranced by you. He stops breathing and blinking as he watches you. He watches as you lead the flower girl to her place and stand behind her. When everyone’s attention is turned to Shelly and her father walking down the aisle, Matthew’s attention is focused on you. He knew you were beautiful, but you were beautiful. There isn’t any difference between the two words, Matthew knows, but the latter word somehow means more. Matthew keeps telling himself it’s the dress, but he knows it’s not just the dress. It’s the person wearing the dress. It’s the way your face glowed from happiness at the new couple and the makeup you had on. It was the way your hair flowed impeccably in the breeze. It’s the way you looked amazing in that dress that had Matthew frozen. You were the most beautiful person Matthew has ever seen, and he didn’t want to look away.
When you catch Matthew’s eye, he swears he died and came back to life. You smile softly at him, but he doesn’t do anything. He just stands there staring at you as the officiant continues to talk. Chantal notices you trying to stifle a giggle and turns to her son to see if he had anything to do with it. When she sees Matthew just staring at you, she elbows him.
“Smile at her,” Chantal directs. That, it seemed, was what finally took Matthew out of his trance. He blinks and takes a deep breath right before sending you his signature smile. You shake your head playfully when you notice that Chantal had to remind him to smile and pay attention. You turn your attention back to the ceremony happening right in front of you as the officiant directs everyone to sit. You also try to ignore the hole it feels like Matthew (and the rest of the Tkachuks) were burning into the back of your head.
Because you were the maid of honor, you were one of the official witnesses and had to stand behind the bride. Through it all, Matthew was watching you. He was captivated by you, enamored by you. You met his eye a few times and had to force yourself not to laugh as a blush overcame his face and he turned away. Taryn, thinking that the next wedding she’d be attending was between you and Matthew, was watching the interactions between you two. The first time she watched you looked constipated as you tried to hide a giggle, she knew Matthew was the reason. After the second time, Taryn made sure to keep an eye on Matthew, too, so he could watch his reaction. Normally, in relationships, Matthew was confident, cocky, and full of himself. He was always the one to make the person he was dating speechless, shy, and look away bashfully. This time, though, you were the one in control, overtaking Matthew’s usual position. This time, Matthew was the one who was smiling bashfully and looking away whenever you’d meet his eye.
Taryn noticed that you stopped turning your attention to Matthew when the vows began to focus on the bride and groom. That doesn’t mean, though, that Matthew was paying attention to the happy couple. He was still watching you.
“Hey, Matthew,” Taryn leans over her mother and whispers.
That seems to take Matthew out of his trance as he rolls his eyes at his sister's words. “What?”
“Stop staring at your girlfriend. You’re trying to get her to marry you, not run away from you.”
“Taryn,” Chantal warns. Matthew doesn’t say anything except to stare ahead. This time, though, he doesn’t place his eyes on you. No, he places his eyes on the couple hoping to get his family off his case. He didn’t want to face the reality of the situation that Matthew wasn’t trying to get you to marry him despite him knowing you were the one. He hoped to ignore the true reason why Matthew was here as your date and not as a family friend. During the rest of the ceremony, Matthew doesn’t look at you once. He opts to look at the couple, the officiant, or the beauty of the outdoor venue. He hopes that by not looking at you, Matthew can escape the reality that he’s in love with you and you, it seems, are not.
When the ceremony ends and the couple walks down the aisle, you and the rest of the wedding party are getting ready to take photos during the Cocktail Hour. You try to make your way to find Matthew and see him because you missed him, but every time it seemed you had a chance, he was busy or was avoiding you.
Eventually, the Cocktail Hour was over and everyone was heading into the location of the reception. After you’ve made your rounds, you look around to see where Matthew was or your brother. You weren’t sure who you were going to sit with, but you were hoping to sit next to Matthew, though. You weren’t sure why Matthew was in a sour mood, but you knew you caused it. You only hoped he wasn’t too mad at you.
“Hey, you look beautiful,” Brady says as he walks up to you. He is holding a fresh drink in his hand, so you assume he was coming from the bar.
“Thank you,” you murmur, wondering if Matthew was around, too.
“Matthew, don’t you think so, too?” Brady says, and you turn your head to where Brady was directing his question to.
“Hi,” you whisper when your eyes lock with Matthew’s. You see anger in his eyes and are suddenly worried that Matthew is truly upset at you. However, Matthew’s face softens when you send him a soft smile, and the anger leaves his face.
“Are you sitting with us?” Brady asks.
“Of course, she’s sitting with us,” Matthew says and walks over to and wraps an arm around your waist. “She’s my girlfriend.”
You smile and let Matthew lead you to where his family is sitting. Matthew pulls out a chair for you to sit in, and he pushes it in for you. Matthew takes the seat next to you, and you’re suspicious that it was Brady’s when he grumbled about sitting in the chair next to you. Immediately upon sitting, Matthew places his hand on your thigh and scoots his chair closer to yours.
As the night carried on, Matthew never took his hand off your thigh, and he constantly whispered in your ear asking if you were okay. If you needed a refill on a drink, Matthew always went to the bar to get you a refill and insisted you shouldn’t have to get up. He always returned by placing the drink on the table and placing a kiss on your forehead.
When he returned with your third or fourth refill of the night, you smiled at him as he sat down and told him, “You know, I’m starting not to hate you anymore.”
Matthew looks at you sadly at your words. You still had animosity towards him? He thought he’s been working so hard to change your opinion of him, but it seems it's just barely working. You notice the strain and sadness in Matthew’s pout and wonder if you did something wrong. You place your hand on his thigh and look into his eyes. The minute your hand touched his thigh, Matthew was fine. It didn’t matter what you said because he knows he cares about you, and he knows that deep down, you care for him, too, despite your words.
“You okay?” you ask.
“Of course,” he says with a smile. “I’m sitting next to the prettiest person in the world; why wouldn’t I be okay?”
You smile at Matthew’s words and rest your head on his shoulder. What were you going to do when you and Matthew no longer could be like this? You knew you were going to miss it.
. . .
As the reception is nearing the final hours, everyone’s moods have turned more casual and laid back, including you and Matthew. Both of your chairs were right up against each other with you leaning heavily against Matthew with your head resting on his chest. His hand was wrapped around your shoulders and was rubbing small patterns on your shoulder. You and Matthew are talking to Brady and Taryn when a slow song, one of your favorites, begins to play. You perk up slightly, wondering if you should ask Matthew to dance with you.
“Hey, Yn, isn’t this one of your favorite songs?” Brady instigates.
“Oh, yeah, I guess it is,” you reply, and Matthew looks down at you softly.
“Do you want to dance, Yn?” Matthew asks. You nod and slowly pull away so he can lead you to the dance floor. You and Matthew position yourselves so that your hands are resting just below his neck with his resting on your mid-back. You both sway to the song, and you’re both entranced with each other’s eyes. As the song continues, Matthew’s hands slowly rise up to the bare skin of your upper back. He begins to stroke soft patterns on your skin, and it sends chills up your spine. You pull yourself closer to Matthew to try to use his warmth to evade the chills. You run your fingers through the hair at the nape of Matthew’s neck, and you see his Adam’s apple bob in his throat.
As the song comes to an end, Matthew licks his lips and leans his head towards yours. He pulls his head back slightly. Was this appropriate? He didn’t have the chance to further contemplate kissing you because you pulled away and led him back to the table. His one true regret that evening is that he didn’t kiss you. He wanted to kiss you. He wanted to kiss you badly, and he wanted nothing more than to kiss you and tell you how much he loves you.
He knows he’s dug himself into a hole he will never get out of.
. . .
“What are you doing today?” Matthew asks as you’re getting ready for the day. Based on his tone, you know something’s up, and you have to agree with whatever it is.
“Why?” you ask nervously.
“Would you want to go to my parents’ house for Sunday dinner? Like pastimes?”
You turn to face Matthew and smirk at him. “I feel like I don’t have a choice here.”
“My mom said that I had to bring you, no negotiations, so yeah, you have no choice.”
You laugh. “Okay, I can go to your parents’ for Sunday dinner, but I know my parents and brother won’t be there. They have plans tonight.”
“What are you going to do for the rest of the day, then?” Matthew asks knowing he wants to spend the day with you.
“I’m going to visit some friends from high school; what are you doing?”
“Just hanging around. Nothing much.”
“Okay then, why don’t I meet you back here, and then we can head over to your parents’ house?”
“Perfect,” Matthew says and turns away from you to go shower. On his face, he’s wearing a wide smile. He only hoped that you were just as excited as he was.
. . .
Unlike when you were growing up, you didn’t stay outside with the boys while Chantal and Keith got dinner together. This time, you and Taryn were in the kitchen helping Chantal cook while Brady and Matthew were out at the grill helping Keith. Now and then, you’d look out the backyard window and notice Matthew. Sometimes, he’d meet your eye and wink at you, and your face would grow warm. Or, sometimes, he wouldn’t be looking at you, but you saw him turn his head away as if he was just looking at you. Sometimes, he didn’t notice you looking at all, and you loved watching him interact with his dad and brother.
