cncohshit

[cncohshit]

Im barking

my hand is over my mouth

[cncohshit]

Luke’s smile is so precious

[cncohshit]

The After Party III

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Reader (f) x Mikko Rantanen

Summary: Your boyfriend's birthday twin is gone, but after a recent arrival in Raleigh, you have your sights set on a new friend to celebrate with.

Word Count: 7.9K

Warnings: Alcohol use. Smut (18+ ONLY). Threesome (MFM - no MxM), light choking, fingering (vaginal + anal - f receiving), oral sex (m + f receiving (vaginal)), unprotected sex, vaginal sex, anal sex (f receiving), double penetration. Mild exhibitionism, cumplay, degradation. **Please do your research before engaging in any sexual activity but especially anal sex. This is fiction and by no means any indication of how one should prepare. :)

Author's Note: Happy birthday, @smileysvech! This is becoming quite the birthday tradition, but I couldn't think of a more perfect gift to get you than that of a threesome with two gorgeous men. Thank you for your never ending support and friendship. Hope you enjoy your two big boys 😏 We had to switch things up and mess with the canon timeline a little bit — pretend the trade deadline hasn't happened or that Mikko never got traded, reader's choice.

← PREVIOUS PART ← BACK TO MAIN MASTERLIST

Mikko fidgets, glancing down at his crisp, white sneakers. He isn’t used to feeling like this, out of place and like a bit of an outsider.

It’s been a few weeks since he arrived in Raleigh, and everyone had been welcoming and friendly, from the players to the training staff to the media. He was grateful for it all, easing a break in his heart he hadn’t been given the time to heal from. The whole thing was such a whirlwind, from getting the call, to jumping immediately on a plane, to barely having time to get to know his new teammates before he was off to Montreal to play in the 4 Nations tournament.

Now, the newness has died off a bit, the reporters no longer asking him 8 million questions about settling into his new life in Raleigh, and he feels like he can finally get to work. He’s finally unpacked—mostly—and he’s memorized the drive from his apartment to the rink. He’s starting to build relationships with his teammates following an awkward warm-up period where he had to remember how to make friends.

So, here he is, at Andrei Svechnikov’s birthday party, doing his best to fit in. It isn’t working, he doesn’t think, feeling like he might as well be wearing a bright orange shirt with a sign that says, ‘I’m the new guy!’

And then he sees a girl, so beautiful it chases the air from his lungs. She’s across the room, a glass of white wine in her hand. She’s alone. And, due to the lack of glittering diamond on her left hand, he presumes that she’s single. Or, at least, she’s not married.

Mikko glances around—a girl like that can’t possibly be here alone—but everyone around is involved in another conversation. What’s more, is she doesn’t seem to feel uncomfortable; she holds herself with a poise and a grace that he wishes he could emanate. As if she can sense that they’re the only ones in the room who aren’t otherwise occupied, her eyes flick up to meet his, holding his gaze with a small smile on her lips.

After a brief internal introspection, he says fuck it and takes the few long strides across the room to her side. She offers a coy smile, then says, “You’re Mikko, right?”

He shuffles—she knows who he is?—and feels a flush creep up toward his cheeks. “Is that a problem?”

Her smile grows wider. “Not at all. Welcome to Raleigh.”

“Thanks,” he says. “Everything’s been great so far.”

“This is a good group,” she comments. “But I’m sure it’s still difficult to be uprooted from your home unexpectedly.”

Mikko nods in agreement, glad he didn’t have to say it and act like it was totally okay, because the truth is, it wasn’t. It’s part of the job, an abrupt move something that comes with the territory, but that doesn’t make it any easier, and he’s tired of pretending that it didn’t impact him. “Friendly people make it easier, though.”

She smiles. “Good thing there are lots of them here tonight.”

He hums a response, pausing for a moment to take a sip of his beer. His mouth opens to speak, to ask some questions and find out if she really is available, but before he can get the words out, someone is calling her name and she’s turning away. Damn.

She looks at him before she turns away, a smile on her face that makes his dick twitch. “Have fun tonight, Mikko.”

You’d chalked up the whole threesome thing as more of a one-time thing, an experience you’d only ever have with Andrei and Brady.

And then came Mikko Rantanen.

Tall, lithe muscle, tits more gorgeous than your own, dangerously charming dimples, and a deep, accented timber that rivaled your own boyfriend’s… It’s safe to say your crush on him has reached its boiling point.

Desire for him has steadily risen in you since he touched down in Raleigh. Andrei had understandably been crushed when his best friend was traded, and while he welcomed his new teammates with open arms, you decided it was best to keep your crush a secret, content to nurse it in private and let it fade on its own.

This year, without a birthday twin, Andrei’s birthday celebrations are more low key: a casual, come-as-you-please gathering at the house the two of you now call home. It’s your first time being a real hostess, ensuring snacks, food, and drink are plentifully stocked and that toilet paper in the bathroom is readily available. Fortunately, some of the more veteran wives have taken to helping you out in the kitchen, giving you some reprieve to mingle with your guests and your birthday boy.

Warm, brown eyes seek out yours from across the room, a toothy grin to match. He makes his way over to you and slips an arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. “Hi, solnyshka.”

“Hi, Drei,” you say, leaning into his warmth. “Having fun?”

He nods. “I can’t believe we’re having a party in our house.”

A smile forms on your face. You couldn’t, either; if someone had told you three years ago that you’d be buying and making a home with Andrei Svechnikov, you wouldn’t believe it. But here you are, standing in the house the two of you built together.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?” he murmurs. His voice has deepened, more husky than before.

“You have, but you could tell me again,” you say with a smile.

His hands snake further around your waist, pulling you closer to his frame. A low purr sends heat melting through your body, his lips ghosting over the shell of your ear. “You look gorgeous, lyubimaya.”

“Thank you, milyi.”

Andrei allows his lips to caress over the ties of your dress and the bare skin of your shoulder blade. “I think someone else thinks so, too.”

Confusion washes over you and your eyes scan the room. “What?”

“You have an admirer.”

As your eyes continue darting around the room, they finally catch on two blue ones looking at you. Their owner is standing near the window, a beer bottle dwarfed by a large hand. A bead of condensation trickles down the glass, vanishing beneath his fingertips. He looks edible.

Your brief interaction with him earlier had left you breathless, seeing how much of him there was up close for the first time. The gentle purr of his accent, the deep timbre of his voice, the soft presence he had when he gazed down at you; all of it had your pulse hitching in your throat, and you had to have a long chug of your wine in the pantry to get it to come back down.

You turn to look at Andrei. His eyes have gotten darker, and you can tell by the way his hand lingering on your hip what he’s implying.

“You mean…?”

His smile widens, sly and mischievous. “It’s birthday tradition.”

“But—but Brady’s gone.” A slight pang in your heart stings for a moment at the mention of your long lost comrade, and you know Andrei feels it too.

“You know I’ve always been good at sharing,” he says with a wink. “And what better way to bond with my new linemate?”

Your heart flutters at the suggestion, and you feel a twin flutter between your legs. Andrei must notice a change in your expression, for he’s licking his lips and leaning in closer, his voice dropping to a whisper. “I saw you flirting with him and just knew.”

“I wasn’t flirting—”

“Dorogoya, I watched you give that cute little laugh. I know it because you give it to me. You want to fuck the new guy.”

You don’t reply, because you can’t deny it. And Andrei knows it. There’s a flash of anxiety, of guilt, looking to him to search for any discontent or jealousy in his face. With Brady, things were different; they had a mutual understanding to respect the dynamic. But introducing someone else is something different entirely.

“Wouldn’t bring it up if I wasn’t okay with it,” he says, like he’s already thought about all of that. “I want it, too. I like sharing you. I like watching someone else enjoying my favorite thing.”

His words are emphasized with a subtle press of his half-hard erection against your ass. At the same time, you become aware of a large figure approaching you. When your head tilts up to meet its eyes, you’re met with the same blues you were gazing at across the room. His cologne is intoxicating, now that you’re so close to him.

“Happy birthday, Andrei.”

Beside you, your dimpled birthday boy grins and offers a hand to clap his back in a hug. “Thanks, man.”

Mikko’s eyes train on you next, and you feel heat rush to your cheeks under his attention.

“Hello again.”

Mikko has to laugh at himself. Trust him to get the hots for the girl who is probably the most off limits; the girlfriend of the man of the hour. His host.

But even after seeing his teammates arms wrapped around you, approached the two of you together and confirmed it, he can’t shake the feeling that you were definitely flirting with him. Even the way you look at him with those wide eyes, painted with innocence, something in him tells him that there’s more to this than meets the eye.

“Why don’t you go upstairs and get comfortable, solnyshka?” Andrei asks. Mikko watches you smile shyly before you’re nodding and ascending up the stairs.

Now alone, his face grows warm under Andrei’s scrutiny. Hitting on his teammate’s girlfriend, even if accidental, is the last thing he wants to do to fit in. “I’m sorry dude, I didn’t know.”

Andrei smiles. “I can’t say I blame you. I’d do the same damn thing. She’s a smokeshow.”

Mikko thinks he’s allowed to agree, so he nods and grins, offering an approving punch on his shoulder. “Fucking rocket, Svech. Good for you.”

“Thanks.” Andrei matches his grin. Then, “You interested?”

“Interested in what?”

“Her.”

“Am I… am I interested in your girl?”

Andrei nods, and his casual demeanor makes Mikko lower his brows. He has no idea how to read his question.

His confusion must show on his face, for Andrei’s adding, “You want a piece?”

Mikko freezes. He assesses the situation to determine if this could be a prank, but either Svechnikov’s a great actor or he’s serious. And now that he thinks about it, he does remember Sebastian mentioning something about their proclivity for bedroom guests a few weeks back.

And then he thinks about Andrei’s question—the opportunity to be invited into that beautiful woman’s bed is almost too good to be true. Andrei is right; she is hot, and he absolutely was going to try to fuck her had he not learned she was taken.

But this is something different entirely, and Mikko realizes he really likes that idea. Besides, what better way to bond with a new teammate? Win-win, if you think about it that way.

“‘Course I want a piece, brother.”

“Oh, my love,” Andrei says with a pleased smile when he walks in the bedroom, a large Finn trailing behind him, “you look stunning.”

“Happy birthday, Drei,” you whisper, feeling self-conscious under the gaze of the two men standing before you. Mikko’s expression is that of pure shock, his eyes darting to the side like he might get reprimanded if he looks at you for too long.

On your frame is a burgundy silk robe. It’s untied, exposing the wine-colored lingerie underneath. The bra, garter, and thong wrapping your body is lined with soft, blushy embroidered flowers over nude mesh, allowing illicit peeks of your breasts. The set was a cheeky gift from Brady to Andrei for their birthdays (accompanied by the note, Enjoy), and you knew it was only too appropriate for you to wear tonight with your new guest.

“Isn’t my girl a smokeshow, Moose?”

Mikko looks at Andrei, recognizing the permission that he’s granting by asking the question. He swallows thickly before his eyes move to yours. You bite your lip, shy under his stare, hoping that your eyes grant him the last piece of permission he seeks. It must work, for a moment later, his eyes slide down your figure. “She’s beautiful.”

Andrei’s large hand takes yours, lifting it in an encouragement to turn. “Are you going to greet our guest?”

You take a tentative step forward, feeling the thunder of your pulse as the distance between your bodies grows smaller. Once you’re standing before him, you look up into his blue eyes, blazed with heat. His voice is low as he mutters, “You sure about this?”

“Are you?”

Mikko’s face quickly folds into a smile. “Baby, I knew I wanted to fuck you as soon as I laid eyes on you.”

His admission makes heat pool between your thighs. Your visual inspection trails down his neck, over his broad shoulders, to the place where the fabric of his t-shirt stretches over his muscles. “For me, it was when I saw you in that wet t-shirt contest at the All Star game.”

Mikko laughs. “You mean the dunk tank?”

“Yeah. The wet t-shirt contest. That’s what I said,” you say, earning a chuckle from Andrei beside you.

“Wouldn’t mind seeing you in a wet t-shirt contest, kisa,” he says. The statement draws Mikko’s attention to your breasts. He hums in agreement.

Silently, you nudge the silk off your shoulder, allowing the robe to slip off your frame, exposing even more of your skin. Mikko’s eyes drop to soak in the sight, and you can feel the heat of Andrei’s stare raking over your body beside you.

Tentatively, his hand reaches out to brush your hair over your shoulder, tracing a line down your arm with his finger. Goosebumps rise in its path, and he smiles at the effect he has on you.

“Why don’t you come sit in my lap?”

Mikko offers his hand to guide you toward the arm chair near the window in your bedroom. It’s warm, steady, and huge, and you shiver with anticipation at the thought of having it all over your body.

He didn’t specify how, so once he makes himself comfortable, you crawl right onto his lap, settling your thighs on either side of his waist. He’s big—thick—and you feel a flood of arousal between your legs at the sheer size of him beneath you. You can hear Andrei’s deep chuckle behind you, amused at your fervency.

“Welcome to Raleigh, Rants,” he says, and you don’t have to see his face to know he’s smirking. “I got you a welcome present.”

Mikko’s eyes are predatory as they rake over your body, admiring the sight of you perched in his lap, wrapped in lace. His hands remain patient on either armrest, and you yearn for them to draw heat up your skin. He smiles, then grins. “Hell of a welcome gift, brother.”

“It’s my birthday,” Andrei shrugs, taking a seat on the matching chair beside you. Your eyes flick to his and he offers a wink that has you surely dripping onto Mikko’s expensive pants. “Feeling generous.”

“I have something for you, too,” you purr.

“Oh yeah?” he asks, eyebrows raised. “What’s that?”

“Drei,” you say, turning your head demurely to blink prettily at your boyfriend. “Could you turn on some music?”

Andrei’s returning smirk is feline, pulling out his phone yet again to connect to the speaker in your bedroom. A low, sultry beat soon filters out, and that’s all you need for your hips to start rolling in a circular motion. Mikko’s pretty mouth moves from a sly smile to an ‘o’, his eyes trailing down to your waist before moving back up your body. You can feel him start to harden beneath you, your pussy at just the right spot to grind against his growing length.

“Fuck,” he murmurs, fingers twitching on the armrest to restrain from touching you. “So beautiful, baby. So sexy.”

You smile, wordlessly accepting his compliment, allowing your hand to run down his chest, over the pec muscles you’ve admired for so long—while he might be practicing restraint, you’re ready to indulge. Before long, he removes his shirt and your greedy hands explore his defined muscles, relishing in the feel of them beneath your fingertips; all the while, Andrei watches intently, eagerly, a smile playing at his lips while he watches you in action.

Mikko’s eyes darken when your hands disappear from his body, moving behind your own to unhook your bra. You tease him, allowing the straps to fall down your shoulders before you pull the lace away from your frame, tossing it over to Andrei, who caresses it with a smile. Mikko’s jaw goes practically slack, drinking in the sight of your bare breasts, licking his lips like he can barely resist pressing himself forward to take them into his mouth.

Before long, there’s a more than rigid appendage between your thighs, and your mouth waters when you realize just how big it is. Your lower lip slips between your teeth, sighing out when your clit brushes against it.

“What do you want, dorogoya?” Andrei’s voice pulls you out of your spell.

You blink over to your boyfriend, who has shed his shirt, hand palming his own erection in his pants. His eyes are dark, watching the way your hips slink over his teammate’s in seductive, hypnotizing rolls. His gaze drifts up to meet yours, and his mouth matches yours as it curls up into a shared smile. “Wanna suck his cock, Drei.”

“Well, you gotta ask him nicely, baby,” he says.

Turning back to Mikko, you walk two fingers up his chest and lean forward, your lips hovering over his. There’s a pause as you feel his exhale of breath against your mouth before you can’t wait and finally press your lips to his. The kiss is searing hot, and he returns it with equal fervor, like he was itching to get his mouth on yours—maybe he was.

His lips spread heat through your body, like molten lava making its way through your veins. Desire pulses between your legs, the urge to feel the weight of him on your tongue overwhelming. Though it pains you to do it, you tear your mouth away from him to slink to the floor between his spread thighs. The angle makes your pussy throb, eyes trailing up his body to meet his face, bottom lip between his teeth as he drinks in the sight of you on your knees. “Can I suck your cock, Mikko?”

You can hear Andrei grin beside you as Mikko says, “Only because you asked so nicely.”

He helps you shimmy his pants down his hips, too impatient to tease him any longer than you already had. You fail at stifling your moan at the sight of him huge, hard, and leaking at the tip.

“Like it, kisa?”

Words don’t want to come out, can’t come out, so instead you just nod eagerly. A glance over at Andrei tells you he’s watching you earnestly, too. Your gaze moves from Mikko’s deep blues to the mouthwatering sight in front of you, mouth inching forward to run your lips along his length.

Your mouth presses kisses, then your tongue against his shaft before you suck his tip between your lips. He lets out a low groan as you work your way down his shaft. Your tongue caresses against the bottom of him, against the vein there, earning another moan.

“Perkele—fuck, you’re good with your mouth,” he says.

“Isn’t she?” Andrei asks, a touch of pride in his voice. “Kisa, show him how good your throat is.”

So you do, inching forward until he bumps against the back of your throat; you relax, relishing his deep grunt when you take him even further. Bobbing up and down, you work his entire impressive length between your lips, taking him as deep as he’ll go. Mikko tosses his head back, hands flying to your hair and tugging you off of him. “Jesus Christ. That's fucking lethal.”

“Tough to keep it together, I know,” Andrei comments smugly. “You look so pretty when you’re on your knees and your face is full of dick, baby.”

Your smile is wet, frothy; saliva and precum coat your lips and chin. Mikko growls at the sight. His blue eyes look into yours, his direct attention intimidating despite the fact that you just had his dick buried in your throat.

“I think we’re going to have a lot of fun together.”

“What makes you say that?” you ask with a cheeky grin.

Andrei’s hand helps you up off of the floor, guiding you to the bed and motioning for Mikko to follow. He instructs you to lie on your back, your back propped up against the pillows.

“Let’s see that gorgeous cunt,” he says, sitting at the foot of the bed for a front row seat.

Your thumbs hook into the lace around your hips, drawing your panties down your legs. Slowly, you spread your thighs, enjoying the way both men practically drool as you reveal your center to them.

“You must really like him, kisa,” Andrei hums. “Your pussy is dripping.”

He slinks forward and his hand moves to drag a long index in finger between your drenched folds. “This all for him?”

“Why can't it be for both of you?” you ask.

