a/n: this came to me in a dream, literally!! small matteo diaz x reader moment up in here :p this is kinda a remake of one of my older fics but nawtt really.
dennis “it’s okay, I can fight.” whitaker who doesn’t worry about what you wear. the bar is loud, noisy and packed. bodies pressed together tightly shifting together as one mass due to the limited space. it’s humid, sweat evaporating into the air from writhing bodies mixing with the smell of stale alcohol and smoke. giving the space a distinctly unique odor whether the smoke is from cigarettes or weed dennis wouldn’t be able to tell you.
maybe the slight cigarette smell is from him though, he having just gotten in from smoking one with trinity not too long ago.
it’s heavy, the air oppressive to the inhabitants that reside within. it’s your classic college student dive bar, cheap drinks. mysteriously sticky floors and trendy music, lights down low. bathing the surrounding area in dark hues of dim blue and red.
the booths are made of cracked green leather while the tables are covered in aged sharpie doodles. old phone numbers, crude drawings and random symbols. dennis eyes trace over them from where he sits against the less than comfortable seat. cracking a small smile at some of the phrases.
he’s the bench warmer and designated driver for tonight, losing the childish game of rock paper scissors to frank when it came to the question of who would watch all the personal belongings. he’s certain thinks the man cheated.
his gaze drifts to the dance floor, eyes flitting around before landing on you. dolled up in your tiniest skirt and flowiest low cut top, he tilts his head as he takes you in. a warm flood of pride rushing through his chest as he takes in the details of you. he’s seen you multiple times tonight but every-time his eyes lay on you, it feels like the first. the way your shimmery body oil that he helped you apply earlier that night catches the light. making you glow golden beneath them, how your legs look longer due to the pretty strappy heels you wear. adorned with the cutest flowers positioned right over your french tipped-toes.
your ass peeks ever so slightly out of the bottom of your skirt as your hips sway to the beat of the music. in a naturally energetic display. even though he knows he’d only be making a fool of himself if he were to be up there with you. him having the definition of two left feet—he can’t help but wish he could be beside you with a hand on your hip so he could be close, to ground himself rather than you.
you’re so pretty, the absolute definition of the word. he doesn’t even realize he’s grinning like a fool until matteo is suddenly snapping a finger in his face.
dennis blinks up at the man eyes flickering from you to him then back again before settling on the body in front of him.
“shit, yeah—yea I’m okay. sorry what were you—what’s up?” his voice is rushed, flustered. a dull pink thats thankfully not visible due to the shadow of the bar. spreading to his cheeks as he stares at his coworker with a look not unlike a kid who’s been caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
“I asked if you could hand me my jacket.” he grins, finger pointed to the item that rests behind dennis. “what were you looking at?” matteo follows the brunettes earlier line of vision before his eyes land on you. letting out a low whistle as dennis quickly scrambles to grab the coat body turning while his head tries to stay angled towards you not wanting to keep his eyes off you for too long.
“damn I’d be staring too..” a swirl of something uncomfortable coils in dennis’s gut at the statement.
dennis wasn’t usually the jealous type, stable in himself, you and your relationship. but he can’t ignore how mildly annoying it is to have other men mull over your beauty. he’s prideful of you yes, loving to show you off and letting you show yourself off.
but he’s only a man at the end of the day and regretfully he gets those territorial urges once in a while.
a part of him hates it, because while you’re his. you’re not his, not a possession nor a right for him to claim. you’re a gracious soul allowing him to take up that special space beside you and he can’t help but be grateful for the opportunity.
“yeah she’s..gorgeous.” he says, it comes out wispy and strained. trying to sound stern but failing once you come to the forefront of his mind. melting his words down into something soft and docile. him turning to hand the jacket to the man in front of him. muttering a small “here.” earning a distracted “thanks.” in return.
“I don’t know how you do it man.”
both their eyes are now on you as they converse. gazes set on you. dennis’s on your bright glossy smile and matteo’s raking over your form.
“let her out looking like that, not saying you don’t trust her or anything. just asking if you’re not worried about other guys.”
“no I’m not..she’s her own person and she can handle herself. I’ll step in if it’s needed but I don’t wanna be..overbearing.” he shrugs taking his eyes off you for a moment. he never wanted to be that guy, the insecure boyfriend that guards their partner like a rabid dog. but he can’t help but chew his lip as he says the words. not quite believing himself.
he knows you’re beautiful. he knows people stare and as much as he tries. he just cannot be fully relaxed about it. no matter what he says.