“He seems lighter when he’s around you,” Chantal comments after noticing you and Matthew staring at each other for the gazillionth time that afternoon.
“How so?” you ask.
“He’s nice,” Taryn says blatantly.
“Taryn,” Chantal scolds, and you can’t help but smile.
“I’m not wrong,” she defends.
Chantal rolls her eyes. “All I’m trying to say is, you guys are good for each other. It’s about time you both realized the dynamic you both have after years of animosity between you two.”
“Who knows, maybe we’ll finally be sisters,” Taryn jokes, hinting at the possibility of marriage. The smile on your face fades as you remember that you and Matthew aren’t dating. The smile fades knowing that you and Matthew wouldn’t ever get married, and when this ruse was over, many more people would get hurt than you both anticipated.
“Anyways, let’s go eat, yeah?” Chantal approaches. “Taryn, you put the salad on the plate and tell the boys we’re ready. Yn, you can help me scoop the other sides, okay?”
You were about to take the potato salad out to the table, but Chantal grabs your shoulder lightly and signals you to hold back for a moment.
“Just know, Matthew cares deeply for you,” she advises. “At the end of the day, he’s crazy about you; don’t forget that.”
You don’t have the words to say anything in response, so you just nod. Chantal seems to think you fully understand her words, so she walks out to the backyard. You don’t. What could she be talking about? Did she know that you and Matthew weren’t dating? You thought you both put up a pretty good act.
Opting to try to enjoy the evening, you place your worries to the back of your head and walk out to the patio. Just as you’re placing the potato salad on the table, Brady is placing the grilled corn on the table, too. Taryn’s already taken her usual seat, and because it’s a smaller crowd, Chantal has taken the seat where your brother would normally sit. Following tradition, you sit next to Taryn, and Brady takes the seat next to you. Keith has taken his seat and says that Matthew has gotten to grab a refill of drinks for you and him.
“Brady, move,” Matthew growls to his brother from behind you. You perk your head up and turn to see Matthew glaring at his brother.
“What? No! Go sit somewhere else. I’m already sitting here,” Brady says in retaliation and annoyance. He shakes his head and mutters a comment to you asking how you put up with him. You stifle a giggle knowing that the look in Matthew’s eyes was of determination, and the ordeal wasn’t over yet.
“Brady, I said, move,” Matthew says more forcefully.
“Why can’t you sit somewhere else? You never sit here.”
“Brady, move,” Matthew growls again.
“Why don’t you sit here, Matthew?” Taryn asks, trying to diffuse the situation. It was clear that Matthew wanted to sit next to you.
“No, I want Brady to move.”
“I’m not going to,” Brady is firm in his words. “Seriously, Yn, how do you deal with him sometimes?”
You don’t say anything, but Matthew does and is still incessant on Brady moving. “Brady, move and sit somewhere else. I want to sit next to my girlfriend.”
Brady stands up and stares at his brother. Looking at Matthew’s face, Brady knows that Matthew won’t give up on his endeavor, so Brady sighs and proceeds to get up. Brady goes and sits in his old normal seat, and Matthew sits next to you. He places a glass of water on the table for himself (he already had one beer but was driving, so he had to be safe) and lemonade for you. “Thank you, Brady,” Matthew says softly once he’s situated.
Brady grumbles in reply and mutters about how annoying Matthew was. You place your hand on Matthew’s thigh and lean over to whisper in his ear, “You didn’t have to force Brady to move, you know. It’s fine if we don’t sit next to each other.”
“It’s not fine,” Matthew whispers into your ear. “I wanted to sit next to my girlfriend, so I was going to sit next to my girlfriend.”
You open your mouth to say how it was all a ruse but decide against it.
“Shall we eat?” After observing her two sons spar over a seat and Matthew melt as he whispers into your ear, Chantal finally says.
Conversation, as everyone eats, varies from the wedding from the previous night to Taryn going to college to the upcoming season to your job. You loved how normal it was and how it was like before. It felt like before you and Matthew turned ten started hating each other. It was like when you were both young and the idea of marrying each other was still a thing. It was the way life was supposed to be had Matthew not started hating you at the age of ten. As you were both eating, Matthew always had a hand on you. Whether it was on your thigh or around your shoulder, Matthew was always touching you, and his family noticed completely.
“You know, when Matthew told us you were both dating, I was truly shocked. I was surprised you would ever go for him, Yn, considering you are way out of his league,” Brady says out of nowhere and tries to get back at his brother.
“Brady,” Keith warns.
“He’s not wrong, though,” Taryn points out, not realizing the true intentions of Brady's words. “As much as I love you, Matthew, Yn is completely out of your league.”
You notice Matthew stiffening up next to you, and you place your hand on his thigh to try to calm him down.
“I’m just surprised you even gave him a chance considering Matthew hated you for like half your life.”
“Taryn,” Chantal warns. Taryn looks up at her mother and shrugs in confusion.
“I never hated, Yn,” Matthew defends. “I’m not sure where you guys are getting that from.”
“How about the fact that — ow!” Brady is stopped as Chantal kicks him under the table. An awkward silence fills the table as everyone finishes up their meals. What did Matthew mean when he said he never hated you? His actions definitely showed it. Did he still hate you? All these questions swirled in your head as Taryn volunteers you and her for clearing the table. You move in autopilot as you clear the table still trying to figure out the meaning of Matthew’s words.
“I’m sorry for my comments out there,” Taryn apologizes. “I didn’t mean to say anything hurtful.”
“Don’t worry,” you tell her with a smile. “I wasn’t offended, but I think Matthew could use an apology more than me.”
“Nah, he’ll be fine. He’s got thick skin, and it’s not like I said anything he didn’t know.”
“Mmm,” you say, not sure how to respond.
“I’ve never seen Matthew so protective over someone before. Is possessive the right word? I don’t know, but I don’t think he’s ever been like that. If he would challenge Brady to something and wouldn’t immediately get his way, then he’d just drop the subject or physically fight Brady. He didn’t do either of those things. There’s something about you, Yn, that brings out a different side to Matthew,” Taryn points out as she’s rinsing the dishes, and you place them in the dishwasher.
“Interesting,” you say, again, not sure how to respond
“It’s a good thing. You’re both good for each other.”
. . .
You and Matthew say goodbye to Chantal, Keith, Brady, and Taryn two hours later and head back to the hotel you were staying at. Chantal couldn’t understand why you guys didn’t just stay with them before you flew back to Calgary the next morning. You weren’t sure how to explain that you’re not dating her son, and you needed some time to unwind and not have to be Matthew’s pretend girlfriend for extended periods of time.
As you’re driving to the hotel, you and Matthew sit in silence. Now and then, Matthew would shift in his seat in discomfort. You could tell he was still upset from Brady’s and Taryn’s comments. You reach your hand across the center console and place it on his thigh. You hear Matthew’s breath halt at the touch, and you’re confused at the sound.
“Matthew, are you okay?” you ask softly. “Don’t take Brady’s and Taryn’s words too seriously.”
“Yeah, but —”
“Matthew, don’t,” you interrupt as he stops at a red light. He turns to you, and his heart melts at how the lights on the street illuminate your face. He nods at your words, and suddenly, he wasn’t sad or frustrated anymore. The drive continues in silence, but your hand doesn’t leave his thigh. You have one lingering thought, though. “Matthew?”
“Mmm?” he asks.
“What did you mean when you said earlier that you didn’t hate me?”
“I didn’t realize there was anything to say. I don’t hate you,” Matthew says blatantly.
“Yeah, but you did hate me.”
Matthew laughs sourly. “Why do you think that even though I’ve told you that I didn’t hate you?”
“You were such a pest to me after we turned ten.”
“That didn’t mean I hated you, Yn.”
“Then why were you such a pest?” you ask.
“Because I had a giant crush on you when we were ten.”
“You had a what?” you asked, shocked, as Matthew drives into a parking space.
“A crush when we were ten,” Matthew answers and walks out of the car. He walks over to your side and opens the door for you. You step out of the car still reeling for his confession. “Don’t worry, Yn, I don’t have a crush on you anymore, so don’t worry.”
“Good,” you reply quietly. You aren’t sure why you are so upset at Matthew’s words, but you are. Did you have a crush on Matthew, now?
. . .
You’re standing in front of the mirror placing the final touches on your makeup and hair as you get ready to fly back to Calgary. You vaguely notice Matthew sitting in the chair behind you. You figured he was looking at his phone or watching the TV that was on. You lift your eyes to glance at the boy in question. Just as your eyes meet his face, Matthew looks up, and his eyes land right on yours. You stop moving, too entranced in his gaze. Matthew sends you a soft smile, and you mirror his smile. He sends you a wink, and your eyes instantly dart away from him. You continue getting ready, and you try to ignore the heat that rushed to your face and the rapid beating of your heart.
. . .
“I brought pizza and beer, is that good?” you say as you walk into Matthew’s kitchen. It was his first night back in Calgary since you said goodbye at the airport after the wedding, and he wanted to spend the night with you.
“That’s perfect,” he says and takes everything out of your hands.
You take your shoes off and walk further into this apartment. “Oh, looks like you cleaned.”