Andrei smiles knowingly. “But I haven’t even touched you yet.”

Your gaze directs to the floor and you feel heat radiating in your cheeks. “I like it when you tell me what to do. Tell us what to do.”

The smirk on your boyfriend’s face is feline, and you know there are a million filthy thoughts racing through his mind. You cast a glance at Mikko, whose eyes are still lingering between your legs, watching the wetness there grow.

“Oh yeah?” Andrei says, perching himself on the side of the bed, and you brace yourself for whatever his next command is going to be. “Touch yourself, milaya. Show him the way I taught you.”

Mikko’s eyes flare with interest, observing as you settle in against the pillows. You ignore the burn in your cheeks—from the taboo of it all or from the heat of both of their eyes, you aren’t sure. Allowing your legs to fall open a bit wider, you run your hands over your body, caressing your breasts and rubbing at your tender nipples.

Your hand slips between your thighs, gathering your slick on the tip of your finger and circling your clit with a slow, teasing touch. Releasing a sigh at the feeling, you let your eyes flutter shut to relish the pleasure.

“Eyes open,” is the next command that comes from your boyfriend, though this time it’s a lower, husky murmur. A surge of arousal rushes through you at the way he’s commanding control of the situation even sitting on the sidelines. “On him.”

Your eyes lock with Mikko’s blues, dark and lustful from watching you. The weight of both of their attention makes your head spin, fingers returning to toy with your entrance. You watch Mikko’s eyes drop back between your legs, to the place where the tip of your finger dips inside of you before sliding in one knuckle, then two. He moans in approval, licking his lips when you slip another finger inside of you.

The hunger in his eyes heats you from the inside out, spurring you on to pump your fingers a bit faster. A moan falls from your lips—it feels downright sinful to indulge like this in front of them. Two sets of eyes watch you, fingers coated in a glistening nectar; your skin is hot, that delicious buzz of arousal absorbing all coherent thought.

Your moans lilt higher, that exquisite release beginning to radiate low in your gut. But, as if he’s watching your meter, waiting for you to near your peak, Andrei’s voice calls out. “Let him have a taste, printsessa.”

A disappointed huff leaves your lips, and you ignore the scolding look from your boyfriend. Ultimately, you obey, ceasing your hand’s movements. Your eyes connect with Mikko’s, dark and lustful, and you lift your hand, offering your soaked fingers to him. He presses forward, the tip of your fingers brushing against his lips and coating them with a swipe of your nectar; his tongue darts out to taste before he takes them between his lips.

You feel his tongue swipe along the length of your fingers like they’re a popsicle on a hot summer day. Mikko’s eyes remain locked with yours while he sucks the essence off of your digits, finally releasing them with a pop.

“Delicious.”

“Want more?” you can’t help but ask, adjusting your leg open in a silent invitation. He licks his lips and grins, his eyes drawing back to your decadent, dripping pussy, like a predator ready to pounce on its prey. Before he does, though, he casts a glance back to Andrei, seeking that final bit of approval.

But Andrei’s eyes are on you, relishing in the sight of you, naked, with your legs spread open for his new teammate, who is gazing up at him for permission to dive face first into your waiting cunt. And then he pulls out his phone.

He doesn’t need to tell either of you to hold still while you pose for the quick photo; you just do. After he takes a shot, he inspects it briefly, then pockets his phone. His eyes glitter when he looks back at you and says, “For Brady.”

The statement makes you shiver, and Mikko, sensing he’s obtained permission, turns to press his lips against your calf. Sloppily, he makes his way up your leg, crawling his way toward the apex of your thighs. The moan you let out when his lips finally reach is nothing short of guttural; just the mere touch of his skin against your clit sends a wave of pleasure coursing through your system.

Your Finnish partner has barely gotten his tongue inside you when Andrei’s voice commands, “Don’t make him do all the work, dorogoya. Sit on his face.” Then, directing his attention to Mikko, he says, “She tastes extra sweet after she’s sucked your cock—my pretty little whore loves sucking dick.”

Mikko, for as disappointed as he looks that he has to pull himself back from your pussy, is more than eager to settle himself on his back, enthused at the prospect of feasting on your dripping pussy. He offers his hand to steady you as you crawl over him, dragging your hand along his erection on your way to your throne.

“Wanted to taste you as soon as I saw you in that dress earlier,” he confesses, his other hand grazing at your thigh.

“I told her the same thing,” Andrei says with a smirk. “Didn’t I, darling?”

“Guess I know how to get my way next time,” you retort. It earns a chuckle from Andrei as you swing your leg over his face, hearing the groan that Mikko emits between your thighs.

Andrei, standing at the foot of the bed, smirks and nods to you. It’s the first private moment you’ve had between the two of you, since Mikko is otherwise preoccupied while you hover over his face.

“Tease,” he mumbles. “Want to taste you—really taste you.”

When you sink down onto his mouth, you let out twin moans. Mikko’s tongue is quick, eager to taste your folds, his hands finding the globes of your ass to hold you steady. You balance yourself, sitting upright, settling over his head as he drinks you in to his heart’s content.

The distinct sound of a camera clicking alerts your attention back to the room’s other occupant, who is standing at the foot of the bed with his phone out. Andrei sends you a mischievous grin, offering a wink. “Just keeping Brady updated.”

“Why don’t you come here and put your hands to good use instead?”

Your boyfriend smiles at your sass, tossing his phone on the tufted ottoman at the foot of your bed. His eyes are dark, moving to slip off his shirt; your gaze immediately shifts to the cut lines of his abdomen, never missing the opportunity to admire your boyfriend in all of his glory.

“This better?” he asks after he’s joined you on the bed, on his knees beside Mikko, still buried in your pussy. But it isn’t; he’s not close enough. You need his hands, his mouth on your body.

So you pull him toward you, crashing your lips against his. He responds quickly, deepening the kiss almost immediately. The action sends molten lava coursing through your veins, earning a more fervent roll of your hips under the touch of both men. Andrei’s hands cup your breasts, brushing his thumbs over your already pebbled nipples. Another moan falls from your lips, remembering exactly why you like celebrating Andrei’s birthday.

The angle of your pussy on Mikko’s face has your clit perfectly in line with his chin, and when your hips shift, you feel it brush against the scruff he has there. A whimper escapes your throat, a low growl coming from Andrei, who pulls away just slightly, reaching his hand out to wrap around your neck. His pressure is light, but enough to remind you who is in control. “Do that again, kisa. Want you to come on his face.”

And who are you to disobey?

Obediently, your hips roll again, seeking out the right speed and angle to brush the tight bundle of nerves against the short hairs on his chin. Once you find it, they lock into place, circling over the sloppy laves of his tongue. Your hands find purchase on his chest, fingers clutching onto the firm muscle there while you ride his face in search of your high. Andrei releases your throat to let you toss your head back in ecstasy.

“Mikko,” you sigh out, “M’so close.”

He’s a good listener, diligently keeping up his motions until your body is shuddering above him. One final swipe of your hips has his scruff scratching your clit and sending your orgasm slamming through you. His greedy tongue laps up your nectar, moaning at the taste of you dripping over his mouth.

Your hands lean heavy on his chest while your hips roll against his tongue, riding out your high with heavy breaths. His mouth is certainly as talented as it is pretty, pressing open-mouthed kisses against your center while you come down from your high.

Your boyfriend extends a hand to help you slide off his teammate’s face; Mikko has a dopey expression on his face, his scruff coated in the sheen of your orgasm. A pink tongue darts out to taste the essence of you, and Andrei nudges you toward him. “Help him clean up the mess you made, kisa.”

This time, your kiss is scorching, the tang of you on his lips and his tongue that slides into your mouth. Mikko grunts against you, the low rumble in his chest vibrating when your hand reaches to stroke his erection, still bobbing proudly above his pelvis.

Andrei shifts to lay beside Mikko, on the opposite side of you, so that you’re in between the two of them. The action draws you away from Mikko’s mouth, and your boyfriend gives you a smile. “Let me taste, dorogoya.”

So you lean to the other side, kissing Andrei and transferring the taste of you and of Mikko’s mouth. Your other hand reaches out to palm his erection, hand wrapping around his length. When you pull away, you stroke both of them in tandem, earning matching low groans from both men. You’d almost forgotten how much you liked the power you hold, both men’s pleasure in the palm of your hand—literally.

“Who’s going to fuck me first?” you ask, surprised at your own boldness.

“Birthday boy goes first,” Mikko announces, gesturing to you as if he’s telling Andrei to take the first slice of cake. With the way the two of them are looking at you, you suppose the sentiment isn't too far off.

“Lay on your back, baby,” Andrei commands. “Want to fuck you properly.”

You scramble to obey, earning a chuckle from Mikko, watching you bemusedly. Once you’re settled, Andrei kneels before you, warm hands on your legs, spreading them slowly to reveal your center to him. His touch sets off a rush of serotonin that could never be replicated with someone else, no matter how delicious and tempting their tits are.

“My favorite gift to unwrap,” he says, a glitter in his eyes that never fails to make you shiver. His gaze dips between your thighs, to the wetness there from Mikko’s mouth. Your hair fans out beneath you, laid out bare and open for him on your soft sheets, and for a moment, the rest of the world fades away.

A large hand reaches to stroke his length, eyes feasting in the sight of you laid out beneath him: naked, lips swollen, skin flushed with arousal, inner thighs coated with the remnants of your orgasm, all while his new teammate sits beside you on the bed, observing the scene before him. And then, much to your satisfaction, he settles himself between your thighs, spreading wider to accommodate his wide frame.

The joy is short-lived, though, for he pauses at your entrance, dragging his tip through your wet folds. He smirks at the sound, glancing to Mikko as if to say, ‘Thanks for warming her up for me.’

“Drei, please,” you whine, hips bucking against him. The action causes him to slip, pressing against your sensitive clit, and you let out a moan. “Need you.”

“Need me, or just need a nice big cock to fuck you?”

“Need you, Drei,” you insist. “N-no one fucks me like you do.”

A satisfied smirk crosses your boyfriend’s handsome face, like you uttered the magic words. “Aw, but you haven’t even let Mikko fuck you yet.”

In the end, Andrei decides that you’ve earned it, teasing you by nudging himself between your folds, pressing in painstakingly slowly. His face contorts, feeling your warmth wrapped around him, and he glances over to Mikko. “Have to go slow. Cunt’s too tight, even when she’s soaking the sheets.”

Your cheeks burn and your gaze follows Andrei’s to meet Mikko’s dark blue stare as he hums in response. His expression is hungry, his hand loosely wrapped around his dick. You watch him stroke himself, your mouth watering at the memory of him, anticipating what it’ll feel like to have him inside a different part of your body. Andrei tsks, thrusting himself a little harder to bring your attention back to him. “So greedy for more already, aren’t you, dorogoya?”

“He’s so big,” you say, innocently licking your lips. “Can’t help it.”

“Had no idea you were such a cock-hungry slut,” Mikko pipes up. The filthy words send heat cascading over your body, pinned still under his stare and Andrei’s body. “Pussy stuffed full of one and so needy for another.”

Andrei resumes the movement of his hips, temporarily rendering you speechless when he pulls out and thrusts back in, hard. Mikko’s eyes train on your breasts, watching the way they sway under Andrei’s movements. His cock bobs in his hand, twitching with interest at the sight of you.

“Like it, Mikko?” you purr, running your hand over your breasts. He twitches again, and you see his eyes darken at the way your voice sounds saying his name. “Like watching me get fucked?”

“Love watching you get fucked, pretty girl,” he says, his voice low and his accent thick. “Bet that delicious pussy is gripping him so tight.”

His words earn another wave of arousal, coating Andrei’s dick in a fresh layer of it as he continues to pound into you. The pressure, the pace, is something he’s practiced over the years, knowing exactly how to read your body and respond accordingly; truly, you are spoiled in every aspect, but you never take it for granted, relishing in every ounce of the pleasure he gives you day in and day out.

“Drei,” you whisper, “close.”

Your boyfriend smiles and glances over to your guest. “Want to help?”

With an enthusiastic acceptance, Mikko shifts, replacing your hand on your breast with his own, massaging and pinching at your nipples. He chuckles when you moan, his enormous hands trailing down your body until his fingers reach your pelvis. The gentle circle of his finger around your clit is opposite the intense, sharp thrusts of Andrei’s hips, and it nearly sets you on fire. Goosebumps litter your skin, the pleasure of both of their touch reaching every cell in your body.

Mikko, sensing the rising of your peak, presses harder. “That’s it, pretty girl. Wanna watch you come on his dick. Can you do that for me? Can you come for me?”

It only takes one more press of Andrei’s tip right against that spot that makes you see stars to have you hurtling over the edge, vision going dark at the force of your orgasm. You’re vaguely aware of your legs trembling in Andrei’s hands, hips bucking against Mikko’s fingers while you let out a strangled cry of ecstasy.

Coming down, your breath returns to you in waves, and your eyes flutter open to see both of them watching you hotly. Mikko has a look of awe on his face—he didn’t really get to see your last orgasm, only feel it and taste it with his tongue—while Andrei is smug, satisfied at your cum leaking down the length of his dick.

“Jesus,” Mikko awes. “He isn't wrong. You're so fucking perfect when you come.”

A pleasant flutter wafts through you at his praise. Andrei pulls out, beckoning over to Mikko to take a look, admiring the view of your wet, used pussy, glistening with your cum.

“Fuck,” he groans. “Such a gorgeous cunt. Looks so pretty all used and wet.”

Andrei nods in agreement, his eyes glittering. “You want a go?”

You know it should bother you, the way they talk about you as an object, something to be used and tried and shared; instead, all it does is throw gasoline on your already burning desire.

Mikko, having once again agreed enthusiastically, offers you a hand to pull you up to shaky feet. His large hands steady your hips, pausing to make sure you’re good despite his own burgeoning need pressed against your thigh. And then he turns your body, pulling you against him so your back is pressed to his front; his bare skin feels sinfully good against yours.

“How long you been thinking about this, dorogoya?” Andrei asks. “How long have you wanted him to fuck you?”

Mikko’s hands grab the globes of your ass roughly, ridding you of the ability to speak while he squeezes and kneads at the flesh. It feels divinely decadent, and all you can do is moan; you don’t have to look to know your pussy is already dripping again, eager and ready for her first taste of Finnish dick.

“Ever since I watched him win the Cup,” you confess, a throb developing between your thighs at the memory alone—the playoff beard, the champagne and beer sticking to his damp curls, that cockiness that only comes with winning the greatest trophy in sports. There’s something innately sexy about a hockey player lifting the Stanley Cup; it’s infinitely sexier when it’s a man you’re already attracted to.

Mikko slaps your ass in approval, pressing his erection against you and grinding it against the curve of your backside. “Maybe you’ll get to do this again in June.”

A thrill courses through you at the thought. “Consider this motivation.”

His chuckle is low, deep in his chest, and you can feel it rumble against your spine. Your voice drops to a whisper, suddenly overcome with need, Stanley Cup or not. “Fuck me, Mikko.”

“Yeah? You want it?”

You nod, and a quiet tsk from Andrei, watching intently, has you correcting yourself. “Yes, please. Want you to fuck me. Need it.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” he says, cheeky, before he’s directing himself into your waiting, weeping pussy. He presses forward, sucking the air out of your lungs as he goes deeper and deeper until finally his hips press against your ass. Your eyes widen at the sensation, registering the deep grunt of approval in your ear. “Fuuuck.”

Andrei watches on, pleased at the reaction, pleased that his teammate is enjoying you as much as he does. When Mikko starts to move his hips, you gasp—it feels even bigger when he draws out, leaving you empty, quickly sheathing himself back into you as his hips start to move.

“Didn’t think it was gonna fit,” Mikko whispers hotly against the shell of your ear. A shiver rakes its way down your spine when you feel his hand twist in your hair, giving it a delicious tug. His hips punch steady, sharp thrusts; he grunts deeply. “Thought this cunt was gonna be too tight.”

You have no words left to speak, any coherent thought sent out the window as soon as he filled you up to the brim. Each forceful push of his hips takes your breath away, head spinning with delirious desire. Your hands clutch at his corded forearms, wrapped around your middle.

Before long, he releases his hold on your body, directing you to bend over the mattress. With the change in angle, you have the leverage to push back against him, meeting his thrusts with an equal fervor.

“What an ass she’s got, Svech,” Mikko says, surely admiring the view of the ripple caused by the heavy impact of his hips against your ass.

Andrei hums in agreement, and after a moment, he says, “Kisa, look at me.”

You turn your head, looking up at him in question. His normally warm, chocolate eyes are dark, lustful. “You want him in your ass, baby?”

The question sends a bloom of heat through you, and you hear Mikko clear his throat behind you before you nod both honestly and earnestly. He smiles and turns his attention to your guest. “You like anal?”

Twisting your body around, your eyes flick to Mikko's, whose simmering eyes are already on you. A ripple of anticipation floats between you two for a moment, something for only you. Then he smirks. “Yeah, I like anal.”

Andrei’s smile is almost mischievous. He purrs, “You sat on his face. Why don’t you come sit on my cock, kisa? Want you to ride me for my birthday.”

It only takes a moment to process his intention, a broad grin breaking out on his face. He’s not asking verbally, but you know you could say no and that would be that. But you do want it, want both of them inside you to feel so deliciously full it’s like you’re finally complete.

The sigh you let out at the loss of Mikko is involuntary, but you just as eagerly move to straddle Andrei’s waist, not wasting any time and dragging your center over his hardness. He doesn’t seem to be interested in wasting time, either, hand reaching between you and guiding himself to your entrance. Warm eyes gaze into yours as he presses himself into you once more, a relieved sigh escaping from your mouth.

He allows you to roll your hips, grinding yourself on his dick while his fingers reach up to press between your lips. Your mouth opens and let him slip his first and second finger over your tongue. Sucking at his digits, your cheeks hollow, earning a satisfied smile. Once he deems his fingers wet enough, they trail to your ass, slipping down to press at the puckered hole there with the tip of one finger. Beside you, Mikko watches intently.

Andrei works his first finger, then eventually his second, past your tight ring. He waits for you to adjust, helping you to relax in preparation for something much, much larger. His fingers move in and out, each press into you nearly making your eyes roll in the back of your head. There is no way you aren’t going to die when Mikko presses his enormous—

“Ready, kisa? Ask him nicely.”

Your head turns and you look over at Mikko, batting your eyelashes. “Please fuck my ass, Mikko.”