“that’s..really cool of you man. couldn’t be me though, not with the way she looks. I’d be glued to her side for real.”
he hums, letting a noncommittal “yeah?”
there’s a lull in conversation for a beat, both men just watching silently. a tension in the air growing as dennis picks at his nails. eyes stil focused on you before they catch sight of a figure approaching you.
the tall sleazy type. bleach blonde hair, linen shirt unbuttoned, shorts baggy and cigarette tucked behind his ear as he slides up next to you. a grin on his disgustedly pale face.
it’s june. even dennis has a tan from the sun how has this prick managed to stay ghostly in these heated conditions. probably a testament to his lazy nature. sitting on his ass all day, the entitled type—not that dennis would know. he’s never seen this guy before.
he watches as the man gets your attention saying something that makes you face twist in annoyance. eyes rolling as you wave a nailed hand in his face effectively shooing him away with no doubt a sharp word on your tongue. den smiles for a minute at that before it turns to a scowl as the man becomes visibly angry hand coming up to grasp your wrist. victoria, who was beside you begins to yell at the guy while you try to yank your arm away.
then he’s up, slinking through the crowd muttering “sorry’s” and “excuse me’s” as he makes his way towards you. once your eyes find his you smile before it turns back into a frown as you tell the man to let you go.
dennis shoves his body between yours and the assholes. grabbing his arm and yours, his harsher as he—as gently as he can for your sake only— pries the man off of you.
“and who the fuck are you?”
the sleaze eyes dennis up and down condescendingly like he can’t believe what he’s seeing.
“her boyfriend? and you need to back up.”
dennis is calmer than he thought he’d be, trying not to lose his temper in hopes of de-escalating this situation smoothly and safely.
“fuck off. I don’t remember asking for your opinion. m’just makin’ friends isn’t that right baby?”
the guy looks back to you eyes low damn near undressing you with his eyes as you stand behind dennis. your hand intertwined with vic’s. 
“oh who are you! I ain’t your fucking friend. you’re up in here grabbing on me after I said no!” you fire back.
“not my fault you’re walking around looking like you’re asking for it! if I knew you’d be such a fucking bitch—“
“—hey. hey. you need to shut the fuck up and leave. she said no. she’s taken. get over it. what about that can you not understand?”
“I think all the bleach fried his brain, or what’s left of it.” you sneer.
anger festers from his shoulders to his neck heating him white hot from the inside out. jaw tightening as the man begins to lash more insults out at you. attempting to get closer to you and by proxy dennis. hand reaching out in what he assumes is a try in grabbing you again. but before he can close in he grabs the man by his thin overpriced shirt and cutting him clean across the jaw with his fist.
it happens so fast you can barely register it until you’re hearing a grunt and seeing the guy stumble back with a hand on his quickly bruising cheek. a trickle of blood making its way from his mouth.
comes a voice from somewhere behind you, sounded like frank but there’s no time to think on it as you watch the scene with wide eyes.
dennis frowns and shakes his fist, not out of pain but in disgust at the smear of red painting his knuckles. chest heaving as he stares at the guy eyes locked on him as he staggers back into standing up straight.
“you fucking— you hit me! we all saw that right? he hit me!”
dennis’s face is set, brows in a line as he sighs turning to grab your hand. he wants to stay, to teach the guy a rather deserved lesson. but he knows that wouldn’t end well, especially considering if the cops got involved. leading you away through the crowd and letting out a breath as the guy continues his fit of screeching, not following of course. all bark no bite. typical.
he brushes by the table, grabbing your purse and his jacket before walking you from the bar and out onto the street. making your towards his parked car, pulling you along with urgency. but being mindful enough of your heels so you’re not tripping over yourself.
the only sound being the distant commotion of the establishment. cars rolling down the road and the soft click of your shoes on the pavement.
once you both stand next to the passenger side door he runs a hand through his hair and down his face. slinging your purse over his shoulder, eyes softening once they land on your grinning face.
“what do you mean, what. that was.. that was something else denny.”
he sighs “m’sorry I—I didn’t even ask if you were alright. I just kinda stepped in—are you okay honey?” stepping closer he looks over your face a small frown on his lips in concern. at no sign of physical harm he pulls you into his arms. gently burying your face into the warmth of his shoulder.
you giggle wrapping your arms around his torso. “in a good way baby, it was hot..you getting all protective over me and I’m just fine thanks to my white knight over here.”
he huffs out a laugh, going to kiss your forehead but stopping once he sees your carefully sculpted edges. moving to kiss the top of your head softly instead.
“seriously?” he asks, clearly confused. not expecting you to be..actually he doesn’t even know how he thought you’d react.
“mhm, loved it. you look pretty when you’re mad. ‘I told you to back up’ my hero!” you mock sweetly. “no like I literally swooned, heart eyes and everything.”
pulling away he looks at you with a quirked brow and a lopsided smile on his face. gapped teeth on display as he blinks. your hands coming up to smooth over his chest.
“yeah? didn’t expect that.”
“why not, you shouldn’t have expected anything less from me. remember when you got jealous of robby calling me a ‘pretty piece of ass’ when you brought me ‘round for the halloween party?”
dennis scowls at the memory , eyes skeptical. “yes. I remember.”
“and you remember how I jumped you the second we got home when you told him to back off? so..?”
“fair point.” he begins to sway you in his arms a moment, still trying to calm himself down. leaning in to kiss you on the tip of your highlighted nose.
“would you also find it attractive if I hit that guy with my truck?” he mutters.
“like hit and run..or an over and under then back again?”
“oh I’d have to get down on one knee.”
“mm how about both?” he grins.