Matthew looks around the apartment and scratches the back of his neck. He turns to you, and you see a slight blush lining his cheeks. “Yeah, well, no one likes to live in a pigsty.”
You raise your eyebrow at his words. “What version of Matthew is this? The high school version of Matthew had the most disgusting bedroom ever.”
“Oh, shut up,” Matthew rolls his eyes and throws a napkin at you. You swat at it and begin to giggle. Matthew takes a piece of pizza and places it on a plate for you and opens a bottle of beer for you. You take it out of his hands with a soft “thank you” and walk over to his kitchen table. He places his plate and beer on the table and places his hands on your hips; your breath catches in your throat at his touch, and Matthew swears his heart started to beat a hundred times faster at the sound. He guides you towards the couch. “We’re sitting on the couch to eat.”
“But, Matthew,” you say after regaining your voice. You watch him grab his beer and plate from the table where he placed it and sits next to you.
“Nope, we’re not at Yn’s house. We’re at Matthew’s house, so we eat on the couch when we’re having a movie night.”
“Matthew,” you begin again.
He shakes his head as he takes a sip. “Don’t. I can’t eat this once training camp and the season starts, so let’s just enjoy it, okay?”
You nod and take a bite out of your pizza. Why did your breath hitch out of your throat when Matthew touched you? He’s touched you before, but why was it different this time?
. . .
“How about these?” Matthew asks as he holds a bag of chips in front of your face.
You shake your head. “I don’t like that flavor, and I already bought a bag of chips.”
“Maybe you should buy them for me, this lovely person who you forced to go grocery shopping with you.”
“That is not what happened, Matthew, and you know that,” your point out.
Matthew walks over to you and entraps you from where you’re standing at your shopping cart. He places his hands on the bar on your sides so you can’t move. He leans his head towards your ear and whispers, “Then tell me what happened.”
“You know what happened,” you murmur, trying to hide the fact that Matthew’s actions and words were sending chills down your spine.
“But I want you to tell me,” he whispers again into your ear.
“You showed up at my apartment just as I was about to leave,” you swallow before continuing, “and you insisted on coming with me, and here we are.”
“I don’t recall that being how it happened,” Matthew says against your neck, and the vibrations warm your entire body. You figure if Matthew was going to mess with you in the middle of the snack aisle at the grocery store, you might as well do the same. You wrap your arms around his neck and pull his face closer to yours. Your lips are micrometers from his, and you can tell that Matthew is nervous.
“That’s exactly how I remember it happening,” you say against his lips and with each word you said, your lips touching Matthew’s. Out of instinct and preparation for a kiss, Matthew places his hands on your waist, and you smirk, knowing you have him right where you want him. You run your hands up through his hair, and Matthew’s hold on you becomes limp. You lean closer, if possible, to him, and Matthew thinks you’re going to kiss him. Just when you would’ve leaned forward and kiss Matthew, you pull back and escape from where Matthew has you entrapped. You’re standing a few feet away from him, and you notice Matthew still in his trance. “You coming?”
That seems to take him out of his trance, and he nods and pushes the shopping cart to follow you. Matthew isn’t sure what happened, but he knows that whatever did just happen sent Matthew to heaven.
. . .
“What are you wearing?” Taryn asks you when you sit down next to her.
“Oh, this old thing?” you say, pretending to be oblivious.
“Matthew’s going to hate it considering you’re his girlfriend, who the Flames are playing, and what you’re not wearing.”
“I’m counting on it.”
“You are such a pest like Matthew. No wonder you guys are so good to each other,” Taryn rolls her eyes.
“You’re lucky we won or you’d have hell brought down upon you,” Matthew says when you’re standing outside the locker room after the game.
“I didn’t know you knew the devil personally,” you joke.
“Why did you have to wear Brady’s jersey, Yn? The day that I play the Sens, you are wearing the wrong brother’s jersey.”
You shrug but have a knowing smirk on your face. “I felt like it.”
Matthew groans when he sees Brady walking over to you and him. “Nice jersey,” Brady smirks.
“Thank you. Too bad you guys lost.”
“Seriously?” Matthew’s mouth’s agape.
“Oh shut up, you know I cheered for you when you scored,” you say and link arms with Brady as you head towards Chantal and Keith. “It worked. I pissed him off,” you whisper to Brady.
“You guys are so weird,” Brady chuckles. Matthew just stands behind you and Brady and is trying to figure out what just happened and how he’s going to get back at you.
. . .
When you showed up to the Senators-Flames game wearing Brady’s jersey, Matthew knew he had to think of a way to get back at you. After a week-long road trip and coming home at 2 am, Matthew wanted nothing more than to go home and sleep. He also wanted nothing more in the world to see you and to get back at you. When he got in his car to drive home, Matthew realized he had the perfect plan to get back at you. He knows that something you value deeply is your sleep, so because you messed with something important to Matthew, he was going to mess with something important to you.
Matthew drives to your apartment from the airport and parks in the parking spot next to your car. He isn’t sure why he thought you didn’t have a car and why you don’t drive it to work, but here your car is. He walks into the lobby of your building and waves to the nightguard working the night shift. He takes the elevator up to your floor and walks up to your door. He takes a deep breath and begins to aggressively ring your doorbell. He hopes that you wake up and none of your neighbors do.
The ringing continues for twenty seconds before you realize it’s not your alarm. You sit up for a few moments when you realize that it’s someone at the door. When the ringing doesn’t stop, you get worried that something’s wrong. You rush over to the door and open it. “Is everything okay?” you blurt out before noticing who’s the one ringing your doorbell.
“No, I have a very important message for you,” Matthew says with a smirk grazing his face.
“What happened? Is everything okay?” you’re worried now. You’re still barely awake, and if you were, you probably would have noticed the smirk on Matthew’s face.
“It’s an important message. Ready for it?”
“Yeah, yeah, just tell me!”
“Hi.”
“Hi? That’s it? Matthew, you rang my door like a lunatic and made me worry that something was seriously wrong. What’s wrong with you?”
“You wore Brady’s jersey to my hockey game.”
“So you decide to pull this shit?” you’re angry now, and Matthew realizes he made a mistake.
“I’m sorry. I also wanted to see you,” he mumbles.
You sigh and pull him into your apartment. “Then call me instead of halfway giving me a heart attack.”
Matthew nods and follows you into your apartment. He puts his bag down by the door and takes his shoes off.
“I’m going back to sleep, but you can change and shower in my washroom and join me when you’re ready. I’m not staying awake; I’m too tired.”
Matthew is shocked that you’re doing this. Matthew woke you at 2 in the morning just because and you’re opening your home for him despite it. Matthew will never take your friendship for granted ever again.
. . .
“Matthew, are we still fake dating?” you ask out of nowhere. It’s been months since the wedding, and you weren’t sure if you and Matthew still had that title. Recently, you both had been hanging out together, but it didn’t seem like “dating”. It was “friend” hangouts, and you were both disappointed and happy with it.
“Why do you ask?” Matthew asks. He doesn’t want to fake date you anymore; he wants to real date you, but he isn’t sure if you want that, too.
“Because,” you hesitate.
“Because, why?”
“I went out with some friends the other night and this guy was hitting on me, and I turned him down because I didn’t know if we were still under the ruse of dating.”
“Oh,” Matthew says dejectedly. “Don’t worry, if you see him, or anyone else, who’s hitting on you, then you can say yes. We, as of this moment, are just friends and no longer fake dating.”
You nod. “What do we tell people? Like, Shelly or your family?”
Matthew shrugs. “We realized we were better off friends. We went from the extreme of not being able to be around each other to the extreme of always being around each other and realized it doesn’t work.”
“Okay,” you say. You weren’t sure why you were so upset with Matthew’s response.
After the conversation, you head home about an hour later with your head still reeling from Matthew’s words. Just friends, he said, but you didn’t want that, did you? You wanted Matthew in every way that you could. You wanted him next to you when you woke up and when you fell asleep. You wanted good morning kisses, good night kisses, and just kisses in between that. You wanted Matthew because you liked him. You wanted Matthew because, in the months of fake dating, you fell for him. You fell for Matthew Tkachuk, the one boy you never thought you’d fall for, and the one boy who doesn’t want you like that.
. . .
You went out with Matthew and the team to celebrate another win. This time, you wore Matthew’s jersey, and you swore Matthew’s smile grew wider when he saw you in it. The celebration at the bar thus far has been fun. You weren’t sure if the team knows you and Matthew “broke up”, but it doesn’t matter because Matthew was still being touchy with you, and you hoped that you were hiding your feelings for Matthew well.
“I’m going to go get some refills for us, okay? Same drink for you?” Matthew whispers into your ear. You visibly shiver at his action, and you know Matthew noticed. You nod, not trusting your words. To try to ignore how you’re feeling, you immerse yourself in conversation with the group. It works, you think, but when you look up and see the back of Matthew’s head, your heart begins to beat rapidly. You needed to figure out how to get your emotions in check if you’re going to continue to be hanging out as friends with Matthew.