“Fuck, you’re a good girl,” he groans. It doesn’t take him long to get settled behind you, and you hear the sound of him spitting into his hand before working it over the head of his dick. Andrei stills your hips, aiding Mikko while he guides his tip to your hole.

Your mouth falls open as he presses in. Mikko curses in Finnish, and Andrei chuckles lowly. You bask in the divine feeling of fullness, eyes fluttering shut in pleasure. A soft moan leaves your throat, which Andrei takes as a sign to begin the slow, subtle pulse of his hips. Mikko follows suit, alternating his thrust with Andrei’s, his hands gripping onto your hips.

“So good at taking dick, baby,” Mikko grunts. “Knew you would be. Could tell from the way you gave me those fuck me eyes earlier.”

At that, Andrei laughs out loud. “See? Told you you were flirting with him.”

Mikko chuckles. “Made my cock twitch when you looked up at me with those eyes. Same ones you give when you’re sucking dick.”

Andrei laughs again. “He gets it.”

You roll your eyes, scoffing. “Well, clearly it works. Why would I stop when it gets me what I want?”

Beneath you, Andrei’s chuckle turns into a purr. “I love when you’re a desperate little slut, milaya.”

Mikko makes a noise of assent, and, as if communicating through telepathy, they expertly resume their previous pace at the same time; any remaining sass you have dies on your lips at the steady pulse against the place inside of you that sends tiny bursts of white hot pleasure through your system. Your peak returns to you quickly this time, surprising you at the speed with which it rises in your chest.

“Come for us, dorogoya.”

Your eyes squeeze shut, allowing yourself only to feel the push and pull of them. It doesn’t take long for a cry to rip from your throat while the force of your orgasm makes your vision go fuzzy, lighting every single nerve ending in your body on fire. Vaguely, you’re aware of two sets of hands gently maneuvering your body; you find yourself lying on your back, two large, looming figures on either side of you.

Blinking, you realize they’re both watching you intently, hungrily, each stroking his length. There’s a pleasant warmth radiating from between your legs, the remaining fuzziness from your last orgasm still pulsing gently, and you want them to feel the same way, too.

Your hands press your breasts together, eyes moving between the two of them, silently encouraging them. Mikko comes with a grunt, spurting warm liquid over the curves of your breasts; Andrei follows shortly after, coating your cheek in drips of cum. Once both are sated, they slump back and admire their handiwork.

“Gorgeous,” Mikko comments. Andrei moves off the bed, and you think he’s going to retrieve a towel, but instead he returns only a few moments later, brandishing his phone and not a cloth. He grins at you, holding it up to capture you in a final photo for the evening.

“Happy birthday, Svech.”

“Thanks for making it a birthday to remember, brother.”

—

[Brady Skjei:] Perfect birthday present 😍

[cncohshit]

WAKING UP WITH YOU

WARNINGS: absolutely none. Just some pure, sweet content.

PAIRING(S): Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: in which waking up in the morning has never been so pleasant.

The mixture of the feeling of the warm sunshine and Luke’s touch on her bare back was easily Y/N’s favorite way to wake up on a lazy Sunday. A smile curled her lips up, eyes still closed as she nuzzled into the pillow when her careful fingertips reached his shoulders and she drew a tiny heart on it.

Luke must be tired, Y/N thought to herself when the bright rays of sun peaked through the crack in the blinds onto the crumpled sheets where she was lying on her side, admiring Luke’s still sleeping figure beside her because being able to admire him like this-parted lips and softened features before he woke up was always worth the extra yawns that day.

Mornings with Luke were when she could feel herself go dizzy over his beauty undisturbed, and she’s known to take full advantage of it. It didn’t matter, he deserved to be called pretty every waking hour, and she was willing to provide. And provide she did.

"I can feel you staring, you know.” Luke groaned, the low hum of his voice rumbled in a sort of echo from his chest before he was peeking one eye open to frown at her before he rolled onto his side. "Quit it." He finished even as one of his biceps moved to wrap around her and pull her closer to him, anyway.

"Can’t I admire how pretty you are?" Y/N hummed and her voice lilted to a tease, barely noticeable with the sleep still lacing it, but he clicked his tongue because he heard it.

"Shut up." Luke groaned, but it was followed by an exhale that sounded a lot like a laugh.

Y/N knew that he was nuzzling into his pillow in the hopes she didn’t see the affectionate smile tugging at his lips when she began to place featherlight kisses from the side of his neck up to his jaw, giggling in between while a sleepy, “Good morning,” fell from her lips. She heard Luke sigh contently as the weight of his arm around her squeezed slightly.

"Who knew that Luke Hughes was such a softie?" Y/N giggled, pinching at his cheek and she watched him pull back before he rolled his eyes despite the dusting of pink on his features, fingers curling gently round her wrist after he batted her away with a grumble.

"Would you quit it?” Luke grunted, but he still brought her hand closer to his face to press his lips against her fingertips in a tender kiss.

"Okay, how about the prettiest softie?" Y/N sighed, and the way her fingers suddenly moved from his hold to trace along the outline of his cheek bone seemed to catch him off guard, watching his eyes widen slightly, then soften at the gentleness of her touch before he tried to cover it up with another groan.

“Fuck, no." Luke muttered, rubbing his eyes a few times until they were a little hazy and bloodshot, but she still thought they were beyond pretty and captivating. “What’s gotten into you today? You’re being so sappy.”

“Can I not appreciate my boyfriend?” Y/N said, booping his nose before staring into his eyes, those eyes that whispered silent reassurances when he looked into hers, ones that gave her the comfort that nothing and no one else could provide.

Luke groaned as he squinted at her, the room still a little too bright for him right now, but she found herself giggling at the pout that rested on his lips, accompanied with the even more unkempt appearance of his bed head.

“Would you quit laughing at me? God, it’s too early to deal with your bullshit, Y/N.” Her boyfriend grumbled before he was rubbing the sleep from his eyes, blinking at her a few times before his thumb was brushing over hers affectionately. There was a silent little, “Good morning,” that pooled in the affectionate, sleepy look he gave her when she smiled.

"What? Don’t like being called pretty, Luke? Because I think you like it." Y/N said quickly and there was an affectionate squeeze from his fingers on her skin that she knew he meant to come off as more annoyed than it actually did, but his calloused hands were still gentle when they touched her and she couldn’t help but notice that his face looked a little more blissful than usual at her comeback.

"You’ve gotta have a snooze button." Luke huffed and she feigned offense when she scrunched up her nose and turned her back to him with a huff, wriggling slightly out of his arms.

"Someone’s a bit grumpy this morning." Y/N mumbled, but maybe it was because she knew that he was going to groan before pulling her back against his chest, his biceps tighter this time just in case she tried to wriggle away from his grasp while he smeared a short kiss along the dip of her shoulder, followed by a scoff in defeat.

Mornings with Luke were nice, pleasant and sleepy. It was rare that he wasn't up for practice or morning skate, but it still felt nice to spend the morning with his bigger body blanketing her. His bicep curled around Y/N to hug her closer to his chest while his fingers left featherlight touches along her spine, still warm as she basked in the remnants of her tingling pleasure.

"Good morning, baby." Luke breathed, his lips finally curling into a smile when he kissed her once on the temple and she couldn’t help but laugh when he followed it with a few more ticklish ones after.

“Well, it’s technically good afternoon now." Y/N grinned and she felt him tangle his fingers loosely with hers before he patted around the mattress for his phone, squinting at the numbers on the bright screen before he wiggled closer to encourage her to cuddle up to him.

"Oh, yeah? It’s still good as long as you're in my arms." Luke drawled, pink cheeked as he looked over her with a fondness that she’d always found in his eyes that were always on hers.

“You’re so cheesy, you know.” Y/N laughed, a breathier sort as she patted at his chest and she watched his cheeks puff when his lips pulled into an exaggerated pout.

"Oh, now you say that, but it’s not gonna be long before you admit that you love it." Luke replied quickly, cheeky smile in place when he leaned forward to kiss her firmly on the lips.

"Gross." Y/N teased and Luke grinned lazily in response, making her heart skip a beat.

He leaned forward to gather her into his arms, just as the sun leaked through the blinds to paint her in a more golden hue. Luke took a breath and he held it, because he realized that love looks just like this, just like her.

"See, you can barely tear yourself away." Luke chuckled, but he gave her a softer sort of look when he leaned his head to the side, messy curls falling slightly over his eyes while his hands settled into the dip of her waist.

"And how long is it gonna take for you to admit you love it?" Y/N rebutted, mimicking his words from a few moments ago before she was breaking into a laugh when he pinched at her sides, just enough to have her squirming and giggling in his hold.

"Oh? I’ll admit it right now, baby." Luke couldn’t help but say, his voice tender as he tried not to let it crack at how suddenly overwhelmed he felt. “I love you." His words were soft, and the sound had her nuzzling into him, feeling his delicate fingers trace comforting shapes along her skin as the corners of his lips upturn slightly.

Y/N softened before she smiled this time, wrapping her arms around his shoulders. “I love you, too." She breathed in earnest because she knew that he meant it, and Luke gave her a look that was a little amused as much as it was in love.

“Is that right? Now look who’s the cheesy one.” He chuckled before he was squeezing at her cheeks and kissing her again. The kiss was slow and deep, but so delicate that it was impossible not to melt into the feeling.

Just as Luke pulled away and flashed a boyish smile before kissing her again, Y/N swore if time froze right in that instant, she would be stuck in one of the happiest moments she’d ever experienced. Since the day Luke stumbled into her life, it had never been about the big gestures or moments. Simply sharing kisses while extremely exhausted and being in each other’s arms to catch up on desperately needed cuddles was a reminder of how amazing their love was for each other.

A few minutes later, when she settled back into her earlier position, Y/N was leaving kisses on any exposed piece of his skin while lightly stroking up and down his side, and Luke let his eyes close once more. The bright sun flooded through the windows, illuminating her boyfriend in a breathtaking glow that she couldn’t get enough of.

Y/N contently hummed before Luke leaned in and planted a chaste kiss to her cheek. “I’ve missed this.” She breathed out and his hand laid flat on her back as he breathed out a little heavily as an answer. She knew that Luke missed it too, the endless calls and countless texts they’ve always exchanged when he was away on roadies always showed her how she wasn’t the only one struggling with the time spent separated.

Luke has never been in love until he met Y/N. It was almost natural when his lips rested against her forehead and he realized that he'd never get used to how warm she felt pressed against his chest. He inhaled and he smelled her shampoo and he smiled because he remembered the way she giggled when he told her he liked how it smelt on their third date. Even though he still cringes at the compliment, he thought it smelt a little more like home now.

Luke still remembered the first time Y/N’s hand fit through his and squeezed when she knew he was nervous, and now it served as his reminder to exhale. He remembered how she looked in his jersey with his last name written across her back for the first time and the heat in his cheeks. He remembered the tremble in his fingers when he first asked to kiss her, and he still remembered the beat in his chest when she actually said yes and how gentle her fingers felt.

He smiled, and then he thought again about how loved the warmth of her hand against his when it intertwined with his own, and he loved the feeling of her fingers kneading at his muscles after a game. He loved hearing Y/N talk about her day because she glowed differently when she spoke about what she loved, and he loved the smell of her shampoo on his bedsheets.

Y/N was always the first person on his mind when he scored a goal because he hoped she knew it was for her, and he knew if he looked a little to his left she’d be right there in the crowd with a proud smile that adorned her pretty face that said she did. Luke was become softer and warmer, he realized before he was chuckling and rolling his eyes at his own lovesick thoughts.

But a gentle sort of realization clicked into place when he looked at her one last time and he had never been so sure of anything in his life when he muttered a quick, “I love you.” He felt his world settle into place when Y/N nuzzled closer to his chest because mornings like this made Luke thankful that the first person he ever fell in love with, was her.

[cncohshit]

Tangled in You | Luke Hughes

Pairing; Luke Hughes x Fem!Reader

Warning(s); Fingering, unprotected sex, cursing, overuse of the words 'pleasure' and 'sensation' probably, edited once.

Summary; Lazy morning sex with Lukey.

Word Count; 2.3k

Author’s note; I've received many requests for Luke smut, so hopefully you guys enjoy this (: Slow morning sex might be the hottest thing ever, honestly. Also the title is kind of random, I couldn't think of anything 😄 -Honey

Your eyes flutter open, the remnants of sleep still heavy on your lashes, as the familiar body behind you shifts. The mattress dips slightly under his weight, and a quiet rustle of sheets stirs in the stillness of the room. You instinctively snuggle deeper into the blankets, letting out a soft, sleepy grunt, willing the morning to wait just a little longer.

A moment later, you feel him—the solid presence of Luke moving closer, his chest pressed against your back, his legs tangling lazily with yours beneath the comforter. His breathing is slow, brushing warmly over the nape of your neck, sending a soft shiver down your spine. Then, the gentle pressure of his lips follows, trailing feather-light kisses from your shoulder to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

"Luke…" you murmur, voice thick with sleep, though you make no effort to stop him. The sound of his name on your lips is soft, almost an exhale, as if you’re caught somewhere between the dream and the waking world.

He hums in response, a deep, contented sound vibrating against your skin. "Morning, baby," he whispers, his voice low and rough, the kind of rasp that only comes from the first moments of waking.

His hand slips beneath the covers, searching for the warmth of your skin. You feel his fingers glide under the hem of your nightshirt, tracing the curve of your waist. His palm presses against your bare skin, grounding you in the moment.

For a few heartbeats, you both lie there, wrapped in the quiet, the softness of the early morning cocooning you in its embrace. The room is bathed in the pale, silvery light of dawn, and outside, the world is still—just the faint rustling of leaves and the distant hum of life stirring to greet the day. But here, in this bed, it feels like time has slowed, like the day belongs only to the two of you.

Luke shifts behind you, his body molding to yours, and the movement draws your attention to the unmistakable pressure against the small of your back. The feeling of him, hard and insistent, pulses through the thin fabric of your clothes, and you realize he’s already awake in more ways than one. He lets out a low, almost involuntary groan, the sound vibrating through his chest and into your skin. His breath brushes your ear, warm and thick with unspoken need.

One of his hands drifts upward, slipping under your shirt with a lazy familiarity, cupping the soft curve of your breast. The weight of his palm is heavy and reassuring, but the gentle squeeze that follows sends a ripple of pleasure through you, igniting something deeper. Your breath hitches, a small, uncontrollable sound that seems to spark something in him. Almost without thinking, you shift closer, pressing yourself more fully against him, your body answering his touch before your mind can catch up.

His fingers find your nipple, pinching lightly, rolling it between the pads of his thumb and index finger in slow, deliberate motions. A soft gasp escapes your lips, the sensation sharp yet teasing, and for a moment, your entire world narrows to the exquisite point of contact. He releases it with a gentle tug, his breath catching in your ear, and then his hand slides down, gliding over your ribs and waist with practiced ease, as though he’s relearning every curve of you this early morning.

His fingers reach the band of your panties, playing with the fabric for a moment before hooking underneath it. His breath is hot and ragged now, his voice little more than a rasp. "Can I?" he murmurs, the question hovering between you like a promise and a plea.

You nod, unable to find words, but the sound that escapes you—a soft, breathy hum—is all the answer he needs. It’s the smallest permission, but for him, it’s everything. His fingers move with purpose now, pushing your panties aside with a smooth motion, the fabric slipping down just enough to grant him access.

His hand dips lower, and the first touch of his fingers against your clit is delicate, testing, as if he’s savoring the moment as much as you are. The feel of him against such a sensitive spot makes your breath falter, a slow, shuddering exhale that fills the quiet room. He circles your clit gently, teasing you, drawing out the tension with slow, intentional strokes. Every nerve in your body seems to hum in response, the sensation both soothing and electric, like a rising tide of pleasure pulling you under.

Then, without warning, he slides a finger inside you, and the sudden fullness makes you gasp, your body tensing at the unexpected rush of heat. Your legs instinctively clench around his hand, trapping him there, not allowing him to let him go. He chuckles softly into your ear, a low, knowing sound, as he enjoys every tiny reaction you give him.

He moves his finger with unhurried precision, curling it inside you, pressing against a spot that makes you arch ever so slightly into him. The sensation is maddening, the slow build-up of pleasure pushing you toward the edge, but still, he doesn’t rush.

The moment his finger slips out of you, it's abrupt—too soon, too quick—and a sharp, needy whine escapes your lips before you can stop it. The sound hangs in the air, but Luke only chuckles softly in response. "Needy girl, hm?" His voice is thick, teasing, with a thread of hunger woven through it.

You don’t respond—not with words. Instead, you shift your hips back, aching for him to fill the sudden emptiness he’s left behind. His answer comes not with words either, but with the action of his hips lifting to pull his boxers down just enough to expose his cock. He gives himself a few languid strokes before you feel it—the thick, hard length of him pressing against you, nudging at your entrance.

"Fuck..." he groans under his breath as he begins to push inside, the word slipping from his lips like a prayer. The sensation is slow and steady, every inch of him stretching you in the most delicious way, the fullness of him making your breath catch. Your eyes flutter shut, and your teeth sink into your bottom lip as a soft gasp spills out.

For a moment, Luke remains still, savoring the feel of being inside you for the first time in weeks, the quiet hum of pleasure pulsing through the air. His forehead presses against the back of your head, his breath warm against your neck as his chest rises and falls against your back. Then, slowly, he starts to move.

His hips rock gently against you, each thrust relaxed, as if he has all the time in the world. The rhythm is a slow, intoxicating, sensation that leaves you craving more with every movement. His cock glides in and out of you, the friction sparking small waves of pleasure that build steadily, like the tide pulling you under.

His arm snakes around you again, his hand finding the curve of your breast, squeezing gently before his fingers find your nipple once more. The added feel pulls a gasp from your throat, and you arch slightly into his touch, your body answering every movement with unspoken need. He rolls your nipple between his fingers, teasing, pulling, as his hips continue their slow, steady rhythm, each thrust more maddening than the last.

You feel his breath hitch in your ear, his moans slipping out in soft, ragged bursts, the sound sending shivers down your spine. His body presses even closer, the curve of his chest molded against your back, his mouth grazing the side of your neck as if he can’t get enough of you. His lips find the sensitive skin just beneath your ear, planting soft, heated kisses there, each one sending little sparks of pleasure through you.

The slow, measured pace he’s set begins to unravel, each thrust a little deeper, a little more intense. Your body responds in kind, pressing back against him, meeting him with urgency. The tension in the air thickens, the pleasure building between you both with each passing second, coiling tighter and tighter, as if the entire world has shrunk down to the exquisite push and pull of your bodies moving together in perfect sync.