“So, you and Matthew have been going strong, huh?” Annica says when she notices you staring at Matthew. You snap your attention back to the woman. Matthew must not have told the team that you and he “broke up”. You guess that would be a weird conversation to have. You doubted Matthew said something along the lines of, “Yes, we broke up, but I’m going to keep bringing Yn around. Why? Well, we were never really dating, and now we are just friends. Yeah, it’s weird, but just go with it.”
“Oh, um, yeah,” you reply, hoping that Annica didn’t read too much into your words.
“I can tell he’s crazy about you and that he —,” Annica is interrupted by Elias bringing her another glass of wine and conversation changes. You look back at Matthew to try to figure out the meaning of Annica’s words. Just as your eyes land on Matthew’s head, he turns around, as if sensing your gaze, and meets your eyes. He smiles at you, and you instantly feel the tears falling from your eyes. You try to blink them away, but when Matthew begins to rush over to you, you know that he noticed. You excuse yourself from the group and rush out of the bar.
“Yn, yn,” Matthew calls out to you. He catches up to you with his long strides and places his hand gently on your shoulder. You turn to face him and feverishly wipe the tears away. “Yn, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing,” you lie.
“I didn’t know we cry over nothing now, but thanks for letting me know,” Matthew jokes, but it doesn’t do anything to make you feel better. “What’s wrong?”
“I can’t be your friend anymore; it just hurts too much to be your friend when I want more,” you blurt out and walk away. Matthew is too stunned at your words to follow after you. You want more? Since when? Matthew doesn’t come to his senses to chase after you until you’re getting into your car to drive home. What does he do now?
. . .
“Yn, yn, yn, I know you’re in there,” Matthew yells as he aggressively knocks on your apartment door the next day. “Yn, please. I just want to talk to you.
You angrily stalk to the door and open it. “What, Matthew? Maybe you should have taken a hint when I didn’t open the door the first eighteen times you knocked on it.”
“Yeah, well, we need to talk, so it doesn’t matter if I was knocking on your door for hours, I’m going to talk to you.”
“Matthew, there’s nothing to say,” you tell him through gritted teeth hoping not to let it show how much you wanted to cry at that moment.
“Like hell, there’s nothing to talk about,” Matthew aggressively replies as he runs his hands through his hair. “You can’t just say that and leave, you know. You’ve had me going crazy, Yn!”
“Well, it’s not like you feel the same way or want the same thing,” you mumble, looking at the ground.
“Are you kidding me? I’ve wanted this since I was ten!” Matthew replies incredulously.
“But you told me you didn’t like me anymore!”
“That’s because I thought you didn't like me like that.”
“Well, I do like you like that, Matthew.”
He takes a step closer to you and looks into your eyes. “That entire time we were fake dating? I was imagining it was real. I was doing everything in my power to make it real so that I could have that experience of being with you because I thought I’d never had a chance with you. Like my parents said, you are completely out of my league, so I was extremely honored that you ever wanted to fake date me.”
“I don’t want to fake date you.”
“I don’t want to fake date you, either,” Matthew chuckles.
“Oh, good,” you reply and look down at your feet. “I want to be your real girlfriend.”
Matthew laughs at your words. “That’s what not wanting to fake date means.”
“Oh, right,” you giggle at yourself.
“So, if I put my hands on your waist and kiss you, is that okay?”
“That’s more than okay, Matthew,” you tell him with a smile and place your hands on his face to bring him closer to you. Matthew smiles at your words and leans his head towards yours. You both softly placed your lips on each other before deepening the kiss. It wasn’t the first kiss you both shared, but it was the first time you kissed each other with your feelings on display. You both deepen the kiss, and Matthew pulls you into him. You run your fingers through the hair at the nape of Matthew’s neck, and you giggle at the small moan that leaves him. His moan and your giggle cause you both to pull back. Matthew gives you a pointed look.
“Great, our first kiss ends like that.”
You giggle again. “It’s not our first kiss, Matthew.”
“Still,” he pouts.
“Don’t worry,” you tease. “There will be many, many kisses in our future.”
“I’m going to hold you to that,” Matthew says with a grin and pulls you in for another kiss.
The get-together wasn’t perfect or what anyone expected, but it was your story, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
#matthew tkachuk#matthew tkachuk imagine#matthew tkachuk x reader#matthew tkachuk fic#matthew tkachuk imagines#nhl fic#nhl imagine#nhl imagines#nhl writing#nhl fanfiction#hockey fic#hockey writing#hockey fanficition#hockey imagine#calgary flames x reader#calgary flames imagine#calgary flames fic#claudia writes
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GOJO SATORU || pretty eyes [pt.2]
anime: jujutsu kaisen
character: gojo satoru
pronouns: she/her
notes: high-school! gojo x underclassman! reader
the part two of ‘pretty eyes’ is here! read part one here.
“You really do have pretty eyes, senpai.”
Gojo prides himself as a man who just ‘doesn’t do relationships’. Besides the fact that there is a line of women who were just waiting to get with him, he had never really seen what an actual functioning relationship looked like. His parents had an arranged marriage to ‘keep the Gojo clan’s genes powerful’ - his father was barely around, going about his duties to the clan whilst his mother was out and about having affairs left, right and center.
With that being said though, Gojo was a determined man. He may not know exactly what was it that draws him to a particular junior of his, but he’d be damned if he didn’t get to at least know her better. The problem? He has absolutely no clue on how to woe her.
“Remind me again exactly what am I doing here?”
It was a Friday afternoon - and classes are always let out earlier on Friday. Usually Geto would spend the free afternoon just relaxing in his dorm after a long week of classes and missions; but before Geto can evens step one foot out of the stuffy classroom, Gojo had grabbed his arm and teleported them both out of campus. That’s how he found himself in a random café that Gojo had graciously dragged them into, narrowing his eyes over at his best friend as he raised his mug of earl grey to his lips. “If this is about copying my essay-”
“How do you ask a girl out?”
“Hah?” Geto asks with an annoyed scowl, to which Gojo just made a noise before he awkward sets his clean cake fork down; the multi-layered cookies and cream cake sat untouched before him. That alone should be concerning, since Gojo is known to have a strong affinity for sweets. “How do you ask a girl out? Like, on a date.” Gojo repeated with the utmost serious expression on his face, and for a few moments Geto just blinks at him owlishly. “Satoru, how the hell have you been asking women out before this? It’s the same damn thing.”
“Asking a girl you actually like out and asking someone for a one night stand are two very different things.” Gojo stresses whilst Geto actually sets his mug down before him, the situation slowly dawning onto him. “You’re actually being serious right now.” He mutters whilst Gojo tossed him an annoyed look, clearly unamused by how little faith his friend has in him. “Well, first things first, you actually need to get to know them better first before you actually ask them.”
“Yeah, well - I’m trying to work on that.” Gojo grumbles out quietly as he picked his fork back up, digging into the corner of his cake with a soft frown whilst Geto leans back into his seat with a thoughtful look. “But I didn’t even notice her until recently.” He sighs softly to himself as he examined his forkful of cake, a slight pout tugging on his lips. “I am sure Ieiri might help. But knowing her, that means I’ll owe her another debt that she will use against me.”
Geto, for once, actually feels some form of sympathy for Gojo. Whilst he grew up in a functioning household with loving parents, Gojo was brought up in a lonely world, where he was treated like a prized position to be paraded about. So Geto wasn’t shocked at how unsure the usually overconfident Gojo is when it comes to something as trivial as dating. “Well...you can bring her out for coffee like you’re doing with me.” He offered, to which Gojo just made a face at his statement. “Sorry buddy, I don’t swing that way.”
“You little piece of shit.” Geto grunted with a light scowl as he kicked Gojo hard underneath the table, his annoyance growing at the familiar grin that was tugging at the corners of Gojo’s lips; and also the fact that his foot was stop by the Limitless that Gojo had activated before Geto can kick. “I mean an actual cute date dumbass - bring her café hopping about Tokyo or something. Or one of those pet cafes - people love pet cafes.” Geto said with a tired sigh, picking up his mug to take a slow sip from his warm liquid whilst Gojo actually pauses for a moment at Geto’s words. “Wait, that’s not that bad of an idea.”
Geto just rolled his eyes at that, taking soft sips from his mug whilst he watches as Gojo start googling about a few cafes that he can bring her about. “You’re welcome.” Geto said with a tired sigh as he sets his mug down, crossing his arms over his chest as he looks over at Gojo. “Now figure out a way to get to know her better and see if she’s even interested in your annoying ass.” He stated simply, to which Gojo just grins as he pointed the end of his fork as Geto, having eating that bite of cake whilst he typing away on his phone. “Who wouldn’t be interested in me?”
“Do you really want me to answer that?”
The next time he had gotten a chance to bump into her was actually by complete accident.
Like usually, he had decided to slack off instead of doing his homework; so it was no surprise to find the young shaman cooped up in the library of the school with a variety of textbooks opened around him. To be honest, Gojo wouldn’t have done this essay if it wasn’t for the fact that it had a heavy weightage on his final grade, determining if he could graduate from high school.
Even with that threat overhead, he decided to drag it out until the very last day to start writing it. Geto was just annoyed at him, since Gojo is actually really smart - yet he enjoys slacking off. It was infuriating, and since Gojo had already annoyed him enough with his entire ‘crush’ situation, Geto had just told him to go to the library before promptly closing the door in his face.
So there Gojo was, long limbs stretched out all over the place as he twirls his pen between his fingers. He had the most bored expression on his face as he tilted his head back with a sigh, his eyes blinking up at the wooden ceiling. If he was being honest, he had actually finished half of his essay - until he grew bored and wanted a distraction. He was about to get up to go and grab a snack from the vending machines when he heard a pair of soft footsteps and a quiet voice calling out to him.
“Oh, hello there, Gojo-senpai.”
Gojo widen his eyes in shock as he suddenly sat up straight, almost dropping the pen he was twirling between his fingers as he snapped his eyes up at the girl that had plagued his thoughts day and night. The same smile gracing her lips as she curiously walked towards the messy desk, casting a glance over the many opened books and the half-written essay before him. “Am I disturbing your research?”
“N-No.” Gojo said, cringing a little at how awkward he sounded - it was so unnatural and so unlike him, and he hopes that she didn’t notice it. Fortunately she hadn’t picked up on the awkwardness that he was basically radiating as she smiles and nods, gesturing to the free seat opposite from his with her free hand. “Do you mind if I take a seat there? I don’t really like studying alone in the library, it can get really quiet and boring.”
Numbly Gojo nodded, feeling a light blush coating his cheeks when he saw the grateful smile she tossed over at him casually as she made her way to the seat. He snapped out of it when he saw her pulling her own textbook from her bag, quickly shifting his mess into a neat pile so she has more space to work. She thanked him quietly with a smile, settling down in the free seat opposite from his as she started to flip through her book. He pretended to return to his work as well, but in reality he was watching her through his lashes, admiring how she can make something as simple as reading look graceful.
There was no way he was going to be able to do work now.
Closing his eyes a little, he reaches up to rub the bridge of his nose, this action causing his signature rounded sunglasses to fall down the bridge a little more. He was about to push them back when he felt a pair of eyes on him, causing him to look over the rim of his glasses over at the girl before him. When she was caught staring she just smiles at him, causing Gojo’s now calmed cheeks to flare up once more. “You really do have pretty eyes, senpai.” The girl stated simply, tilting her head a little as she casted him another smile.
And once more, the simple act of a smile caused Gojo’s breath to hitch, his eyes widening even more as he watches how she just casually looked down at her textbook once more. If only she knew just how that one sentence had basically shot-circuited his brain - rendering him useless for a few seconds. Somehow though, he managed to slowly return to his senses and start on his essay, the sound of having someone else studying with him getting him into the groove of things. Without even knowing it, he wrote the last sentence of his essay; smiling victoriously as he picked the essay up and flipped through the sheets of writing. He gave them a quick scan, reading it briefly to make sure everything looks alright before he slipped his essay back into his folder.
He had started to pack his books up when he spotted the clear look of confusion that was splashed across the face of the girl opposite from him. For some reason she reminded him of a kitten, and for a brief moment he just wanted to reach over to gently squish her cheeks in his hands. Instead he gave into his smaller temptation; gently kicking her slipper clad foot with one of his own to grab her attention. “Need some help with that?”
The younger girl gave him an embarrassed smile as she nods, rubbing the back of her head softly as she glances back at her textbook. “I wouldn’t mind...it’s just - I’ve been reading over the same chapter for a few days now, but I just don’t understand anything.” She admitted with a tired sigh as she hangs her head a little, sporting what looks to be a soft pout of frustration that caused Gojo’s heart to skip a beat at how adorable she looked. Wordlessly Gojo got up, grabbing his seat from his end of the table as he made his way towards her.
Settling down beside her, he leaned closer to scan over the page of the textbook, a memory jostling in the back of his mind at the same lesson he took back in his first year. “Oh, I remember this. I can help you if you want.”
“Really?” The younger girl said with an curious look as she glanced back at the man seated beside her, Gojo widening his eyes when he realised just how close their faces were. He can feel her soft breath against his cheek, and what smelt like mint coming from parted lips. This caused him to blush as he hid his widened eyes behind his sunglasses, wondering how the hell was she not outwardly reacting at how close their faces were. “Y-Yeah. I mean, I’ve already finished my work...I don’t mind killing some free time helping you.”
The girl gave him a grateful smile before she rubs the back of her neck gently, feeling a soft flush appearing on her cheeks that caused Gojo to stare shamelessly. “Thank you, senpai. If you need anything from me after this, don’t hesitate to ask.” She offered shyly as she glances over at Gojo, who blinked before he decided to take his opportunity. “A-Actually, there is something you can help me with.” Gojo admitted after he took a deep breath to steel his resolve, but the tone of his voice was still far too shy for how the third year.
His words caused the girl beside him to cast him a curious glance
“Would you maybe...be interested on going on a date with me?” He asks her, biting his lip a little as he stared at her from behind his sunglasses. For a brief moment the girl just blinked at him before her face suddenly blossomed in a deep shade of red, her hands coming up to slap over her warm cheeks as she stared at him with wide eyes. “M-Me?”
A shy nod was given before Gojo awkwardly glances down at his lap as well, rubbing the back of his neck with one of his hand whilst the other rested on the desk before them; anxiously tapping against the wood. “Y-Yeah.” He mumbles in a soft voice, and for a few moments there was silence that caused Gojo’s heart to beat painfully against his chest.
Screw whoever says that facing a Special Grade Curse would be terrifying - Gojo feels like he might just die from the anxiety of asking someone out for something as simple as a date.
He was about to start babbling about some random reason as to why when he heard her shy answer. “I-I mean...I wouldn’t mind going out on a date with you...”
Cue short-circuited Gojo once more.
“O-Oh.” Gojo spluttered out with wide eyes, having not expected for her to agree so readily as she gave him a shy smile, her face still dusted in a light shade of red as she nodded her. Her answer caused him to smile, biting his lip a little to stop his face from splitting open in a huge grin as he tilts his head a little. “Does 5pm tomorrow sound alright for you?” He asks her quietly, to which she grins softly and nods her head, her action causing her hair to fall over her face in perfect waves; the action causing Gojo’s already poor heart to do another flip in his chest. “We can meet up at the front of the school.”
With a final nod and another shy smile shared between the two, both of them returned to the work that hand. However there was a certain atmosphere between the two; the slightly excitement that was clearly on their faces at the idea of their date tomorrow, the light bumping of shoulders as Gojo reaches over to point at something as he explained it to the girl quietly, soft comments that leads to soft giggles and the shy glances they both share. The soft smiles on their faces sealing the scene for anyone to walk past to know that there was definitely something brewing between the two
Who knew all it took was a simple complement to land them where they are today.
© roscgcld — all rights reserved to me, rose, the author and creator of these works. do not repost/translate/claim my work as yours on any platform
#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen fluff#jujutsu kaisen imagines#jjk#jjk imagines#jjk fluff#gojo satoru x you#satory gojo#gojo satoru x reader#gojo#gojo x reader#gojo x you#jjk satoru#satoru#satoru x reader#gojo satoru fluff
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HI! HOPE U HADE AN AMAZING DAY TODAY😊!!
Could you do one where your three children are teaching you and Harry to do a TikTok dance? (Or maybe just Harry)
And the next thing you know it goes viral?
this is too cute i’ll cry :( i’m going to continue to write with the same children characters so Oliver, Felix and Isabella. in this one Oliver is 16, Felix is 14 and Isabella is 11.
ok so imagine it’s a rainy saturday afternoon.
The rain had been most unforgiving today. It was coming down in bath loads. As much as you loved listening to the rain at night as it sent you to sleep, you hated it when it meant you couldn’t go and fulfil adventures with your kids. Especially this Saturday in particular since it was Harry’s first day off in a long while. You all had plans to visit a nearby castle and were going to take a picnic to have out, but the weather had other plans for you.
Instead, you’d spent the day inside and all cuddling together whilst watching movies. Each of your children were allowed to pick out a movie; Oli chose Fast and Furious 8, Fix chose Thor: Ragnarok and Belles chose Moana. Harry didn’t allow Belles watch Fast and Furious because it was quite graphic and contained bad language, so you and her went to make cookies for later.
It was now later.
“Ok who wants cookies?” You shouted to the boys in the other room, who you could hear had finished up their movie.
Belles and you had spent the last few hours baking your cookies. An assortment had been made; raspberry and white chocolate, raisin and oat and dark chocolate and orange. They were the three flavours that your family loved the most so they were always the ones you ended up baking.
You pulled out five glasses along with the milk you’d kept cool in the fridge. The Styles family absolutely loves cookies with milk, it was your guilty pleasure. It had started as a tradition when Oli was little and you’d just carried it on ever since. The way the warm cookies melted away like butter in your mouth and then downed with refreshing creamy milk was absolute bliss. It was a treat like no other.
“No you do it like this!” Flix stated, but about what you had no idea.
“What are you on about? It’s like this!” Oli challenged his brother, making you really curious as to what was going on as they approached the kitchen.