"Fuck, you feel so good..." Luke’s voice is rough, a low groan that hums in your ear. His hand tightens on your breast, his other arm pulling you closer, holding you in place as he continues to thrust into you, slowly driving you both toward that inevitable edge.

The slow rhythm of his thrusts starts to falter, a subtle shift in the way his hips meet yours, as if he’s struggling to maintain control. His breathing becomes uneven, his soft groans more frequent, and you can feel the tension coiling in his body, like a taut string ready to snap. Every time he drives into you, it’s a little harder, a little deeper, and with each thrust, you feel the pleasure building inside you, spiraling tighter and tighter.

His hand on your breast grips you more firmly now, his fingers teasing your nipple with a rougher urgency that sends jolts of sensation straight to your core. You gasp again, a soft, breathless sound that seems to spur him on. The friction of him inside you, his length stretching you, combined with the steady pressure of his hand, is overwhelming, each movement pushing you closer to the edge.

Luke's lips are at your neck again, but now his kisses are more insistent, more desperate. His mouth moves along your skin, his breath hot and ragged as he murmurs something incoherent against you—your name, perhaps, or some wordless expression of how good you feel wrapped around him. His free arm tightens around your waist, holding you in place as he moves faster, the slow and conscious pace giving way to something more primal, more urgent.

You can feel it, too—that growing wave of pleasure deep in your core, building with every thrust, every flick of his fingers. Your breathing turns shallow, your pulse quickening as your body starts to tighten, the tension coiling in your belly, low and hot. It’s an all-encompassing sentiment, like you're standing on the edge of something vast, your body straining for release, teetering just on the brink.

Luke’s voice, thick and gravelly, breaks through the haze. "Are you close?" he groans, his breath catching on the words as his hips slam harder against you, his cock driving deeper with each thrust. "I can't... hold back much longer."

The sound of his voice, so raw and vulnerable, sends you careening toward the edge. Your hand reaches down instinctively, slipping between your thighs to where his cock is still buried inside you. Your fingers find your clit, already sensitive and swollen, and the moment you touch yourself, it’s like a lightning strike—a burst of agitation so intense it nearly steals your breath.

Your legs start to tremble, the pleasure building so fiercely now that you can hardly keep still, your hips grinding back against him with a need that feels insatiable. His name falls from your lips in a desperate whisper, and that’s all it takes—everything inside you unravels at once, the tension snapping as the wave of pleasure crashes over you, hard and fast.

Your orgasm tears through you in sharp, rolling waves, leaving you gasping and clinging to him as your body pulses with release. Your inner walls tighten around his cock, squeezing him as you come, and the sensation of you contracting around him pushes him over the edge too.

"Shit—" His voice breaks, a deep, guttural sound ripped from his throat as his hips jerk against you, and you can feel him pulse inside you, hot and thick, as he spills himself into you. His entire body tenses behind you, his grip on your breast tightening for a moment as he moans into your neck, the sound low and desperate, a mix of relief and raw need.

For a few seconds, neither of you move, both lost in the aftershocks, the lingering spouts of pleasure rippling through your bodies. His chest is heaving against your back, his breath still coming in short, ragged bursts, and you can feel the rapid thud of his heartbeat pressed against your spine. Your own breath is shaky, your body still trembling from the intensity of your climax, but there’s a deep sense of satisfaction settling over you

Luke's arm around your waist loosens slightly, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he buries his face in the crook of your neck, his lips brushing your skin in soft, almost absent-minded kisses as you both come down from the high together. His cock still rests inside you, softening now, but neither of you are eager to break apart just yet.

"Fuck," Luke breathes after a long moment, his voice still rough with the remnants of pleasure. "That was incredible." His lips brush your shoulder, and his hand, now resting gently on your waist, gives a tender squeeze, his touch soft and affectionate.

You hum in response, a small, satisfied smile tugging at your lips. Your body feels listless, content, as if every muscle has melted into the mattress. You turn your head slightly to catch a glimpse of him over your shoulder, his eyes still half-lidded and heavy with the aftermath of release, a lazy grin tugging at the corners of his mouth as he begins to speak again. "You have the craziest bedhead right now."

My Patreon, where you can find exclusive fics not posted anywhere else: HERE

[cncohshit]

andrei svechnikov w/43 and 16 for the 1000 followers celly? congrats on 1000!

prompt no. 43: quiet sex while everyone is still sleeping + prompt no. 16 kissing you to shut you up

18+ under the cut

andrei’s body is a warm presence against your back, hands wrapping around your naked torso and keeping your pressed against his sweaty chest. his cock is sliding into your weeping entrance steadily, pelvis smacking against your ass as he spoons you.

you jaw is slack, breathless whimpers and hushed moans passing through your slick lips. it’s feels so good. he feels so fucking good. the sun is casting a golden glow through the room, further warming the space and keeping you quiet. his brother and sister in-law are only a wall away, sleeping peacefully while andrei pounds into your pussy.

the lewd, slick sounds make your belly tingle. it’s filthy and so much. andrei’s cock is stretching you so so so good, slipping in and out of your easily. the position has the tip of his cock hitting all the right places, making you arch and sigh and claw at his thigh helplessly—sheets that were once covering you both have now slipped down, exposing your dewy, naked and tangled bodies.

“shit,” andrei hisses by your ear, roughly grabbing at your tit, rolling your puffy nipple between his calloused finger tips. “that’s it. taking my cock so well, huh?”

you squeak—that’s all you can do when it feels like you’re being split open, his cock nestled so deep inside you that you can feel its bulging in your stomach. andrei’s other arm is wrapped around your neck, giving you just enough pressure to have you lightheaded.

it’s like heaven.

his thrusts speed up, pace almost too fast and too hard—angry head kissing your cervix with every relentless movement. you can’t help the loud mewl that leaves you, heel digging into the back of andrei’s thigh as you attempt at staying spread for him.

he curses again, roughly taking ahold of your chin and turning your head towards him—just enough to capture your lips in a lingering, messy kiss. it stifles your now unwavering moans, silencing you just enough to keep away prying ears—keeping your moment private and dirty.

—

(unedited)

[cncohshit]

3:56am - Andrei Svechnikov

Pairing: Andrei Svechnikov x Reader (f)

Summary: Andrei wakes up in the middle of the night and can't sleep.

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: Smut (18+ ONLY). Established relationship CNC, unprotected sex, creampie.

Author's Note: Surprise, @smileysvech & @pyotrkochetkov! You both sent this idea a while ago and it's been collecting dust on my shelf for several months but I was finally ready to bust it out for your reading pleasure. She's short and sweet but I hope y'all enjoy it all the same!

Masterlist

A dull throbbing in his stomach rouses him from sleep. What is that?

Slowly, groggily, Andrei blinks a few times, vision foggy as consciousness finds its way back to him. Soft light is starting to leak through the curtains, and he can make out your sleeping silhouette in the first bits of the morning sun. Your body rises and falls slowly as you breathe, fast asleep still. Dreaming, maybe.

He’s awake now. Awake enough to register that it’s early. And that the throbbing in his stomach, the one that woke him, is actually a raging hard on.

An exhale, a glance at the clock on the nightstand. 3:56am.

Then, he looks back toward you, admiring your form, so beautiful even when sleeping. His eyes trail over your figure, gaze tracing over your dips and curves as a memory of last night floods back to him: Sighs, moans, the feeling of your soft skin underneath his fingertips, of the type of pleasure he’s never had with anyone else. The thought alone earns a low pulse between his legs.

He sucks in a breath when he moves the sheet slightly to see your shirt—his shirt—riding up your back, and—no panties.

And fuck, if you aren’t still dripping. Even in the low light of the morning, he can see the way you glisten, drooling from your earlier tryst. He isn’t sure if it’s his cum or yours, briefly slipping back into a lusty daydream at the way you squeezed him, moaning out his name while your hips rolled in his lap, milking him for all he's worth. Apparently, you really liked the way he looked in his Whalers jersey—you made him keep the white and green sweatband on, now lying somewhere on the floor after you threatened to use it to tie his wrists together if he didn’t let you take control.

Almost as if on cue, his dick throbs against his leg, like it’s pleading with him to be inside you. He groans, moving to grip his cock in his hand and using the visual of your soaked cunt as inspiration. Briefly, he wonders if he should move to the bathroom to avoid waking you, but he can’t bring himself to move from the warmth of your body or the scent of your shampoo—it plays an important part in the stiff rigidity against his palm.

Andrei imagines his fist is your pussy, gripping himself tightly as he ascends into heaven. It’s not the same without your moans of encouragement, the cutest sounds that have him hard in seconds.

But no matter how hard he strokes, how good it feels, he can’t quite get there, feeling like he’s hit an invisible wall before reaching the finish line. He grunts, squeezing himself so tightly it hurts, and he releases his dick in frustration. He’s breathing embarrassingly heavy, heart ticking in his throat, willing the tightness in his balls to just go away.

The idea comes to him in a flash and he chews on the inside of his cheek, mulling it over.

Just the tip, he thinks, it’ll be fine. She told me it was fine.

For a moment, the only sound in the room is the steady hum of your breathing while he has an internal debate beside you. And then you shift, a soft sigh falling from your lips in the exact same way you sound when he buries himself inside you, and his dick twitches against his stomach.

Fuck it.

With far more patience than he thought he was capable of, he inches his hips forward, pausing to grit his teeth at the way his head bumps against your soft, wet lips. Slowly, he runs the tip along your slit, teasing you even in your sleep. You sigh out a sleepy moan, the sound escaping on an exhale, and he feels himself throb in the loose grip he has on his dick.

Steadily, achingly slowly, he nudges himself between your lips, pushing just into your entrance. His eyes are drawn to the subtle movement of your hips, your hips canting backward unconsciously to seek out more of the feeling. Andrei can’t help but smirk to himself, smug at the way you desperately yearn for him even in your sleep.

He’s halfway inside you when another moan sounds from your mouth, lips parted this time. He bites his own lip to stop from groaning too loudly so as not to wake you; the overwhelming urge to rail you into oblivion is nearly ready to take over and he isn’t even fully inside of you yet.

And then your back arches, unintentionally pressing him even further into you, and this time he can’t help the grunt that escapes him, or the way his hips push forward the last bit before he’s completely sheathed inside of you. The warmth of your cunt hugs him in a way that makes his eyes squeeze shut, feeling the way your walls throb around him in a way that his hand could never replicate.

Finally, pure bliss.

Soon enough, he’s moving experimentally, hyper aware of your movements, watching carefully to see if you’re awake. One hand grasps onto your hip, holding your body in place while he rolls his against you. His thrusts are slow, intentional, observing your reactions so he can earn that sweet, sleepy moan of yours again.

Very gradually, Andrei picks up his pace, burying himself to the hilt each time. With a glance down, he watches the way your ass presses against his hips with each push forward, hand itching to spank you. Instead, he occupies himself with pressing his chest against your back, leaning forward slightly to drape his arm over your hip, hand dancing over your mound. He teases alongside his leisuresome tempo, fingers working their way around your clit before finally landing on it. With another encouraging moan from you, he begins timing his thrusts forward with a brush of your clit.

It’s only a few moments later that a low, husky sigh leaves your mouth and your hips begin rolling against him of their own accord. You’re awake, and fuck, you want it. The way your body moves is uninhibited, using him to seek further pleasure and find your high.

“Andrei,” you whisper, far too strung out to ask how you got here, instead gripping onto the strong, flexing muscle of his bicep. Your tone is begging, though he wants to be sure what for before he continues.

“Yeah, kisa, what do you want?” he murmurs, lips pressing against your shoulder blade. His voice is soft, deep, and he can feel the way you clench around him at the sound of his voice.

You reply in a wanton moan, the words indiscernible. Although it pains him to do so, he stills the grinding of your hips. “What’s that, sweetheart?”

He almost laughs at the way you whimper when his large hand prevents you from resuming your gyration. You’re cute when you’re confused, when sleep is still heavy in your eyes despite the very awake sensations in your body.

“Drei,” you whisper, “please, fuck me.”

The desperation in your voice has him throbbing inside your walls, the sensation in turn earning a tight clench around him. He’s got a little bit of patience left, the smallest drop, enough to steady the slow push of his hips as he inches his way back inside you.

It’s worth it, he thinks, by the lilt of your moan. He’s teasing, riling the both of you up, relishing the delicious way you squeeze him. Another cry of his name has his resolve evaporating in an instant, snapping his hips forward as he buries himself to the hilt. The action earns a wail from your throat, encouraging him to keep going, setting a pace that’s patient but rough, hitting all of the right spots.

“Fuck,” he grunts, entwining his fingers with yours when your hands flail around in search of purchase, holding yourself steady to accept the force of his thrusts. It takes everything in him to stay focused, to keep a rhythm he knows is worth keeping by the way it’ll drive you lustfully mad for him.

The sensation of getting railed so deeply and so thoroughly while the shade of sleep still hasn’t been entirely shaken from your eyes is exquisite; still pliant beneath his hands, unable to control the whimpers that escape your throat.

“Andrei,” you moan, and he feels the impact directly in his balls. “Love how pretty you sound when you're all fucked out for me,” he purrs in your ear. “So slutty and needy, just for me, kisa. Tell me what you want.”

Another whimper follows his command, and he feels the way you clench tightly around him. “W-want you to—fuck—make me… come. Please.”

He breathes out his chuckle in a husky whisper. “Already, milaya?”

Your reply is a jumble of words that he can’t quite hear, so he slows his pace down to buy himself a little time; Andrei knows he won't last, knows that as soon as he feels the tidalwave of your orgasm begin, he'll lose it entirely, and sleep is too near for him to stave it off. So, he slows his pace down to buy himself some time when your reply is another jumble of words he can’t quite hear.

“Was dreaming—’bout you inside of me.”

“Fuck,” he says, the realization that you were already dreaming about him mere hours after he’d already ravaged you thoroughly hitting him square in the chest. The thought nearly makes him go dizzy. “You were already dreaming about this? About my cock fucking this gorgeous, needy pussy? That why you so wet for me, lyubimaya?”

“Always dream about your cock, Drei,” you say with a gasp when he thrusts his hips forward sharply in approval.

“Such a perfect little slut for me,” he groans. “Think maybe I will reward you by letting you come for me, again.”

All he gets in response from you is an eager cry, his hips punching forward and setting a new, quck rhythm that has the breath in your throat catching. It doesn’t take long for both of your releases to build back up to their boiling points, that delicious, bubbling heat reaching its crescendo at the place where your bodies meet.

For a moment, time stands still. There's a few blissful seconds just before the peak begins, those few glorious moments at the top of a roller coaster before the drop. Andrei feels like he could burst with love and joy—and sure, yes, burst with something else—and it's positively euphoric, like he's at the top of the world.

And then both of you erupt in mutual release, him spilling deep into your clenching core, your cry of ecstasy masking his deep, low grunt of your name. The world is ablaze, along with every sense and nerve in your bodies, pleasure blanketing you in a world of bliss.

When he finally comes to, he feels your skin against his chest first, warm against his panting chest. Your pussy, wet and warm and still wrapped snugly around his length, twitches weakly. Andrei allows his hand to stroke soft, gentle patterns onto your stomach as he prepares himself to pull out of your perfect heat.

Your small sigh of protest when he does has him clenching his jaw, willing the blood to not surge back to his dick. Then, carefully, shift your body to turn around and face him. Your eyes are still sleepy, but the dopey smile on your face makes his heart soar.

“That was fun,” you whisper, like you've only just realized how late—early?—it is.

“Couldn't help it, lyubimaya,” he says. “Needed you.”

You press a soft kiss to his lips and warmth fills his body. He tries to hide the way his knees wobble as he rolls off the bed to fetch a cloth to clean both of you up; afterward, he's slipping back underneath the covers, accepting your frame instantly into his arms.

“If we go back to sleep now,” you murmur, “there'll still be a chance for you to wake me up in the morning like this again.”

SIMILAR CONTENT

Sundress Season* Ruin Me* Glittery*

[cncohshit]

Jesperi Kotkaniemi | vs Sabres | 02.27.25

[cncohshit]

Rare Fight - Jesperi Kotkaniemi

a/n: so...like i mentioned before, i got requests mixed up and thought that i had a request for this pairing, but i in fact did not 🙃 so enjoy this little bonus fic!!

prompt 11: “I really want to kiss you right now.”

word count: ~1.2k

It all happened so quickly, you weren’t entirely sure what had even transpired. One second your eyes were trained on your boyfriend skating down the ice, you look away for a quick moment to chat with Andrei’s girlfriend about the hit the Russian just took to the knee, then suddenly, you notice your boyfriend dropping his gloves and going after the Isles player that landed the hit.

Jesperi was never one to fight, he never had any reason to, so to see him throw his mits and lunge for the opposing player, it was quite the sight to witness. You stand up, along with everyone else, your hands over your face in shock and surprise at the sight in front of you.

Jesperi’s jersey was being tugged on by the other, to the point where he wasn’t able to throw any punches. This leads to him ripping his arm from the sleeve to further the damage he wanted to do, his elbow pad going flying as he does. They quickly fall to the ice, with Jesperi’s tall body on top, his arms still locked around his target. The refs are finally able to pull them off of each other, the Finn instantly fixing his jersey and skating over to the penalty box.

The penalty announced didn’t even penalize the Isles player for the hit on Andrei, just for Jesperi, with two minutes for roughing, and five minutes for fighting. You groan and flop back into your seat, your eyes glued to the jumbo screen above as they showed the replay, wincing as you notice he landed a few hits himself.

The period ends with a one-point lead, the Islanders scoring just as the power play was ending and Jesperi was leaving the penalty box. Everyone around you cheers, except for the small group of wives and girlfriends you were with, who all sat in disbelief that they scored so quick after the penalty ends. A few of the girls look to you as Jesperi skates off the ice and down the tunnel, heading back to the locker room early to serve his five-minute penalty.

It was a hard fought game that ends with a loss in overtime, and you could tell the guys were taking it rough. But how could they not, they just lost two of their teammates and friends, they have two new teammates that they have only met in a more personal setting rather than professional, and have yet to get an understanding of how either truly play and if they’ll even have the same chemistry.

You and the other women head out of the arena and take an Uber back to the hotel closeby. Since they had two days off, and weren’t going to be flying back to Raleigh, they would be staying in the same hotel tonight to prepare for their game against the Ragners in a few days.