“Both of you are no help.” Harry finished the conversation, playfully hitting them on the backs of their heads as they entered the kitchen. It never failed to surprise you how tall your sons were in comparison to Harry. You were little in comparison, well apart from your little Belle. They were the spitting image of their dad and you couldn’t believe how alike they both looked, regardless of their 2 year age gap.
“What’s the fuss for?” You asked your boys, as you poured and handed Belle a cup of milk. She grabbed it with two hands and drank carefully, as Harry passed her and stroked his hand over his daughters hair once - out of habit.
“Trying to teach dad this TikTok dance, but he’s absolutely useless!” Oli laughed, seating himself at the kitchen island and Flix sitting next to him.
“Yeah only ‘cause you’re a crap teacher!” Flix playfully shoved his brother, who rolled his eyes at him.
“Oi.” Harry warned, not wanting the bad language to be picked up by Belle. You and Harry didn’t mind you sons swearing, as long as they weren’t too harsh words, but as long as it was only in front of just you two.
Don’t tell Grandma Styles this though.
“Sorry.” Flix held up his hands in surrender, pouring himself a glass of milk and then one for his brother.
“Mummy? Can I have a cookie now please?” She sweetly asked. You helped her up and onto the kitchen counter, next to the plate of gooey cookies. It didn’t take long for Harry to walk over and protectively stand in front of his daughter in case she fell off the side.
“Let’s see this dance again then, Ol.” Harry requested, Oli picking up his phone with a cookie wedged in his mouth and turning it around to show him. You had a little look for yourself too and laughed at the fact that Harry didn’t understand how to do it. It was a simple little dance to ‘Still the One’ by One Direction, which resulted in two people making a heart with their arms. It was so cute and simple and yet Harry was so uncoordinated.
“Oh you are such a plank.” You laughed, referring to how he was as solid as a piece of wood when he attempted to follow the moves on the screen.
It was making Belle laugh though, so it was worth watching your husband wiggle around like a jelly bean on fire.
“Hey, why are you laughing little miss?” Harry pretended to be offended, but could never actually be. He loved his little girl too much.
“Mum you try it with me.” Oli suggested, setting up his phone and coming around to meet you. You were pretty confident that you’d got the hang of it already.
The screen counted down from 3, 2, 1 and then you were copying the actions you’d just learnt. Flix could be seen hovering in the background watching you two ace the dance moves, whilst Harry could be seen devoting his attention to his daughter who had got crumbs all around her face.
“Go mum!” Flix hooted as you finished, joining you and Oli to watch back the video. You laughed at certain points and pointed out certain bits which were off.
“See dad, mum just gets it.” Oli said once you’d finished watching the video, returning to finish the rest of his cookie. Flix finished the rest of his milk before putting it in the sink for you to clean later.
“Alright, let’s me and y’mum have a go then.” Harry suggested, “Flix, watch Belles on there please.” He sternly ordered, not wanting any casualties unless it was him poking himself in the eye from dancing - which was highly likely.
Oli set up the phone again and pressed the countdown once more. Oli stood back with his siblings and laughed happily when he watched his sister trying to join in.
“Go Belle!” Oli cheered, making you turn around to see the commotion between the siblings. It was a blessed sight to watch.
“Oi focus on me, missus. Know they’re cute but focus.” Harry caught your attention as he finished his little dance segment, before you had to follow. You had no idea whether Harry had done it correctly, but you didn’t care it was just fun to be silly and young with him again.
Once you were finished you all laughed as you watched it back, especially as you focused in on the determination on Harry’s face. He’d actually aced it, which he looked awfully smug about.
He’d hold that over you all forever, now.
“Dad can I post these?” Oli asked. He had quite a large following on TikTok, even without posting content containing his dad in. He liked to keep his dad and his relationship quite private - because it was really special to him - so of course Harry welcomed the idea of people getting a slight glimpse of the Styles’ relationships.
You didn’t, however, expect the videos to blow up so much to the point where it became the most liked video on TikTok, talked about on almost every talk show and start a trend on twitter of #StylesforStrictly.
#harry styles#harry styles x reader#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x y/n#harry styles fanfiction#finelinevogue#finelinevogue harry styles#harry blurb#harry oneshot#harry styles concept#harry styles family blurb#finelinevogue blurbs#ask harry styles#ask finelinevogue#kissmyaxe140#harry styles tiktok#harry x family reader#harry tiktok challenge
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I have 38 minutes before valentines is officially over for me so here are the brothers
Warning: slight NSFW
THE BROTHERS and valentine’s day
Lucifer:
Although he thinks the day is ridiculous because why is there just one day to worship the most important person in his life? He still goes all out. Now, he won’t be as extreme as Diavolo, but do expect a very nice package in your room with a very (expensive) elegant dress/suit that will match his outfit perfectly. Of course, you’ll be going out to Ristorante Six or any human restaurant he deemed extravagant enough. Upon arrival, he’ll be sure to top off your outfit with the matching jewelry and a bottle of the best wine you’ll have ever tasted. Lucifer is nothing short of class and he’ll be sure to treat you like royalty the whole evening. Don’t even think about lifting a finger, because he has it all covered. To top it off, of course, he leads you into his candle lit room, rose petals covering the floor, and champagne at your disposal, although he’s hoping for the more adult activities before you open the bottle to celebrate.
“I refuse to celebrate Valentine’s without making you mine, first.”
Mammon:
Ah shit, that was today? Lol he’s going to pretend that he forgot and he’s so good at it that you’ll believe it up until the very end. Before you even have the chance to wallow in self pity inside your room while angry tears are streaming down your face, he’ll show up in his best suit and a deep blush on his cheeks. He won’t be taking you out, no. Instead, he prepared a nice meal himself, after begging Barbatos to teach him how. Is it the best? Eh, Barbatos still makes it better, but it comes from the heart. He wants it to come from the heart. What’s the point of Valentine’s if you’re not the one spoiling your significant other? Don’t worry, he has other, after dinner things planned as well.
“I ain’t tryna get too sappy… but I love ya, MC.”
Leviathan:
Oh he dreaded this day so much. He’s not romantic or talented in anything particular. Hell, he can barely remember to kiss you back on most days! But he knew he needed to do something for you. Going out was out of the question, so he decorated his room a bit. He put up some Valentine decorations, blew up some balloons, and made some heart-shaped cookies that he decorated extra well. One of them has your guys’ initials on it with heart shaped sprinkles around. He’s both proud and embarrassed of that one. The main gift, though, is a scrap book he put together of all you guys’ adventures together as of now. Pictures, quotes, inside jokes… they’re all saved in this book. Other than that, he really just hopes to take an easy day with you. Maybe some romantic anime and some much needed cuddling.
“You’re my Ruri-chan, MC.”
Satan:
Satan is a little old school, but he’s also playful. First, he has a scavenger hunt planned out for you. Follow the notes, solve the riddles, and at the end you’ll find an outfit just for you. Sleek and nice, but not over the top expensive or too elegant. He still wants you to be comfy. Inside the outfit, he’ll ask you to come back to his room where he’ll have a romantic candle lit dinner set up with your favorite foods and soft music playing in the background; you’ll notice that these are your favorite songs. After you sit down, he’ll put a necklace around your neck; heart shaped with your guys’ names engraved. He made it himself with some magic so it truly is one of a kind. The night can go however you want it to, although he does have some lingerie/more revealing outfits he’d like for you to try…
“Happy Valentine’s Day, kitten. Let’s enjoy the evening, just us two.”
Asmodeus:
The minute you wake up, Asmo makes it all about you. First, he’ll take you to a spa day. Full body massages, facials, manicure and pedicure, and of course, a nice hair-do that will come in handy later. Well, not really. It’ll probably be trashed later haha. Of course, he’s sure to take you shopping as well to pick your outfit. A tight suit? A flowy dress? Definitely some thigh highs for your later activities! Don’t think this night will end in just cuddling. He’ll take you out for dinner, although he made sure to prepare the dessert himself, which you will be able to eat either off of him or he off of you. What do you say?
“You’re blushing, MC…. is this embarrassing for you?”
Beelzebub:
Like Levi, he actually dreaded this day. He’s confused on what to do. Isn’t he supposed to show his love, like, always, every day? He opts for the bouquet of roses and a nice dinner at Ristorante Six. Of course, he ordered their whole menu but he’s actually waiting for you to take everything you want before he ever thinks about digging in. Then, he’d love to dance with you, at which point he apologizes for being unprepared, but really, could you hate this guy for it? He still managed to get you a nice, silver infinity bracelet that will look beautifully on your wrist, although he feels like you deserve so much more. You are a god/dess after all. How you want this night to end is up to you, but just so you know, he does have chocolate sauce and strawberries ready in his room for you.
“I’m still hungry, but it’s a different kind…”
Belphegor:
He’ll prank you. Not badly, just… he’ll sleep through most of the day, or so you think. What he’s really doing is setting up the attic with fairy lights and rose petals. He’ll get a TV just so you can watch romantic movies together. The pillows will be fluffed and a pile of blankets will be ready for you to hide in, or build a blanket fort with, that’s up to you. Before all that, though, he’ll spill his true feelings for you under the stars, dragging you out onto the roof through the window and making sure you’re nice and secure in his arms, where you belong. It may not be extravagant, or even what you wanted, but he hopes you find comfort in his efforts anyway. Take out?