After showering and crawling into bed, you wait for your boyfriend to return, texting the other girls there as their significant others slowly come back, stating how down they were, and you knew Jesperi was going to be in the same boat, even more so with his fight.

Thankfully, he returns about an hour and a half after the end of the game, trudging through the door of your shared hotel room, dropping his bag on the ground near the dresser.

“Hi,” you murmur quietly, sitting up in your spot to greet him. He grumbles and drops onto the bed, instantly curling against your legs, his head resting on your stomach. His arms circle your waist and a heavy sigh escapes him, your own hands moving to trail over his tense shoulders. “Did you shower?”

He silently responds with a nod against your body, tightening his grip, making it clear that he wasn’t wanting to move.

“How hurt did you get?” You ask softly, continuing to caress his shoulders, moving down to run your fingers along his back.

After a couple minutes, Jesperi sits up and shows you his hand, which was bandaged lazily, assuming he just put something over it after his shower. Your eyes trail up his hand to his face, and you wince upon noticing the cut on his lip and eyebrow, as well as a small, swollen area on the apple of his cheek that was already starting to bruise.

“KK…” you exhale, hating to see him in pain. His expression falls when he hears the slightly stern tone in your voice, feeling defeated and preparing for you to scold him. “Did they even clean it up?”

“They did, but I took too hot of a shower and they split open.”

“Come here,” you throw the covers off your body and plant your socked feet on the floor, taking his good hand and practically dragging him to the bathroom. You sit him on the toilet and walk back out to your suitcase, where you always keep a small first aid kit for events like this. 

Walking back into the bathroom, you find Jesperi removing the soiled bandage and throwing it in the trash, a somber look on his face. A sigh passes your lips and you take his injured hand gently, wiping it with an alcohol wipe.

“I’m proud of you, you know,” you murmur after a few minutes, finishing up with his hand and wrapping it in some gauze. His eyebrows furrow together in confusion, wondering what you were referencing.

“What?” You can’t help the giggle that escapes you, cupping his cheeks in your hands after washing them.

“I’m proud of you for standing up for Svech. I know you rarely fight, but it was so nice seeing that, especially after the stressful twenty-four hours you guys have had,” you explain further, your thumb running over the marking just under his eye. It didn’t look too bad, it would probably just remain a small mark, to disappear in a few days, but it was still something.

“I saw the hit and it was all I could think about. All I could see was red. I didn’t even think twice about it,” he says, swallowing thickly as you caress the injury. Your eyes drop down to his lip, seeing that it was thankfully drying out, appearing to be well taken care of compared to his hand.

“It was amazing to see,” you smile. “I like seeing you fight.”

“Oh yeah?” He smirks up at you, his hands raising to rest on your hips and pull you closer.

“Mhm. It was definitely a sight.” Jesperi’s cheeks turn pink at your comment, his grin widening at the tone of your voice, dripping with hints of lust.

“You were turned on by it, weren’t you?” He teases, squeezing your hips, his hands slipping underneath your t-shirt, stroking the soft skin hidden by the fabric.

“Maybe,” you whisper, shifting closer to him in his grip. He takes it a step further and pulls you down to sit on his lap, straddling his body, which was still sitting on the closed toilet lid.

“I really want to kiss you right now,” he whispers back, blinking up at you so innocently, it makes you groan internally.

“You’re going to split your lip back open,” you retaliate, touching the small cut. He playfully swats your hand away and brings your face down to his, gripping your chin in a rather dominant manner.

“Like I give a shit. It’ll give be an excuse you to take care for me again.”

[cncohshit]

Jack Drury carolina misses you so bad king

Birthdays in Denver - Jack Drury

[gif credit goes to @pyotrkochetkov]

a/n: @smileysvech reached out to me a few days ago about potentially writing a birthday fic for the All-American prince, Jack Drury, and the rest was history!

summary: you and Jack celebrate his 25th birthday--his first one in Denver after he was uprooted from his life in Raleigh....

You wake up to the crisp, cool air of a Denver morning. The sun is still climbing the sky, peeking through the blinds of the apartment you share with Jack. It's his 25th birthday today, and you're eager to start the surprise you've been planning for weeks. You've noticed he's been a bit down, missing the camaraderie of his old teammates from the Hurricanes, and you want to show him that he's not alone in this new chapter of his life. You slip out of bed, careful not to disturb the gentle snores coming from Jack's side, and tiptoe into the kitchen.

You start by brewing a pot of his favorite coffee, something you picked up from a local roastery that reminds him of the small café near his old apartment in Raleigh. The smell of freshly ground beans fills the room as you prepare a simple yet hearty breakfast; you know he's been craving comfort food lately, a taste of home amidst the unfamiliar.

As you move through the apartment, you gather a few small gifts you've picked out, each one carefully chosen to reflect a shared memory or an inside joke from the time you've spent together. You wrap them in paper with a subtle mountain pattern, a nod to the Rockies that now serve as the backdrop to your lives. The gifts are simple, but you hope they convey the depth of your feelings.

You hear Jack stirring in the bedroom, and your heart skips a beat. It's showtime.

You hurry back to the bedside table and place the steaming mug of coffee next to him, along with the wrapped presents. As he opens his eyes, you lean in and whisper, "Happy Birthday," planting a soft kiss on his cheek. His eyes widen in surprise, and a sleepy smile stretches across his face as he sits up, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.

"What's all this?" he asks groggily, reaching for the mug.

You give him a mischievous smile. "It's your birthday, remember?"

Jack's eyes light up as he takes in the sight of the gifts and the smell of the coffee. He sits up, taking the mug from you, and wraps his arms around your waist. "You didn't have to do all this," he murmurs into your hair.

You lean into the warmth of his embrace. "But I wanted to. You deserve it, especially on your first birthday here in Denver."

Jack takes a sip of the coffee, savoring the familiar taste. "It's perfect. Thank you," he says, his voice filled with genuine appreciation.

You pull away slightly, taking his hand in yours. "But that's just the start. I've got a whole day planned for us."

Jack's smile grows as he sets the mug down and starts unwrapping the presents. Each one reveals a treasure trove of thoughtfulness: a book by his favorite author with a handwritten note from you on the inside cover, a framed photo of the two of you at the beach during your first vacation together, and a pair of socks with tiny hockey pucks on them, which makes him laugh out loud.

"These are amazing," he says, holding up the socks. "I can't believe you found these."

You laugh, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "I know how much you love a good gag gift. Now, let's get ready. We've got a full day ahead of us. Breakfast is going to get cold if we don't eat soon."

Jack nods, his eyes still sparkling with joy as he puts on the socks immediately. You both sit down at the small dining table, the sun now casting a warm glow over the room. The gifts are scattered between the plates of scrambled eggs and toast, and Jack takes his time savoring each bite, the comfort of your presence making everything taste even better.

After breakfast, you lead him to the living room where you've laid out a map of Denver, marked with little red hearts at various locations. "I know you've been missing your friends, but today is about us exploring this new city together," you explain.

Jack's eyes scan the map, curiosity piqued as he sees spots he's been meaning to visit since the trade. "Where to first?"

You smile, taking his hand. "We're starting with a hike at Red Rocks. It's a beautiful morning, and I thought some fresh air would do us good."

Jack nods, excitement growing. He throws on some sweats and a hoodie, and you both set off into the crisp morning. The drive is filled with laughter as you play a mixtape of his favorite songs from over the years, the car's speakers echoing with the soundtrack of your relationship.

At Red Rocks, the towering sandstone formations greet you, bathed in the soft early light. You choose an easy trail, one that winds through the rocks and offers panoramic views of the city in the distance. As you walk, Jack points out the landmarks he's learned in his short time here, and you share stories about the places you've discovered since moving in together. The conversation flows naturally, a blend of nostalgia and excitement for the future.

The air is cool and dry, with a hint of pine that fills your lungs as you climb. You both break into a light jog for a moment, the kind of spontaneous playfulness that's always been a hallmark of your relationship. You reach the top, breathless, and Jack pulls you into a hug. "This is perfect," he says, his voice filled with warmth. "I needed this."

You share a quiet moment, watching the city come to life below. The early risers are already making their way to work, their cars like ants in a line along the highway. You can see the Ball Arena in the distance, a silent monument to the passion that brought Jack here. You both sit on a rocky outcrop, the morning dew seeping through your pants as you take in the view.

The next stop on your surprise itinerary is the Denver Art Museum. You've been hearing about Jack's love for modern art, something that blossomed during his time in Raleigh. As you wander through the galleries, you're surprised by how much he knows about the pieces. He points out the brushstrokes and the emotions captured in the abstract shapes, explaining the stories behind the paintings with a passion that's contagious. You feel a sense of pride in seeing him in his element, sharing something he loves.

You meander through the exhibits, taking your time to appreciate the art, occasionally stopping to admire a piece that resonates with both of you. The air inside the museum is hushed, the only sounds the distant echoes of other visitors' footsteps and the occasional murmur of appreciation. It's a stark contrast to the noisy arenas where Jack usually spends his time, and you can see the peace it brings him.

As you move from one gallery to the next, you notice a painting that captures a moment of stillness amidst chaos, reminiscent of a quiet moment in the locker room before a big game. You gesture to it. "Jack, look at this one."

Jack's eyes light up as he approaches. "It's like the calm before the storm," he murmurs, lost in thought.

You nod, understanding the parallel all too well. "It's like us," you say softly. "Finding our quiet moments in the middle of everything."

Jack looks at you, his expression reflective. "Yeah," he agrees. "It really is."

Leaving the museum, you head to the next spot on your list: a cozy bookstore tucked away in the Highlands neighborhood. You know Jack has been searching for a rare book about the history of the NHL, and you've called ahead to ensure they have a copy waiting. The smell of aged pages and fresh ink fills your nostrils as you enter, a scent that always brings comfort.

Jack's eyes widen as he spots the book displayed on the counter. "You didn't have to," he says, but the excitement in his voice betrays his protest.

You smile, handing it to him. "I know how much you've been looking for this. Happy birthday, babe."

Jack flips through the pages, a child-like glee on his face. "This is incredible," he whispers, leaning in to kiss you. "Thank you."

You spend the next hour exploring the bookstore, your fingers tracing over the spines of books, sharing titles recommendations, and discussing the merits of various authors. The clinking of coffee cups from the adjoining café blends with the occasional crackle of the bookstore's old-fashioned sound system playing classic rock. It's a simple pleasure, but one that feels rich and meaningful in the context of the day you've crafted together.

As the sun starts to dip in the sky, casting long shadows across the city, you suggest heading home to prepare dinner. You've been practicing a new recipe, a twist on Jack's mom's famous lasagna, a dish that's been a staple at his birthday celebrations since you two started dating. You've made it a point to learn all his favorites, a way of bringing his past into your shared present.

Jack seems content as he flips through the book you've given him in the passenger seat. "You really know me," he says, looking up with a smile.

You return the smile as you navigate the car back to the apartment. "It's what you do when you love someone," you reply, glancing over briefly before returning your eyes to the road.

Once home, you both slip into your cooking rhythm, Jack sipping on a beer he grabbed from the fridge while you prep the ingredients. You've turned on some music, a mix of your favorite jazz tunes that always seem to keep the kitchen vibe light. The smell of garlic and tomato sauce fills the air, mingling with the aroma of the freshly baked bread you picked up the day before. The kitchen is a mess of chopped vegetables, cheese, and ground beef, but you don't mind. It's a mess that means love.

As you layer the lasagna, Jack sets the table with candles and a simple bouquet of flowers. You glance at him, his concentration on the task surprisingly weighty, and you can't help but feel a twinge of affection. He's never been one for fancy dinners out, always preferring the comfort of a home-cooked meal. It's these small gestures that make you realize how much he values your efforts to make him feel at home.

The oven timer dings, signaling that the lasagna is ready. You both pull it out, the cheesy top bubbling and browned to perfection. The apartment fills with the tantalizing aroma of melted cheese and spicy tomato sauce. You plate the food, adding a side salad and garlic bread. The flickering candles cast a warm glow over the dining table, making the space feel intimate and welcoming.

As you sit down to eat, Jack raises his glass of water. "To you," he says, his eyes meeting yours. "For making this birthday feel like home."

You clink your glass against his, feeling your cheeks warm with a blush. "To us," you reply, taking a sip. The lasagna is a hit, the flavors melding together just as well as the two of you have in the past few months. You watch as Jack's eyes close in satisfaction with each bite, his smile growing wider with every mouthful. It's moments like this that remind you why you put so much effort into the day.

After dinner, you clean up the kitchen together, the rhythm of your movements in sync, like a well-oiled machine. The conversation drifts to the rest of the season and his excitement to play in a new conference. You listen intently, asking questions about his teammates and the city's expectations. It's clear he's starting to feel more at home here, and that brings you a sense of peace.

You suggest a quiet night in, and Jack readily agrees. You both sink into the plush couch, the TV flickering with the glow of a movie you've watched a hundred times. It's one of those nights where the familiar comfort of each other's company is all you need. You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling the warmth of his body and the steady beat of his heart beneath your cheek. His arm wraps around you, fingers tracing lazy patterns on your arm, as the laughter from the screen fills the room.

As the movie plays, you find yourself lost in thought, watching the flicker of the screen reflect in Jack's eyes. He's been through so much in his career, the trade and the pressure to perform, and you know it's taken a toll on him. But here, in the quiet of your shared apartment, he seems to let his guard down, even if just for a little while. You cherish these moments, the real him, stripped of the hockey mask he so often wears in public.

The film ends, leaving a comfortable silence in its wake. You glance at the clock; it's later than you thought. "Cake time?" you ask, already knowing the answer.

Jack's eyes light up. "You got me a cake?"

You nod, standing up to grab the box you've stashed away in the fridge. It's from a local bakery, a small chocolate cake with a single candle on top. The flame dances in the dim light as you place it on the coffee table. "Make a wish," you whisper.

Jack grins, his eyes shining with excitement as he leans forward to blow out the candle. He takes a deep breath, and you hold your breath in anticipation. What could he possibly wish for? The room seems to hold still as the flame flickers out. "Wish made," he says, winking at you.

You cut the cake, the scent of rich chocolate wafting through the air as you serve a slice to him. He takes a bite, his eyes closing in pleasure. "Best birthday cake I've had in a long time," he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion.

You both sit cross-legged on the floor, eating cake straight from the plates, the cushions and blankets around you creating a cozy fort. The quietness of the apartment is a stark contrast to the usual cacophony of a birthday bash, but it's exactly what Jack needed. You watch as he savors each bite, the stress of the season and the weight of his new team slowly lifting from his shoulders.

After the last crumb of cake is gone, Jack pulls out a small gift of his own, hidden behind the couch. "I wasn't sure if I should give it to you now or wait," he says, his cheeks flushing slightly.

You take the present with a curious smile. "You didn't have to get me anything," you protest, but the excitement in his eyes makes you eager to see what he's chosen.

Jack laughs. "I wanted to. Open it."

You open the small box and let out a gasp. Inside was a ring, simple yet elegant. Your heart skips a beat as you look up at Jack, who is now on one knee, holding the ring in his trembling hand.

"You've been my rock through all the changes," he says, his eyes searching yours for an answer. "I want to spend every birthday with you, in every city, for the rest of my life."

You stare at the ring, your heart racing. "Jack," you manage to breathe, your voice barely a whisper.

Jack's eyes are filled with hope and vulnerability, and you see the fear of rejection flicker in them for a moment. But then you smile, the biggest smile you've ever given him, and his face relaxes. "Yes," you say.

"Wait, let me ask properly," Jack says, his cheeks reddening. He clears his throat and takes a deep breath. "Will you marry me?"

The world seems to stop around you as you look into his eyes, the earnestness of his question echoing in the quiet apartment. The ring in the box seems to grow brighter as you consider the gravity of his words. This is the man you've supported through the highs and lows, the one who's made you laugh when you thought you had no more laughter left, the one who's held you close through the darkest nights. You feel a lump in your throat as you nod, tears welling in your eyes.

"Yes," you say, the word feeling like a declaration of love that's been waiting to be spoken.

Jack's smile widens, his eyes sparkling with relief and joy. He takes your hand, sliding the ring onto your finger with a gentle touch. It fits perfectly, as if it had been made just for this moment.

You both stare at the ring for a moment, the reality of what just happened sinking in. You lean in to kiss him, the warmth of his lips a reassurance that this is real. The kiss deepens, filled with the promise of a future you hadn't quite allowed yourselves to dream of yet.

When you pull away, Jack's eyes are shimmering with happiness. "I've been carrying this around for weeks," he admits, a hint of sheepishness in his voice. "I wanted to do it right, but I didn't know if waiting was the right move."

You laugh, wiping a tear from your cheek. "It's perfect," you assure him, the ring feeling surprisingly right on your finger. "I couldn't have asked for a better proposal."

Jack's grin is contagious as he stands, pulling you into a tight embrace. His heart beats against your chest, and you realize that this is it: you're engaged to the love of your life, in the quiet solitude of your apartment on his birthday. The simplicity of the moment is what makes it so beautiful, a stark contrast to the glitz and glamour of the world you both usually inhabit.

As you sit back down on the couch, Jack's hand doesn't leave yours. The ring feels surprisingly right, a symbol of the unspoken promises you've made to each other over the years. You snuggle closer, the warmth of the couch and each other's bodies a comfort after the adrenaline rush of the proposal.

The TV is still playing, but the background noise fades away as you both look into each other's eyes, the weight of your new commitment hanging in the air like a soft snowflake that's just landed.

Jack squeezes your hand. "So, what do you say to making some more memories in this city?" he asks, his voice low and filled with excitement.

You nod, your heart still racing. "I'd love that."

Jack grins, leaning in to kiss you again. This kiss is softer, filled with the promise of a lifetime of moments like this. "Good," he says, his voice a low rumble against your lips. "Because I've got a few more surprises up my sleeve."

[cncohshit]

Theyre so cute i cant

This was such a pleasant surprise to wake up to this morning. Just look at these two sweet boys. 🥹

[cncohshit]

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69​

Tagging: @thirteenisles​ @laurenairay​ @texanstarslove​ @mcmo-anon​ @ohpuckyeah​ @zuucc​ @whatishockey​ @great-puck-work​ @canadianheaters​ @denis-scorianov​ @notaccurateornice​ @marcostandella​ @mems06​ @hattrickkane​ @newlibrary @iamtheblondestblonde

Relationship: Andrei Svechnikov x Fem!OC

Summary: Andrei has had a crush on Katarina since he met her his rookie year. The problem? She’s six years older than him and only sees him as a kid. Now entering his third year in the league, he’s not a kid anymore and he’s ready to prove that to her. 

Word Count: 35k

Warnings: Smut. Alcohol. Mentions of a toxic relationship. Sexual choking.

Disclaimer: Yes, the title is from The Great Gatsby! 

Comments: I had so much fun writing this and I can’t believe that it’s finally done 😭😭😭 I’m not ready to say goodbye to Kat and Svech!!! 

Link to playlist

© nat g. 2021 // do not repost, do not claim as your own

Keep reading

[cncohshit]

Author: Nat / @idontgiveaflyinggrayson69​

Tagging: @ryanpulock​ @texanstarslove​ @charlie-theangelwrites​ @suitandtys​

Relationship: Pre-Established; Andrei Svechnikov x Fem!OC

Summary: Zara’s sister is getting married in Tulum and her lie about having a boyfriend ends up being more than she bargained for.

Word Count: 36k

Warnings: Alcohol. Smut. Public sexual activities. Questionable family dynamics.

Comments: This is my fic for Demi ( @antoineroussel​ ) for her Summer 2k22 Fic Exchange! I’m SO sorry that this is so late and thank you so much for being patient!!! I really hope you like it!!! I know how much you liked Kat and Andrei so… I decided to go in that direction. I hope you enjoy!!! xx

Link to playlist

Donate to Ukraine here

© nat g. 2022 // do not repost, do not claim as your own

Keep reading

[cncohshit]

୨୧ the hoodie ; lh43

➪ summary: she'd always thought she wasn't pretty enough for luke, but that all changes with an invitation to the hughes' lake house and luke's hoodie

➪ warnings: reader is insecure/insecurities, reader compares herself to other girls

➪ word count: 3.1k

➪ cupid's notes: i have to say, this is by far one of my favorite fics I've written and by the previous feedback and support i got for it, i would assume it's one of your favorites of mine as well. this is for my mid/plus-sized girlies, coming from one. i hope you all enjoy this one again! :)

© cupidbedsy ; do not copy, repost, or translate my work and designs on any other website or here

A lot of the time it felt like that was the only feature people noticed about her. Not that she was funny, or smart, or insanely good at making a spreadsheet for anything and everything. It was the fact that she was fat, or excuse people’s language, curvy. It had been what labeled her for her whole life it seemed like. And no matter how hard she tried to stop it from happening, it never did. 

She heard the whispers every time she was in the hallways in high school, every time she sat down and the chair would creek even the slightest bit, every time she’d accidentally brush someone’s shoulder. It was horrible, something that would haunt her for years to come no matter what happened. 

When she went off to college, her voice was the only one that stayed with her. She met Luke through mutual friends and while she loved their relationship, she always thought it put a damper on her mind especially when she realized she liked him. Luke was Luke, he was tall, handsome, adorable, cute, charming, and all of the above. And on the inside, he was funny, smart, kind, nice, everything a girl could ever love. He made it impossible not to fall for him.

But why would Luke want her, when he could have anyone he ever wanted? This put a strain on their friendship during sophomore year especially. She would go to games, supporting the hell out of him because he asked her to be there. And always somewhere further down the row, in a different section, wherever, there was a group of girls who looked nothing like her in her opinion. They were skinny, and pretty, they wore outfits that looked not only good on them but just good in general. 

They were standing there, looking like that, while she looked like this. Wearing leggings that were too tight to make her look thinner, they pressed too hard on her stomach. Wearing the largest sweatshirt in her closet to hide the way her hips bulged a little, to hide everything if she was honest. And while she knew it shouldn’t have bothered her, that she shouldn’t have been mad at them, she couldn’t help it.

However, when she was around him and it was just the two of them, she couldn’t help but notice the thoughts dissipate. There was something about him that made her forget what she was thinking, forget what she was feeling besides happiness. He made her feel beautiful even if he didn’t know it. 

But, when he went away to New Jersey, there was no one to block out those thoughts anymore. Every day she thought negative things about herself, and compared herself to her friends, to those she passed on the way to class, those in the dining hall, everyone. She was left feeling alone with her thoughts, which made her feel all the worse. 

In the weeks following her last day of class, she got a text from Luke. He had asked her to go to the lake house in Michigan. She wasn’t expecting it, to say the least. It meant that she would have to spend at least a week around Luke and his brothers and their friends in shorts and shirts. The things that made her uncomfortable when she was alone. 

She reluctantly agreed to his invitation and the only reason she did agree was because she knew Luke wouldn’t stop texting her and calling her until she said yes. She didn’t like summer, it meant that she couldn’t resort to her long sleeves and leggings due to the temperature. It was too hot for that. At least when she was at her own house, it wasn’t bad, she could do that and wouldn’t be hot due to her being able to set the house to a cooler temperature. 

But, Luke was Luke, and it was hard to ignore him. They hadn’t seen each other since he left for New Jersey, keeping up only through texts and FaceTime (which was not her favorite thing in the world). So, when that text came through that she had said yes to coming, he was bouncing off the walls for hours. He had run to tell Jack and Quinn, immediately, yelling at them to get a room set up for her and to make Trevor and Cole or whoever share one. 

It was rare that Luke got excited to see someone besides his brothers and his closest friends, so when Quinn and Jack heard him rambling a million miles an hour, they knew that this “friend” was special. Luke picked her up from the airport, having flown in from her home state. He was quick to bring her bags to the car for her, open up the passenger side door, and everything in between.

When he saw what she was wearing, he curled an eyebrow, “Aren’t you hot?”

“W-what? No.”

“Y/n/n, you’re wearing a literal sheep right now and it’s like 80 degrees.”

“I’ll have you know, I’m quite comfy.”

“Whatever you say.” He muttered but he made sure to turn the AC on full blast so she wouldn’t overheat more than she already was.

Y/n was trying to prolong the time she would have to be around Luke, and his brothers and their friends, in shorts and t-shirts and tank tops. And while she knew it was going to have to happen soon, it didn’t mean that it had to happen now. She was beyond grateful that Luke turned the AC on, it was a blessing in disguise. 

When they pulled up to the house, he wasted no time in doing the same things he did at the airport; grabbing her luggage, opening her door, and leading her up the steps. He opened the door with his elbow and pushed it open with his back, or well more or less his butt. Y/n giggled at the action and stepped inside after him, looking around in disbelief, “Can’t believe you get to spend every summer here.”

“Yeah, kind of lucky to have two-”

“Heads up!”

The two turned to see Jack hurling a football in their direction and Luke dropped her things to catch it. Due to Luke’s reaction time, he spared his best friend from getting hit in the face, “Dude!”

Y/n stood in shock, blinking even as Luke’s hand was taken away from her face. Jack winced, “Sorry.”

Luke threw it back at him and hit him square in the head, “Well, that’s Jack, which means…”

As he trailed off two more voices and two pairs of footsteps came from the hallway, “Cole and Trevor aren’t too far behind him. Blonde one is Cole, the douchey-looking one is Trevor.”

“Douchey?”

She stood there in the entranceway, raising a hand as if to say hi. Trevor and Cole walked in and took her bags for her, “M’lady.”

She giggled again as she watched the two bumble around the house like idiots, all while Luke’s face heated up in embarrassment. When she looked at him she threaded her arm around his waist, “Don’t worry. I have my bunch of idiots back home. They don’t compare honestly.”

Luke’s arm wrapped around her shoulders in habit, slightly tightening as a way to ground himself. He looked over at her to see her still watching the three 22-year-olds, who were now dancing around the living room playing Just Dance. His eyes were filled with fondness, he couldn’t remember the last time or if there was ever a time he felt like this about someone. 

“You must be y/n! I’m Quinn, Luke’s oldest brother.”

Y/n smiled at him and Luke swore he could’ve died right there, “Nice to meet you, Quinn. Oh! I saw your guys’ last few games of the season, you guys played well.”

Quinn’s cheeks flushed, “Oh, thanks. Well, listen, your room is right next to Luke’s if you need anything. Anything in the kitchen you are more than welcome to have, we do have some things that if you want to cook you can. The bathroom is at the end of the hallway and the campfire is out back. I won’t tell, but I’m fine if you drink, just don’t do it outside the property or when our parents get here.”

She nods, trying to keep up with all the information he is spitting at her. He walked away and let the two be on their own, going back to his room. Luke picked back up her things and led her into the hallway and to her room. He placed her bags on the foot of the bed and looked back at her, “Well, I’ll let you get settled. I think we’re going out on the boat tonight.”

She didn’t think it would be this soon that she would have to wear them. Luke could see the panic that showed in her eyes for a brief moment, “Are you okay?”

“Oh, yeah. I'm just not a huge fan of the water.”

“Oh, that’s okay! You don’t have to go in it if you don’t want to.”

That sent some relief through her body, “Okay.”

“I’ll come back when we’re ready to go, okay?”

She nods and watches as he leaves, worried about what was to come.

ﾟ+*:୨୧:*﹤

Two hours later, Luke came back into her room. He knocked before coming in, of course, looking down, “Hey we’re just about- holy shit.”

Y/n stood there in her ripped jean shorts that didn’t come down fully because she had gotten them last year, her oversized UMich hockey shirt that was beginning to fade from the number of times she’d put it through the wash. Her hair was in two braids with her UMich baseball hat on and her makeup was done in the slightest bit. She was wearing a pair of gym shoes, her trusted ones that she’s had since she started college. When she heard Luke’s voice and then it cut off, she shied away, wrapping her arms around her waist.

“What?”

“Nothing, you just look-”

Here it comes. The fat jokes, the “you should get clothes that actually fit you” monologue, the snide remarks about her working out, and everything in between. But what hurt more, was that it was going to come from Luke, her best friend, her crush, her seemingly everything. The one who made her forget about those things.

“Really pretty.”

Her head snapped up and her eyes opened wide, “I- what?”

Luke’s face flushed, “You look pretty. Um, we’re getting ready to go! You ready?”

“Oh, uh yeah.”

“Did he really just call me pretty?” Her thoughts ran a thousand miles an hour as she grabbed her bag from the bed and followed Luke. There was no way he said that, was she imagining things? What had she eaten for lunch? 

Luke helped her onto the boat, holding her hand as she stepped up. She sat down and immediately pulled out her computer, connecting it to her portable hotspot. The boys watched her both in confusion and awe, but Jack was the only one to speak up, “Why are you on your laptop? Dude, you’re gonna get it wet.”

“I just have to do something quick.”

Jack watched from beside her as she pulled up her spreadsheets and started typing information in it, “Holy shit,”

That was the second one of the day, and both of them had been directed at her, “What now?”

“Dude, these are insane.”

He stole the laptop and started scrolling. Now she felt ten times more embarrassed than she was before, “It’s nothing.”

Luke was the next to steal the computer, sitting in awe at the payrolls among other stuff she created, “Damn girl. How much free time do you have?”

She toyed with the ends of her shorts, starting to fray, “A lot.”

She was glad once they moved on from the topic and she was able to shove her computer back in her bag after updating a few things. She watched as the boys went out on the water, Luke staying with her, claiming that he didn’t want to go in the water either. However, as time went on it got colder and colder, yet none of them wanted to go back.

It was now nighttime and y/n was cold from the drastic temperature change. Luke watched as she shivered and instantly took off his sweatshirt and handed it to her, “Here.”

Her eyes looked between him and his hoodie before shaking her head, “I’m okay.”

His eyes softened, growing increasingly worried and confused, “Y/n/n you have goosebumps all along your arms. You’re not ‘okay’.”

“No, I promise. I’m okay.”

“Please.”

She hesitantly took it and unfolded it to hold it up and look at the size. This had always been a worry for her, fitting into other people’s clothes especially when it came to boys. Sure they were ‘bigger’ than her, height-wise and all, but was that enough to counteract? She nervously put her arms through it, being careful not to stretch it out. She pulled it over her head and was pleasantly surprised when it fit a little baggy on her. 

However, her mind clouded with negative thoughts and it started yelling at her that she was the one that stretched it out, that that was the reason why it was baggy. She looked up at him with tears in her eyes, “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing.”

“Hey, it’s okay. You can tell me.”

She tugged slightly on the hoodie, feeling it start to cling to her impossibly tight. It wasn’t the hoodie, it was her mind making her think that it was smaller than it was. She tried to get out of Luke’s gaze but it was no use. She cursed to herself before looking out at the water, watching the boys splash each other like immature 10-year-olds, “I’ve never been the skinniest girl out there, Luke.”

Her words caused him to frown. ‘Is that seriously what she’s worried about?’ He brought his right hand up to her face, placing her chin in between his index finger and his thumb. He turned her head so her eyes had no choice but to look at him, “You listen to me. You are beautiful, okay? You are the prettiest girl I have ever laid eyes on.”

She moved her head away from his grasp and wrapped her arms in front of her stomach. Luke was determined to convince her that he wanted her. That she was the only one for him, so despite her worries and insecurities, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her into his lap. She yelped in surprise and as soon as her butt touched his legs and squirmed, “Let me go, Luke.”

“No.” His voice was stern as he spoke. 

“Please, Lu.” 

“I’m sorry but I don’t think I can. Not when you are talking about yourself like this, out loud or in that beautiful head of yours. Listen, y/n/n, I know it’s hard, believe me. And while I might not know exactly what you’re going through, I have had my fair share of insecurities myself. You are gorgeous and I love every single part of you there is, okay? I cannot tell you one moment that I have seen you look ugly.”

Completely brushing over the fact that he said ‘I love’, she continued trying to prove him wrong, “What about that-”

“Nope! Doesn’t exist. And I’m going to tell you that if you do not come to at least one game of mine next season, wearing my jersey I might lose it.”

Luke’s words had her blushing in an instant but her mind did not want happiness to be a thing tonight. Her thoughts of this being a prank clouded the intense blissfulness she felt for a few seconds, “Why?”

“Why what, sweet girl?”

The nickname passed over her, “Me. Why me?”

“I’m going to tell you my favorite moment of you and then we’ll see if you know why,” He removed one of his arms from her waist to wrap his fingers around the back of her neck and rub his thumb against her cheek before continuing, “Freshman year. First game you ever went to. I had just bought you a jersey and wrote on the back of it with a sharpie my name and my number. It wasn’t the prettiest thing in the world, obviously because that’s you, but it made sure everyone knew you were supporting me. You wore it with those jeans that I like, the ones with the rhinestones bordering the pockets, and you wore these gym shoes, the ones you’re wearing right now. You had your hair in two ponytails and this hat,” He flicked the brim of it, “and you brought two of your other friends for whom the life of me I cannot remember.

“But you stood for the whole game with this little pompom thing in your hand, cheering every time someone got a goal and booing every time whoever we were playing got one. And then after the game I met you outside and then we went to go get ice cream and you got vanilla with sprinkles and we tasted each other’s because I kept looking over at yours and you finally gave in. And then I took you back to your dorm and you stole my beanie. Which you didn’t give back for another two weeks.”

Her eyes watered as she listened to him, “Y/n/n. Don’t cry, please.”

She shook her head, “I’m not, I promise.”

“No matter how long it takes, what it takes, I am going to prove to you that you are beautiful no matter what anyone says. And as long as you love yourself, that’s all that matters. But you’ll always have my love, okay?”

“You love me?”

“Of course I do! I know we haven’t really dated, but when you know you know.”

She smiled at him and closed her eyes when his lips made contact with her forehead, and then her cheek, “Can I kiss you?”

She nodded and leaned in to meet him halfway. Once their lips connected they heard ‘whoops’ from the water. They pulled away, both red in the face. And as they drove back, y/n sat next to Luke with her head on his shoulder and his hand resting comfortably on her thigh.

LH43 MASTERLIST ; NHL MASTERLIST

TAGLIST ; NAVIGATION

[cncohshit]

5 mins and a hair tie

As requested

Im going to make out with u sloppy style for this

[cncohshit]

lukes fingers.

"You deserve this," Luke rasps, lips next to your ear, your back against his chest, sitting between his legs with one arm secure around your waist while his other has two fingers in your mouth. The pads of his fingertips lie flat on your tongue as you suck, spit drooling down your chin. "You're so good, angel. Have I ever told you that? How you're a good girl for me?"

You moan in response, swirling your tongue around his fingers before sensually continuing to suck on his long fingers, his cock solid and poking into your lower back. He presses slow kisses to your cheek, trailing to your neck and licking over the skin, teeth nipping and your eyes flutter close. His other arm unwinds from your waist, palm soothing over your skin and sliding under your panties, jolts sparking through you when his fingers meet your clit and start circling the bud. He chuckles deeply, leaning back onto the pillows and keeping you trapped against him.

The suction around his fingers hardens, and your moaning vibrates down his wrist in a way that has him groaning into your neck. His own fingers slip through your folds, spreading your arousal, brushing over your entrance before returning to your clit and massaging with a pressure between gentle and firm, the perfect pressure that sends a swirling tingling to your stomach, making your thighs clench. Luke hooks his ankles around yours, pulling your legs apart and locking them open, relishing in your little whimpers.

He glides his finger into your cunt, smiling when the pressure on his fingers in your mouth increases, humming over your walls taking him snugly as he pumps in languid motions, "You like using your mouth that much, huh? No wonder you were begging for me. Fuck, you feel so good, so warm."

You buck your hips in the same rhythm as his fingers inside you, screwing your eyes shut in pleasure when he enters another, two fingers stretching your walls with bliss washing over you. You're in heaven, a different world than he is, sucking on the fingers gagging you while his others curl and pet your spongey spot with his own sense of yearning.

"Awe, you're so cute, if only you could suck my cock, hm?" a moan rumbles from his throat when you reach behind and tangle your fingers in his hair, tugging on the strands.

Ecstasy punishes you, makes your moaning louder and looser, crave a high that only Luke’s fingers can bring you and drives your starvation for his cock off the rails until you’re urgently sucking his fingers like it’s the last thing you’ll do, until it brings you breathless. Your hand wraps around his wrist and you pull his fingers from your lips, panting and letting your head lull against his shoulder. He kisses your temple sweetly as if his other hand isn't plunging his fingers into you with haste.

"Please, Lu, please let me suck your cock. Please, I'll give you the best head of your life." You mewl just a bit too loud for being at the lake, stimulation rattling through to your bones. Luke presses his fingertips to your bottom lip, his chest bubbling in pleasure feeling you writhe against him in desperation, in feeling your pussy throb.