“You shine brighter than any of these stars… I love you.”
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me scenarios#cheys headcanons#asmodeus obey me#belphegor obey me#mammon obey me#obey me lucifer#leviathan obey me#satan obey me#obey me beelzebub
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Coming Out [Poly! Erasermic x {Fem}Reader]
Hello! this was a requested fic from like before Christmas. I'M A MESS I KNOW I'M SORRY! I’ll be catching up at some point, I'm in my final sem at uni and have MAJOR senioritis. Me no do unless me have to. Instead, now I just spend my time staring at the existential abyss the threatens to swallow my ceiling and think about everything I'm procrastinating. But I digress...
Content Warning: This story is of a negative experience coming out as poly to your family, this deals with rejection from the reader's mother, father, and a grandparent. This story demonstrates Homophobia, xenophobia, traditionalist and conservative values and attitudes and may be triggering to some folks.
This story includes a Polyamorous relationship
Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.
Word Count: 3.7 K (A baby story)
Y/N --- 4:06pm
Hey can my roomates come to dinner?
DAD --- 4:06
You mean the gays?
Y/M --- 4:08
Please don’t call them that. Neither of them are gay anyways, there’s more than just gay or straight.
DAD --- 4:10
Yeah whatever. Let your mom decide.
MOM --- 5:12
Sure, they can come.
Mom --- 5:23
Gma might be coming dinner tho. Maybe talk to them?
That conversation should have been enough of a warning for how the evening was going to transpire. At news of your grandmother attending dinner, you panicked and tried to back out of your plans. You had been growing steadily farther apart from your parents anyways, barely seeing them more that once a year if that. It’s not like they didn’t have their suspicions anyways, to them you were a single woman living in the big city sharing an apartment with two gay men. Not that they’d ever been to the apartment. If they had they might have notice that one of the two “bedrooms” was being used as an office. Earlier on in the relationship you were so deeply uncomfortable being around your parents alone, that you had Shouta come with you every visit because you were so paranoid you were just going to come out on the spot.
At first your parents were sure that you and Shouta were together. He had subconsciously cleaned up quite nice the first few times he met your parents anyways, wanting to make a good impression on them if you finally did tell them about your polyamorous relationship. Then as time went on you got busier and started to see them less. Shouta’s parents lived in the suburbs and you saw them on holidays, plus Shouta had come out to them as being bisexual a long time ago and hadn’t felt much pressure to hide the polyamorous nature of your relationship to begin with. Hizashi’s mom was still a city dweller in her 60’s and on top of doing the cute mom things like baking fantastic cookies and handing down family jewelry to the daughter in law, she’d also taken Hizashi and Shouta to their first pride in Tokyo and had an in-home recording studio where she recorded for local punk bands. She was, quite literally, a cool mom.
You gnawed vigorously at your thumbnail, not quiet biting the whole way through, instead riddling it with dents and cracks. Chewing your nails wasn’t a habit you’d always had, it became a sort of silent worry thing you started to do when you got to your agency and had to remain still and quiet during briefings, no matter how terrible the news was. Your ruined nail beds were an atrocity to Hizashi, who had paid several times for you to get a manicure to get your nails short and evenly trimmed so you could manage them on your own. You still somehow found a way to gnaw on the short squared off nubs of your nails though, and it drove him nuts. Shouta cared less, his hands were in ridiculous shape, he was callused and bruised, cracked and flaking all over the place and Hizashi would regularly force moisturizer on them. Shouta cared more about figure out the root stress, it’s not that Hizashi didn’t, he just didn’t know how to, so he settled for pampering you.
“It’s dead.” Hizashi huffed from the bedroom door. “Obliterated, actually.”
“Hmm?” You looked up from your phone, you hadn’t been reading any of the messages in the chat for a good few minutes and just let your eyes unfocus instead. You yanked your thumb from your mouth and hid it below the table like a child caught with a sweet they’d snuck from the kitchen before dinner, you knew he saw.
“Your nail.” Hizashi gently patted the end of his hair with his special fluffy towel that he’d convinced you and Shouta he needed to control his frizz (which he didn’t have) and padded towards the kitchen table where you sat. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as he strode around you.
“What’s up, love?” he murmured softly, leaning against the table next you. One of his legs propped up on the chair to your right and leaned down to look at your phone screen.
“This is going to go horribly.” You breathed, panicked as you set your phone down on the table.
“You don’t know that.” Hizashi looked back up at you and smiled sweetly.
“Not everyone’s mom is a cool rocker lady in her 60’s who lives in the heart of downtown still and is fully supportive of her child’s bisexual polyamorous relationship with their childhood best friend and an ex-small-town girl with an ultra-conservative family.” You huffed out in one long breath.
“That was oddly specific.” He chuckled softly. “What about Sho’s parents, they’re conservative?”
“Yeah, but his parents are at least polite and send us both Christmas gifts every year and keep any and all of their shittier opinions to themselves because they want their son to be happy.” You groaned dramatically, dropping your head onto his thigh, using the extra meat to muffle the noise.
“Y-your-” Hizashi’s leg twitched from the vibrations of your groan. “Your parents want you to be happy too, Y/n.”
You groaned into his thigh, trying to explain the difference between your parent’s and Shouta’s. Hizashi laughed and gently grabbed the side of your face, lifting it so you were no longer muffled by his leg.
“Try again.” He instructed.
“They only want me to be happy if it fits into their rigid frame of what acceptable happiness looks like.” You explained again.
“Hey,” Hizashi ran his thumb back and forth across your cheek, “have faith, baby. They’re your family, they love you.”
If only he’d been right.
Shouta was the know it all, the one that way always right. Hizashi on the other hand was quiet used to being the one that was not always right, he had no hubris about his intelligence what-so-ever. So much so that sometimes you and Shouta had to remind him that he was intelligent and offered a lot of knowledge and wisdom in many many ways: public speaking, social relationships, radio scripting, he spoke two languages fluently as well. However, this one-time Hizashi wished dearly that he had been right, that he was an insufferable know it all who never got it wrong. It was a different twisted feeling in his gut, sitting the back seat watching you try to keep it together in the front seat, than the usual mild embarrassment that faded after a couple of minutes when he was wrong about something. That was damn near luxurious compared to the painful knot tearing into his stomach.
The silence in the car was so dense and absolute that it almost physically gagged Hizashi and Shouta, the two of them were too afraid to say anything and break it. It felt as though the heavy silence was keeping you from breaking, as if it were applying enough pressure at all sides to keep the thin veneer of composure you were managing together. You felt it too, along with the heavy weight that was nearly crushing your chest, the thick doughy lump clogging your throat and the tremble in your lips. You took a deep breath, it getting caught halfway and freezing in to an unrealized sob that you pushed down.
Shouta huffed and pulled off to the side of the dark country road, slowing into the gravelly shoulder. He turned in his seat to face you, undoing his seat belt so he could fully turn his body. You kept your eyes out the window, trying with all your might not to let the tears that clouded your eyes to fall. You knew you’d need to cry about this, about your parents and their conditional love. You knew that this was something you would need to deal with, but you didn’t want to at this moment. You wanted to go home, take some sleeping medication and go to sleep, you wanted to wait until the open wound in your chest had stopped bleeding to begin treating it.
Your father was being facetious about your living arrangement as usual, whenever he was faced with Shouta and Hizashi his first reaction was to constantly point out that fact that you were a woman living with two men and that if they weren’t gay that one of them should have married you by now. Shouta and Hizashi had taken these comments like water rolling off of a duck’s back, Hizashi even grinned and mumbled something about your father tempting him. You could have kept your mouth shut, you could have kept your cool but Shouta’s hand was brushing against your thigh and you felt it tense into an annoyed fist. Something about Shouta’s minimal reaction lit a fire in you, more like an explosion. It was a surge of very sudden and very ferocious courage that lasted a split second and no longer. You’d practically shouted it, the ringing in your ears drowning whatever words you’d used out.
You were met with complete and utter silence, shock and fear thick in the air. You’d almost believed for a moment that you hadn’t done it, that you’d just shouted randomly and just scared everyone. But then your dad stood up, his shocked open mouth flattening out into a hard straight line, this jaw swelling as he clenched it.
“W-what?” he growled, stepping back from the table as if you were a threat.
You were ready to backtrack, you were so ready to just laugh and pretend you were fucking with him. But you spared a glance to Shouta and Hizashi, their faces pale and guilty. They, regardless of what you could say in an attempt to cover up what you’d just said, were basically admitting to it already. You instinctively shrunk back into your chair like you’d do when you were younger at the dinner table whenever something uncomfortable would come up. You could tell everyone was at a loss for words, the difference was that you were scared and at a loss for words, Shouta and Hizashi were shocked and at a loss for words and your father was steaming angry and at a loss for words.