"Can't, baby. There are too many people home and you drive me insane, can't help myself. Open." He murmurs, gently guiding your mouth to open and he inserts his fingers back into your mouth, letting you close around them, smiling when your tongue spirals and lips suck once again. "Good girl."

[cncohshit]

ultimate girl boss ⎜l.hughes

pairings: luke hughes x afab!reader genre: romance ⎜smut ⎜ strangers-to-lovers? ⎜ warnings: mentions of alcohol ⎜oral (f!recieving) ⎜ use of pet names (princes) ⎜ kitchen sex ⎜ one night stand ⎜fingering ⎜ p in v ⎜luke is a bit of a dork ⎜ he falls first and he falls harder ⎜size kink...kinda? ⎜mentions of pain with sex ⎜both luke and the reader love the miscommunication trope ⎜ short and sweet tbh ⎜ synopsis: you know you shouldn't have slept with a player, but it's not like you'd really see him again, right? word count: 7.7k authors note:  this was a top contender in my what to finish next poll so I hope you all enjoy!!

(unedited)

“I want to thank everyone for being here tonight — and want to say I’m sure we’re all excited to kick off our first ever staff and players halloween party.” Your friend says into the mic, everyone letting out cheers in response, “I know we usually have seperate parties but this year we want the staff and players to really get to know each other and what better way to do that then by getting completely hammered with each other.” He says says letting out a soft cheer when the rest of the room stays quiet, the hushed chuckle here and there. “Anyway I hope everyone has fun and please remember an open bar doesn’t mean you can damage property, I’m looking at you Timo.” You clap slowly as your friend climbs down from his spot on the bar table, his cheeks flushed a bright red as he joins you in leaning against the bar. 

“That felt awkward — did it look awkward?” He asks slowly, accepting the beer bottle from the bar tender with a grimace. 

“It did look awkward.” You agree, taking a sip of your lemonade reaching over to pat his hand softly in reassurance, “Dawson everyone loves you because you’re awkward so don’t think too much about it.” Dawson perks up as one of his teammates calls his name, bounding away from the bar his hair fanning out from under his cap.  You’re still smiling to yourself when someone slides into the spot Dawson left open.

“You really sticking to lemonade all night?” a familiar voice says, smooth and amused, cutting through the music and chatter around you. You glance sideways — and there he is. Luke Hughes. In a bright green shirt, overalls, and a little green hat with a giant “L” on it. Luigi. Of course.

You can’t help but laugh. “I don’t know if I’m more surprised you’re dressed as Luigi or that Jack actually agreed to be Mario.”

Luke’s grin is boyish and crooked, the kind of grin that makes trouble look like a good idea. “Trust me, it wasn’t easy. Took a week of convincing and a few beers.”

“And here I thought sibling pressure only worked on younger brothers.”

He leans an elbow on the bar, watching you with a playful glint in his eye. “Oh, it definitely works both ways. Besides, you can’t be Mario without Luigi. We’re a package deal.”

“Cute,” you say, taking a sip of your drink. “I’m sure jack’s girlfriend thinks the same.” You tease, both of you glancing over at the tall blonde dressed as Princess Peach, the girl sticking close to her boyfriend’s side as he mingles with his teammates. “You didn’t want to stick with you ‘package deal’?” 

Luke smirks, tapping a finger against the bar. “Jack likes to wander off — probably challenging someone to a drinking game.”

“Sounds about right.” You pause, letting your eyes sweep over him. “So, what? You decided to make rounds as everyone’s favourite sidekick?”

His smile widens. “Who says I’m a sidekick?”

You arch a brow. “You are Luigi.”

“Yeah, well, maybe I’m just here to rescue Princess Peach,” he teases, leaning in a little, you shoot a questioning gaze over to his brothers girlfriend. 

“She does look like she needs saving.” 

He shakes his head with a smile as his voice lowers, playful but laced with something that makes your heart skip. “Or maybe I’m here to make sure someone’s getting to know the players, like Dawson said.”

Your pulse jumps at his proximity, but you keep your cool. “So, I’m the metaphorical Peach in this scenario?”

Luke’s eyes flicker with amusement, lingering on yours for a beat too long. “Would that be so bad?”

You tilt your head, pretending to consider. “Hmm. I don’t know. I’ve always been more of a Toad kind of girl.”

He laughs, shaking his head, the sound warm and genuine. “Yeah? I can see that.”

“And what’s that supposed to mean?”

Luke raises both hands in mock surrender, still grinning. “Nothing. Just that you’d make a pretty cute Peach, too.”

You roll your eyes, but there’s no hiding your smile. “Is this how you plan to win me over? Bad Mario references?”

“Is it working?”

You don’t answer right away. Instead, you finish your drink, set the glass on the bar, and meet his gaze head-on.

“Maybe.”

His grin sharpens. “Then I guess I’ll keep going.”

You let the word hang between you for a beat, the teasing lilt of your voice lingering in the air. Luke watches you, his grin never quite fading, a flicker of curiosity sparking in his dark eyes. The party buzzes on around you both—music pulsing, laughter spilling from groups of people in costumes, but none of it seems to matter right now.

“So,” he says, tapping his knuckles lightly on the bar, “you planning on heading out early, or are you here for the long haul?” You glance around the room, spotting Dawson across the way engaged in an animated conversation with another teammate. A few more familiar faces pass by, offering smiles and nods, but your attention drifts back to Luke almost immediately.

“Honestly?” You shrug, a casual, playful expression crossing your face. “I haven’t decided yet.”

Luke leans in a little closer, elbows resting on the bar. “What would it take to convince you to stick around?”

You give him a slow, considering look, letting the question settle in your mind before answering. “Depends. What’s in it for me?”

He laughs, low and soft, shaking his head. “That’s a dangerous question.”

“Maybe I like danger.”

Luke’s gaze lingers, his smile never wavering. “Alright. What if I promised to make it worth your while?”

You raise an eyebrow, amusement flickering across your face. “Big promises from Luigi.”

“I deliver on my promises.” He pauses, his voice dropping slightly, a teasing edge in his tone. “Especially when it comes to rescuing princesses.”

The playful banter between you feels like a dance, each word carefully chosen, each glance lingering just a fraction too long. There’s a buzz in the air—a tension that neither of you seems in a rush to break.

“Alright, Luigi,” you say, setting your empty glass down on the bar. “Convince me.” Luke doesn’t take long to whisk you to the dance floor, the lanky man awkwardly moving his limbs along yours, the smile lighting up his face convincing others to join in, the dance floor filling up quickly. 

Luke’s hands stay linked with yours as he spins you around, twisting your bodies totally off beat, “White girl dancing is my favourite.” He yells over the music, his movements mimicking the slow, seductive sways of a sorority girl. 

“I can tell.” You laugh, your eye catching Dawson’s over the crowd as he pumps his eyebrows in knowing, your shoulders shrugging as you lose yourself back in the feeling of Luke’s god awful dancing. 

It’s two hours before you pull yourself away from the crowd, Luke following behind you like a lost puppy as you reach the bar, skulling the glass of water the bartender offers you. “So, have I convinced you to stay?” Luke smiles, leaning against the counter as he accepts his own glass of water. 

“I suppose.” You smile, placing your empty glass back on the table as you rifle through your purse for your keys. You glance up at Luke his face dropping as you watches you gather your stuff, your witch hat sitting on the bar as you check you have all your belongings. 

“I guess my convincing wasn’t good enough.” He sighs, trying to keep a light smile on his face so you can’t see the disappointment in his eyes. Luke was having fun, finally being able to seperate himself from his brother, he thought you were having fun too - the pretty girl from the head offices finally letting loose all because cause of the borderline frat boy dressed as Luigi. 

But clearly he was wrong. 

“I guess I’ll see you around.” He says, watching as you tilt your head, your brows furrowing as you chew on your bottom lip. 

“Wow, didn’t know you wanted to get rid of me so quickly.” You tease, reaching up for the collar of his costume pulling him down until his ear is level with your mouth, “I was going to ask if you wanted to come with me.” You whisper, Luke’s spine straightening quickly, his eyes locking with yours in surprise. “Guess I know where you stand now, Luigi.” You sigh dramatically, making the move to turn and walk out when his hand latches to your wrist. 

“Wait…Wait…” He stutters, his brows still pinched in confusion, “You want me to come home with you?” 

You quirk a brow, a smirk playing at the corner of your lips. "Why else would I ask? To play Mario Kart?" Luke looks momentarily stunned, his hand tightening slightly around your wrist before he catches himself and lets go, running a hand through his messy hair beneath the green cap. He swallows hard, the playful confidence from earlier faltering just a little, replaced by something more raw, more unsure.

Maybe he wasn’t wrong after all. 

“I—I didn’t think…” He trails off, his gaze flickering from your eyes to your mouth and back again, as if trying to gauge if you're serious or just messing with him.

You lean in again, your voice soft but unmistakably deliberate. "What, you didn’t think I’d actually be interested?" His lips part slightly, but no words come out. The party noise seems to fade into the background — the music, the laughter, the clinking of glasses all muffling under the pounding of your heart in your ears.

“I’ve seen the way you’ve been watching me tonight,” you say, your voice low but steady, your eyes locked on his.

“And I’m not blind, Luke. You’ve been flirting since the second you walked over here in that ridiculous costume.”

His cheeks flush a deep pink, but that boyish, crooked grin of his creeps back onto his face. “Maybe I have.”

“And maybe I don’t want the night to end just yet,” you say, your fingers brushing against his arm, trailing down until your hand rests lightly on his wrist again. The tension is thick now — electric and undeniable. Luke steps in closer, closing the space between you. His voice drops to a low murmur, just for you. 

“If I say yes, I’m not just coming over for coffee.”

You bite back a grin, eyes flickering to his lips before meeting his gaze again. “Good. I don’t even have coffee at home.” That does it — the playful edge in his grin gives way to something hungrier, more intense. His hand finds your hip, fingers pressing lightly through the fabric of your dress. 

“I’ve never liked coffee anyway.” The air between you hums with anticipation, both of you lingering in that charged moment, knowing exactly what’s coming but savouring the tension for just a little longer.

“Come on, Luigi,” you whisper, stepping back and tugging him toward the door. “Time to see if you really deliver on your promises.” Luke follows without hesitation, his hand still wrapped around yours, the warmth of his palm grounding you both in the moment. As you weave through the crowd, you catch Dawson’s wide-eyed expression from across the room. He mouths what the fuck? at you, but you just flash him a grin over your shoulder. Outside, the cool night air hits your skin, but you barely notice. Luke’s presence next to you, the way his fingers tighten around yours, the way his arm brushes against yours as you walk to your car — it’s all-consuming.

“So,” he says after a beat, voice lighter now but still laced with that playful tension. “Does this mean I’m officially more than just a sidekick?”

You glance up at him as you unlock your car, the smirk on your lips teasing but your gaze soft. “Depends.”

“On what?”

You step in closer, your body nearly pressed against his. “On how well you play the hero.”

Luke leans down, his face inches from yours, his breath warm against your skin. “I’m pretty sure I can pull it off.”

“Then what are you waiting for?” It’s all the invitation he needs. His hands cup your face as he closes the gap, his lips finding  yours with a mix of urgency and sweetness that leaves you breathless. There’s no hesitation, no second-guessing — just the two of you, completely lost in each other.

When he finally pulls back, both of you are breathless, his forehead resting against yours.

“Better than Mario Kart?” he whispers, his voice rough and a little unsteady.

You laugh softly, fingers curling into the fabric of his overalls to keep him close. “Much better.”

Luke grins, his eyes dark with desire but softened by something more genuine beneath it all. “Good. Because I’m not done rescuing you yet.”

You press one more lingering kiss to his lips before stepping back and opening the car door. “Then let’s get out of here, hero.” As he climbs into the passenger seat, pulling the ridiculous green hat off and tossing it into the backseat with a chuckle, you can’t help but think that maybe — just maybe — this Halloween party wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Luke settles into the passenger seat, stretching his long legs out with a playful groan. His hair is a mess from the hat, sticking up in every direction, and he looks ridiculously good like that — a little wild, a little disheveled. You catch him watching you as you adjust the rearview mirror, his grin lopsided and lazy, the kind of smile that makes your pulse race.

“You’ve got that look on your face again,” you say, glancing at him as you start the car.

“What look?”

“That ‘what the fuck is happening’ look.”

Luke laughs, low and warm, running a hand through his hair to smooth it down. “I can’t believe this is happening, to be fair.” His voice low as he adds, “The ultimate girl boss is inviting me home — maybe I will have to thank Dawson for the party idea.”

"Don't call me that." you say as you roll your eyes, but there’s no denying the butterflies in your stomach. As you pull out of the parking lot, the conversation flows easily. Luke teases you about your driving — “Are you always this aggressive behind the wheel, or is this just a Halloween thing?” — and you fire back with playful jabs about his costume. The sexual tension from the party hasn’t faded; if anything, it’s simmering just beneath the surface, waiting to boil over.

When you reach your apartment, Luke follows you up the stairs, his fingers brushing yours as you unlock the door. The quiet click of the door shutting behind you seems to amplify the tension in the air.

“So, this is it?” he says, glancing around your cozy living room. He looks a little out of place in the Luigi costume, but there’s something endearing about it — like he doesn’t care how ridiculous he looks.

“This is it,” you say, kicking off your shoes and setting your keys on the counter. “Make yourself at home.” Luke takes his time wandering through the space, his fingers trailing over the back of your couch, his gaze flicking to the framed photos on the wall. When he turns back to you, there’s a softness in his expression, but his eyes are still dark with something more.

“You weren’t kidding about the no coffee thing,” he says, peering into the kitchen.

“Told you.”

He steps closer, his footsteps quiet on the hardwood floor. “So, what do you have?”

You lean against the counter, tilting your head. “Depends. What are you in the mood for?”

Luke’s lips twitch into a grin as he closes the distance between you. “I think you already know.”

You swallow hard, your heart pounding as he stops in front of you, so close that you can feel the warmth radiating off him. His hands find the counter on either side of you, effectively caging you in.

“You’ve been driving me crazy all night,” he says softly, his voice low and rough. “I wasn’t sure if I was imagining it or if you were actually interested.”

Your fingers curl around the edge of the counter, your breath catching. “What do you think?”

Luke’s gaze drops to your mouth, lingering for a beat before meeting your eyes again. “I think I’m done guessing.”

His lips are on yours before you can respond, the kiss slow and deliberate, like he’s savouring the taste of you. His hands move to your waist, pulling you flush against him, and you let yourself melt into him, your fingers tangling in his hair. The kiss deepens, your bodies pressed together, and you lose yourself in the feeling of his hands exploring your back, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck. Every touch, every kiss, feels like a spark igniting something inside you.

“Luke…” His name slips from your lips in a breathless whisper, and he pulls back just enough to meet your gaze. “I hope to god you know how to take a corset off.” Luke’s soft laugh captures your breath as his hands spin your around till you face the counter. 

“One thing about hockey players is we’re good with laces.” He says quietly, making quick work of undoing the ribbon on the back of your corset, letting the faux leather fall off your body once the laces are loose enough, your dress sitting over your frame loosely as Luke’s hands run up your sides. 

“Do you want me to show you something else that hockey players are good at?” Luke asks softly, his lips skimming just under your ear as you nod. Luke moving your quickly as he spins you back around the face him, leaning forwards to capture your lips in a quick kiss before dropping to his knees in front of you, his hands pulling the fabric over your dress up to your waist, motion for you to grip it with your own hands. 

“I need you to stay still for me, Princess.” He coos, his fingers linking in the waistband of your panties before dragging them down your legs, his hands slowly reaching up to rub against the soft skin of your thighs, the plush flesh tensing under his touch. He leans forwards swiping a tentative lick against you, his eyes turned up to yours, watching you as your eyes fall closed, your hands gripping the fabric of your dress for dear life. Happy with your reaction he delves forwards, his tongue pressing flat against you as his nose bumps against your swelling clit. His hands trail softly up the backs of your thighs, over your ass until they sit comfortably on your hips. 

You whimper as he pulls your cunt firmer against his face, his head moving as his tongue circles around your clit, teasing before he sucks the bud into his mouth. “Fuck.” You curse, your back curving against the counter until your resting on your elbows, your head thrown back.. You can feel Lukes’s crooked grin against you as one of his hand drops to lift your thigh, draping the limb over his shoulder opening you up further for him. Luke’s movements become quicker, more feverish as his tongue dips inside you for just a moment before licking back up to your clit. 

“Are fingers allowed, princess?” He questions softly, as he pulls his face away from your cunt much to your dismay, his eyes teasing as you nod quickly, your lip trapped between your teeth as he slides one finger between your folds, gathering any juices he could before slowly pushing the single digit inside of you. 

“God, I can feel how desperate you are.” He coos as you clench around his single finger, a loud branch snapping outside of the shed making you jump, his finger sliding out of you slightly before sliding back in to the third knuckle, Luke chuckling as he presses a kiss against the thigh hanging over his shoulder. “Surprised?” He questions. 

You barely getting a chance to respond, as he sucks your clit sharply releasing it with a grin as you let out a low whine as he presses his thumb harshly against your clit, his fingers calling at just the right time, your cunt clenching so forcefully he lets out a surprised laugh. He pauses his movements for a moment, watching the way you pant as you come down from your orgasm, whispering his name. 

“Jesus, Luke.”

“Don’t praise me yet.” He whispers as he slides your leg off his shoulder, slowly rising to his full height as he towers over you, pushing you further against the counter, “I’m not finished with you.” Luke spins you for the third time of the night, your hands bracing against the counter as you pant, Luke snatching your dress from your hands as he pulls it up and over your head, your breasts falling free as he presses you against the cold kitchen counter. 

“You’re stunning.” He murmurs as his hands make quick work of unbuttoning his overalls, letting them fall to the ground as he steps out of them, your breaths coming faster as you feel his body pressing against yours. His hands slide over your waist, tracing the curve of your hips, before gripping firmly. He’s warm, solid, and the intensity in his gaze when you glance back at him is enough to set your skin ablaze.

Luke leans in, his lips brushing against the shell of your ear, voice husky and teasing. “You sure you’re ready for this, Princess?”

You nod, pushing back against him slightly, your body arching into his touch. “I wouldn’t have invited you here if I wasn’t.”

He groans softly, his hands steadying you as he presses a line of kisses along your shoulder and down your back, his lips trailing fire over your skin. His movements are purposeful but unhurried, each touch and kiss designed to build the anticipation thrumming between you. When you feel the tip of his arousal teasing against your entrance, your breath hitches, and he pauses, his fingers tightening on your hips.