Your mother, who had always been the least confrontational of the two turned away from you and almost in a show of disgust immediately went to comfort your grandmother. It was as if you were an afront to goodness, an act of moral atrocity being committed in front of them. Your father began to barrage you with passive aggressive questions and accusations towards Shouta and Hizashi. He was trying to understand while at the same time refusing to give you a chance to explain. You stopped listening after the first few sentences that came out of his mouth, falling back into an internal monologue filled with regret. He must have said something exceptionally terrible because in an instant Shouta was standing, his arm reaching out to separate you from him and he was shouting. Shouta never shouted, he barely voiced any form of annoyance or frustration in general when it wasn’t a learning moment for his students, but here he was on his feet volleying harsh word with your father.
Hizashi, you realized was attempting damage control, his hands raised and his voice lower than either of the other two men’s. You blinked back into the present, as noise filled your ears, you mother was crying, your father and Shouta were shouting and Hizashi was rambling panicked. You took a couple of deep breaths and stood up on shaky legs, gripping Shouta’s protective arm for support, and looked your father in the eyes. He faltered at the direct eye contact and you saw an opening where there was less shouting to contend with.
“Stop,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “this is why I never wanted to tell you! Why I was perfectly okay with living away from you guys for the rest- This is why I haven’t been home.”
Your mother gasped a ragged, tear-filled breath. She’d expressed before that she’d wished she could see you more often, that she’s noticed you’d been coming home less and less. You’d been good at covering it up, saying you were busy with work and simply couldn’t get the time off. You knew that what you’d just said hurt her, not in the way it should have. It hurt her because you’d just told them it was their fault that you felt unwelcomed here and not because you were afraid of your own parents.
“How long?” she breathed.
“Three years.” You sniffed, hand tightening around Shouta’s wrist.
“THREE?! THR-” your father bellowed in disbelief. “For three years they’ve been brainwashing and forcing themselves on you?!”
Suddenly you understood why Shouta had leapt up, you had just now caught up with the conversation. Red hot anger flared up in your chest, the mere insinuation that you were being forced in anyway to be with your partners filled you with utter rage.
“No!” You growled, for the first time in your life matching your father’s volume. “For three years they’ve been by my side, showing up at the hospital when I got hurt at work, celebrating my promotions at the agency, helping me make a home that I feel safe in and actually fucking caring about me!”
There was silence again, this one was thin but not light in anyway, like it was a delicate thread barely holding a great weight from falling and crushing you.
“We care for you.” You mother said darkly.
“No,” you swallowed hard, “you haven’t for a long time.”
“Get out.” You father growled.
Hizashi was already moving, grabbing your coats from the back of the chairs and pulling Shouta by the arm away from the table. It took you a good long second to move, even then it was because Shouta latched onto your shoulders and Hizashi tugged him along.
“I’m sorry.” Shouta whispered, his hand finding yours in your lap. You kept your eyes focused out the window at the pitch-black fields with barely visible for off golden dots of light. You couldn’t talk.
You heard Hizashi shuffling around in the back seat, scooting closer to you and his hand joined Shouta’s, pulling up onto the storage compartment between the seats. It was cracking, that veneer.
“It’s not your fault.” Hizashi murmured.
You sniffed hard, biting int you bottom lip. Of course, it wasn’t your fault that your parents didn’t accept you, that you weren’t good enough or right for them, that you weren’t on par with the apparent morality of the rest of the family. It wasn’t your fault that they were backwards people with terrible ideas of how a person should be. It still didn’t hurt any less that you couldn’t meet those backwards ideals, that you couldn’t be the right kind of person for them.
“Y/n,” Shouta whispered, gently grabbing your chin and turning your face towards them.
They were looking at you the way a mother looks at her crying baby in the first few months, the desperate need to connect and nurture glowing in their eyes. They were filled with worry, with pity, with understanding but also, with fear. No doubt, what had just happened had been traumatic for them too. Looking into their emotion filled eyes you felt that veneer shatter, falling away and unleashing that mournful sobbing that had been trapped inside.
Shouta pulled you towards him, holding you firmly to his chest placing his head atop yours. You vaguely felt Hizashi disappear from you for a moment, but you were too preoccupied with the trembling muscles seizing violently in your chest. Then you felt him sliding in behind you, only now realizing he’d stepped out of the car and slide in through your door as he shut it behind him. He draped himself over you rubbing circles into your back.
“It’s not your fault.” He murmured into your hair over and over again.
At first you didn’t really focus on it, thinking it idle words of comfort but the more he said the more it sunk in. The more your realized that you were holding onto the hope that there was something about this, about you, that you could fix. With every repetition of those four words that false hope chipped away and that heavy weight in your chest began to fall away. It was still painful, it still felt like you had a pen festering wound that you’d never fully heal from, but it also felt lighter. It felt as though a burden you’d believed was yours to bear was suddenly the responsibility of the many.
“You don’t have to change,” Shouta whispered softly as your sobs ebbed into weak beaths, “they do.”
That reignited some tears, to hear what you needed to said so plainly. Shouta was good at that, putting those intangible thoughts and feelings into plain words. You cried until the tears and the worry and the late hour caught up with you, until your head felt heavy and waterlogged and you slumped backwards into Hizashi sniffing. You cried until your wavering breaths evened out and your tired mind fell to silence. Hizashi pulled you into his lap and cradled you against him like a parent holding and oversized child, running his hand slowly through your hair.
When you awoke you were swaddled thoroughly with the fuzzy blanket from the couch Shouta hated because it shed and sandwiched between the two men who snored away. As you blinked in the early morning light that just barely peaked through the blinds you noticed the red rims around Hizashi’s eyes and deep-set circles under Shouta’s as if they both been awake all night. Shouta was still in his dress shirt and Hizashi had stripped down to his boxers and pulled his hair back into a sloppy bun. Neither were properly snoring which told they hadn’t been asleep for very long.
You tried to ignore what had happened last night, what had led to the heavy feeling in your head and crusty dry eyes and tight cheeks. You tried to pretend that they had stayed up for work, that they you had swaddled yourself up in the blanket nor because you were sad but because you just wanted to be cozy. Then you heard a phone vibrate on the nightstand and any and all work towards denial washed away as you dreaded checking it. It could just be a work thing, it could be Hizashi’s phone even though he’d never had it on silent even once since you’ve known him. It could have been Shouta’s vibrating against the wooden table even though you could see his slightly peeking out of his back pocket.
You sighed and sat up, daring the smallest of glances at the nightstand. It was your phone screen that was lit up, several notifications on the screen. You groaned and laid back down, scrunching your eyes shut begging for sleep to suddenly and miraculously take you. It buzzed again and you huffed. Fine. You’ll check it. I guess someone could be dying. I do stop that from happening for a living.
You very cautiously crawled over Hizashi and reached to get your phone, electing not to look at it until you settled back between your boys. You scrolled though your notifications, weather, news, a work email, a second email from a contact that made your blood run cold and three missed calls and two answering machine messages from the same contact. Grandma. Your hands trembled at you unlocked your phone and typed int your voicemail password. You held the phone up to you ear and listen to the first message which was more or less just some frustrated grandma noises and mumbles about the inconvenience of technology, followed briefly by a set of hellos. If you hadn’t been ready to shit yourself, you’d have laughed. Then the second played and you had to take a deep breath to hold yourself together enough to keep listening.
“Hello? Hello? Y/n? Oh shi- well this is just ridiculous. Y/n, I don’t know if you can hear me, or maybe this is your answering machine, I don’t know I can’t hear too well but-” her soft worn voice said into the phone, “I want you to know that I love you. Your parents love you too, even if they did not act like it tonight.”
She paused and your eyes welled up with tears, a lump forming in your throat. It was this strange feeling of pure sadness but also happiness and relief.
“Those boys,” she continued, “probably would have killed your father last night if they had the chance. I’m not saying I get it, but they sure do love you, sweetheart. I quite like the blond one he is very-”
The message cut off and the automated voice asked you what you wanted to do with the message. All you could do was laugh, laugh and cry. You were still sad, still in pain, but it was already starting to feel less life-ending.
“Hey,” Shouta mumbled blearily, “S’okay. I’m here.”
He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, trying to pull himself from sleep. You hugged him back and massaged the back of his scalp gently.
“Listen to this.” You sniffed.
He nodded and you pressed repeat, listening to the whole second message through again. You watched as a smile spread across his sleepy lips and he laughed softly. He pouted suddenly when it ended, his eyebrows pulling together as much as his drowsy state would let them.
“What?” you asked, worried he’d heard something you‘d missed.
“Why does she like Zash more?” he grumbled, barely awake now.
You smiled and curled into him, electing not to answer knowing that he wouldn’t like being told that Hizashi is more sociable than him. Besides, you smiled to yourself, he’d be asleep in a matter of seconds.
You were still hurt; you still had that big open wound in your chest. But with Shouta and Hizashi at your side you knew you’d heal; you knew they’d give you anything you needed. You knew that your grandmother was right, that these two boys loved you very much.
#polyerasermic#eraserhead#erasermic#erasermic x reader#present mic#present mic x reader#present mic x aizawa#eraserhead x reader x present mic#eraserhead x reader#reader insert#bnha#mha#myhero#my hero academia#my hero fanfic#bnha fanfiction#y/n x mha#y/n x bnha
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