“Tell me if it’s too much,” he murmurs, his lips ghosting over your skin.

You turn your head slightly, meeting his eyes over your shoulder. “I’ll let you know.”

That’s all the encouragement he needs. With a slow, deliberate motion, he pushes into you, both of you gasping at the sensation. He fills you completely, stretching you in a way that’s almost overwhelming but impossibly good. Your eyes squeeze shut as you let out a harsh breath, Luke pausing once he’s fully seated, giving you a moment to adjust, his hand smoothing over your lower back in silent reassurance.

“You okay?” He asks softly, his lips pressing gently to your neck as he waits for you to relax, your pussy squeezing him as you nod your head slowly, letting it drop against the counter. 

“I just need a second.” You hiss, “It always hurts at first.” You add, focusing on your breathing and relaxing your pelvis as Luke tilts his head in confusion, his hands still rubbing against you tenderly. 

“Do you want me to pull out?” He asks carefully, unsure how to help as you adjust a little more, a relieved sigh leaving you as you glance over your shoulder to smile at him. 

“You can move.” You assure him. Luke nods slowly, his movements careful as he puts out and pushes back in, the pain shifting deep in the pit of your stomach as you let out a soft moan. 

“You feel…” he starts, his voice thick with restraint. “Perfect.” You can barely respond, your mind hazy with the pleasure coursing through you. When he starts moving, it’s slow and steady, each thrust measured and deliberate. He watches your reactions closely, the way your body responds to him, the soft sounds that escape your lips.

“Luke,” you whisper, your fingers gripping the edge of the counter for support as he quickens his pace. His name on your lips seems to spur him on, his rhythm becoming more urgent, his grip on your hips firm but not painful. The tension between you builds with every movement, the sensation almost too much to bear. He leans forward, his chest engulfing you as he presses against your back as he wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you upright. The new angle has you crying out, your head falling back against his shoulder as he buries his face in your neck, his lips and teeth teasing your skin.

“God, you feel so good,” he murmurs, his voice a mix of awe and desire. “You’re incredible.”

The praise only heightens the sensations coursing through you, your body trembling as you feel yourself nearing the edge. He seems to sense it, his movements becoming even more focused, his free hand sliding down to where your bodies are joined to circle your sensitive clit.

“Come for me,” he urges, his voice low and rough. “I want to feel you.” It’s all you need. The coil of pleasure tightens and then snaps, waves of bliss crashing over you as you cry out his name, your body tightening around him. He follows shortly after, his pace faltering as he lets out a low groan, his grip on you tightening as he finds his release.

For a moment, neither of you moves, your breaths mingling as you both come down from the high. Luke presses a kiss to your shoulder, his touch suddenly gentle as he leans against you. Luke places one more kiss to your shoulder, before standing up, your body seeming to melt further into the counter as he pulls out - your body cringing as it tries to adjust to the feeling. You take a few more breaths as you listen to Luke pull off the condom and walk across the room to place it in the bin. 

Luke leans against the counter, his hands gripping the edge as if it’s the only thing keeping him grounded. His overalls hang low on his hips, his green shirt untucked and rumpled. He hasn’t said much since pulling away, and now the silence between you feels heavy, like a weight pressing against your chest.

You finish slipping your dress back over your head, your fingers fidgeting with the hem as you glance his way. He’s watching you out of the corner of his eye, his expression unreadable but not indifferent. You can tell there’s something he wants to say, but he doesn’t. Instead, he clears his throat and straightens up, his hands disappearing into his pockets.

"I should probably get going," he says softly, his voice careful, like he’s testing the words out loud.

The tightness in your chest sharpens. You knew this moment was coming—the logical end to what just happened—but it still hits you harder than you expected. You hesitate, watching as he takes a small step toward the door.

"Wait," you blurt out, your voice louder than you intended. He stops immediately, turning to face you, his brow furrowing.

"Yeah?" he asks, and you can hear the note of uncertainty in his voice.

Your heart pounds as you scramble to find the right words, suddenly feeling exposed in a way that has nothing to do with your now-rumpled dress. "You don’t… you don’t have to go," you say quickly, stumbling over the words. "I mean, it’s late, and…"

Luke’s eyes widen slightly, and you can see something flicker across his face—relief? Hope? He blinks, and his lips part like he’s about to say something, but he doesn’t. You push on, needing to fill the silence.

"You could stay," you continue, your cheeks flushing. "If you want to. I mean, it’s just… it’s late, and I drove you here anyway—“

"I’d like that," he interrupts, his voice soft but firm.

You stop mid-ramble, staring at him. "You would?"

Luke nods, a small, almost shy smile tugging at the corner of his mouth. He takes a step closer, his hands still buried in his pockets. "Yeah," he says quietly. "I didn’t really want to leave, anyway."

The admission makes your stomach flip, and you glance down, suddenly feeling self-conscious. "Okay," you say, your voice barely above a whisper. "You can stay."

He watches you for a moment longer, his gaze warm and steady, before he nods again. "Thanks," he says simply, but there’s a weight behind the word that makes your chest tighten in a different way.

You gesture toward the bedroom, your throat dry as you try to keep your voice casual. "Uh, the bed’s big enough… if you’re okay with sharing." Luke’s eyebrows lift slightly, and for a second, you wonder if you’ve made things weird. But then he smiles—soft and genuine—and the tension in your chest eases.

"I’m okay with that," he says, his voice light but sincere.

You nod, turning toward the bedroom. "Okay. I’ll just… get things sorted."

As you step into the room, Luke follows, his footsteps quiet on the hardwood floor. You pull back the covers, smoothing them out as if that will somehow make you feel less nervous. When you glance over your shoulder, he’s standing by the doorway, hesitating.

"You sure?" he asks, his voice quieter now.

You meet his gaze and manage a small smile. "Yeah," you say softly. "I’m sure." That seems to be all the reassurance he needs. He steps inside, pulling off his overalls completely and leaving them in a heap on the floor. His green shirt is next to go, his unsurprisingly toned chest making you swallow heavily,  only left in his boxers now, and somehow, the casualness of it makes you feel less self-conscious.

You both climb into the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. For a few moments, neither of you speaks, lying side by side with a cautious amount of space between you. But then, slowly, Luke shifts closer, his arm brushing yours.

"Thanks for asking me to stay," he murmurs, his voice so low it’s almost a whisper. You turn your head to look at him, your face so close to his that you can see the faint freckles scattered across his nose. 

"I didn’t really want you to leave," you admit quietly.

His lips curve into a soft smile, and he reaches out, his fingers brushing yours under the blanket. "Good," he says, his voice warm. "Because I really didn’t want to."

The two of you end up tangled in each other throughout the night, Lukes arm draped over your waist as he drags you across the mattress to press against him, his face tucked into your neck as your relax into the warmth of his chest. 

When you wake up the warmth is gone, the mattress is empty and a small post it note sits on the pillow besides you. 

‘I had fun last night, had to leave early for practice, sorry.’ 

The cold sheets isn’t a surprise as you throw the note across the room, Luke doing exactly you expected the hot shot hockey player to do. 

+

+

“I can’t believe we have to do another company get together.” You huff as you readjust your hair in it’s ponytail for the tenth time, Dawson bouncing besides you in excitement. “And a hike? Who do they think we are? Athletes?” You continue your frown deepening as you watch the tall, curly haired hockey player interact with one of your colleagues a few metres away, his smile lighting up the group around him. 

“Well some of us are athletes.” Dawson teases as he bumps his shoulder into yours, his gaze following yours, a mischievous grin breaking out across his face. “It’s been three months since the halloween party, I think we’re overdue for an outing.” Dawson starts slowly, your gaze flicking over to him, the small cogs in your brain turning as you feel the panic begin to set in. 

“Dawson, don’t you dare.” But he’s already gone, stepping up onto a big rock as he calls attention to himself. 

“I thought it might be good for each of us players to pair up with one of our lovely office workers to really get the full effect of the company bonding.” He suggests, your heart dropping to your stomach as everyone quickly agrees, already spreading themselves out as each player finds someone to team up with, your boss quickly snatching Dawson off his rock as you watch the curly haired man’s blue-green eyes meet yours. 

“Thank me later.” Dawson coos as he starts up the mountain, his arm linked with your boss’s as they ramble as they walk. 

“I’m going to kill that man in his slee— oh hey Luke.” 

“Hey, I um… noticed you didn’t have a partner?” He says, well questions, his brows pinched tight as he studies your body, your arms crossed tightly over your chest, you gaze anywhere but on him. Luke motions for you to start following the rest of your colleagues up the trail before quickly matching your pace, walking besides you easily with his long legs. 

The cool spring air brushes against your skin as you step onto the trail, the sound of chatter and boots hitting the dirt path filling the air. The company hike was supposed to be a casual event, a chance to mingle with colleagues, relax, and get away from the office for a few hours. But, as usual, it feels a little more complicated than it should be.

You glance around the small group you’ve been assigned to — everyone seems in high spirits, laughing and chatting, but you can’t help but feel a sense of discomfort. You’ve been quiet, your mind occupied with thoughts that don’t seem to want to let go.

The trail twists up ahead, and you can feel the weight of someone’s gaze on you. When you glance to the side, you see Luke walking beside you, looking every bit the confident, carefree guy he usually is. But today, there's something different about him. He’s watching you with an expression that seems to mix curiosity and confusion. It’s the kind of look you know too well — the one that tells you he’s trying to figure something out, trying to read you, but doesn’t quite know where to start.

You quickly avert your eyes, focusing on the path ahead, pretending to be absorbed in the beauty of the trail. The last thing you want right now is to deal with whatever this... thing is between you two. Whatever it was that happened the night of the Halloween party, whatever moment was shared between you, has left a lingering tension in the air. It’s subtle but undeniable, and the last few months have been filled with an awkward distance you’re both trying (and failing) to navigate.

Luke seems to notice your change in demeanour right away. You can feel the shift in the atmosphere, the way his presence suddenly feels more pronounced. He slows his pace just slightly, a move that draws you out of your own head, and when you glance at him, he’s giving you that familiar, crooked smile.

"So," he says casually, his hands resting loosely in the pockets of his jacket. "You’ve been awfully quiet today. Everything okay?"

You shrug, your eyes ahead as you force your voice to sound casual, "Yeah, just... tired, I guess."

He raises an eyebrow, clearly not buying it. "Uh-huh." He pauses for a moment, then adds, "Because you’re usually pretty chatty on these things." The gentle teasing in his voice stings more than it should, but you keep your expression neutral, refusing to let him see the way his words unsettle you. 

"Guess I’m just not feeling it today,” you reply with a half-smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes.

You know he doesn’t buy it — Luke’s not an idiot. He’s seen you in better moods, and knows enough about you from all of his desperate attempts at reconnecting with you through Dawson, that he knows enough to notice the shift in your behaviour toward him. 

Ever since that night, things have been... different. After everything that happened between you two, it felt like one of you was always pulling back, unsure of how to move forward. For you, the uncertainty of the night, the chemistry, and the suddenness of it all left you second-guessing yourself. You never really figured out where you stood with him after that.

Luke takes a deep breath, then breaks the silence with another question, his voice more carefully measured this time, "Is this because of... what happened, that night?"

Your heart skips a beat. You stop in your tracks, suddenly feeling like the ground beneath you has shifted. You don’t want to face this. Not here, not now. But you can’t deny that Luke’s words have hit a nerve, and the air between you both grows thick with unspoken tension.

"Don’t..." you begin, but your voice falters before you can finish. You feel exposed, like a part of you that you’ve kept hidden is being laid bare for him to see.

Luke notices the shift instantly. He takes a half step toward you, a small frown pulling at the edges of his mouth. "I didn’t mean to make things weird," he says quietly, his voice softening in that way it does when he’s being sincere. "I just... don’t get it. You’ve been acting different lately, and I’m not sure why. After that night, it felt like... like something happened, and I guess I’ve just been waiting for you to say something."

You bite your lip, feeling the weight of his words settle on your chest. 

He’s right. 

Things have been different. But you’re not sure how to explain it to him, not when everything you’re feeling seems to clash with what’s happening in your head.

"You’ve been avoiding me, haven’t you?" His words aren’t accusatory, just observant, and it makes something inside you twist painfully.

You nod, the truth hanging between you both in that awkward silence. You don’t know how to explain the mix of emotions swirling inside you. Part of you wants to laugh it off, pretend it’s nothing, but the other part of you feels the sting of being too close to him and too unsure of where to stand.

Luke takes a step closer, and you can feel the weight of his presence, his eyes not leaving yours. "I didn’t think I’d made you uncomfortable," he says quietly, the tone of his voice softer than usual. "I thought... maybe you had fun. I thought we had fun."

The way he says it, so uncertain, so vulnerable, makes your heart ache. "We did," you reply, barely above a whisper. “You could’ve woken me up before you left, you know?” The words are out of your mouth before you can shove them back in, Luke pausing, his stop forcing you to stop walking as well. 

His mouth drops open as he shoots you a dumbfounded look, “Are you kidding me?” He lets out a shocked laugh before adding, “You didn’t even bother to call me - it’s been three months and you’re holding a grudge because I had to leave early but don’t see anything wrong with you just blatantly ignoring my phone number?” 

“Call you?” Your body almost recoils in shock as you look up at him in confusion. “How was I supposed to call you?” 

Luke looks equally as confused now, his hands perched on his hips as the two of you just stare at each other. “Did you not look on the back of the sticky note?” He asks softly, his face relaxing in understanding as everything seems to click into place. 

You blink at him, still unsure of what he's talking about. “Back of the note?” you echo, your voice unsure, as if you’re not quite processing what he’s saying. You’re trying to piece things together, but it's all so disorienting. This whole conversation feels like a game of telephone gone wrong, and you’ve missed the message completely.

Luke's face softens as if a realisation is dawning on him, a quiet chuckle slipping from his lips as he steps a little closer. “Yeah, you know,” he says, his hands sliding into the pockets of his jacket, “the sticky note I left you the morning after Halloween.” He watches your reaction closely, his eyes flicking from your face to your stiffened posture, noting the way you're not quite meeting his gaze. "I thought it would be pretty obvious..."

You shake your head slowly, heart sinking in your chest. This doesn’t make sense. “I… I didn’t even notice anything on the back.”

Luke tilts his head, eyebrows knitting together as though he's trying to process your words. “Are you serious?” he asks, though not unkindly. He sounds almost amused, but it’s the kind of amusement that’s mixed with a touch of disbelief. You blink, a wave of realisation hitting you, but it doesn’t make things clearer—if anything, it only makes them more confusing. The night of the Halloween party, everything had been a blur after… after what happened between you and Luke. You'd woken up alone, with no trace of him. The only thing you had found was that stupid post it note on your pillow. You’d glanced at it, but in your haze of confusion and disappointment, you had dismissed it as just a random note, trying to rid himself of the guilt of walking out after your night together. You never once thought it would have his number on it.

“I thought you were gone,” you murmur, still not fully understanding. “You just… disappeared. After that night.”Luke’s face softens, his expression shifting from confusion to something quieter, more patient. 

“I didn’t disappear, I just—” He pauses, choosing his words carefully. “I didn’t want to wake you up. You were sleeping, and most people don’t want to wake up at five in the morning, and I wasn’t sure if you even wanted to see me again after everything. So I thought… I thought the note would be enough. I thought you’d get it.”

You feel the blood rush to your face, the weight of misunderstanding suddenly crashing down on you. That note. All these months, you had been carrying the confusion, the anger, the hurt of what you assumed was his rejection. All this time, you’d believed that he had left without a word, leaving you to overthink every moment, to wonder what went wrong, why it all felt so unfinished. But it wasn’t rejection. It was a miscommunication, a simple mistake in the way you both had handled things.

“I never saw it,” you say quietly, the words almost feeling foreign in your mouth. “I thought… I thought you just left. You had got what you wanted and left.” Luke exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair, a small, sheepish laugh escaping him. 

"Well, now I feel like an idiot." He glances down, clearly embarrassed at how the situation has unfolded, and you see the vulnerability in his eyes, the way he’s trying to navigate this, just like you.

“I mean, I should’ve told you,” he continues, his voice softening. “I should’ve woken you up, but I didn’t want to make things awkward if you weren’t interested. I didn’t want to push it if that wasn’t what you wanted.” The words settle between you both, and you feel the air shift, the distance that has been between you for months beginning to dissipate, just a little. The weight in your chest lightens as you finally start to understand what happened, what you both had been too afraid to face, too unsure to talk about.

“I’m sorry,” you whisper, the apology slipping from your lips before you can stop it. “I should’ve paid more attention.”

Luke shrugs, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “No need to apologise. It’s just... both of us being kind of ridiculous, isn’t it?” His smile widens, but it’s not the same playful, confident grin you’re used to seeing. It’s more real, more raw. “I thought you were just avoiding me for some reason, and here you were thinking I ghosted you.”

You let out a small laugh, though it’s mixed with a breath of relief. “I guess we were both just avoiding the obvious.”

“Yeah,” Luke agrees, his voice easing with the tension. He takes a small step closer, his eyes locking with yours as he lowers his hands from his pockets. “So, now what?”

The question hangs in the air, and you find yourself looking up at him, the distance between you shrinking with every word you say. You take a deep breath, suddenly realising how much this conversation, how much this moment, has been long overdue. The walls you’ve both built around each other are crumbling, slowly but surely.

“Well,” you begin, trying to gather your thoughts as you look at Luke. He’s standing so close now, and despite the lingering awkwardness, there’s something about him that feels more approachable, more open. "I think... maybe we need to stop assuming things about each other. Because, honestly, I had no idea what you were thinking. And you had no idea what I was thinking. So maybe we should just start from scratch."

Luke’s face lights up, a genuine smile spreading across his face as he nods, his eyes bright with a hint of mischief. "I like that idea. Starting from scratch sounds good to me." For the first time in months, you feel a sense of relief flood your chest, the tension between you two breaking apart. . 

“Yeah,” you reply, returning his smile. “How about we start by you giving me your number?”

Luke laughs, the sound light and easy now. “Sure, let’s take our time. But don’t go ghosting me.”

“No more ghosting,” you agree, feeling a weight lift off your shoulders as you start walking again, side by side.

As you continue up the trail, the tension that once felt so heavy now seems almost silly. What had felt like an insurmountable distance between you two has suddenly shrunk, and you can’t help but wonder how different things might’ve been if you’d both just taken a moment to talk. But for now, you’re content with where you are — a little wiser, a little closer, and finally ready to leave the past behind.